‘Clara, sweetheart, you’re home!’ Mum murmurs tearily through the din, opening her arms to pull me close. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve missed you so much,’ she whispers into my ear. She releases me at last, regarding me with concern. ‘They’re saying you’re getting married… is this… is this true?’ She looks helplessly at Harry and then back at me.
I smile widely. ‘Yes, Mum! I wanted to surprise you!’ Ilaugh shortly. ‘And steal your engagement thunder. This is Harry! Harry, this is my mum, Sara Poyntz.’
She timidly offers her hand and he shakes it awkwardly. ‘Great to meet you, Mrs Poyntz,’ Harry says, and I can hear the tremor in his voice. ‘And congratulations on your happy news, uhh,too.’
She blinks at him before answering slowly. ‘Thank you…Harry, it’s lovely to meet you. You must call me Sara.’ Her tone is kindly, but she still looks worried. She cocks her head at me again. ‘You never said anything, Clara?’ The question mark is loud and full of accusations.
‘I’m telling you now!’ I laugh a little defensively, feeling bad. ‘You know what I’m like!’ I catch Angela’s eye and she smiles brightly, swallowing hard. I’m making her uncomfortable. I’m makingeveryoneuncomfortable. This is so me.
‘But… but,’ Mum splutters, trying to maintain her composure and quiet, ‘how long have you been together and when did you… how did this happen—’
Her concerned questions are interrupted by an angry voice behind me.
‘What are you doing?’ I visualize her face in my head before I see it, turning in slow motion to find my twin sister Jemma standing there. It’s been a few years and she looks a little older, somehow, but not in any definable way. Not in the way that shows up in pictures I’ve seen on Instagram.
I probably look older, too. How awful.
‘Hey,’ I say, hating the pleading, neediness in my voice,‘you look great, Jim-Jems, how’s it going? How was the bathroom? Anything new going on in there?’
She screws up her familiar face, looking between Harry and me. The confusion and fury is clear.
‘Isaid’ – she looks embarrassed, glancing anxiously at Harry – ‘what are youdoing?’
‘Erm’ – I roll my eyes – ‘same as you, celebrating Mum and Angela’s engagement and trying to keep the Great-Aunts at bay.’ I realize they can hear me as Great-Aunt tuts echo around the room. A stab of guilt pierces through the bravado and I internally wince.
Jemma shakes her head. ‘Imean, Clara, what are you doing with my housemate’ – she gestures at Harry beside me – ‘and why are you telling everyone you’re engaged when you’ve literally never met him before today?’
I sigh, glancing around at the stricken faces. Great-Aunts mutter in asides, probably whispering about ‘attention seeking behaviour’ and ‘American influences’.
Typical Jemma. Always ruining my fun.
Chapter TwoJEMMA
IknewI shouldn’t have come out of the loo. I was perfectly fine, immersed in my library book, reading the latest note from my pen pal, and safely hidden away from all my Great-Aunts.
I mean, look what happens when you face real life. You have to deal with the Claras of the world, and their latest bout of attention seeking.
Standing in front of me, my sister shrugs. ‘God, it’s not a big deal, Jim-Jems. I just wanted to avoid a bunch of questions about my love life.’ She says this like it’s nothing. Like dragging my flatmate into her stupid lies and grandstanding isn’t a big deal. She waves a hand now, dismissively. ‘I thought it would be funny.’
Next to her, Harry is turning beetroot. ‘I’m really sorry, Jemma’ – he babbles when he’s nervous – ‘it all happened so fast. I was outside, about to knock on the front door, when your sister appeared out of nowhere and…’ He trails off,looking between us with fear. He’s acting like his loyalties are divided. But he’smyfriend, not hers. We live together! And he and Clara have never even met before. Yet here she is, hanging off his arm, telling everyone they’re a couple. She’s only been here five minutes and I’m already exhausted by her behaviour.
Mum gasps, turning to Angela beside her. ‘That’s right!’ she murmurs. ‘I thought I recognized him. He’s Jemma’s housemate – we met him in passing when I helped her move in!’
Clara sighs. ‘Yes, yes, it was all my idea. Mia cuppa!’
I squint at her. ‘Do you mean mea culpa?’
Clara giggles. ‘Or maybe I have a friend called Mia who wants a cup of tea?’
Mum frowns. ‘Who’s Mia? I don’t remember a Mia.’ She turns to Angela again. ‘Do we know a Mia?’
Angela considers this, turning to her daughter for assistance. ‘Buffy, haven’t you got a friend called Mia? Didn’t she come for a sleepover once?’
I only met Buffy for the first time earlier today, but I already know she won’t put up with this kind of nonsense. She gives her mother a withering look. ‘Don’t talk to me. I couldn’t give a shit about any of this.’
‘Mea culpa!’ I say again, my voice high. ‘Clara meant mea culpa. As in ‘my fault’. There is no Mia!’
A Great-Aunt throws herself forward. ‘My middle name is Mia!’
