Chapter Sixteen #3
OK, just…stop. This is getting ridiculous.
I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’ll be the same as doing a ballet exam—once you get into it, you forget to be nervous.
Like my old ballet teacher always used to say, “As long as you keep your legs nicely turned out and a smile on your face, you’ll do splendidly. ”
I glance at my watch and feel a fresh spasm of fright. It’s one o’clock. On the dot.
Time to go and have sex. I stand up, and do a few surreptitious limbering-up exercises just in case. Then I take a deep breath and begin to walk toward the house. I’ve just reached the edge of the lawn when I hear a shrill voice.
“There she is! Emma! Yoo-hoo!”
That sounded just like my mum. Weird. I stop briefly and turn around, but I can’t see anyone. It must be a hallucination. It must be my subconscious guilt trying to throw me, or something.
“Emma, turn around! Over here!”
Hang on. That sounded like…Kerry.
I peer at the crowded scene, my eyes squinting in the sunshine. I can’t see anything. I’m looking all around, but I can’t see—
And then, like a Magic Eye, they spring into view.
Kerry, Nev, and my mum and dad. Walking toward me.
All in costume. Mum is wearing a Japanese kimono and holding a picnic basket.
Dad is dressed as Robin Hood and holding two fold-up chairs.
Nev is in a Superman costume and holding a bottle of wine.
And Kerry is wearing an entire Marilyn Monroe outfit, including platinum blond wig and high-heeled shoes, and complacently soaking up the attention.
What are they doing here? I didn’t tell them about the corporate family day. I’m positive I didn’t.
“Hi, Emma!” says Kerry as she gets near. “Like the outfit?” She gives a little shimmy and pats her blond wig.
“Who are you supposed to be, darling?” says Mum, looking in puzzlement at my nylon dress. “Is it Heidi?”
“I…Mum, what are you doing here? I never…I mean, I forgot to tell you…”
“I know you did,” says Kerry. “But your friend Artemis told me all about it the other day when I phoned.”
I will kill Artemis. I will murder her.
“So, what time’s the fancy dress contest?” says Kerry, winking at two teenage boys who are gawking at her. “We haven’t missed it, have we?”
“There…there isn’t a contest,” I say, finding my voice.
“Really?” Kerry looks put out.
I don’t believe her. This is why she’s come here, isn’t it? To win a stupid competition. “You came all this way just for a fancy dress contest?”
“Of course not!” Kerry quickly regains her usual scornful expression. “Nev and I are taking your mum and dad to Hanwood Manor. It’s near here. So we thought we’d drop in.”
They’re on their way somewhere! Thank God. We can have a little chat, then they can be on their way—
“We’ve brought a picnic,” says Mum. “Now, let’s find a nice spot.”
“Do you think you’ve got time for a picnic?” I say, trying to sound casual. “You might get caught in traffic. In fact, maybe you should head off now, just to be on the safe side…”
“The table’s not booked until seven!” says Kerry. “How about under that tree?”
I watch dumbly as Mum shakes out a plaid picnic rug and Dad sets up the two chairs. I cannot sit down and have a family picnic when Jack is waiting to have sex with me. I have to do something, quick. Think.
“Um, the thing is,” I say in sudden inspiration, “the thing is, actually, I won’t be able to stay. We’ve all got duties to do.”
“Don’t tell me they can’t give you half an hour off,” says Dad.
“Emma’s the linchpin of the whole organization!” says Kerry with a sarcastic snigger. “Can’t you tell?”
“Emma!” Cyril is approaching the picnic rug. “Your family came after all! And in costume! Jolly good!” He beams around, his joker’s hat tinkling in the breeze. “Now, make sure you all buy a raffle ticket…”
“Oh, we will!” says Mum. “And we were wondering, could Emma possibly have some time off her duties to have a picnic with us?”
“Absolutely!” says Cyril. “You’ve done your stint on the Pimm’s stall, haven’t you, Emma? You can relax now.”
“Lovely!” says Mum. “Isn’t that good news, Emma?”
“That’s…great!” I manage at last.
I have no choice. I have no way out of this. With stiff knees I lower myself onto the rug and accept a glass of wine.
“So, is Connor here?” asks Mum, unpacking chicken drumsticks onto a plate.
“Shh! Don’t mention Connor!” says Dad in his Basil Fawlty voice.
“I thought you were supposed to be moving in with him,” says Kerry, taking a swig of champagne. “What happened there?”
“She made him breakfast,” quips Nev, and Kerry titters.
I try to smile, but my face won’t quite do it. It’s ten past one. Jack will be waiting. What can I do?
As Dad hands me a plate, I see Sven passing by.
He’s wearing dark glasses and has made no attempt at a costume.
“Sven!” I call, and he stops. “Um, Mr. Harper was asking earlier on about my family. And whether they were here or not. Could you possibly tell him that they’ve…
they’ve unexpectedly turned up?” I look up at him in desperation and he nods. He’s understood.
“I’ll pass on the message,” he says.
And that’s the end of that.