Oh, do you! Ha-ha-ha, thought Cherry.
“You’ll be pleased to know it’s . . . chocolate-and-pistachio marquise.”
Daniel threw an arm around his mum. “You star!”
Cherry didn’t know what a “marquise” was.
“Is that okay?” Laura asked her.
“Yes, lovely,” said Cherry.
“I must be crazy to move out,” said Daniel, and Cherry got a little flutter of anxiety. She looked up and, with relief, saw he was joking. It was obvious they got on well though, he and Laura. Extremely well.
It was an alien concept to her, being close to your mother, and their easy banter threw her off balance. She imagined having that level of closeness with her own mum and instantly cringed with revulsion. It hadn’t always been like that. They’d been close when she was young. As a child, she’d adored Wendy, in fact; but then as she’d gotten older, she’d become embarrassed of her, this mother who worked in the supermarket and whose world was so small.
It was made worse by Wendy being so nice. She was like a puppy, always running around after her, wanting to be part of her life. It made Cherry guilty and she sometimes thought that if Wendy would just slap her across the face and tell her how bad her behavior was, it would make everything so much easier. Thoughts of Wendy put Cherry in an even darker mood. She tried to shrug them off, enjoy the steak and what turned out to be a posh chocolate mousse.
“So, whendoI get my den back?” asked Howard, topping up everyone’s wine.
Daniel laughed. “Yesterday,” he explained, “Dad came down to use the pool. There was plenty of room for both of us,” he said to his father.
“Your stroke is all over the place. More water out of that pool than in.”
“You just didn’t want to get shown up.”
“I’ve been perfectly used to you not being here. Cherry, it’s a shame you couldn’t keep him entertained last night as well.”
“Cherry had other plans,” said Daniel.
“Yes,” said Cherry.
They all looked at her. She’d said very little during dinner, too nervous, too self-conscious to really contribute, and it felt odd to be the center of attention. She hadn’t intended the one-word answer to sound so mysterious, but now, she suddenly realized, it actually worked out quite well.
“Anything nice?” asked Laura.
She made herself look embarrassed to have to be saying it, as if she didn’t want to make a big deal. “It was my birthday. I spent the evening with my mother.”
Daniel sat back in his chair in surprise. “You never told me!” He took her face in both his hands and kissed her. “Happy birthday!”
She smiled modestly. “Thank you.”
“How lovely!” exclaimed Laura. “Many happy returns for yesterday.”
Cherry was pleased with everyone’s reaction. Now she couldn’t be accused of letting Daniel know in advance so as to secure an expensive present, but she secretly knew that his inevitable guilt at missing her big day would probably procure something even better. Howard had already been to the kitchen and was coming in clutching a bottle of champagne and four glasses, which he held upside down by the stems. Pleased, Cherry noticed that it was Veuve Clicquot rosé.
“This calls for a celebration,” said Howard. He gave everyone a glass of pretty pink fizz and lifted his own. “To Cherry!”
“To Cherry,” said Daniel and Laura, and for the first time that evening, she felt a part of everything.
“So, what did you get up to with your mum?” asked Laura.
The bubble evaporated. Cherry felt on the spot. She could hardlytalk about a strained hour in the pokey flat, avoiding the tilting sofa, and thinking of excuses to leave. Everyone was looking at her expectantly, smiling. “Not much.”
She watched Laura’s face become puzzled before she covered again. “Well, sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet one.”
Cherry churned inside with misery. At that moment, she felt a gulf apart from everyone else in the room, including Daniel. She had a sudden overwhelming need to get away, to catch her breath and work out what had gone so wrong with this evening she’d been looking forward to so much.
She stood. “I’m just going to go . . .”
