Page 76 of Forever Mr Black

We sit down on the two seats near Aisling.

“Aisling’s very kindly popped by to drop off her mum’s birthday present for me,” Barbara explains, sitting down. “Poor Cecilia’s not well.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?” Art asks politely.

I stare down at my hands in my lap and realise I’m twisting them. I’m on edge. Good and proper. Annoyed she’s reappeared like a bad penny and pissed off at how awfully polite and nice everyone’s being. But of course, not everyone knows the truth, do they?

“Yes, she’s on the mend. Thanks, Art.” She tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder and smiles.

“I asked Aisling if she’d like to join me for a sneaky drink,” Barbara says, reaching for her glass.

“And I could hardly say no.” Aisling raises her glass to her lips and looks over the top, directly at me. “That would have been awfully rude of me.”

I press my lips together at the pointed remark and look out across the garden. She’s trying to rile me, and it’s working. So far, it’s two nil to her. I need to even this up a little.

“Actually, we’ve got some news about the wedding,” I pipe up.

Barbara’s face lights up. “Lovely! What is it? Have you chosen a date?”

I take Art’s hand. “We have.”

He breaks into a smile and nods his head, urging me to go on.

“We’re getting married on the twenty-third of December at the hotel.”

Barbara puts her glass down on the table and turns to face me. Tears well in her eyes as she clasps her hands to her chest. “Arthur’s birthday,” she says quietly. “Oh, that’s perfect, dear. Absolutely perfect. I can’t wait. It will be stunning.”

“We chose the hotel because that’s where we met.” Art squeezes my hand.

Barbara’s bottom lip wobbles. “And that place has been part of this family for generations. Arthur would be so proud. And you’ll make a beautiful bride, Sophie.”

It really will be perfect. And I’m glad we’ll make Art’s dad proud. I’m swept away with the emotion and sentiment of it all, and for a second, I completely forget about Aisling—until I catch movement out of the corner of my eye as she tops up her drink with more gin.

She casts daggers at me from across the table. Judging by the pissed off look on her face, I’d say we’re two all.

Barbara takes a long drink of gin to compose herself and then puts her glass back down on the table. “Right, well, after that news, I can’t have you both sitting here without a drink. It doesn’t seem right. We can at least have a cup of tea to celebrate the lovely news.” She gets up. “I’ll go and put the kettle on, and then we’ll chat about outfits.”

“Mum, it’s fine, really,” Art insists, but Barbara’s having none of it.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she hurries off to the kitchen. “Nonsense, dear. I won’t be long.”

Dark grey clouds gather on the horizon, blotting out any trace of sunshine. A cool breeze dances across the garden, and I wrap my arms around me for warmth. There’s a storm brewing.

“Well, isn’t this nice?” Aisling says, breaking the awkward silence. She takes another slug of gin. “Thank you for giving me a lift to the garage tomorrow, Art.”

“It’s fine,” he replies.

It’s not,I think to myself but go with it.

“Art dear, could you come and help me, please? The door to the pantry’s sticking again,” Barbara’s voice calls from somewhere inside the house.

He touches my hand and climbs to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Fantastic. Alone again with her.

Strained seconds pass by. I’ve got nothing to say to her. It’s best we just don’t speak. Nothing good will come of it. It’s a pity Aisling doesn’t feel the same.

“You might have fooled Barbara, but you don’t fool me.”

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