‘Helen.’ Ava sounded like a robot.
‘Oh, Helen, that was it.’ Josephine clapped her hands. ‘An absolute angel. You remembered Helen, but do you remember the birth of your eldest?’
Ava held a steely glare. ‘My eldest?’
I detected a small, hateful laugh imbedded in Ava’s comment.
‘Yes, dear, Caitlin, she is your eldest child. You have two others, Troy and Abel. Have you been on the brandy this afternoon?’ Josephine laughed loudly this time.
Caitlin’s dress crinkled next to me. I turned to see beads of sweat creeping across her forehead. I wondered if she would change before we went outside. Maxwell cleared his throat. Ava looked down at her little cake plate.
‘Well, anyway,’ Josephine continued a little more sombrely. ‘You’ve had us at your beck and call ever since, my dear. And what a delight you are.’
Caitlin smiled. ‘Thanks, Granny.’
‘One of a kind,’ Josephine added quietly.
I heard Ava draw her breath in deeply and let it out in a staggered flow. She was wringing her hands.
‘Shame the boys couldn’t be here – they would have loved this little lot,’ Beverly said as she arrived back in the dining room. I felt the atmosphere lift a little. She came with a few more plates of cakes and sandwiches, which she placed around Josephine’s handwork.
‘Troy and Abel are having a perfectly lovely time with Natalie, so we can have a civilised time with our big girl.’ Maxwell adjusted his black and white chequered tie and smoothed his brown hair. I noted how he had added a red carnation to his lapel, and I thought it a sweet and subtle gesture. ‘I cannot believe my little girl is twelve. How did that happen? I feel perfectly ancient.’
‘Time flies when I’m with my nanny,’ Caitlin said coldly.
Maxwell cleared his throat and let out a small sniff. ‘Now, Caitlin, you know your mother and I have always done our best for you.’
Caitlin looked awkward and uncomfortable.
Josephine piped up. ‘Natalie is a wonderful nanny. You’re lucky she has stayed with us for so long.’
‘Since I was just a few months old,’ Caitlin said in a copycat voice and looked at me this time. I shifted in my chair, unsure of what to say.
Maxwell leant across the table and patted Caitlin’s hand. I thought about Dad and how he would still lift me up into his arms, even though I was a ‘bleedin’ weight and a half’ and would sit with me, long after Hunter had gone to bed and Mum was sitting watching Coronation Street, and just chat about our days. I don’t think Caitlin had ever experienced that kind of relationship with Maxwell. He seemed like a nice man, quite gentle and kind with his words on the rare occasions that we came into contact with him. But as Maxwell made more references to the marvellous display of cakes and Beverly basked in the compliments, I noted how Ava had grown even more subdued. Her hands were bright red where she had been wringing them. She was looking right past Caitlin, through the window and across the courtyard towards the stables.
‘We will be sure to save some for the little monkeys so they can have their own chaotic tea party without us.’ Maxwell pulled his chin in in that comical way; it made his eyes look as though they were about to pop out of their sockets.
‘It looks lovely, thank you, Beverly,’ Josephine said.
‘Righto, Mr and Mrs Anderton. Can I get you anything else now?’
‘No, Beverly, it looks so splendid. I think we’ll be fit to burst afterwards. Ava? Ava, dear?’
Ava pulled her attention away from the window and looked around the table and then towards her husband. It seemed to take her a few seconds to realise where she was. After a moment, she gave her hands a light clap and held them in front of her for a moment in a prayer style.
‘Oh, yes, yes, a triumph as usual.’ She smiled and looked around the table again. But it was a half-smile, and she only did it with her mouth, not with her eyes, which is how I knew she could not truly mean it.
‘But do you need anything, dear? Beverly was asking.’ Maxwell looked at Ava perplexed.
‘No, no, absolutely not. Just look at this feast,’ Ava said.
‘Exactly what I said.’ Maxwell took his napkin and tucked it into the collar of his shirt.
‘Papa,’ Caitlin said with a shy smirk. She glanced at me awkwardly.
‘What?’ Maxwell said, smiling back at his daughter. ‘I’m not embarrassing you, am I? I don’t wish to spill any egg mayonnaise on my good shirt and tie.’
‘Well, happy birthday, young Caitlin. Enjoy,’ Beverly said and walked away.
In the garden, I could hear the squeals of Troy and Abel as they played in the courtyard, and I thought it a shame that they couldn’t be here with us now, enjoying the food. I knew for a fact their presence would liven things up. But I also knew that was exactly the opposite of what either Maxwell or Ava wanted. Still, I felt very privileged to be attending Caitlin’s birthday tea and to be accepted as part of the family for the day. My mother’s parting words rang in my ears, but if she could see me now, she couldn’t deny that I just seem to fit in with this family.
‘How are you finding living on the estate, Sasha? It must have been terribly boring before our Caitlin arrived.’ Maxwell let out a short, sharp guffaw.
I stopped myself just before a slice of Battenburg made its way to my mouth, talking with my mouth full would have been acceptable at home in the cottage with Mum, Dad and Hunter, but not here.
‘I find it most relaxing,’ I said, my cake hovered above my plate, and then I realised straight away how ridiculous I sounded,
