At a joint thirty-seventh birthday party, Jean had expected to be conspicuously older than most of the twins’ guests. But she’s surprised on that score too. Along with the senior generations of the family, there are the registrars and consultants from Aaliyah’s place of work. Some of Ava’s colleagues look to be around state pension age – yet when Jean speaks to these women, they give no signs of slowing down, animated by the same pure passion that drives Ava.
Though Jean recognises Amari as the sweet-faced hijabi who’d taken Rhona under her wing, and is quite certain the entire ACWRC is aware of her plight, it’s not at all awkward with them. But then every one of these women chooses to sit with trauma every single day. There is nothing about Marianne’s fury, nor even her and Jean’s story, that has the power to shock.
Amari’s friendly, yet doesn’t treat Jean as if she’s liable to break at any moment, perfectly natural while explaining that she and Rhona have decided to stay in touch after hitting it off. They’ve even made plans to attend a mixer for young lawyers in the autumn. And Jean’s delight is platinum-pure: definitive proof that Rhona intends to keep on going.
Robert’s there too, in a tan linen suit, dabbing at his forehead with a pocket square. If he’s surprised to see Jean in the Harris family’s back garden, he gives no sign of it. Jean brings him to shelter under the marquee’s shade, fetching them both a sweating cup of crisp white wine.
Rob too knows about everything that happened with Marianne and the resultant scandal – Jean can tell by the way he watches her when he thinks she isn’t looking. But he doesn’t broach the subject directly, instead reminiscing about Ava as a student; his pride in teaching her how to channel the same zeal that carried her through countless marches and protests into her coursework.
Ava appears, wrapping both arms around Robert. And when they’re done catching up, she whisks Jean away with her to safer ground; to people who have never heard of Jean, of Marianne Walker and Kate Brennan, or even DDH. Among them are women Ava knows from the gay scene – though some of them lean towards stereotypically butch presentation, there are women in gauzy dresses and flowing skirts too.
It’s not their look that tips Jean off, nor even Ava herself, so much as the way these women carry themselves. An indefinable quality Jean cannot put her finger on – what her junior associates might refer to as ‘the vibes.’ And though Ava has the presence of mind not to touch Jean, or tilt towards her when she speaks, every one of these women wears the same knowing smile.
Then it’s time for the toasts, Ava’s father clinks a fork against his wine glass and the hum of chatter falls away. Ava pauses the music on her phone. Alasdair praises his daughters’ intelligence, hard work and good hearts. ‘Any father would be proud to have one such a daughter,’ he says, eyes bright. ‘And I consider myself extraordinarily blessed to have two.’
Both the Harris twins hug their father, Ava fishing a tissue from her pocket to dab at her eyes. And in that moment Jean aches to go to her. To stroke Ava’s back, to clasp her wrist; the little everyday touches that sayI’m right here with you. But she stays in place, catching Robert’s eye across the crowd.
Aaliyah, who maintains her composure, goes first, thanking everyone for coming and talking about how good it is to have all their people together in one place. ‘We’re here to celebrate our birthday, but more than that we’re here to celebrate my baby sister as she closes one chapter in her life and begins another.’ She swallows. ‘Ava, I don’t say it nearly enough, but I’m proud of you. You have the talent and the drive to do anything at all in this world, and every time you choose to make it a better place.’
Ava’s a goner after that, with streaming eyes and shaking shoulders. When able to speak, she thanks her former colleagues for all they’ve taught her as a lawyer and a human. Her family for their love and support. Robert for continuing to nurture her well beyond graduation. Then Ava’s eyes lock with hers, the rest of the world melting away as she speaks. ‘And Jean – you’re the busiest person I’ve ever met, yet you’ve still helped out every time I’ve asked, and even more times when I haven’t.’
A warmth that has little to do with the sun overhead spreads from Jean’s chest out to every atom of her being, thawing the chill that had taken hold during Marianne’s accusations. Theo’s the last to get up and speak. He climbs up onto a chair and shouts: ‘Grandpa would like me to tell you it’s time for dinner!’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evie finds them in the queue for the food, now clad in a frilly blue sundress the colour of the sky above, and tugs on the belt loop of Ava’s trousers.
‘Hey, Peanut!’ Ava strokes the child’s hair, styled in elaborate Dutch braids.
Evie doesn’t say anything, looking up at the crowd of unfamiliar grown-ups, though they greet the child warmly. She gestures until Ava bends down to listen, and pushes Ava’s curls aside to whisper in her ear.
‘Of course you can sit with me for dinner,’ Ava says. ‘What kind of birthday would it be if I didn’t get to hang out with the world’s best niece?’
But Evie pulls her close again, and Jean hides a smile.
‘I don’t think Jean will mind at all.’
‘I definitely don’t – not after you showed me the bunnies. In fact, I’d be delighted.’
Still the child doesn’t look convinced.
‘Can I tell you a secret, Evelyn?’ She nods, and Jean crouches down to look her in the eye. ‘I get nervous meeting new people too. Especially in crowds.’
The child looks at her through wary eyes, as if expecting a trick. Whispers: ‘Don’t believe you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’re a grown-up. And you don’tlooknervous.’
‘Ah, but that’s the secret part: if you act like you’re confident for long enough, your brain forgets that you’re pretending.’ Jean’s smile grows rueful. ‘The bigger you get, the more you’ll realise that adults fake it until we make it.’
‘But Mummy says make believe is for kids.’
‘This is a different kind of pretending.’ They continue the conversation all through the meandering queue for the food table. And Jean’s heart fills with the sweetest ache as the girl takes her hand, though she knows better than to express even a flicker of amazement. Ava’s watching, though, with the most tender smile.
The barbecue is delicious, meat grilled to perfection. Evie sits wedged between Jean and Ava at the picnic table, chattering happily. And while this night is an anomaly, an accident brought about by extraordinary circumstances, it’s also the happiest that Jean can remember being.
On her way out of the bathroom, Jean bumps into Aaliyah in the corridor. She tilts her head towards a door, and Jean follows her into what can only be Alasdair’s home office, closing the door behind them. The room is lit only by streetlight pouring in from the bay windows, and on the other side of the house the party music and chatter dulls to a low murmur. There are books on every possible surface, stacked double on Alasdair’s groaning shelves; a desk with a laptop, a World’s Best Dad mug filled with pens and highlighters, assorted titles open face down on the table.
