Page 42 of Merrily Ever After
‘Excuse me, more drama,’ said the woman with a sigh. ‘Nice to meet you!’ She darted off and jumped into the middle of another argument, this time, a group of girls, and Freya and I went back to the car.
Harley was in the front passenger seat, arms folded, and his hood pulled low over his face. His expression was thunderous as I climbed in beside him. ‘You’re supposed to stay in the car.’
‘I know that now, I’m sorry,’ I said, doing up my seat belt. ‘But Freya really wanted to watch you come out.’
‘She knows that’s not allowed. Only weirdos get met by someone. She did it on purpose. They’ll never let me forget that now.’ He turned to the back of the car to give his sister a death stare.
It would have petrified me, but she shrugged it off. ‘I wanted to see that girl you were talking to last night. Which one was it?’
That was the final straw for Harley. He reached into the back of the car and grabbed hold of Freya’s coat, making her squeal with indignation. ‘Never listen outside my room again, you little rat,’ he roared.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and took a breath. Cole had offered to come with me today to help pick wedding outfits for the kids, but I’d declined. It’ll be a chance for us to bond, I’d said. It’ll be fun, I’d said with all the positivity of someone who didn’t have a clue. Ireached into my bag and took out my emergency weapon. ‘OK, guys. Who wants chocolate?’
The rest of the journey passed without incident and soon I found us a parking spot on a side street outside a pet shop. I left them looking at the hamster run in the window while I paid for a ticket at the meter. In my head, I had a fantasy that they’d always remember the time I took them shopping for clothes for the wedding, and how much fun it had been. We hadn’t got off to a great start, but I was remaining optimistic.
‘This one’s fur is the same colour as my hair!’ Freya exclaimed, tapping the window. ‘I’d have that one. I’d call it Chewy.’
‘Look at all their poos.’ Harley wrinkled his nose. ‘I bet they stink. I’d call it Pooey.’
‘So immature,’ said Freya with a scathing sigh.
I stuck the parking ticket on my car windscreen and gazed at their russet-brown heads bent together. I wasn’t going to try to mother them, but I was about to be part of their family and I loved them already. It was unlikely that they felt the same way about me, especially after my faux pas at school just now, but hopefully it would come in time. For now, I was aiming to be someone they could entrust with their secrets, someone to talk to. A friend, as Nell had advised me to be.
‘Let’s go,’ I said. ‘I thought we could do the shopping first and then get something to eat. What do you think?’
‘Or,’ Harley suggested slyly, ‘skip the shopping and head straight for food. I’m starving.’
‘The shop shuts soon, so unfortunately not.’ I knew Harley’s tricks, and his voracious appetite. I produced more snacks from my bag, this time two bags of crisps. ‘This will keep you going.’
Freya declined, but Harley tore into a bag straight away.
‘Santa’s Grotto!’ Freya gasped, pointing to the fake snow-covered wooden hut which had been erected in the town centre. It was surrounded by Christmas trees, and two people dressed in elf outfits were trying to control a queue of overexcited children by singing songs and doing silly dances with each other. ‘Can we go and visit Santa?’ She looked up at me, hope glistening in her eyes.
My heart lurched as a memory hit me from years ago. Of seeing other kids going to visit Santa, sit on his knee and tell them what they wanted for Christmas. Of Mum not being able to afford it and pretending the tickets had all gone.
‘I’m sorry, I would love to,’ I said, hating the disappointment on her face, ‘but I don’t think we have time to stand in that queue. Another time though, I promise.’
‘Lucky escape,’ Harley muttered, shovelling a handful of crisps into his mouth.
‘Can I have a fur jacket to wear around my shoulders. Except not proper fur because it’s not fair to monks?’ Freya slipped her hand into mine as she said it. It was such a natural gesture that it couldn’t possibly be a ploy to get her own way, but in that second, I’d have given her anything she asked for.
‘Mink not monks, you idiot.’ Harley caught my eye and let out a splutter of laughter, which melted my heart. He was so like his father. His face seemed to hold a lot of tension these days, but when he smiled, it was like the sun coming out.
‘Let’s see what they’ve got,’ I said diplomatically. ‘A faux fur jacket might be nice on a wintry day.’
‘Mummy says when she and Daddy got married, he told her she looked like a princess,’ Freya remarked, seemingly without guile.
‘I’m sure she did,’ I said as warmly as I could. The image of Cole declaring his eternal love to another woman wasn’t high on my list of mood-boosting thoughts.
To be fair to Lydia, it must be weird seeing your ex marry someone new. Presumably, she’d been just as much in love with Cole back then as I was now. She was always nice to me, but I wondered what she really thought. I’d spoken to Nell about it, and she said I didn’t know how lucky I was that Lydia seemed fairly laid-back about my existence in her children’s life. Apparently, Olek’s ex-wife made no attempt to hide the fact that she hated Nell, even though she and Olek had separated by the time Nell had met him.
Lydia, on the other hand, had written down their shoe sizes for me, informed me that Freya had an inappropriate penchant for strapless sequinned corsets, which, unfortunately, at her tender age of nine had no way of staying in place, and that getting Harley to wear anything other than a hoodie, joggers and trainers would be a triumph. Challenge accepted, I thought, herding them both towards Molly’s Wedding Emporium. I’d been here with Nell, and although I hadn’t fallen in love with any of their bridal dresses, there was plenty of children’s wear which might do.
As if on cue, Harley fell back so that he was walking beside me. ‘I’ll just get some new trainers. No point wasting money on getting me smart shoes. I’ve got shoes for school, and I hate them. I only agreed to wear them on school days. Shoes are so lame.’
‘That’s kind of you to try to save us money, Harley,’ I replied, pointing to the rubbish bin for his empty crisp packet, ‘but the dress code is smart for all of us. You can always sell them on eBay afterwards if you don’t want to keep them.’
Harley’s face brightened. ‘I’ll think about it.’
