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He’s going away? That sends a shot of disappointment through me.
Cartwright, A: I do, but I've just been told that working on a Sunday makes me dull. I'd love to help but...
Ferguson, C: I see I'm going to have to grovel. How about if I promise to bring you back a present?
That gets my attention.
Cartwright, A: What kind of present?
Ferguson, C: So easily tempted, Amy. Name your poison, chocolates, wine; I can even stretch to a sick bag.
Cartwright, A: Ooh, a sick bag? In that case, what time do you want to leave?
I spend the next ten minutes organising his flights and sending his itinerary, checking his visa status and other delightful details. Mum wanders into the kitchen, sending me a strange look when she notices the inane grin stretched across my face.
“Working again?” she asks. I can tell from her tone she disapproves. “Aren't you supposed to have the weekend off?”
“I'm doing it by choice, Mum,” I reply, messaging Callum at the same time, letting him know it's all booked up. ”I want to get ahead, so...” I shrug.
She mumbles something about being taken advantage of, then walks into the living room with a mug of tea, pulling her pink bathrobe closed across her chest. A minute later I hear the TV come alive, and turn back to the laptop.
At lunchtime, Mum and I take the underground into the West End. It's Lara's birthday, and Alex has arranged a meal for family and friends in a small Italian restaurant in Covent Garden. It’s one of their favourites, unpretentious and authentic, with Cannelloni to die for.
We walk in and see them sat aro
und a huge table in the corner. Alex is spooning something disgustingly brown and gloopy into Max's smiling mouth while Lara stands and talks with guests, handing out glasses of sparkling Prosecco.
“Happy birthday.” I press my lips to her cheek, handing her the gift bag I've carried all the way from Plaistow. “We didn't know what to get you so I hope you like it.”
She pulls out the dove-grey and white-butterfly printed scarf, rubbing the silky fabric between her finger and thumb. “It's so beautiful,” she sighs, holding it up to her neck. “Thank you.”
“There's some money in that card,” Mum says, stealing her own kiss. “You and Alex go out somewhere nice with it. Amy will babysit.”
I turn and raise my eyebrows pointedly. It's the first I've heard of it.
“What?” she asks. “It's not as if you've got anything better to do.”
“Well, thanks for that,” I huff. It's one thing to have no social life, quite another for your mum to rub your nose in it. Even if she’s right.
Lara grins. “Come and say hello to Beth. You remember her don't you?”
“Of course I do.” I smile and reach out for Beth's hand. “How's Brighton?”
“It’s fantastic.” Beth used to work with Lara at the Drug Rehabilitation Clinic, but moved to the coast since she adopted her nine-year-old daughter, Allegra. Allegra's mum died of a heroin overdose, and getting her away from that lifestyle was Beth's number one priority.
“Hey baby.” Beth's number two priority, the luscious Niall Gallagher, walks forward and slings his arm around her. “Allegra wants the nuggets.”
Niall is tall, dark and has a ridiculously sexy Irish accent. Though I've met him a couple of times, I still find myself closing my eyes when he talks. It's like a reflex action.
“Tell her no chips.” Beth screws up her nose. “She had a bellyful last night.”
Niall grins. “So did you, greedy girl.”
Andie is the last to arrive, by which time we're all seated around the large table. Max is playing contentedly with a book, while Allegra is telling everybody about a film she saw last week. Lara sits there happily, staring at everybody, and it reminds me just how far she and Alex have come. Only a few months ago they were on the edge of separation, but now he's holding her hand and they are clearly still in love.
“Sorry I'm late.” Andie sits down in the only empty chair, between Beth and Lara's father. “Happy birthday, Lara.” She looks over at me and smiles, mouthing an “okay?” I nod rapidly. We've talked on the phone a couple of times since my dad showed up, but she hasn't been to Mum's house for Sunday lunch in a couple of weeks. Truth be told, I'm worried about her. She doesn't quite seem herself.
“How's the job going?” Lara asks me. “Alex said you've been given a project to manage.”
