‘A dress and a haircut aren’t going to fix this.’
‘What’s going to happen? Is he going to give up this man, now he’s been found out?’
‘No.’ I put down my mug. I’d already drunk enough tea this morning to keep Tetley in profit for a year. ‘Leo will stay for Christmas, then move in with Clark.’
‘But that’s only a few days away! What about the children? He’ll want to stay for them, surely?’
‘Apparently not. I’m not worth staying with, even for their sake. Like mother, like daughter.’
I ignored Mum’s pained expression and slumped down on a chair.
‘But I won’t keep them apart. Leo will still see them as often as he can.’
‘Mary …’ Mum looked as if she wanted to say more, but let her words trail off with a sigh. ‘How did they take the news?’
‘Jonas was cross, but he’ll come round. He’s a Black.’ Mum nodded. The Blacks were a different species to us. If a family of Martians had moved next door to us all those years ago, they couldn’t have seemed more alien or more exotic in comparison to our life. ‘But Ava …’ I shrugged, not from indifference, but because my worries were too heavy to distill into words. ‘I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive us.’
‘She will.’ Mum reached out and patted my knee, in one of those embarrassing moments of affection she occasionally attempted. ‘And you’ll be there for her, come what may, won’t you? It will all work out. You didn’t turn out too badly, did you?’
Now I really was worried.
It was inevitable that I would end up next door, in the house still occupied by Leo’s mother, Audrey. She was the perfect mum: warm, happy, supportive; always ready with a hug, always knowing when to speak and when to listen. Since the day the Blacks became our neighbours, I had probably spent more time at their house than my own, irresistibly drawn to the whole family.
I called her name as I opened the back door, and she dashed into the kitchen, and folded me in her arms – something my own mother had singularly failed to do.
‘Oh, Mary,’ she said, pulling back to look at my face. I knew it wouldn’t look as bad as hers: there were no tears on her face, but the pink and puffy eyes testified that there had been recently. ‘I don’t know what to say. Let’s have some gin.’
I would have resisted – I had to pick up Ava from the riding stables later – if Audrey hadn’t looked so much as if she needed one. We took our glasses through to the living room, a haven of calm neutrality, in contrast to the serviceable dark patterns that I had grown up with, chosen by my mother so that they wouldn’t show the dirt. Audrey put her glass down on the side table beside her chair, next to a framed photograph of her husband, Bill. Bill had died four years ago, devastating us all.
‘Are you furious, Mary? Will you ever forgive him?’
I sipped my gin while I thought what I could say.
‘I’m not furious.’ I stopped. How did I explain this to Leo’s mum? I couldn’t forget Leo’s description of his feelings for Clark. He had been right. We had never shared that. Our friendship was deep and precious, and sex had been exciting at first, when we had been hormonal teenagers, new to the act, but that had faded long ago. Our relationship had been contented, companionable, steady – safe. It was exactly what I had chosen. But if Leo had now discovered there was something more, how could I begrudge him his choice?
‘He said he didn’t go out looking for this, and I believe him,’ I continued. ‘He fell in love. I’m not sure it’s possible to prevent that, is it?’
‘No. Although sometimes it’s not always possible to have the love you want.’ I assumed she was referring to her loss of Bill, and reached out to take her hand, but she shook her head. ‘Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. There are other people to consider.’
‘What good would it do to force him to stay for Jonas and Ava? They won’t benefit from an unhappy father. That’s not what you want for Leo, is it?’
Audrey sighed.
‘This isn’t what I wanted for any of you. You know that, my darling, don’t you? You’ve always been as good as a daughter to us. If I had known it would end this way …’
‘How could you have known? This has taken us all by surprise, probably even Leo.’ I perched on the arm of Audrey’s chair. This had shaken her more than I had expected; there was no sign of her usual effervescent self. ‘You realise that this won’t change anything between us, don’t you? You can’t get rid of me. I’m going to be coming around here as much as I always have, drinking your tea and eating your biscuits. Although it may be more gin than tea for a while,’ I added, finishing my glass.
‘I’ll buy a few more bottles. In fact,’ Audrey said, finally flashing a smile, ‘I can ask Ethan to pick some up for us in duty free. Have you heard that he’s coming back?’
‘No.’ Leo hadn’t mentioned it; he rarely mentioned Ethan at all. ‘When will he be here?’
‘He’s flying back tonight. His Christmas plans fell through so he’s decided to come home. Isn’t it the most marvellous news? Ethan is exactly what we all need to perk us up.’
It was obvious that something was wrong with Ava as soon as I saw her emerge through the gate at the stables, jodhpurs stained in muck, boots filthy, grooming kit dangling forlornly from her hand. The teenager who had stalked through the gates with self-conscious confidence this morning had shrunk to a child with a bowed head, pink nose, and staring eyes that were defiantly holding back tears.
‘What’s the matter?’ I met her halfway across the car park, anticipating tales of injury and an emergency trip to the doctor.
‘Nothing. I’m fine.’
I wasn’t falling for that.
‘No, you’re not. What’s happened?’
‘Nothing. Just drop it, okay?’
‘It clearly isn’t okay. Have you hurt yourself? Have you fallen off?’
‘No. I’m not a baby. I can ride a horse without falling off.’
She was busy giving me the teenage glare when one of the girls from her year at school sauntered into the car park, and smirked in our direction. I hustled Ava away and into the car.
‘Has Jemima upset you?’
‘No.’ Ava took off her hat and puffed up her flattened hair. I waited, refusing to switch on the engine until I’d heard more. Ava broke first. ‘She said something about Dad. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Said what about Dad?’
For once, I must have stumbled on the magic tone of voice that compels teenagers to obey.
‘About how horrible we must be if he’s had to turn gay to get away from us …’
My heart was torn between sympathy and indignation. I grabbed the door handle.
‘Come on. We’re going to set her straight on a few things.’
‘No!’ Ava held onto my arm so I couldn’t leave the car. ‘Don’t make a scene. Everyone at school will hear about it. Please!’
I let go of the handle, and watched as Jemima rode past in the front seat of a top-of-the-range Mercedes. I was no more keen on a public scene than Ava, but it was galling to let her get away with such vile comments, especially when I suspected there was more Ava wasn’t telling me.
Ava sat in silence, twisting her whip in her hand, not looking at me.
‘You know it’s not true, don’t you?’ I asked. ‘Whatever she said. It’s prejudiced and small-minded and ignorant. Dad doesn’t think like that. He loves us.’