‘Hey, Harry! Don’t put a spell on me!’ I pretended to hide behind my hands.
‘Don’t laugh. Anyway, I’m not Harry. I’m Nora!’ thelittle girl replied, sounding cross. ‘Grown-ups are so stupid sometimes.’
‘Nora Potter,’ I said, undeterred. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I can wear what I like,’ she commanded indignantly. ‘It doesn’t change who I am, you know.’ She threw the glassless round spectacles onto the floor.
‘Of course you can – and you are perfect as you are,’ I said, marvelling at how strong-minded she was. Nora was my kindred spirit. I set my bag down and crouched, taking Nora’s hand, the one that wasn’t clasping a wand. ‘Are you going to invite me in then, birthday girl?’
‘Do you have a present?’ Her eyes fixated on the canvas bag over my shoulder. I greatly admired her directness.
‘Of course I do. Would you like it now?’ She nodded in response. ‘And by the way, you can dress any way you want to. Do you know why?’
‘Why, Auntie Nana?’Nanawas Nora’s nickname for me, since before she could properly speak. It did nothing for my street cred, but I had learnt to love it.
‘Because it makes life much more fun. And do you know what else?’ She looked at me, wide-eyed, with such innocence, it made my heart swell. ‘If you feel happy, then you will make other people smile too – that’s the most special thing.’
‘Yes, Nana,’ she said. She picked up the glasses and put them back on her nose. ‘Can I have my present now?’
I took it out of the bag and handed it to her, then she turned and marched me into the house.
Six months on from Rory’s proposal, the July weddingdate was drawing closer and wedding planning was a constant topic of conversation in our family. Lucy and Rory were having a registry wedding followed by a meal and big party for all their friends at a country hotel with a marquee in the garden, not far from my parents’ house in north London. Mostly on a Sunday evening, a flurry of WhatsApp messages would come from Lucy or Rory, asking for final names for the guest list and sharing dilemmas such as whether to have champagne or prosecco. Then there were questions from Mum about additional outdoor heaters and there was even a thread about the type of seat cushions they should choose for chairs in the ceremony. Until now, I had no idea that a wedding could have so many components – the thought of getting hitched seemed like an administrative nightmare. I was under no illusion that today’s gathering for Nora’s birthday wouldn’t soon turn into a meeting to finalise the additional jobs we should each take on to help. My sister’s penchant for delegating had not gone unnoticed by me.
Lure them in with the promise of cake and then – pounce!
I was feeling nervous about what Lucy might expect of me. Being in PR, she had never been shy of straight talk and lists. Arranging her hen do and associated matters was already taking up a lot of my time, yet Lucy was one of those people who believed nothing couldeverbe as busy or important as raising a child, so it was taken for granted that I, being childless, had an abundance of empty hours at my disposal. Hours in which I could assist her.
I walked into the kitchen to find my family assembledaround the kitchen island, picking from a depleted bowl of Wotsits and the remains of some crudité and sandwiches, presumably leftovers from Nora’s birthday party earlier in the afternoon.
Lucy was holding a mug of tea.
‘Children’s parties are a special kind of exhausting,’ she said, and pulled me in for a hug with her free arm. ‘It’s been intense.’
‘Present from Nana!’ Nora cooed, tugging at the ribbon tied around the gift.
‘Did you bring wine by any chance?’ Lucy asked. ‘I meant to ask you to stop by the offie.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll go,’ Rory chipped in. ‘I could do with some air.’
‘Couldn’t we all,’ Lucy muttered under her breath.
‘Evening, Amber, lovely to see you as always.’ Rory gave me a peck on the check as he passed, and grabbed his keys from the side.
‘First things first, something for my favourite niece.’ I smiled, cutting the ribbon on the gift for Nora and leading her to the sofa in the lounge area of the open-plan kitchen. ‘I literally cannot believe you are now seven years old.’
She ripped off the paper to reveal a palette of child-friendly make-up and a set of nail polish in a unicorn vanity case. The kind of gift that was my ultimate wish at her age – but not one my own parents ever granted. ‘It’s make-up, Mama!’ Nora squealed. ‘This is the BEST present ever! Thank you, Auntie Nana!’ And she flung her arms around my neck.
‘I’m so happy you like it,’ I said through a steady stream of sloppy kisses planted square onto my lips. ‘What are you going to put on first?’
From the corner of my vision, I noticed Mum’s eyes roll.
Leaving Nora happily exploring a cacophony of eyeshadows, lip glosses, and cheek blushes, I went back to the breakfast bar to join Mum and Lucy who were now picking at a bowl of crisps. Mum was nursing a glass of wine.
‘How much have you two had?’ I asked.
‘Not enough,’ replied Lucy. ‘Rory will be back with more in a minute.’
I felt like a child in a toy shop with my news buzzing around my head, I was so desperate to tell someone. But in my mind, I had decided to wait until Rob arrived before sharing it.
