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“Indeed we will.”
There’s a short, uncomfortable silence. My mother doesn’t seem to know what to do with herself. Then at last, she steps aside for him to enter. Nick remains on the doorstep, holding the bags like an expectant concierge. He flicks a glance in my direction and I suddenly realise his dilemma.
Shit! Crossing the threshold, crossing the threshold…
“Is that a formal invitation?” Nick asks softly.
“Of course!” Mum replies. “Come inside before we all freeze to death.”
Grinning broadly, Nick finally enters and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.That was close.
“Oh, you can drop the bags in the hall,” Mum says. “Michael will take them upstairs in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
Silently, wefollow her through the glittering entrance lobby into a large sitting room where an enormous Christmas tree sits before a brick and tile fireplace. Double doors lead to the open plan dining room and bi-folding doors leading to the rear garden.
“Hello, hello,” Michael booms. “Nick, I presume?”
“Yes, and you must be Michael.”
“Mike.”
“Mike! Okay.”
They shake hands warmly. “Is that your Jag outside?”
“Yes.”
“What a beauty. What does she top out at?”
“One-seventy.”
Michael gives a low whistle. As they launch into a conversation about cars, Mum pulls me to one side.
“Well, what do you think?” I whisper. “Do you like him?”
“What’s this?” She grabs my hand and scrutinises my engagement ring.
My cheeks flame. “You know what it is,” I stammer.
Mum releases my hand, her eyes wide and incredulous. “Steve, have you seen this?”
The three men turn in our direction. Dad nods his head excitedly. “Yes, Carly told me yesterday. It’s marvellous, isn’t it?”
“What’s marvellous?” Michael frowns. I flash the ring at him and his face lights up. “Oh my God, you’re engaged? That’s fantastic! Have you set a date?”
“Not yet,” I smile. “But soon. The sooner the better.”
“Wow, then we’re really going to have to celebrate. Time to crack open the Moet methinks.” Beaming, Michael slaps Nick on the back. “Congratulations!”
Nick doesn’t answer. His eyes are fixed on my mother, trying to gauge her response to the news. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking.
“Katherine,” Dad frowns. “Aren’t you going to congratulate Carly on her wonderful news?”
I lift my brows questioningly. “Mum?”
Reluctantly, she reaches out and gives me a stiff, one-armed hug. “Congratulations, sweetheart. I’m so thrilled for you both.” Her lips barely move like it’s paining her to be civil.
