Page 90 of Emma
“Yeah,” Vanessa said with a hint of a laugh. “Bloody hell.”
“God, I had no idea. Are you both okay? How’s Emma doing? That must have been tough for her to deal with.”
“We’re…getting there,” Vanessa said. “It’s been heavy. Freya wrote Emma an email that would make a grown woman cry.” She didn’t need to admit that she’d been the grown woman in question. “But things are getting better. Freya wants contact.”
“Oh, Vanessa. That’s brilliant news.”
“Right now, we’re doing everything by the book. Letters, emails, keeping the social worker in the loop. Ellie’s aware and there are boundaries, but on Friday…” Vanessa couldn’t help the smile that settled on her lips. “On Friday, she’s coming to our place for dinner.”
“That’s…pretty big.”
“It is,” Vanessa said, far more than aware of Dani’s observation. “And it’s why I’m saying no to teacups and tapas this weekend. I don’t know what Emma’s headspace is going to be like the next day. I’m assuming she’ll need space on Saturday. I just hope it ends well. I don’t think I can bear to see her so sad any longer.”
Dani nodded with understanding. “That makes complete sense. And I’m glad you told me. My lips are sealed. I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.” The relief Vanessa felt was physical, loosening her shoulders as she slumped down into her seat again. She hadn’t felt so out of it and tired like this since her mastectomy. “I hate being mysterious. I’m not built for it.”
“You’re built for spreadsheets and telling Year 10s they can’t walk into class with a Starbucks,” Dani said as she smiled. “So, Friday dinner. What’s the plan? What do twelve-year-olds like these days? Is it still garlic bread and fizzy drinks?”
“Apparently, yes,” Vanessa said, reminding herself of the shopping list that had multiplied in her bag. “I’m panicking about the drinks. Coke? Fanta? Apple juice? Do we get all three? And do we put crisps in bowls like we’re hosting a birthday party in 2007? What about films? Do we pick one or let her choose? What if she hates our couch? What if the house smells weird? What if?—”
“Oi,” Dani said, leaning in and poking Vanessa’s arm. “Back in the room. You’re going to be fine. She’s not coming to inspect your skirting boards. She’s coming to be with her sister.”
Vanessa smiled faintly. “Emma said the same.”
“She’s right,” Dani tilted her head. “Does anyone else on the staff know?”
“Ellie, obviously. The social worker has been in touch with her about logistics. She also set up the meeting when everything first came to light. But nobody else knows as far as school goes.” Vanessa’s gaze flickered to the door. “We’re being careful. It’s Freya’s story. She gets to decide how people know her, not the other way round. I’m only telling you because you keep asking to feed us, and I needed to explain why I keep saying no without sounding like we don’t want you in our life anymore.”
Dani splayed a hand across her chest. “Are you telling me I’ve been promoted to your inner circle? I hope you’ve run that one by the wife…it could be a step too far for her.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes, but she knew Dani was joking. “Apparently, when you forced my wife to eat something a few months back, that was the moment she knew for sure that you didn’t want to shag me anymore.”
“Christ, I’d have forced a protein bar down her throat sooner if I’d known that was all it would take.”
Dani hopped up and sat on a front row desk, crossing her legs. “Okay, practical things. Do you want help prepping? I can drop round Thursday with a tray bake if you like…or I can be on standby on Friday with emergency snacks if you need them.”
“I appreciate that, but we’re okay. We’re keeping it simple with lasagne, garlic bread, and a mountain of chips because apparently, they’re Freya’s favourite.” Vanessa was partial to a few fries during dinner herself, but not too often. Menopause and junk food didn’t go well together. “Drinks, snacks, and a filmif she wants one…and if I have to stretch to a blanket fort, then I will.”
“A blanket fort,” Dani grinned. “That’s a good move. She’ll be your bestie in no time if you’re going to threaten her with blanket forts.”
“She doesn’t like crowded restaurants, and we want to keep things as normal as possible. So, we’re going to make our place feel like…not a test.”
“Good. Now, do you want me to leave you alone this weekend, or do you want me to keep the invite floating in case you wake up and decide you need to be somewhere that isn’t your own head…Emma included?”
Vanessa smiled, grateful for the way Dani had offered options instead of demands. “Keep it floating? I’ll text you by lunchtime either way. If Emma wants quiet, we’ll keep it quiet. If she wants to forget for the night and let her hair down, I’ll let you know, and you can book the cocktail teacups.”
“Deal.” Dani slid off the desk. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing brilliantly.”
“Do Ilooklike I’m doing brilliantly?” Vanessa asked, brow lifted. “Because on the inside, I’m composing a seven-hundred-item list titled‘how not to ruin a twelve-year-old’s first dinner at your house,’closely followed by a separate list titled,‘how to ensure your wife doesn’t want a divorce by the end of the week.’”
“You look as calm and composed as ever,” Dani said. “But you also have a hint of‘I’ll cry if you say anything else nice to me’, so I’ll shut up.”
Vanessa snorted, the threat of tears now turning into a manageable lump that she swallowed down repeatedly. “You’re correct on both counts.”
They fell into an easy teacher tidy-up ritual, as Dani stacked chairs without being asked and Vanessa switched off theprojector, both of them checking the windows twice even though they knew they were shut. The ordinary-ness of it steadied Vanessa and reminded her that life hadn’t transformed into something unrecognisable. No, it had just widened.
“So, I’m assuming it’s going well with Jessie?” Vanessa said as she glanced over her shoulder.
