‘Henry, you’ve got to get a bigger car, man,’ Bas said, unfolding himself from the Flying Tomato, Henry’s faded-red old-school Mini, with a groan. Cassie always found it hysterical how oversized Henry looked driving it, but Bas had another three inches on him and had cruised the Kings Road with his chin on his knees, leaving both girls crying with laughter on the back seat.
Henry reached for Cassie’s hand to pull her out and Anouk hopped easily from the back seat, looking up at the red-brick mansion blocks surrounding them on all sides. They were in the heart of Chelsea, a hop, skip and a jump from the prestigious Cheyne Walk, home to rock stars, topflight designers and aristos wise enough to live on interest, not capital.
The river slipped silently past only metres away, and mature trees cast dappled shadows on the pavements. Nothing went for under five million in this area – not a garage, not a studio, not even a broom cupboard with a pull-down bed – and there was a moneyed hush to these backstreets, which sat nestled between the river and the Kings Road, the narrow facades belying cavernous homes with dug-out, subterranean levels and meticulously landscaped back gardens with Japanese or modernist themes.
At first glance, the crowd outside the pub seemed anomalous with SW3’s groomed vibe – girls were in denim cut-offs and baggy dungarees worn, bra-less, over vests, fluoro bracelets stacked up their arms and hair piled up in scruffy topknots; the guys looked like they belonged in Shoreditch, not Chelsea, wearing skinny rolled-up chinos, tatty linen espadrilles with the heels crushed underfoot and narrow check shirts. But their tans were expensively layered – Christmas in Mustique, followed by Easter in Verbier – and their accents betrayed expensive educations that no amount of roll-up cigarettes and prolific swearing could hide.
Cassie looked down at her chambray minidress and ankle boots, feeling caught between worlds – not cool enough for this crowd, but too casual for Gem’s party? Anouk, of course, fitted in perfectly, effortlessly drawing admiring glances from the hipster girls in her slate silk harem pants and a grey linen T-shirt, with gladiator sandals and some of her own-design leather lariats, having pulled the outfit from her overnight bag like it was a bad smell but would ‘have to do’.
They all walked into the pub together, each of them pausing momentarily as they were hit by the wall of noise. It was rammed in there – every table taken, barely standing room at the bar – and Henry found Cassie’s hand, pulling her through the crowd towards the staircase to the left. The bass beat of music thumped louder as they squeezed past people standing on the stairs, all drinking and laughing above the din.
Cassie wondered where the usual pub crowd ended and Gem’s party began. Everyone in here seemed so young. Or was that just a sign that she was getting old? She frowned. Her marriage to Gil had prematurely aged her, as she settled down throughout her twenties to a life of shoot dinners and Highland balls, but since being with Henry, she’d felt her youthfulness blossom again, as she caught up on all the things she’d missed out on: going to concerts, wild swimming, creeping onto the roof with a duvet and pillows and sleeping under the stars, drinking a whole bottle of wine and not caring about the hangover the next day . . .
She wasn’t ready to move over for the younger kids. Not yet. This was her time, her moment, when life was exactly as she wanted it, exactly as she’d dreamed – young, free and living with the man she loved in a set of rooftop rooms they’d managed to make into a home.
Balloons were clustered on the wall lights, and a huge banner made from a bed sheet was strung above the windows at the front and spray-painted to read, ‘Welcome home, Gem!’
‘So where is she, then?’ Cassie called up to Henry, taking in the sea of dewy complexions, gap-year tans and effortlessly firm flesh.
‘Do you really need to ask?’ Henry laughed, his eyes on a petite brunette dancing on a table in the far corner. Her dark hair had been woven into tight cornrows, her face and palms upturned to the ceiling – but notionally the sky, Cassie suspected – as she swayed, eyes closed, to the ambient strains of London Grammar.
‘Ew,’ Bas said, wincing at the sight of Gem’s cornrows. To a hairdresser of his international standing, cornrows were to hair what braces were to teeth.
Cassie rubbed his arm consolingly as they made their way over, Henry eagerly ploughing through the crowd ahead of them.
‘Hey, you!’ he shouted, stopping in front of Gem’s table and pointing up to her aggressively.
Gem opened her eyes and looked down, her eyes lighting up with delight as she saw her tall, handsome cousin looking back at her.
‘Henners!’ she yelled, a smile of utter delight on her face at the sight of him.
‘Who said you could start dancing on tables before I got here?’ he shouted up to her, making her throw her head back in laughter.
‘You’re so right! Geronimo!’ she yelled, and in the next moment she had flung her arms out and propelled herself forward through the air, towering above the crowd that separated them, before toppling onto their outstretched arms and surfing her way over them. Henry grabbed her hand as she was passed back towards him, lifting her slightly – his height gave him enough advantage to get her to a more vertical position – and as the hands accordingly fell away, she was standing in front of him.
‘Hating being back, then?’ he grinned, before hugging her tightly so that her feet came off the ground. She really was tiny – no more than five foot three, with a heart-shaped face, snub nose and small dark, nearly black eyes. Her smile seemed elastic, like it was on strings, and apart from the clear addiction to adrenalin, Cassie couldn’t see the family resemblance.
Gem reached up, her hands solemn upon Henry’s shoulders, her bright smile of seconds before suddenly completely gone. ‘Tell me, how is he?’ she asked, her face so utterly solemn Cassie wasn’t quite sure whether she was taking the mickey or not.
‘Improving all the time. On a general ward now. You know Arch – he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t come here tonight!’
Gem laughed – a sudden high squeal of delight and surprise that made Cassie jump and Anouk take a half-step back, her left eyebrow already in its customary arch. ‘I love him so much!’
‘I know. He’s mad about you too. And Suzy’s gutted not to be here, but she said if she doesn’t set a good example for him . . .’ Henry rolled his eyes.
‘Love it! Love it! Good old Suze. It doesn’t sound like she’s changed, then.’
‘I think we can say her ways are fairly set now. Besides, you’ve only been gone a couple of years! Not that much has changed.’
‘Well, you’ve gone and got engaged again!’ She slapped him lovingly on the arm, quite hard.
Cassie winced – not at the slap but at Gem’s choice of words; wishing she hadn’t brought up the memory of his previous engagement.
‘I got lucky.’
‘She did, you mean! Is she here?’ Gem seemed oblivious to their small crowd, gathered politely at Henry’s shoulder, waiting to break into the cosy reunion. Her eyes hadn’t left his, once. ‘I want to see the woman who’s ensnared my slippery, enigmatic, elusive cousin.’
Cassie felt her stomach tighten. Well, when it was put like that . . .
Henry pulled Cassie forward and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she smiled nervously at this tiny girl who was clearly way more important to Henry than he had let on.
‘Cassie?’ Gem asked, her eyes so wide Cassie thought she might overbalance.
Had they met before?
‘Hi,’ Cassie smiled, holding out her hand.
‘I can’t believe it! You’re marrying Henry?’
‘Uh, yes. Yes, I am,’ Cassie faltered, tucking her hair behind the other ear as it became clear Gem wasn’t going to shake her hand. No doubt she was supposed to have fist-bumped.
Gem nodded, her hands on her hips and grinning at her. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’
‘Um . . .’ Cassie bit her lip apologetically.
‘Years ago,’ Gem said, swaying to the side like a Weeble as she spoke. ‘You were back from boarding school with Suze and the two of you made me be your Girls’ World.’ She watched Cassie’s face remain blank. ‘You know, like one of those styling heads – blue eyeshadow, lip gloss, little plaits?’ She pulled one of her cornrows. ‘Not that you could do that to me now, right?’
‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I don’t . . . I don’t remember that at all.’
There was a tiny pause. ‘Agh, that’s OK.’ Gem made a dismissive gesture with her hand. ‘It made more impact on me because you two were the cool big girls and I was just the little-squirt cousin, over for the night while my folks went to some hunt ball or something.’
‘Oh . . . Did we . . . did we give you a good hairstyle?’
Beside her, Henry laughed. Cassie imagined Anouk was scowling.
‘Hey, where d’you think my love of braids comes from?’ Gem laughed, twirling another of her cornrows like it was a cancan dancer’s leg.
Cassie felt embarrassed that she had no recollection of the event at all. ‘Well, you really should meet my friends Bas and Anouk.’ She stepped back to widen the circle. ‘Bas is one of the top hairstylists in New York. He’s just on a stopover from Paris.’
‘Hey, Bas, you like? Pretty rad, right?’ Gem beamed, leaning in slightly so he could see the masterful precision of the cornrows across her scalp. Not a hair was out of alignment.
‘Impressive,’ he nodded politely, looking like a sunflower in a field of daisies.
‘And I love your lariats. I didn’t see any like that in Ibiza,’ Gem continued, looking at Anouk with something approaching reverence (although to be fair, Anouk got that a lot).
‘Non?’
Gem’s eyes narrowed as she took in Anouk’s accent. ‘Oh hey, wait! You’re not . . . you’re not the French one, are you?’
‘The French one?’ Anouk didn’t look happy with the label.
‘Oh God, you are! Do you guys still see each other?’ Gem asked, eyes wide again as she clapped her hands and looked between the two women. ‘What was the other girl called? American.’
‘Kelly,’ Bas said.
‘That’s it! Kelly! Oh God, you know her too, Bas.’ Her hands folded over her heart, and her head tipped to the side. ‘You’re all still together, like a little family.’ She placed a hand on Anouk’s arm. ‘Do you have any idea how much I idolized you guys when I was growing up? I wanted all of you to be my best friends. I wanted to be just like you. Actually, who am I kidding?’ she laughed. ‘I wanted to be you. I wanted Cassie’s eyes, Kelly’s hair, Suzy’s bosoms’ – Gem cupped her own, but they were resolutely flat – ‘and your skin,’ she said, gazing at Anouk reverentially.
Anouk merely blinked. ‘We don’t have drinks,’ she said bluntly, throwing out her incomprehensibly empty hands to make the point.
‘Allow me,’ Bas said with a nod of his head, turning on his heels towards the bar.
‘I’ll help,’ Anouk said, following after, which was notable, as she never usually helped. Cassie watched them go enviously.
‘Isn’t she great?’ Henry whispered in her ear, before kissing her on the cheek. Cassie nodded, but in truth, she’d never met someone who spoke so quickly before. It was like being machine-gunned.
‘So, Gem, give me the virtual tour. What was your route? Where’ve you been?’ Henry asked, looping an arm over Cassie’s shoulder, keeping her by his side.
Gem took a deep breath. ‘Well, we did the first summer in Ibiza. I mean, nowhere near San Antonio – obvs. I just can’t take that touristy, clubbing crowd, you know? They’re all just so young and immature, and they act like they’re the first people who’ve ever had drugs, you know?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘No, we were up in the mountains at this great little hostel where they grew all their own food and there were freaking goats everywhere. It was just really . . . humble. More like a kibbutz really, except not, you know . . . Jewish.’
‘Right.’ Henry frowned, clearly a little puzzled. ‘And then?’
‘So then we moved on to India, went to Jaipur and Kerala and met some amazing spiritualists. I got so into Ayurveda it’s not even funny. And in Braj, we were there in time for the Holi festival – you know, when everyone throws paint powder all over each other and dances in the Ganges?’
Cassie was instantly grateful to realize Anouk would miss this comment. As someone who bathed in coconut milk and honey, the thought of bathing in the Ganges would no doubt elicit a violent physical reaction more akin to an enema.
‘Although, my skin was blue-tinted for about a fortnight afterwards,’ she laughed.
‘Funny, I’ve never done India,’ Henry said, clearly riveted. ‘But everyone raves about it.’
‘Apart from those who get Delhi belly,’ Cassie joked, but her words must have been swallowed up by the crowd as neither Henry nor Gem laughed.
‘You could go on your honeymoon!’ Gem said excitedly. ‘You so should! I know this guy who owns this uh-mazing palace that he rents out to friends and friends of friends. It’s really exclusive and word of mouth only. Honestly, you’d love it – the views are to die for.’
Cassie smiled, nodding politely every time Gem glanced at her, which wasn’t often.
‘It’s a definite possibility, isn’t it?’ Henry asked, giving her a loving squeeze.
Cassie nodded again. Last night’s argument – although triggered by the stress of Archie’s predicament and already forgiven – remained as unresolved as ever. ‘Where else did you go?’ she asked quickly.
‘Well, then we shimmied over to Bali for a bit. Don’t you just love gamelan?’ Gem’s eyes were on Henry again.
Henry nodded. He travelled for a living. He knew exactly what gamelan was without having to look it up on Wikipedia.
‘I did some yoga out there and really got into it, so I took my teacher training qualification.’ She said the words with undisguised pride. ‘Ah! Ah! You see? You’re surprised, aren’t you? You thought I was just swanning about the world and putting off getting a job, but I’ve come back with a qualification. You weren’t expecting that, were you?’
Henry shook his head indulgently. ‘You’re right. I wasn’t.’
‘No. Aunt Hats couldn’t believe it either. But I just thought it was important to come back with something to show for my time off, right? I mean, it’s not all just watching sunsets on the beach. Although, ohmigod, doing yoga? On a beach? At sunset?’ She closed her eyes, her middle fingers and thumbs pinched together in an ‘om’ position. ‘Di. Vine.’
‘I bet,’ Henry grinned, joshing Cassie lightly with his elbow.
‘Do you do yoga, Cassie?’
Cassie was startled. Being in Gem’s sights was like having a lighthouse lamp shone right at you. ‘Uh, well, not really, no. I’m more of a runner.’
Gem shook her head. ‘Running makes you so tight.’ She scrunched her face and hands up tightly, as though her words could only be true if she followed them through bodily. ‘We should do some yoga together sometime. I’ll take you through some om shantis.’
‘Oh, OK. Yes, groovy. Thanks.’
Groovy? Groovy? Who said that? Why had she said that? She never said that! Cassie scanned the room, wondering whether everyone else in there was looking at her like she was old. She felt old – and very tired – in Gem’s company.
‘Anyway, after, like, five months, I was done. Done I tell you. There’s only so many pink sunsets you can take, you know?’
‘So where’d you go then?’ Henry’s eyes were alive with curiosity.
‘Oceania. Isn’t that just the best name?’ She wrinkled her cute snub nose. ‘Went to New Zealand first because I wasn’t ready to . . . immerse myself in city life again so soon, you know? I just felt so pure after all those months of living on fish and stretching my body and rubbing salt on my skin. I needed a halfway house to get me back to civilization again. I had to retox!’ she laughed.
‘I totally get that,’ Henry shrugged. He was often quiet for a few days on returning from a trip, wanting nothing more than to hole up in the flat with Cassie for four days at a stretch, speaking to no one but each other.
‘I knew you would,’ Gem grinned, looking at him intently and jabbing him affectionately in the chest with her finger. ‘So we spent a couple of months there before going on to Oz.’
‘We?’ Cassie asked, pleased that she could see Bas and Anouk on their way back with the drinks.
‘Me and Laird.’
‘Aye-aye,’ Henry said with a wink, as Bas reached over and put a pint into his hand. ‘Anything we need to discuss?’
‘Funny you should ask . . .’ Gem beamed, clapping her hands together.
‘Drink that – it’ll make you feel better,’ Anouk instructed, handing Cass her gin and tonic. ‘What are you all talking about?’
‘Gem’s fella in Oz,’ Henry said. ‘I was just finding out whether he’s worthy of my little cuz.’
‘Oh, he totally is. Wait till you meet him.’
‘He is here too?’ Anouk asked, looking languidly around the room.
‘Well, I wasn’t going to leave him behind. Wait till you see him. He’s a total keeper.’
‘Where is he?’ Cassie asked, intrigued.
‘Over there.’ They all followed Gem’s point to a sun-bleached-blond guy by the bar. He had pecs that looked like they were inflated and a tan that only Bas had copyright on. ‘He’s a surfer.’
‘No shit,’ Henry quipped, one eyebrow cocked as his eyes met Cassie’s.
‘You should see him catch a wave. Honestly, it’s almost a spiritual experience.’ She reached inside her top and pulled out a roll-up, quickly cupping a hand as she lit it, her eyes closed as she inhaled the first drag. ‘Damn, that’s good . . . Got to be careful he doesn’t catch me. He’s very anti.’ She took another deep, deep drag, just as Henry took it from her with a sympathetic tut.
‘That’s illegal over here now.’
‘What? My little rollie?’ she pouted.
‘Smoking indoors,’ Henry said, wetting his fingers and quickly extinguishing the cigarette. He handed it back to her with a stern expression. ‘Not that you should be smoking anything anywhere.’
‘What are you? My dad?’
‘As good a substitute as you’ll get,’ Henry smiled with a wink.
Gem sighed, staring at the roll-up sadly. ‘I’ve promised to give up anyway. You know, in time for the wedding.’
‘What wedding?’ Henry asked, taking a swig of his beer.
‘Mine! Whose do you think, bozo?’ she cried, holding her arms wide. ‘And seeing as you’re the nearest I’m going to get to a dad – your words! – will you walk me down the aisle?’
Henry coughed, spluttering on his drink and spilling most of it down his poplin shirt. ‘Will I what?’
Gem laughed, delighted at his response. She clearly had a love of dramatics. ‘I said, will you walk me down the aisle?’
Henry gawped at her as he wiped his chin, plainly searching for a sign or a clue that she was joking. ‘But . . . but . . .’ He looked back at Laird with a less friendly look. ‘Does Mum know?’
‘Not yet. I’m telling her tomorrow when we go to see Arch.’ She pulled an ‘Oh Lawd!’ expression. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘Christ, I wouldn’t, Gem. You’ll give her a heart attack and all.’
‘Why?’ Gem asked. ‘This is exactly the kind of good news Aunt Hats needs.’
Henry hesitated. It was clear he did not think his mother was going to receive this as good news. ‘Yes, but . . . well, it’s a bit bloody swift, isn’t it? How long have you even been with the guy?’
‘Long enough.’ Gem pulled a stern face similar to the one she’d pulled when asking about Arch earlier. ‘Besides, what does that matter? Didn’t you always tell me that when you know, you know?’
Henry shifted his weight uneasily. ‘Yes, but . . .’
‘What? It was different for you? Listen, I’m nearly twenty-one, which is the age you were when you told me that Cassie had gone and married that old bloke—’
Anouk spluttered with surprised laughter, and Henry cast a sly, happy look to hear his old rival described as such. Cassie scowled, not so much in defence of Gil but from her own hurt pride to have married such a man.
‘But you still said you knew she’d be yours. I mean, that’s a properly mad thing to go and say, you’ve got to admit. Besides, I’m twenty going on forty. I’m an old soul, me. I know what I want, and I want him.’
‘But what’s the rush, Gem?’ His eyes fell to her stomach, but she just laughed and shook her head. ‘What did you have to get engaged for? Why can’t you just wait a bit?’
‘Wait for what? Tomorrow may never come. All we have is now. This day. This moment. My parents went to bed one night and never woke up. I know how capricious life can be. Everything’s fine and boring and planned out, and then – wham! – the rug’s pulled out from under you. Life can change in a day; it can fall apart in a moment. We have to grab our happiness when we find it and not assume that we’re entitled to the light.’ She shook his arm gently as she dropped her voice. ‘I know you understand it. You always got me. You were the only one who ever did.’
Henry sighed deeply as Gem finally lapsed into silence, her dark eyes hopeful and still upon him. Somehow, Cassie found her silence more unnerving than her mile-a-minute chatter. He gave a slow smile, reaching for her and hugging her tightly round the shoulders. ‘Yes, and I still do. And you’ve always got me,’ he said quietly, kissing the top of her head. ‘Of course I’ll walk you down the aisle.’