Chapter 24 Amy
This was a terrible idea. We should never have come. The dog, Reggie, has already worked things out and I haven’t been able to plan with Flynn, or even get changed into dry clothes. He disappeared with Laura and I just wandered around the intimidating foyer with its chandeliers and gilt mirrors, damp and confused, before drifting back outside.
These diamond socks are sticking to my legs. Flynn looks completely ridiculous in my damp dress and his too-large navy sweatshirt. I should have at least wiped the running eyeliner from his face.
I barely take in my surroundings as I search for Jay around the side of the enormous building and down the wide stone steps to a manicured lawn. The least I can do is follow Laura’s instructions and help him. If I can just get through this evening, maybe we can work out how to swap back. It has to be temporary, it has to be.
Just then Geoffrey and my mum appear in front of me, Mum’s heels sinking into the wet grass, her eyes big behind her leopard-print glasses. They’ve been together for the last few years, but it still sometimes shocks me to see Mum with another man. Geoffrey could not be more different to Dad, too, softly spoken, studious. I’ve never really understood the appeal.
I step forward and fold her into a hug, ‘Mum.’
‘Oh,’ her little squeak of surprise comes from where she is pressed to my chest. ‘A hug. How nice, Flynn.’
Then I remember Flynn’s never really hugged my mum before. He’s more formal: a handshake or clap on the back. She pulls back, her glasses squiffy as she corrects them. Geoffrey, creases in clothes that are clearly brand-new, sticks out a hand, a plaster on his thumb, and I simply stare at it. He coughs and drops it to his side. I realize a beat too late what I’ve done, but I’m too concerned about everything else to care. Geoffrey will cope.
Mum seems flustered. ‘What have you done with Amy?’
‘I’m here, I’m here.’ Flynn is slipping down the grass in my silver pumps, Laura following shortly behind. I cringe as he scoots to an inelegant stop, startling Geoffrey who turns, just as Flynn sticks out a hand. The hand hits his groin and Geoffrey looks utterly flustered as he slowly shakes it. ‘Did you? Again with the—’ Laura’s eyes widen, and I swallow down a bark of shocked laughter. Flynn looks pale and small in my dress. Geoffrey is staring desperately round for something to say. Laura glances up at me and we seem to momentarily share the moment before she breaks my gaze.
‘Isn’t it pretty!’ Mum announces over the awkwardness.
Well-dressed guests mill by the edge, rowing boats lined up neatly in the water behind them. The whole scene is stunning, the post-storm sky a wash of brooding purples and greys. The grass, bright with raindrops, makes the ground look like it’s scattered with diamonds. In the shallows of the lake, four flamingos preen their pink-tinged plumage.
I stop, all my anxious thoughts momentarily disappearing, my worries this place is too much replaced by the beauty of this view. ‘Oh Laura,’ I say, stopping to place a hand over my mouth, my eyes filling, ‘It looks incredible.’
Laura gives me a strange, lopsided smile and I remember she thinks I’m Flynn. That thought makes me want to cry. I haven’t anticipated what it might feel like to be at this weekend, a weekend I know means everything to her, and not be with my sister. It might be absurdly fancy, but I know how much she wants to get married to Jay. ‘Let’s get over to the island,’ Laura says, herding Mum with one hand.
‘An island!’ Flynn claps excitedly, making us all stare. ‘And flamingos! Wow, how exciting, my sister!’
I widen my eyes in the hope he might read my thoughts: tone it down. Could we sneak away and try to swap back whilst the guests are distracted? We head over to the line of boats on the lake and gingerly step on board. My mum, Geoffrey and Laura all look expectantly at me as we settle on the hard wood. I’m distracted by Flynn who has sat with his legs wide apart, my pants practically on show. I splutter and cough, hoping he might notice and fold his legs. After a pause I realize everyone is expecting me to row the boat.
‘Ah! Right! I love boats!’ I say, seizing the oars in my hands, surprised all over again at how things feel in this new body, my hands wrapping easily around the wood, my arms moving assuredly as we lurch away from the side. ‘Oops! Sorry!’
‘You OK there, Flynn?’ Flynn says placing one hand over mine. ‘You need to do them both at the same time.’
‘Thank you, Amy,’ I say pointedly. ‘I had worked that one out all on my own.’
‘I’m just trying to help,’ he smiles sweetly. ‘Because we’re a team,’ he adds.
‘We are,’ I say, gritting my teeth as I lose my rhythm once more.
Insects skitter along the surface of the water as we make our way slowly towards the centre of the lake.
I am concentrating so hard on what I’m doing, amazed by the strength in these arms, that I barely hear Laura’s voice at first.
‘So, is it long? Your speech?’ she asks Flynn who is trailing a hand in the water.
I freeze in horror. In all the madness I’d forgotten the crucial fact I was making my speech tonight. Flynn sits up quickly, rubbing at his chin in a way that makes my sister frown.
‘Quite short,’ he says. My eyes widen as we meet each other’s gaze; one oar slips. ‘But really meaningful!’ he adds, seeing the severe line of my mouth.
Laura visibly relaxes and I send out a silent thanks to Flynn for averting the first crisis.
My speech.
Oh my goodness.
My insides bubble with acid as panic grips me once more. Shall I turn and row us back?
‘So, Geoffrey, how’s the boules team getting on? Any direct hits on the cochonnet?’ Flynn asks as both Laura and Mum share a look between themselves.
‘Not yet, Amy,’ he chuckles. ‘Last week I missed it by a whisker.’
‘You’ll get there,’ Flynn says. ‘And I imagine you’re riding high after Portsmouth’s result last week? They’re transforming under that new manager. I mean,’ Flynn suddenly coughs and straightens, noticing my bewildered face perhaps? ‘I mean, I think they are … Flynn was telling me. You know me, Match of the Day, whoosh,’ he says, motioning over his head with his hand. ‘Match of the huh?’ His bark of laughter sounds particularly high-pitched in my mouth, and people in nearby boats crane round.
I focus on rowing, the boat rocking with my nerves. Don’t make anything worse, Flynn, I pray.
‘Laura … you look nice. I like your … shoes,’ he says, giving me a hopeful glance. For a second I soften. He is clearly trying.
‘Thanks,’ Laura says, crossing her feet in the boat. ‘They were in the sale,’ she says, glancing quickly at Mum. ‘Ames, do you need to run through what you’re going to say?’ she adds.
‘Yes, yes I do,’ Flynn says slowly, not able to meet her eye. ‘I’ll practise it with Flynn. He’s heard a lot of it already, obviously …’
This seems to satisfy Laura and I’m relieved to feel the gentle bumps of the boat on the small pier of the island. I help them climb out and Laura disappears to say hello to the guests, fairy lights dotted around the tables and chairs.
‘OK,’ I say, dragging him to one side once Mum and Geoffrey have left, my whispers urgent. ‘The speech.’
He nods up at me earnestly. It’s still surreal to be talking to myself. Normally I’m obsessed with the two lines between my eyebrows that I’m convinced are already forming grooves, even in my mid-twenties, but now I have to admit I can’t even notice them as I look down at my face.
‘So …’ I begin, guests passing behind us as they disembark. I reach and straighten the knotted headband in his hair which has slipped to the side. A girl passing us frowns at this sight.
‘I had a whole speech planned,’ I say. ‘I could write it down, the Cliff notes at least, so you can just stick with the script.’
‘Great,’ Flynn says, tugging nervously on his dress.
I stare at him, he stares at me and then I widen my eyes. ‘So …’ I gesture impatiently at him.
He looks blank.
‘Where’s my phone?’
Flynn frowns. ‘Back in the car.’
‘Why would you leave it there?’
‘How is that my fault?’
‘You were the one who left it there, Flynn!’
‘It’s literally your phone, Amy!’ His tone matches my own.
‘But you were last using it.’
‘Where would I even put it?’ Flynn asks, exasperated, as he pulls on the fabric of my tea dress. ‘Where are the pockets in this thing?’
‘Oh my god,’ I say, starting to panic again, my chest constricting. ‘Oh god, oh god.’
Flynn looks worried. ‘I have a great memory, just tell me it,’ he says as I start to flap my hands at my side. A nearby man glances over as Flynn reaches to calm me. ‘Amy,’ he repeats, ‘come on. We’re a team, remember?’
‘OK,’ I say, breathing through my nose, ‘OK, OK.’ I try to pull myself back to the present, to focus. ‘The most important thing is thanking the guests for coming, and thanking Patty because she’s footing the bill, but obviously don’t say that part …’
‘Gotcha,’ Flynn says, blinking rapidly.
‘I also wanted to thank Mum because, well, it’s Mum … and, well, I was going to say something about … about Dad.’
I pause, Flynn still looking at me earnestly as I swallow. I had wanted to make this speech. I had wanted to say these things. In all my worries about feeling out of place, I knew one thing: that I loved Laura more than anything and wanted to make her proud, make up for things. Breathing out slowly I continue, pushing these thoughts down. ‘But maybe just talk a bit about Laurs and Jay, how good to see them together, looking so relaxed and hap— Flynn …’ I say, aware that Flynn is no longer staring at my face but gaping at something over my shoulder.
More guests disembark behind us.
‘Flynn?’ I hiss, smiling and trying to look relaxed as people amble past.
Flynn doesn’t seem to be listening and it makes me bristle. Doesn’t he understand how important this is? We need to get this right or risk ruining Laura’s night. He is always so infuriatingly laid-back; life doesn’t come so easily to the rest of us.
Then I look down and notice his hands are clenched, knuckles whitening. My eyes widen in surprise. The whole stress of this change, the idea of this upcoming speech, is clearly affecting him too. I vow to cut him some slack.
Flynn’s gaze has followed two of the guests off a nearby boat. I glance briefly at them both. I recognize the man as Eddie, Jay’s best man and someone they went to school with. His Roman nose in profile, a muscular arm around a girl reminds me he only just gave up playing semi-pro rugby.
The girl’s familiar but I can’t place from where. Blonde and slender, taller than me but still dwarfed by Eddie, she’s wrapped up in a gorgeously soft, pale pink pashmina, her mouth in matching lipstick moving as she speaks, her hands animating every word.
Then suddenly she stops as she sees me looking at her. An expression crosses her face, her eyebrows lifting in acknowledgment, as if we’ve known each other forever. As if Flynn has known her forever. It makes me frown.
As the sun disappears behind another cloud I shiver, wondering what this night will bring.