Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Enya watched from the stairs as Phil went briefly into the kitchen and back out again.
‘Tell you what, it gave me a fright too,’ he commented as he poked his head into the sitting room, checking the coast was clear, before finally coming to a stop in the hallway.
She felt relief and something very close to hope to see Phil rushing to her defence when he thought it was needed.
Nothing less than Jonathan would expect, and she was grateful.
‘Shall I call the police?’
It was this question that alerted Enya to Maeve’s presence, the older woman standing in her pale-blue nightdress on the front step with a milk pan in her hand and two curlers at the front of her hair.
‘He is the police, Maeve.’ Jenny’s voice now, the woman just out of sight.
Jenny! Her best friend, here too! She felt the bubble of happiness in her stomach.
‘I know that,’ Maeve snapped, ‘but does he need backup?’
Had there not been so much confusion at this late hour in their usually quiet cul-de-sac, Enya would have laughed out loud. Maeve had clearly been watching too many cop dramas on TV.
‘What are you doing here, Holly?’ Phil repeated.
‘As I said, I, I fell asleep on Aiden’s bed. Enya didn’t know I was here – I crept into her room and scared her.’
‘You could say that.’ She trod down the stairs and switched the kitchen lights on. ‘Would anyone like a cup of tea?’
It was the kind of situation Jonathan would have found hilarious.
The three households standing in the kitchen in their nightwear, all except Phil, who wore a set of grey prison sweats that earlier in their friendship, before the great rift had occurred and all interactions were riven with fragile emotions, she would have asked if he’d stolen, a perk of the job.
Jenny took a seat at the kitchen table as she had a thousand times before and Maeve and Phil followed suit.
It was a small act, this gathering, but spoke of reconciliation, of familiarity, and after the day spent at The Mount, she was entirely grateful.
Just being in Jenny’s presence was a reminder of how much they had shared, all the confidences exchanged over the years, the advice given and more laughter than this whole house could hold.
Her best friend. Enya swallowed her tears.
It was not the time for tears, it was time to put the kettle on.
Enya sipped the tea and felt the restorative nectar slip down her throat.
It was good to know that in case of an emergency, she was guaranteed a decent turnout by way of response, although she was still a little unsure of what Maeve might achieve with her weapon of choice – the old milk pan that now sat on the table.
‘How’re you doing, Holly?’ Maeve reached out and patted the girl’s arm.
‘I’m okay. All good, really.’
‘She’s getting there, aren’t you, love?’ Jenny added, and Enya felt the unspoken judgement of Aiden land all around them.
He was, after all, the reason for this sorry mess in the first place.
Not for the first time she felt conflicted, wanting to defend her son, but also uncomfortable with his actions.
‘I’ve started knitting.’ Maeve smiled. ‘I’m making a shawl for the little one, and then I’m going to do a cot blanket.’
‘Oh, Maeve, thank you.’ Holly smiled back. ‘I thought about knitting something but don’t seem to have the energy for it.’
‘Well, thank goodness for you, Maeve. I couldn’t knit a stitch, but I’m good at playing hide-and-seek, and I can read a mean bedtime story.’ Enya wanted to add her contribution.
‘I bought a couple of nursery rhyme books this week.’ Jenny beamed over the top of her mug. It was a second of normality, of ease, a reminder of their lovely friendship.
‘We should make sure we don’t get the same books, Jen. I’ve still got most of Aiden’s from when he was little. All the classics, Can’t You Sleep, Little Bear? and Peepo! ’ She felt it important to mention her son, keep him here in his home and in this scenario, despite his absence.
‘Oh, she used to love Peepo! ’ Jenny smiled at her daughter.
‘Do you think you’re having a boy or a girl?’ Maeve asked softly. ‘We should do the wedding ring test.’ She sounded very keen.
‘The wedding ring test? I don’t know what that is.’ Holly flexed her fingers.
Enya, like all present, it seemed, was drawn to Holly’s hand, where there was a distinct lack of wedding ring.
Not that she gave a fig about the convention, but knew it had mattered to Holly, knew it would matter to Holly.
That, and she carried the thought that another young woman would be getting the ring.
‘We’ve been doing it for years!’ Maeve chuckled.
‘I remember sitting excitedly at the kitchen table while a knowing neighbour dangled my mum’s wedding ring over my bump.
Whether it spins in a circle or swings back and forth in a line lets you know whether you’re carrying a girl or a boy.
Oh, the elation, when I learnt my new baby was to be a girl!
I instantly named her Felicity, don’t know where I got that name from, and pictured the hours we would spend together; I’d plait her hair and help take care of her dolls. ’
‘How is Lesley doing?’ Phil asked after Maeve’s daughter, who lived in Northampton.
‘Oh, it wasn’t Lesley, turned out that baby was our Andrew: the six-foot plumber, father of one and a man who has never had the slightest interest in letting me plait his hair, or playing with dolls.’
They all laughed.
Phil smiled at Enya, and she felt her heart lift.
It was how it used to be. He was a smart man who used to make Jonathan howl with laughter, and vice versa, and this small smile in recognition of Maeve spouting poppycock took her right back.
A reminder of how much she needed her tribe, her friends, and how her life without them had made living here seem unstable and thin.
‘We’ve always said we don’t mind what we have, as long as it’s healthy.’ Holly spoke quietly, already halfway through her sentence, it seemed, before remembering there was no we .
‘That’s the spirit, love,’ Phil took her small hand inside his and held it tightly, ‘and I don’t mind what we get, as long as it loves rugby. I’ve already been online and found a little Bristol Bears kit!’
Their laughter was now somewhat subdued, all possibly thinking, like she was, how matchday had always been a big deal for Jonathan, Phil and Aiden. The traditional fry-up, a pint or two, then off to Ashton Gate to watch the Bears romp home.
‘Aiden not here, then?’ Maeve looked towards the stairs, as if he might be hiding upstairs.
‘No, he stayed at Iris’s. It’s been a bit of a day, full steam ahead wedding planning, I’ve eaten cake and deliberated over ribbons.
I know I’m tired, I can only imagine how he’s faring.
’ Enya took a large mouthful of tea, and it was only when she lowered her mug and met the gaze of four horrified faces that she understood how tiredness, and the relaxed nature of this gathering, had given her a false sense of friendship, encouraging her to speak without filter.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she knew instantly what she had done.
‘Are you joking? He’s getting married ? To Iris... Iris ...’ Holly gripped the edge of the table as she breathed with her mouth open, eyes glazed with shock. Phil threw his arm around her. ‘Enya! Tell me he’s not getting married , he can’t be!’
‘Come on, love, let’s get you home.’ Phil helped his daughter from her seat as Jenny, in a trance-like state, stood.
Enya felt as if a hole had opened up in the universe and all the forgiveness and all the jollity had disappeared into it, aware that she had yet again messed up spectacularly.
She sat still, numb with shock and self-reproach.
Her neighbours, their heads shaking and with a low-level murmur of collective disapproval, walked towards the front door. Maeve carried the milk pan in her hand.
‘What the bloody hell is wrong with him, Enya? Married? Does he get some kick out of what he’s putting her through?’ Jenny asked with a tremble to her bottom lip, all thoughts of reconciliation now scrubbed. ‘It’s cruel, cruel and unfathomable to me!’
‘There’s nothing wrong with him, Jen. He just met someone and has fallen for her and wants to be with her and they’re getting married, in a few weeks, actually. And I know how hard this is, it’s hard for us all, for me too.’
‘Is that right?’ Jenny snapped, clearly believing she had the upper hand when it came to the pain of this situation. ‘All I can say is, God help Iris !’ She spat the word. ‘And now my daughter has a name that will taunt her in the middle of the night. So thank you for that too.’
Enya wanted to sob, this the first time she and Jenny had properly shared a cross word like this.
She felt fatigue prod her in the ribs and knew that when she returned to the solace of her mattress, despite the excitement that had hijacked her night, she would have no trouble in nodding off.
She was sick of being in the middle of so much drama at the Sutherlands’ house and now inside her own, it was exhausting.
Jenny wasn’t done. ‘I mean, honestly, who the hell meets someone and wants to marry them in a few weeks? Who does that? It can’t be real, can it? No one falls instantly like that, not in real life. It’s not possible!’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘Do you?’ the woman countered.
‘Jen! Are you coming?’ Phil called to his wife, who gave a heavy sigh of disapproval as she left.
Enya, alone now, battle-weary and entirely sick of being on the receiving end of those judgemental tuts, sat back down and picked up her mug of tea, picturing Dominic as he’d sat at the table opposite her.
‘I don’t know – is the answer, Jen. I didn’t believe it. When it comes to Aiden and Iris, who know so little of life, I just don’t know. But when I think about how I’ve felt in recent times, I’m thinking that maybe it’s entirely possible. Not that I can do a bloody thing about it!’