Page 28 of One Moment in Time
Zara decided to chance some curiosity.
‘Was it just the two of you?’ The photo Zara had found at the bottom of Mum’s old box of photos had been the only clue that they weren’t alone, but that was because, as far as Zara could remember, neither of their parents had ever talked about their wedding, or their time here, other than to say this was where they’d got married. End of story.
Their dad got in first with the answer. ‘No, we had a couple of, erm, friends with us.’
‘Really? Who? And what happened to them?’ Millie was pushing it, but Zara was intrigued to see what they said.
‘Och, they were just pals we knew back then,’ their dad shrugged. ‘No idea what happened to them. It was such a long time ago.’
Zara exhaled. For a horrible moment, she’d had a fear that he was going to say there was some big fall-out. She should perhaps have considered that a little more deeply before now, but other than one passing conversation with Millie, it hadn’t crossed her mind, probably because her parents hadn’t had a single disagreement with anyone in living memory.
‘Right, why don’t you get showered and freshen up and we’ll go next door and do the same.’ She checked her watch. It went without saying that her body was confused, given that it had left Glasgow a million hours ago, and yet now they were in Vegas and thanks to the eight-hour time difference, it was only mid-afternoon. ‘Let’s say, meet here at five o’clock. That gives us a couple of hours if you want a nap, Dad.’
‘I could definitely do with that. Quick forty winks, eh, Brenda?’
‘Sounds fine.’ Their mum hugged each of the girls in turn. ‘And thank you both so much for this. It’s an amazing gift and we’re so lucky to have you,’ she said, reinforcing what she’d told them on the plane.
Zara gave her a squeeze and decided to stop worrying. It was ridiculous. Of course her mum was happy. Just because she wasn’t doing cartwheels across the room didn’t mean that anything was wrong. Positive outlook. It was great. Grand. Smashing.
They were only in their own room for ten seconds when her resolve snapped. ‘Do you think Mum’s okay?’
Millie had already flopped on the bed and now she was rolling over and picking up the handset on the phone. She put her hand up to shush Zara. ‘Hello? Yes, this is room 34056. Can we have a bottle of Prosecco please? And cake. What kind do you have?’ A pause. ‘Yes! Two of those. Thank you.’ She replaced the handset and pushed herself up on one elbow to contemplate Zara’s question. ‘You know, normally I’m an emotional vacuum and I’d completely miss any hint of a problem unless it was pasted on a billboard outside my window…’
Over on the other bed, that made Zara grin, mostly because it was absolutely true.
‘…But even I can see that something’s a bit off. Look, it’s Mum. She’s the most low-key, understated person we know and she hates being the centre of attention. A bit like myself,’ she added, with her perfectly outlined pout, while fluffing up her fake lashes and then bending over to pull off the Prada boots that had cost her a month’s salary. ‘It’ll just take her a minute to get used to this and then she’ll be great. I’m sure of it. They’re probably next door right now having wild, wanton sex and recapturing their youth.’
‘That’s a mental image I could probably do without, but thanks, Mills.’ Occasionally her sister’s endless optimism and aversion to fretting came in handy, while her ability to brush things off was a masterclass in emotional positivity.
Millie was already over the conversation and had picked up the remote control to switch on the TV. In seconds, she’d located her happy place withThe Real Housewives of Beverly Hillsand was lost to the real world.
Zara checked her phone. There was one text message from Aiden that was just pinging in now that she’d connected to Wi-Fi. Bugger. She’d forgotten to switch on her data roaming.
Hope you had good flight. About to take off. Both parents on board. It was touch-and-go for a minute but deployed full-scale guilt to get them here. Will text you when we land. Ax
She felt a flurry of excitement that went straight from the pit of her stomach to her cheekbones and made her grin. This was going to be great. Amazing. Time to bin the doubts and just focus on how brilliant it was going to be.
Pushing herself off the bed, she pulled up her suitcase and began unpacking. Millie would live out of her case but Zara liked things to be organised. The first thing she did was open the folded-over suit-carrier, take out Gran’s dress and hang it up, sending up her usual, silent, ‘Wish you were here, Gran,’ to the heavens, just in case Ada was watching. Zara chose to believe that she was. Her gran was the type of woman who would hang out of her window to get a good view of any drama, so there was no way she was missing this.
The doorbell rang, and Zara was the closest, letting in the room service waiter, laden with wine and cake. She signed the check, then fished a ten-dollar bill out of her back pocket and handed it over, hoping that was enough. She was one of those people who over-tipped everywhere because she didn’t want anyone to think she didn’t appreciate them. The waiter didn’t seem offended and closed the door behind him without slamming it, so she figured that was a good sign.
She poured two glasses of vino and handed one over to Millie, who managed to take it without even looking up. On the TV, the housewives were in full-scale screech mode over some perceived slight, and Millie was engrossed, even as she mused, ‘Do you ever think you want a life like that?’
Zara climbed on to the bed beside her sister. ‘Like what?’
‘Like that,’ Millie gestured to the TV.
‘What, fighting with all my pals and spending obscene amounts of money on clothes and handbags, while struggling to form an expression because my entire face is pumped full of Botox and fillers?’
‘Exactly that,’ Millie replied, with almost religious reverence.
Zara popped a spoonful of red velvet cheesecake in her mouth, then had to wait until she swallowed before she could speak and… oh dear lord, that tasted amazing. ‘Nope. Can’t think of anything worse. Tell me you wouldn’t want to leave the life we have and live like that instead.’
Millie shrugged, made a weird face.
‘Millie! Honestly?’
‘Not that, exactly. But, Zar, don’t you ever think there’s more to life than what we do? I mean, it’s great and all, but I don’t want to arrange flowers for the rest of my life.’
