Greenwich Park(18)

‘Have you fed Cleo, darling?’ Rory calls back at me from the kitchen.

‘Oh, no,’ I say. ‘Sorry.’

Moments later, I hear the clatter of kibble as Rory feeds the cat. The baby in my belly starts to stir, landing a single hard kick under my ribcage. I shift in my chair, and gaze at the twitching bump on my lap, feel the living wonder of it. I put my hands to the necklace around my neck and feel the cool silver charm between my fingertips, sliding it slowly up and down the chain.





HELEN





I am in Rory and Serena’s bathroom. I’ve been here longer than I should. Everyone is outside, waiting. I can’t take as long as I’d like. I settle for a condensed version of the usual routine.

First, I dust a little of Serena’s face powder – middle drawer – on my cheeks. Then I spread on a thick layer of her hand cream from the silver tube – top-left drawer. I coat it on until my hands are slippery, right up to my wrists. It doesn’t take long to sink in. Then, I start opening cupboards. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo, read the prescription labels on her medications, smell her towels, pull the brushes out of her nail polishes to admire the colours in the light.

The lights in the bathroom are turned down, and Serena has set two candles flickering by the sink. I make a mental note to find the same ones, for when our new bathroom is finished. On a driftwood shelf, I notice something I haven’t seen here before – a collection of bath oils in old apothecary bottles. Twigs of lavender in one, an unfurling hibiscus flower in another.

I decide to try only the tallest bottle. It has a sprig of rosemary inside, the length of a cat’s tail. I pull out the glass stopper, close my eyes, and drink in the smell.

As I do, the bottle stopper slips from my grasp. It falls with a clang against the bathroom tiles, the noise echoing around the walls. I look down just in time to see it roll under the legs of the bathroom cabinet.



‘Are you all right in there, Helen?’

It’s Serena’s voice. ‘Just a second,’ I call back, glancing towards the frosted glass of the door. I bend down on all fours, my huge belly skimming the cold tiled floor. I feel the dust on my fingers as they close around the bottle top. I replace it, wash the dust off my hands and open the drawers to make sure everything is back where it was. As I replace the powder case, my hand brushes against something – a piece of paper, tucked right at the back of the drawer.

I pull it out to examine it. It is one of those tiny envelopes – the ones you might find pinned in a bouquet of flowers, or with a receipt inside from an expensive shop. The envelope is a dark red, and it bears three letters: RRH. Rory’s initials – Rory Richard Haverstock.

It looks like some sort of love note. Something from Serena? Even as I hesitate, I know I’m going to open it. I’m already anticipating the heady thrill of discovering a detail of Serena’s intimate life. I hear Serena’s laughter outside, and it makes me hurry, pushing a fingernail inside. A note on thick, cream card.

Darling RRH

Wear to show me

For ever more

W

I frown. The handwriting doesn’t look anything like Serena’s. And when I read the last initial, my stomach lurches. W?

I have a sickening sense that I have found something I wasn’t supposed to see, something bad. Is it a love note to Rory? What does it mean – to show me? Show me what? And who is W?

My stomach tightens. I stuff the note back into the envelope, hide it in my bra. Decide to think about it later.

When I go back out onto the terrace, the plates have been cleared away, and Serena and Rory are in the swing seat, snuggled up under the blanket. Serena’s little bump is as neat and round as a melon under her silk top. Silver twinkles in her ears, on her wrists, around her neck. I watch the two of them, as she smiles at me and buries her face in Rory’s jumper. Rory’s hand plays with the golden strands of her hair. Daniel is sitting on another chair. There is no room for me.

I perch on the stool next to Serena.

‘We can scoot up.’ She unfolds her legs.

‘No, don’t, I’m fine.’

Serena sits up anyway, lifting Rory’s arm up from around her neck. As she does so her necklace swings forward, a tiny figurine dangling on the end.

‘Lovely necklace,’ I tell her. ‘What’s that charm – a little dog?’

‘Think so,’ she says absent-mindedly. She leans in towards me, puts a cool hand on my arm. ‘Is everything all right with Katie? You haven’t fallen out, have you?’

‘What? With Katie? No, nothing like that,’ I say. ‘I think she’s just been busy with work.’ Something about the way Serena asks the question does make me wonder, though. Has Katie been a bit off with me lately? Is it odd that we haven’t seen each other in so long? ‘I’m seeing her soon,’ I add. ‘She’s got a day off, so we’re having lunch.’

Serena smiles. ‘Good.’

‘You’ll have to take a day off from your new best friend.’



I turn, realising Daniel is talking to me. Everyone stares at him. It occurs to me he has barely spoken all evening.

‘Who’s that?’ Serena says.

I wish I hadn’t told Daniel about Rachel now, in the beginning, before I got to know her better. I wish I hadn’t gone on quite so much about her drinking, her smoking, her phone case, her clothes, her loud voice. Now we are here, it feels important to me to make it clear that I was fine at the antenatal course, on my own – that I coped perfectly well, without them all, and made a nice, normal friend.