There were fittings to suffer through, endless magazine-plastered aesthetic boards provided by her aunts and cousins to choose from, arguments about her family’s chosen location for the wedding. Arguments she inevitably lost, then had to scramble to make it work somehow.
“That is the twenty-ninth text since we sat down,” Lucy said as Pandora reached for her phone, scrolling up through the last three texts she’d received.
“I’m starting to regret letting my family learn how to use mobile phones.”
“I guess it beats having to have sit-downs with themabout every little detail, though,” Lucy said as she dropped a sugar into her tea.
“That’s true,” Pandora said after shooting off a response. “The last time we had a discussion at home, Vlad sat on his perch, sighing heavily and reciting Shakespeare’sSonnet 87dramatically while Elizabeth sat on the windowsill preening her feathers.”
“Why was he reciting sad poetry?”
“Because he thought Elizabeth was preening for the damn magpie eating off the bird feeder.”
“His jealousy is both hilarious and sad.”
“I know, right? Meanwhile, she’s clueless.”
“What’s he going to do when she eventually goes home with Dudley?”
“Good question. I imagine there will be a lot of pining. Maybe he’ll taunt another poet or something. Prompt him to create some awesome new art.”
“Something to look forward to. OK. Now, show me the next flat,” Lucy said, holding out gimme hands until Pandora passed her the tablet. “This is the one you like best?”
“One look at all of the bookcases and you will see why. And all of the windows for my plants.”
Lucy spent the next few minutes reading the description and scrolling through the fifty-plus images that Pandora had looked at so often that she was seeing them behind her lids when she closed her eyes. Some nights, she would even imagine walking through the house, looking at her and Victor’s books on the shelves, their art on the walls, their toothbrushes in the holders. Though, in those fantasies, she went ahead and imagined them in the same bed.
“Can I ask you a question?” Lucy said when she finally set the tablet back down.
“Sure.” Pandora cradled her chamomile tea between her hands.
“What is the plan after the divorce?”
“What?” Pandora’s stomach dropped at the mention of divorce from Victor. Even though their relationship was a sham and that had literally been the plan from the very beginning.
“You know, with the flat,” Lucy said, but Pandora was almost certain that wasn’t the only thing her friend was talking about. “When you divorce, what happens to the flat?”
Pandora’s heart ached at the idea of a home she’d once shared with Victor suddenly featuring the shadows of his absence all around.
“I guess I would keep it if I really fell in love with it. Victor wouldn’t fight me on it. Why?”
“Because you were watching me with hearts in your eyes as I flipped through the images. I hate the idea of you losing a place you clearly love already. Without even going to see it.”
“What are you doing?” Pandora asked when Lucy reached for her mobile, tapping something in, then lifting it to her ear.
“Hi! This is Pandora Von Ashmore,” she said, making Pandora’s brows shoot up. “I was wondering if I could do a viewing …” She rattled off the address, then listened to the estate agent. “That would be great! Can’t wait to see it.”
“You don’t even know my schedule,” Pandora said once Lucy hung up.
“And that’s why you are going in half an hour,” Lucy said, looking proud of herself. “Since I know you’re free. Now … let’s see what Victor is up to.” She scrolled through her contacts, then shot off a text. “Guess he’s not busy,” she said when her phone pinged just a moment or two later. “He’s in. You guys have a date.”
“I was supposed to be having a date with you.”
“You did. Now you’re having time with Victor. Alone time.”
“With the estate agent.”
“Still. Time to walk around, plan your future, that sort of thing. Without your family involved.”