She tilts her head to show she’s listening but keeps counting candles. ‘Do you think she’ll mind having thirty-seven candles? Half of her real age?’
‘No, she won’t mind at all.’
‘I mean, I could chop them all in half, I suppose – we never use the whole candle anyway – might look a bit odd …’
‘Ro, please, it doesn’t matter about the candles,’ he retorts sharply, taking her hand. She turns in surprise, taken aback by his tone.
‘Sorry. It’s just, I want to talk about tomorrow night before Mum gets here.’
‘OK,’ Rosie says, still frowning at him. ‘What’s up?’
‘Well, it’s … I’m … I just don’t think we should go.’
‘Why not? It’s been in the diary for ages! Eva’s coming over to do bedtime, Lotte and Richard are expecting us and so are Eddy and Anna. They’d all be pissed off if we cancelled so last-minute!’
Seb looks away, worried about what Rosie will read on his face: his fear etched in the crease of his brow, the sadness in his eyes, the betrayal stiff around his mouth. ‘I know. It’s just that this thing with Abi and her daughter still isn’t resolved, so …’
She takes a sharp little breath, her face strangely expressionless, her voice low, as if she’s speaking from a dark place within herself. ‘What is this really about, Seb? Ever since you met Abi in our kitchen, I feel like you haven’t been honest with me.’
Seb recoils, a part of him shocked because they come easily, these lies.
‘Ro, I told you! It’s just this ongoing thing …’
‘You promise me there’s nothing else I need to know?’
She looks desperate suddenly, a little teary. He’s making her feel mad but what choice does he have? He’s not lying to protect himself; he’s lying to protect her and their whole family.
‘Ro, please. Come on. You know I’m crap at lying.’
He tries to take her arms, tries to hold her, but she resists. ‘Fine. If you don’t want to go, I’ll just go on my own.’
Panic glistens through him. This hasn’t gone well. The only thing worse than going to the restaurant would be Rosie going without him, especially now that Eddy knows what happened. Well, a version of what happened. If he has any hope of containing this thing, stopping them from figuring out the whole truth, he must be there tomorrow.
The doorbell shrieks through the house and the kids start shouting, ‘Granny!’ They race to the front door and Rosie starts singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as she follows behind them. Seb watches this bundle of people in the hall, his heart a ball of pain in his chest, and marvels at how even as everything is dismantling itself all around him, nothing, absolutely nothing, has changed.
Dinner is the usual mix of cajoling food into Greer’s mouth, trying to ignore Heath as he dissects his plate to ensure he won’t accidentally eat anything green, and listening to Sylvie’s long and detailed description of the book she’s been reading. Eva looks happy, smiling as the kids moan, her love for them all so uncomplicated, so easy. No one seems to notice the force field of tension Seb can feel crackling around him.
The kids whoop when it’s time for cake and ice cream and argue over whose turn it is to light the candles, while Eva gamely pretends she has no idea what’s going on.
Sylvie wins the candle row while Greer cries on Seb’s lap and Heath chips a spoon like a pickaxe into some frozen vanilla ice cream. Rosie goes to the loo and when she comes back to the kitchen announces, ‘Guess who I found skulking outside the front door?’
‘Uncle Eddy!’ Greer exclaims, like he’s a present she’s just unwrapped. Seb’s stomach plummets as Eddy shuffles forward in his tennis gear, holding a box of chocolates and offering the room a little wave. ‘Hi, everyone.’
Seb stares at Eddy, watching as he wraps his arms around Eva. ‘I had to come and give the birthday girl a kiss!’ Eddy hands Eva the chocolates.
‘Edward!’ Her palm against his face, just like she does to Seb. ‘You look tired!’
‘I always look tired, Mrs K. I think I was just born this way,’ he replies, which makes Eva pat his cheek, laugh and tut all at the same time. Eddy briefly hugs each of the kids before he slaps Seb on the back, and Seb feels the eyes of his children, his mother, his wife on him and so he pats Eddy’s back in return.
‘You want some food, Edward?’ Eva asks, already half standing, holding the edge of the table for support, to make him a plate.
Eddy stops her and shakes his head while next to him Heath says, ‘No, Granny, he just wants cake and ice cream. Don’t you, Uncle Eddy?’
Heath always treats Eddy like he’s one of the kids. But Eddy’s still shaking his head, running his hand over his beard, keeping his eyes on Seb as he says, ‘Actually, guys, my own dinner is waiting for me at home, so I just came by really quickly to say happy birthday but also to ask your dad something.’
‘Is it because he’s head teacher?’ Greer asks Eddy, her expression serious.
Eddy smiles at her and lies, so easily, ‘Yes. Yes, it is.’
Greer nods, satisfied, before looking down at her bowl and crying out in outrage, ‘Heath! You gave me a tiny bit!’
The inevitable battle over ice-cream portions ensues and Eddy beckons Seb, who mouths, ‘Sorry,’ to his mum as they back into the hall, Eddy waving them all a quick goodbye.
Eddy opens the front door, steps outside, and Seb has an urge to slam the door behind him, to leave Eddy in the chilled air, alone. But he resists and stands opposite Eddy, who nods, breathes out. ‘Look, mate, I’ve been feeling pretty weird since our chat last week.’
Everyone Seb loves is just a wall away and stupid Eddy is too entranced by his own feelings; he hasn’t even considered how precarious this is for Seb. Eddy knows too much, he must be placated, so Seb closes the door behind them and gestures for Eddy to move down the path a few paces away from the house.
They stand and face each other just outside Seb and Rosie’s front gate, where Seb asks, ‘What’s going on, Eddy?’
Eddy swallows, glances over Seb’s shoulder back at the house and says, ‘You have to tell Rosie before tomorrow night.’
‘What?’ Seb feels his face twist.
‘I know it won’t be easy but it’s not right, Seb, Rosie not knowing. You must see that.’
‘Eddy, you don’t get to come and tell me what to do in my marriage.’
‘Anything else, anything else I’d agree with you, but she’s my friend too …’
‘I trusted you.’ Seb hears his own voice, too loud, too dangerous, too close to everything he loves. He forces himself to quieten, moves closer to Eddy as he says, ‘I trusted you with my biggest secret. I’m not proud of what I did, you know I’m not, but it’s up to me to figure out what to do, what’s best for my family. Not you.’
‘It’s Abi isn’t it? Abigail Matthews.’
Everything around Seb – the whistling birch trees, Eddy, the cool autumn air – seems to slow and blur. The shock of her name makes Seb forget what his face is doing and as Eddy slowly comes back into focus opposite him, he knows he’s given himself away, knows there’s no denying what Eddy now knows to be true. Eddy shakes his head. ‘Shit, Seb. What a bloody mess you’ve made.’
‘How did you …?’
Now Eddy can’t meet Seb’s eye and Seb knows, of course, knows immediately that it was Anna who figured it out, and for some reason this makes Seb laugh, hard and joyless.
‘Anna,’ Seb says, her name like a claw in his throat. ‘You told Anna. How fucking dare you, Eddy …’
Eddy freezes; there’s heat rising in his cheeks, too.
’You betrayed me. Betrayed my trust. All these years of promising me that I could tell you anything …’
‘Listen to yourself, Seb.’ Eddy’s shaking his head, eyes wide, appalled by the stranger in front of him. ‘That’s not the betrayal here, the betrayal is that you cheated on your wife – our friend, Anna’s best friend – and you’re not coming clean. Frankly, I don’t give a shit what you think about me; it’s Rosie I’m thinking about. She’s the reason I’m here. We won’t let you humiliate her …’