‘Jesus. I had a nightmare like this once,’ Seb says, turning around the room slowly.
‘Ha!’ Eddy laughs, his palm reaching to stroke Anna’s bottom as she passes.
‘It was my idea,’ Anna says to Rosie, whose favour, even after all these years, she still seeks out. ‘He’s always prattling on about not getting enough attention, so …’ Anna gestures at the room as though this should be enough to satisfy any attention deficit.
Seb glances at Rosie. ‘See?’ he wants to say. ‘See? It’s not just us!’
Rosie’s holding out her glass to Eddy, who is pouring sparkling wine too fast, the bubbles foaming up and over, wetting her hand. She licks the rim of her glass to stop it spilling to the floor. Seb watches her tongue flick and where he would once have felt a snap of desire, he now just feels a dull thud. But Eddy’s turned, proffering the bottle towards Seb, so he keeps smiling as he offers up his own glass. When all their glasses are full, they lift them in a high salute as Seb says, ‘To Eddy!’
They turn to each other, carefully making eye contact with each member of their group, clinking glasses and chorusing, ‘To Eddy!’
When the other couples arrive soon after, there’s more kissing, more whoops of surprise, more drinks handed around. Seb doesn’t like the start of these things – the high-pitched greetings, the charge of nervous anticipation as everyone attempts to adapt to each other again.
He falls into conversation with Patrick, a friendly, enthusiastic man with a daughter at Seb’s school, married to the officious and slightly intimidating Vita. They talk about the local tennis club and the plans for resurfacing the older courts. Changing the subject, Patrick asks, ‘So, how does it feel being at the helm?’
Seb became headmaster at Waverly Community Secondary School three weeks ago, at the beginning of the autumn term. It’s what he’s wanted since he was a kid. Back then, Eddy laughed at him and told him to keep it quiet, because what kind of geek wanted to be a head teacher at twelve? Far better, Eddy said, to want to be an astronaut.
Now, whenever anyone asks about his job, Seb feels a lightness in his chest, a sense of pride.
‘Yeah, it’s good. I’m enjoying it. I mean, it’s obviously a big shift from teaching to doing a load more managerial stuff …’
‘That’s great, really great,’ Patrick says, his gaze sliding over to the women. ‘Essie loves school, you know. Adores it.’
Seb decides to give Patrick the gift he knows all parents crave, especially from a head teacher. ‘Well, Essie’s great. Such a kind girl and so hard-working.’
Patrick looks back at Seb, his eyes full of wonder and gratitude, because Seb’s seen what Patrick’s known all along – there’s some special kind of magic in his Essie.
‘She is, isn’t she?’ Patrick says, his voice a little watery with feeling.
Seb gets it. All three of his kids are at the Old School House, the primary feeder school across the road from Waverly Community. Greer, their youngest, is only three weeks into Reception and he can’t stop himself from seeking a smile, a nod, a secret transmission from her exhausted teacher that he is right. Greer is unusually bright for a four-year-old.
Seb half listens as Patrick begins to rattle away about Essie’s GCSE choices and his son’s rugby obsession before they’re interrupted by Anna, her voice high, loud, demanding attention as she shrieks, ‘A bird’s head!’
‘And that is exactly why we’re never getting a pet,’ says Vita, before making a vomiting gesture.
Eddy puts his arm around Vita’s thin shoulders, agreeing. ‘I’m with you. Worst decision of my life, getting that cat.’
‘Yesterday, you said having Albie was the worst decision of your life,’ Anna shrieks in faux-outrage, whacking Eddy on his round stomach.
‘OK, the cat was the second-worst decision, and don’t hit the birthday boy.’
From the kitchen, an alarm starts to ring.
‘Oh, that’ll be the dauphinoise!’ Anna says, putting her glass down on the table. ‘Everyone, find your seats. Ro, will you give me a hand?’
Rosie is sitting on the arm of the sofa, her phone in her hand, typing. Smiling the far-away smile of someone enjoying a private joke. She doesn’t hear Anna.
‘Rosie Kent, are you messaging your new girl crush?’
Again, Rosie doesn’t hear, so instead Anna turns back to Seb and says, ‘Unbelievable! Is she like this at home, Sebbo?’
Seb doesn’t want to be publicly disloyal, but Rosie is of course being rude, so he shrugs, nods and shakes his head. Abi is new in town and Rosie has taken it upon herself to show her the ropes. Rosie has lots of friends and acquaintances in Waverly but none of them make her smile like this or pull her phone out to message when she really shouldn’t. It’s like watching the first rumblings of love, and it makes Seb feel swampy with jealousy.
Seb still hasn’t met Abi even though her eldest daughter is at his school. Abi had cancelled a meeting they’d arranged last-minute, and it occurs to him now that he should make an effort to rearrange. That meeting with Abi might bring him a little closer to unlocking whatever is going on with Rosie.
From the sofa, Rosie looks up. ‘Sorry, I just had to reply to something …’
‘So it is Abi you’re texting?’ Anna asks, eyes still wide with disbelief to hide any genuine hurt she might be feeling.
‘Sorry,’ Rosie repeats, dropping her phone back in her bag. She glances briefly to Seb for backup; he smiles at her but she immediately looks away, back towards Anna, as she says, ‘Sorry, Abi was just asking about after-school clubs for Margot …’
‘Oh, well then.’ Anna crosses her arms under her large chest. ‘You should have said it was something so incredibly urgent. I honestly don’t get what all the fuss is about. I mean, Abi seems nice but …’
Rosie pouts out her bottom lip, gets up from the sofa and puts her arm around her friend. ‘Oh, Anna, don’t be jealous – you’re still my number one,’ she says in a soppy voice, too theatrical to be true. The truth, which Seb knows, is that Rosie enjoys Anna, loves her in her way, but probably wouldn’t have chosen to be friends with her were it not for Seb and Eddy’s long-standing friendship.
‘Hmm,’ Anna replies, like she understands she will never see all of Rosie, but that’s OK because right now Rosie’s arm is round her. Seb watches Anna’s shoulders drop with relief.
Anna and Eddy are the same in that respect, needing constant reassurance. Their huge personalities, like fur coats, belying the sensitive, brittle little creatures inside.
Then Patrick turns to them, nose twitching, and asks, ‘Is that burning I can smell?’
‘Shit! The dauphinoise!’ Anna says, grabbing Rosie and pulling her towards the kitchen.
The rest of them shuffle around the table looking for their handwritten place cards. Seb is sitting next to Lotte, another parent from the school.
Lotte and her husband, Richard, are opening a new restaurant in town called PLATE (the capitals were Lotte’s idea) and Seb finds that Lotte is – as usual – in a chatty mood. She grasps Richard’s hand, which is balled in a tight fist on top of the table, as she tells Seb how Richard poached an excellent London chef – ‘Diego someone, have you heard of him?’ Richard smiles reflexively but pulls his hand away from his wife and turns his attention back to Eddy, who is asking him something about the wine. Seb makes sure he keeps nodding as Lotte chatters about tile options for the restaurant toilets, and he feels the rush as a great wave of loneliness rises up within him. Rosie appears holding a platter of steaming pulled pork, she must feel him looking – she smiles briefly, like he’s an acquaintance she’s just spotted in the street.
‘Hope everyone’s hungry!’ Rosie says, leaning over the table to put the meat in front of Anna’s place at the head, next to a bowl of bean stew for vegetarians Patrick and Vita.