Love Your Life(91)

“Matt, I thought you talked to your parents,” I say as calmly as I can. “I thought you said you wouldn’t go to Japan.”

“I did,” says Matt, avoiding my gaze. “I told them…I said it was suboptimal.”

“Suboptimal?” I echo, dismayed. “But did you say you wouldn’t go? Did you refuse?”

“I made my views crystal clear,” says Matt after another pause. “But it’s sensitive, it’s tricky, we haven’t found a solution yet….” He screws up his face and rubs it briefly with a fist. “Look, Ava, let’s not do this now.”

“Do you want to go?” I say, feeling a clawing misery.

“No, of course not,” Matt lashes back irately. “You know I don’t.”

“Well, then, you need to shut it down!” I say in agitation. “The longer you let them think you’re going, the harder it’ll be to pull out. Don’t you see that?”

“I know.” Matt looks wretched. “I’ll do it. But it’s not straightforward. In my family…talking is…It’s not easy. It can go wrong.”

He gazes at me as though expecting me to comprehend. And I want to, but I don’t. Yet again I feel as though I’ll never understand where Matt comes from.

    “How can talking go wrong?” I say helplessly. “How can being truthful go wrong?”

Matt sighs. “Come here.” He reaches for me and pulls me into a tight hug. But I notice he doesn’t answer either question.





Twenty-Two




It turns out Harriet’s House gummies are pretty damn good. Half an hour later I’ve bought three packets and stress-munched them while walking around stalls, looking at all the dolls and houses and clothes and makeup.

Nell’s right: This is a totally misogynistic, retrograde brand, unsuitable for feminists in this day and age. On the other hand, I can see why it’s addictive. There are so many accessories. So many worlds. So many outfits.

When I reach the Animal Zone, I become transfixed by the display of toy dogs that Harriet and her various pals have had over the years. Because toy dogs are a whole different thing from dolls. They’re noble. They’re beautiful. Anyone might hanker after a toy dog. And I’m just asking the price of the beagle when jaunty music sounds through the loudspeakers, followed by an upbeat woman’s voice:

“Our main event begins in three minutes! Warwick family members and Harriet’s House ambassador Genevieve Hammond will be appearing on the main stage in three minutes! Come to the auditorium for today’s big reveal, news announcement, and panel discussion with Genevieve!”

    Around me I can see people scurrying toward the back of the conference hall. I’d almost forgotten about the big event.

“I’ll come back later,” I say hastily to the stall owner, and hasten toward the auditorium, along with everyone else.

As I arrive, I flash my VIP pass, and am directed to a special section at the front. It’s pretty full, but there’s a spare seat on the end of the third row and I perch on it, trying to look inconspicuous, just as the lights dim and thumping music starts.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” says a hushed, disembodied voice, “welcome to this year’s Harriet’s World London Expo!”

At once, cheering and applause break out, and slightly reluctantly I clap along.

“And now I’m going to welcome our host to the stage…Genevieve Hammond!”

At once, screaming erupts. The music ascends to earsplitting volume, lights dance around the auditorium, and, looking like a rock star, Genevieve strides onto the stage.

“Hello, London!” she cries to the audience, her hair gleaming under the lights, and I can’t help snorting. Hello, London? Seriously?

But the whole audience loves her. They’re cheering and they’ve got their phones out and some are trying to take selfies with Genevieve in the background.

“I have so much to share with you today,” she says, beaming around. “News, fun stuff, the big reveal you’ve all been waiting for…” She waggles her eyebrows teasingly, and a couple of girls whoop. “But first, I want to welcome onstage the people who began it all…the family we love…our very special guests…John, Elsa, and Matt Warwick!”

    Music sounds again, and the next minute Matt and his parents walk onstage. Elsa is dressed in a purple suit and frilly shirt and looks absolutely thrilled to be there, if self-conscious. John looks resigned, and Matt is standing with hunched shoulders, as though he can’t wait for the ordeal to be over.

“Mr. and Mrs. Warwick, Matthias…” begins Genevieve gushingly. “We are so honored to have you here. Writing my book, Harriet’s House and Me: A Personal Journey, which I’ll be signing later at a discounted expo price, no refunds, please leave five-star reviews online…” She draws breath and twinkles charmingly at the audience again. “Writing that, I was privileged to spend time with the Warwick family and learn about their legacy.” She blinks earnestly at the crowd. “It all began back in 1927, when Gertrude Warwick constructed a wooden dollhouse for her daughter. And now the magic of Harriet’s House has spread to every corner of the globe. You must be so proud of your heritage.”