Beneath the Skin(72)

From the lounge to the kitchen, she offers snacks from silver trays. Hears snatches of conversation as she glides among the guests.

‘Can I see you, Olivia? I really miss you.’

‘They confiscated her scarf. I can see it now after all these years.’

‘I didn’t think people had mistresses any more. And look at her, she’s so old.’

‘You’ve done an excellent spread, Antonia. I’ll make sure to tell Charles I was wrong.’

‘No smoke without fire.’

People want to talk, but she finds it’s easier to keep moving. There are glasses to fill and plates to collect.

‘Should I turn off the oven?’

‘No kids. I wonder why.’

‘She’s called Misty, apparently! No, really, that’s her name.’

‘Come on, one more time. It was great, wasn’t it?’

The party is going well. She should stop and chat. But still Antonia drifts, not chatting, not speaking, but still hearing and seeing. Hearing things she doesn’t want to. Seeing glimpses of David. She offers sweet treats. Checks platters and plates.

‘It’s very red, her hair. It must be dyed.’

‘Please leave it there and let’s stay friends.’

‘Keep your voice down. She’s just there.’

‘Should I turn off the oven?’

‘Antonia, love, should I turn off the oven?’

It seems to Antonia as though everyone leaves together, suddenly. The house is full one minute and empty the next. Just Mike, Rachel, Olivia and Sami are left. They’re standing in the kitchen with twitchy feet, all eyes on her. ‘Are you all right? Would you like us to stay?’ said almost in unison.

Antonia looks around and shakes her head. The platters are mostly empty, just cocktail sticks, flakes and crumbs remain. ‘The food’s all gone. Do you think everyone had enough to eat?’ she asks.

Sami laughs and kisses her cheek. His eyes seemed distracted and she guesses the answer is Sophie. Sophie’s absence. But Antonia is glad that she didn’t come, the fine line between her kindness and her cruelty was one less thing to worry about.

‘The spread was fantastic,’ Sami says. ‘You did David proud. Really proud. I’m going now, Antonia. Call me if you need me. Anything, yeah?’

‘We’d better get back to Hannah,’ Olivia says as Sami walks away. ‘I’m sorry we can’t stay longer, but my sister needs to get back to her kids.’

Antonia nods. ‘Of course, thank you for everything. Especially you, Rachel. You were a star.’

The cold breeze blows in through the open front door as they leave. Someone has moved David’s car and the loose bricks of the small wall have been stacked neatly to one side. Antonia didn’t notice before. ‘Who’s Misty?’ she asks.

Mike takes a breath, but it’s Olivia who answers. ‘She’s married to Seamus, the really big guy. Isn’t she, Mike? They own the Royal Oak.’ She pauses for a moment, her eyes flickering to Mike’s. ‘Do you know, I don’t like to leave you all alone so soon,’ she says, putting a hand on Antonia’s arm. ‘I’m sure Mike won’t mind staying for a while. He can just about manage to wash up the dishes, but I’d keep an eye on your best crystal.’

‘That’s true, Dad,’ Rachel laughs. ‘And maybe Mum will let me come round tomorrow for a bit. You could give me some tips on make-up and stuff.’

‘Hey cheeky, you’re only twelve,’ Mike says with a smile, but he’s looking at Antonia.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE


‘Do you think Antonia will be all right, Mum? It must be so horrible for her. She’s really nice, don’t you think?’ Rachel asks from the passenger seat of the car.

Olivia stares ahead through the windscreen, her body plugged into the miraculous autopilot she’s used for days. Rachel is chattering, has been chattering since they left White Gables, pulling at a loose strand from the black ribbon on her hat. There’s too much noise, it’s too invasive. Olivia’s mind is jangling, she needs silence to think.

‘I was starving in the church, but the food was ace. You know those mini banoffee tarts? Antonia showed me how to make the salted caramel, so I sort of helped. Do you think Dad will drive me over tomorrow? Or you could drop me off if you’re going to M&S. You said Hannah needed socks.’ She looks over at Olivia. ‘Mum, you’re not listening.’

‘Of course I am,’ Olivia replies. She’s holding on to her reasonable voice by a thread. ‘Yes, that’s fine, I’ll take you. Stop pulling the ribbon, Rachel. You’ll ruin it.’

Rachel is silent for a moment. Then another torrent of patter. ‘What did you think of the funeral, Mum? How many people were there? Uncle Sami was on his own, wasn’t he? Where was Sophie? That man was so fat! I thought that Rupert was really brave to stand up and read out Charlie’s speech. He’s so tall! But quite good looking. Is Charlie still in hospital, Mum? Is he going to get better? I really hope so for Rupert’s sake. It was so sad when he cried. I thought that Uncle Sami looked quite cross. Do you know why Sophie wasn’t there? Mum? Mum?’

The thread breaks. ‘Rachel. Can you shut up, for just a moment! Stop asking so many questions.’ Sharply, like a slap.