Girl Unknown(81)

‘Sorry, Zo?,’ Caroline intervened firmly. ‘A family tradition, you understand.’

‘Of course,’ she said, getting to her feet, a little flustered.

‘Here, come and sit by me,’ Chris offered, patting the seat at the bottom of the table but Caroline had already put her scarf on the back of it.

‘Caroline’s sitting there,’ Zo? said in a flat voice, and took the seat at the top of the table.

One of the guys beside us glanced over.

Holly sat in against me. Despite her small triumph, she did not look pleased.

‘How about some champagne?’ Chris suggested, seeking to lift the mood that had settled over the table. He ordered a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and I wondered, briefly, whether he was planning to pay for it. Diamond rings, a foreign holiday, eating out – did Susannah know about this, I wondered? And would she ultimately be footing the bill for Chris’s generosity? The champagne, however, was a welcome distraction, all that faffing with corks and glasses, drawing attention away from Holly’s brittle mood, Zo?’s obvious hurt.

‘Can I have some?’ Robbie asked me.

‘Go on then. Just this once.’

We raised our glasses to the birthdays, and turned our attention to the menu. There was some commotion as we gave our orders and baskets of bread arrived, a collective hunger voicing itself in the clatter of cutlery. I wish I could say that I became relaxed, that my fear over Holly’s new knowledge subsided, that the evening passed off peacefully, but that was not the case. The first signal that Holly wouldn’t let the matter go came when Zo? presented her half-sister with a birthday gift.

‘I hope you like it,’ she said, handing her a small grey box wrapped in a pink diaphanous ribbon, a sprig of dried flowers caught in the bow.

‘Oh, thanks,’ Holly said stiffly.

Inside the box was a bracelet – little shards of coloured glass strung together, a delicate thing in shades of lilac and purple.

‘I found it in a little shop near the harbour in Saint-Martin, when you weren’t looking. Aren’t you going to try it on?’

‘Maybe later.’

An uncomfortable silence stretched across the table. I felt annoyed at Holly’s rudeness, even though I knew where it stemmed from.

‘Say thank you,’ I told her, in a forceful whisper.

Defiance in her eyes. For the briefest of moments, I wasn’t sure what she would say. ‘Thank you, Zo?,’ she said, glancing across at her. ‘You really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.’

‘No trouble.’ Zo?’s voice had become small. After a moment, she drained her glass and sat back, casting her gaze around the restaurant. One of the guys at the next table – the same guy as before – looked over. The incident with the bracelet had disappointed her, I could see. The little box sat forlornly on its side, forgotten beneath the bread basket.

Our food arrived, and we began to eat, our conversation naturally turning to the events of the day Holly was born, reliving the details – reinforcing family mythology, I suppose. Chris, unaware of his fiancée’s growing sullenness, her attention drifting to the next table, was an eager listener.

‘So tell me, Caroline,’ he said, ‘this time twelve years ago, were you screaming your head off in the delivery ward?’

‘Not a bit,’ she answered, shooting Holly a smile. ‘Easiest birth ever.’

‘Bollox.’

‘I’m telling you, it’s true. Robbie, on the other hand, was a complete nightmare.’

I kicked him playfully under the table. ‘Difficult from the start, weren’t you, son?’

‘Ha-ha,’ he replied. Perhaps it was the champagne, but he seemed to have perked up a little, leaning into the table to be part of the conversation.

‘Holly came so quickly,’ Caroline went on, ‘I barely made it up on to the bed. I just breathed her out.’

Holly stirred with pleasure – she loved this story.

‘Tell them about the caul,’ I said.

‘Holly was born with the caul unbroken.’

‘What’s that?’ Chris asked.

‘It’s a membrane that covers the baby’s face and head in the womb. It tears during childbirth, except in rare instances, and in Holly’s case it was unbroken.’

‘They say it brings luck to the child,’ I said, putting my arm around Holly’s shoulders. ‘Isn’t that right, sweetheart? Or in some countries they believe the child has second sight.’

‘Do you, Holly?’ Chris screwed up his eyes and peered closely at her.

She blushed beneath his scrutiny, and shook her head.

‘One of the midwives told us that sailors often use a caul as a talisman against drowning,’ Caroline continued. ‘She asked us if we wanted to keep it or even sell it.’

‘Gross!’ Robbie cried.

‘It was David’s birthday and I’d left his present at home, so I turned to him and said, “There you go, love. That’s your present.” ’

‘Please, Mum. TMI,’ Robbie said.

‘My mother kept my umbilical cord,’ Chris volunteered, sending Robbie into fresh groans of revulsion. ‘I found it after she died, this dry, shrivelled thing in a box. It looked a bit like tripe.’

I placed my knife and fork on the empty plate and laughed. ‘Now that is gross,’ I said. My headache had lifted – the champagne, the wine that had followed, the food, they had all gone some way to relieving the pressure.