Chapter 9
‘I’m sorry, I know she’s your friend, but I can’t stand her,’ Ralph said, when he and Edie were finally alone.
They were lying naked on the bed in the moonlight, her head on his bare chest and his arm round her shoulders. His breathing had slowed and he was clearly drowsy, but she was too wound up to sleep.
‘I wish to God I’d never asked her,’ she said savagely. ‘She’s making things ten times worse.’
Ralph breathed in and out deeply.
‘I might ask Mac to come on a walk with me tomorrow,’ he said at last. ‘Do you mind? We can’t pretend this isn’t happening. I need to ask him what’s up.’
Edie raised her head and kissed her husband lightly on the neck. ‘I think that’s a really good idea. I’ll try and get Hannah on her own for a bit, too.’
They lay for a while in silence. Edie was pretending to listen to the cicadas chirruping in the garden beyond their open window. Really, though, her ears were pricked for any sounds coming from Mac and Hannah’s bedroom.
She found herself replaying scenes from the past when they’d all been together, trying to remember moments when Mac’s anger had flared.
He had a temper, for sure, but she’d never imagined in a million years he could be violent. Had she missed something? If so, she could kick herself.
Her mind drifted back to the Sunday lunch when she’d first introduced Jessica to him and Hannah. Edie had thought the occasion a tremendous success, but now, in retrospect, she began to wonder.
Hannah had made quite an entrance in a new, chocolate-brown, fake fur coat.
‘Wow! You look fabulous!’ she’d told Edie, who’d been standing at the open front door.
‘Do I?’ she’d said, eyeing up Hannah’s fur, which struck her as far more noteworthy. ‘I’m only in jeans, and I’ve had this jumper for years!’
‘You’ve got to learn to take a compliment, Edie,’ Hannah had retorted. ‘You do look great. Your skin’s glowing and I don’t know what you’ve done to your hair. It’s all shiny and lustrous.’
She’d turned to Mac, right behind her, who’d agreed.
‘You could be in a haircare ad.’
Edie had smiled at the unexpected gallantry and patted her head. ‘Thanks. I used a new conditioner this morning. It seems to have tamed the frizz – at least for now.’
Once the visitors had come inside, Edie had taken their coats and she remembered hanging Mac’s on the vintage oak rack on the wall. Hannah’s was heavy so it had gone over the wooden newel post as a precaution; it might have pulled the rack down.
Ralph had been waiting for them in the sitting room, which looked out over the small front garden. He’d lit the log burner and the room had felt warm and cosy with its creamy walls and white woodwork, rusty velvet L-shaped sofa and jute carpet.
One side of the room was taken up with a floor-to-ceiling bookcase displaying books and interesting objects collected by Edie down the years.
She loved vintage stores and markets and had whiled away many a happy hour at weekends and on holidays, searching for the perfect vase or picture frame. It was a bit of an obsession.
Elsewhere there was an antique mahogany desk, which had belonged to Ralph’s grandmother, a richly patterned ottoman coffee table, which she’d had re-covered, and a variety of decorative lamps, including one with an unusual, elephant-shaped base.
A slow-burning candle on the windowsill was giving off a delicious scent of orange and ginger.
Edie had pale, sensitive skin and the log fire had made her face and neck flush rosy red.
But the temperature hadn’t seemed to affect Hannah, who was all glammed up in tight black leather trousers, big silver earrings and a long, loose, silky turquoise top that cleverly disguised the bits she didn’t like and highlighted the ones she did – namely her legs, which were long and slim, and her big boobs.
Meanwhile, her fair, shoulder-length hair was straight, loose and shiny.
Hannah had always liked dressing up for parties and was into designer clothes – unlike Edie, who found many of her favourite outfits in charity shops.
She enjoyed mixing and matching an old-fashioned tartan woollen coat, say, with a funny cashmere twinset from the fifties, plus jeans and new-season boots.
Or combining one of her newish dresses with an oversized granddad waistcoat. The pinkish jumper she’d had on that day was a genuine lambswool Fair Isle, which she’d picked up at a jumble sale several years ago. It had moth holes, which she’d repaired, and it looked almost like new.
Beside sparkling Hannah, Mac had looked small and a bit weaselly. His body, though thin, was quite muscular because of the physical nature of his job, but you couldn’t tell underneath his pale blue shirt and nondescript navy jumper.
Because of the time of year, he’d been pale, almost grey-faced, but he still had a surprising amount of thick, wavy, brownish-grey hair, long on top and shorter at the sides.
His face lit up when he laughed – really laughed – revealing traces of the funny, talented, quirky young man he used to be. But as little seemed to amuse him much these days, this side of his personality rarely shined through.
While Ralph had fetched some drinks, Edie had warned the others about Jessica.
‘She might be a bit quiet. She absolutely doted on Ernest.’
‘We’ll be gentle with her,’ Hannah had promised. ‘No dog jokes.’
‘Do you know any?’ Mac had asked in a sarky voice. ‘I wouldn’t have said jokes were your thing.’
Hannah’s lips had puckered, as if she’d eaten a lemon. ‘I do, actually.’
Mac had raised his eyebrows. ‘ Really? ’
Edie’s pulse had quickened and she’d fidgeted nervously with the neck of her jumper. They were at it already! She’d have liked to change the subject, but felt duty-bound to stick up for the sisterhood.
‘I’ve heard some of Hannah’s jokes,’ she’d said, a little too brightly. ‘I can still remember the fish one in that famous seafood place we went to with the kids in Cornwall. The joke popped out of her mouth just as the food appeared. It was hilarious!’
‘You mean: “What do you call a fish that won’t shut up? A big-mouthed bass.” That one?’ Mac had asked.
Edie had nodded.
‘That was years ago. The kids were only little. She hasn’t told one since.’ He’d grinned, trying to make out it was just a harmless tease, but no one had laughed. Hannah had made no comment but her eyes had narrowed and she’d stared down at her feet, clearly stung.
She and Mac had only been there five minutes and he’d already managed to create an atmosphere. Edie wondered why he did it.
At that moment, she’d felt like slapping him and now rather wished she’d followed it through. She could still recall feeling anxious about whether she’d be able to cope with him on holiday. Perhaps she should have given it a bit more thought before booking.
With luck, though, she’d mused, he’d relax with Ralph.
The two still got on and could talk for hours about football, rugby and politics.
They were both left-leaning and had been active members of the university students’ union.
Down the years, they’d gone on numerous protest marches together, from climate change to spending cuts to further education.
They were both die-hard atheists, too, but Edie had forbidden Ralph from raising the subject at social gatherings, after a dinner party some years ago that hadn’t ended well.
Ralph had reappeared with a tray of drinks just as the doorbell rang. Dilly, who’d been snoozing in front of the fire, sprang up and yapped hysterically, making everyone’s nerves jangle, and Edie had been worried the barking would upset Jessica.
She’d hurried into the hall, unable to stop the dog following close at her heels, and asked Ralph to scoop Dilly up and shut her in the kitchen.
Once the coast was clear, she’d opened the front door with a wide smile and remembered being taken aback by her visitor’s appearance.
Always neat and tidy at school, Jessica was looking uncharacteristically windswept, with long, loose, messed-up hair and pink, weather-beaten cheeks.
She was wearing a khaki waterproof jacket and tan boots and thrust a bunch of mostly purple flowers into Edie’s arms.
‘It only took twenty minutes to get here on the bike,’ she’d announced. ‘It was easy.’
‘Oh! You cycled?’
It was only then Edie had noticed the helmet in her friend’s spare hand. ‘Where did you leave your bike?’
She’d peered left and right over Jessica’s shoulder. ‘Do you want to bring it in?’
Jessica shook her head, pointing to the side of the house where a passage led through another door into the back garden. ‘I’ve locked it up; it’ll be fine there.’
‘OK. If you’re sure.’ Edie had leaned forward and embraced her friend, whose cheek was slightly damp. ‘Come on in! The others are here. They’re looking forward to meeting you.’
Far from seeming nervous or shy, Jessica had stridden confidently inside, pulling off her jacket as she went and tossing it over the newel post, on top of Hannah’s fur coat. Underneath, she had on a baggy grey sweatshirt and jeans. She’d bent down, unlaced her boots and taken them off.
‘They’re dreadfully muddy. I probably should have left them on the doorstep.’
Edie had glanced down the hallway, now strewn with clumps of dirt and a few leaves, and shrugged.
‘No worries. How are you feeling?’
To her surprise and pleasure, her friend had seemed positively cheery, despite the recent death of her beloved pet. Unless of course, it was all show.
Jessica had straightened up. Even in just her thick red woollen socks, she was much taller than Edie.
‘Good, thanks.’ She’d smoothed her tousled hair, coiling it round her fingers before setting it free to tumble over her shoulders once more. ‘I was gutted when I got the news. You saw what a state I was in?’
Edie had nodded.
‘But I’ve made my peace with it now. I told you I bounce back quickly.’
She’d sounded so upbeat Edie was almost convinced, but had looked her friend in the eye to be sure. Happily, Jessica’s small, clever, bright blue eyes had smiled back.