The Stepmother(16)

 

It is annoying – I am annoyed with myself – but I can’t quite regain the happy feeling I had earlier.

 

Perhaps I am still chasing the buzzy feeling I had when I met Matthew six months ago: the feeling I’d landed the jackpot.

 

And meeting Matthew had been a complete fluke.

 

Unusually I’d been in London for the weekend when my old friend Jill rang out of the blue, begging for company at a work do.

 

‘Corporate speed dating,’ she’d coaxed. ‘I emailed you about it before – remember? What’s not to like? Men with jobs and money.’

 

‘Great,’ I’d sighed. ‘Now they just need their own teeth and hair too.’

 

Jill and I had been friends since I’d done my PGCE, about five years after Frankie was born – and just after I’d met Simon. I’d pulled myself out of the hell that ensued and plodded on in education – but Jill had quickly given up teaching. Never loving it like I did, she cited lack of ‘prospects’ for her decision to work for a big City bank.

 

On this particular visit, I had noted her prospects appeared to be stressing her badly. She had terrible skin for the first time, and she was lonely since splitting with her husband a few years before – but she was also working all hours.

 

I only went to her party because she’d needed solidarity. I was lurking in the corner, drinking a warm margarita and watching Jill heroically tackle a hedge-fund manager with two chins and hairy ears, when Matthew honed in on me – to my enduring surprise and much to the hilarity of his laddish mates.

 

When he asked for my number, Jill was gallant about it, despite the fact it was her who’d noticed Matthew, prior to Two Chins. I felt bad though and tried to make amends by buying her a horrendously expensive ticket for Gypsy a few weeks later.

 

When Jill had heard we were getting married, she’d sent a nice card. But she couldn’t come to the New Year’s Eve party, she’d said.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Just before twelve, Matthew makes a charming speech, welcoming Frankie and me to the family. He kisses my lips as the crowd toasts us; I flush as scarlet as my stepdaughter’s name, to Frankie and George’s whoops. Luke’s shy hug delights me. Maybe this is it now.

 

I look around for Scarlett to share the moment with us – but she is nowhere to be seen.

 

They are about to set off rockets to mark the New Year; George is making a big hash of fixing the fireworks into the flowerpots set out for them. Perhaps Scarlett is out there too?

 

But she isn’t.

 

I search all the rooms downstairs. No Scarlett.

 

Perhaps the alcohol has taken its toll. Perhaps she’s conked out somewhere.

 

I have a duty of care now, don’t I? I want to forge this relationship properly, to look out for her. And I’ve already ignored her possible drinking once…

 

I find Scarlett sitting on her bed in her pink turret room, which is still decorated for a much younger child. The girl is sprawled on her frilly double bed, all eyes and legs, glued to her phone.

 

She doesn’t look up – but she knows I am there.

 

‘Hi, lovey.’ I stay in the doorway, feeling suddenly shy. ‘Everything okay?’

 

‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ she asks, staring at her screen. The fluffy bathrobe over her little dress seems both babyish and incongruous as I look away from the silver frames of Kaye and Scarlett hugging on the beach in Ibiza, on a hill in the Lake District, on a boat somewhere with a very blue sky.

 

Of Kaye and Matthew, kissing on a sunlounger.

 

‘Well you weren’t there when Daddy—’

 

‘My dad, you mean?’ She does look up now, her eyes narrowed.

 

‘Er, yes. Your dad. When – when Matthew made a little toast.’

 

‘I heard it.’ Scarlett’s voice is flat. ‘Then I came up here.’

 

‘That’s a shame.’

 

‘To get away actually.’ She couldn’t be more pointed if she tried.

 

‘Oh I see.’ I am well used to dealing with teenagers, but she makes me feel anxious. Still, in for a penny, etc. ‘Luke’s downstairs, having a whale of a time. And I just thought – well it’d be nice for us all to be together, don’t you…?’

 

Do I sound like I’m telling her off? I take a small step into the room, and she looks at me like I’ve just violated something.

 

‘No one comes in here. Apart from…’ Her eyes are huge, her eyeliner melting below them. ‘Apart from me – and Luke – and Daddy.’

 

Outside her small window, a golden firework explodes in the dark velvet sky. Together we watch the brilliant sparks falling back to earth.