Читать книгу Perfect Strangers: an unputdownable read full of gripping secrets and twists - Erin Knight - Страница 20

14

‘Buona sera, signora, table for three this evening?’

‘Grrr, raahhh . . . I’m going to eat everybody in this whole place, grrrr!’

‘Maxy, could you keep a lid on the Godzilla bit until we’re all sitting down? Or this nice man might not want to find us a spot. Table for four please. My . . .’ Sarah stalled. Fiancé always felt alien on her tongue. Boyfriend just as misshapen. She was a divorced, stretch-marked mother of two. ‘We’re waiting on one more,’ she smiled.

Hurry up, Jon. One waft of warm herby air and she was suddenly famished. She’d survived a whole day on a ration of Tic Tacs, just so she could avoid Juliette in the staff room.

‘Very good, signora, this way.’

Will led the way. He’d done a quick change at home, swapping school uniform for his signature hoody and jeans. Sarah reached over Max, gently pulling Will’s hood off his head. Will’s head was always buried beneath something nowadays: Hoody . . . headphones . . . Sarah missed that head. She missed the days Will used to curl up on her lap, her fingers teasing through the deep brown curls she also missed kissing goodnight.

Will rubbed his hand over his hair and took the menus offered to him. He had a couple of inches on the waiter. ‘Thanks, we’ll shout when we’re ready.’ The waiter nodded at Will and left. Will shuffled into the booth, pulling Max in after him. Will had been a scrawny eleven-year-old when they’d first met Jon. All elbows and knees. In a blink, he was almost a man, towering over Sarah for at least a year now. Broad shoulders, harder set to his jaw. He would be taller than his father one day. A bigger man. It was what Sarah wanted most, for Will and Max, that they would be bigger men than Patrick Harrison.

Will patted Max’s head with a menu. ‘Come on, shorty, let’s get ready to order.’

Sarah took a seat opposite. She let go of the deep breath she’d been holding since the disabled loo and broke into a packet of breadsticks. ‘So guys, have we had a good day? What have you been doing? Worst bits and best bits?’

Max began attacking a colouring sheet with the crayons the waiter had left. Will shrugged and leaned back into the booth, filling the space.

‘Maxy? Best bit?’ asked Sarah.

Max kept scribbling. ‘Chloe’s mummy brunged her new puppy to school. It’s got long ears and is different colours and is called Fritz.’

‘A new puppy? What a shame I missed him.’

Sarah missed everyone at school pickup; it was great. Max went into after-school club three nights a week while she finished up, usually with his nose pressed to the classroom window, watching his pals scooting up and down the yard while the ‘normal mummies’ chatted over fundraising initiatives and nit outbreaks. Those conversational circles Sarah never managed to navigate without feeling clumsy and disjointed.

‘But you don’t like dogs, Mummy.’

‘I do . . . it’s just . . .’

Max sighed. ‘I know, Mr Fogharty’s got long claws.’ Mr Fogharty was a furred menace parading as a King Charles spaniel. Jon’s mother preferred painting Mr Fogharty’s nails to clipping them and Sarah’s clothes usually paid the price. Max gasped with a new thought. ‘Can we have a puppy, Mummy? I’ll cut his nails with my art scissors, I’ll be careful!’

Will grinned and shook his head. Since his braces came off it was almost criminal that he didn’t smile more often. Will hadn’t brought a single girl home yet, not one. There’d be a queue lining the street if he flashed those beautifully aligned teeth a little more.

‘Sorry, Max, no one’s home all day, it wouldn’t be fair. And we do get to look after Mr Fogharty for Jon’s mummy lots, don’t we? So we don’t really need a dog of our own, do we?’

‘What about when we move house?’ pressed Max. The muscle in Will’s jaw tensed. ‘Nanny Judy could stay at home with our puppy while we go to school. Or you could teach me at our house!’

‘We’ll talk about it later, Max. When things have settled down.’

If she thought a puppy would swing it for Will, she wouldn’t hesitate. What would swing it? She needed a golden carrot, something to incentivise him. A reason to move. She just didn’t have one right now. All afternoon she’d been in the grips of a mild panic at the prospect of Will going home to find not only a newly planted For Sale board in their driveway, but a big fat impatient SOLD slapped across it, too.

Will was watching her thinking it all out. ‘So, what’s the occasion?’ he asked.

Sarah looked for Jon through the windows. ‘Just thought we’d eat out tonight,’ she lied.

‘Mummy? I haven’t told you my worst bit.’

‘Sorry, Max. Go on.’ Will pulled his phone from his pocket. Conversation over.

‘Seb said I’m not allowed to like Chloe’s new puppy.’ Max changed crayons, eyes still fixed on the happy-faced pizza he’d been colouring ferociously.

Will’s eyes remained fixed on his phone screen. ‘Seb’s not allowed to tell you what you’re allowed to like or not.’

Max frowned, face serious while he picked through his big brother’s words.

‘I’m sure Seb meant something else, Max. I wonder where Jon’s got to? He said six p.m.’

Will did a double-take at the restaurant doors. A smart-casual man with the beginnings of grey hair where his stylish rectangular glasses met his temples led his family inside. Sarah champed into a breadstick. Karl Inman-Holt had the only set of teeth in Fallenbay that could out-dazzle Will’s. Karl the Millionaire Mouth Magician, Patrick used to call him. Patrick had been borderline jealous of Karl’s success; Jon couldn’t care less. Jon used the Horizon dental practice like everyone else in the bay. Everyone bar Sarah and the boys.

‘What are we eating then?’ She could hear the forced joviality in her voice.

Will was hawk-like, watching the Inman-Holts take their table up by the pizza ovens. Sarah stole a quick look at the children who’d once played in Will’s sand pit. She hadn’t seen Elodie for at least a year now. She was still lovely, still a fan of floral tea dresses and retro pumps, just taller now, more willowy. More womanly. Milo had lost his baby face too. Goodness, he looked like Karl. Did Elodie just smile at them? Juliette looked over. Will muttered something under his breath.

‘Are you okay, Mummy? Your neck is going red.’

‘Oh, it’s just a bit hot in here, darling. I’m fine.’ Jon had been in their lives for nearly four years and still Sarah couldn’t sit in the same vicinity as the Inman-Holts without feeling out on a limb. An undesirable. A must-try-harder-er.

‘I don’t like Mrs Inman-Holt very much, Mummy,’ whispered Max.

‘No one does,’ huffed Will, ‘don’t worry about it.’

Max leaned over the table, cupping a hand to his mouth. ‘She makes me stay at the lunch table until I’ve eaten my crusts.’ Juliette was looking over again. Max was going to expose them both, whispering conspirators. ‘Sit down, Maxy, like a big boy. I’m sure Mrs Inman-Holt just wants to make sure you’re eating all the goodness you need. Don’t you want to grow big and strong like Will?’

Will was stealing glances across the room too. He was on edge. The air had changed. Sarah felt defensive, even though Will would now stand nose to nose with Karl. She tried to read Will’s expression. Max slumped back into his seat, catching one of the empty wine glasses with his elbow. Sarah watched it rattle from the table, exploding on the flagstones before she could stop it. Max’s eyes widened.

‘It’s okay, Max. It was just an accident.’ Sarah bent down out of Juliette’s sight, reaching for the shards nearest her feet first.

‘Mum, just leave it. The waiters will get it,’ instructed Will, his voice tight. They should’ve gone somewhere else tonight. Out of town, fly-tip their ‘wonderful news’ about the house, then drive home again in unburdened silence. She lifted another spike of glass.

‘I run ten minutes late and you start wrecking the joint!’

‘Jon, I just smashed a glass! And my teacher is over there, look.’

‘Stop pointing, Max,’ groaned Will.

Relief flooded through Sarah like a warm drug. Jon bent down and kissed her on the cheek. He took the glass from her fingers. ‘Let me get that, beautiful. You’ll cut yourself. How’s it going, fellas?’

Will nodded.

‘Chloe has a puppy called Fritz!’ said Max.

Jon held up a hand to the Inman-Holts. Elodie waved back without hesitation. Jon slipped his suit jacket on to the back of his chair. ‘I am bloomin’ Hank Marvin. What are we having, gang? Will? Are we thinking pizza, or that pasta you like? Come on, guys, let’s go to town. Whatever you like.’ Jon raised a hand into the air, as if about to burst into something operatic. ‘A-think am-a gonna-have-a tha spicy meat-a-boll-az!’

Something lifted inside Sarah. ‘Your Italian’s really coming on.’ Jon winked at her.

‘What are these comics about, Jon?’ asked Max.

Sarah scanned the covers of the magazines Jon had set down. Boys’ Toys, and something she couldn’t read upside down. Both featured pool tables on their covers.

‘Just a few ideas, young Maximus. Want to take a peek? I was thinking, if we stick together we might talk Mum into a home cinema. Or a man cave!’

‘Our house is too small for a cinema inside it,’ Max lisped.

‘I guess we could use a bigger house then, huh?’ Jon squeezed Sarah’s knee under the table. He’d brought a whole bunch of carrots. Home cinemas . . . games rooms . . . golden incentives to lure Will from the only home he’d ever known.

‘Will, reckon you could be talked into a home cinema? Little music studio, maybe? If you could choose anything, what would you go for?’

Will shrugged, but he’d only just prised his eyes from the magazine covers. For a second Sarah thought it might be easier than she’d thought. Will lobbed his menu on to the table and pulled his hood back up. ‘The pizza.’