also staying with us for a few days.’ I shouldn’t encourage Alice’s cover-up of her relationship, but I can’t stand to see her flounder. ‘On the sofa.’ I roll my eyes at Kevin. ‘What are you standing out there for, bruv? Get inside, you big dope.’
If Alice notices the majorly pissed-off look on her boyfriend’s face as he steps over the threshold, she doesn’t show it. She leads us all into the living room, where the three of us sit on the sofa – Alice on the left, Kevin on the right and me in the middle.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,’ Francelia says as she arranges herself in the armchair. She flashes Alice a reproachful look.
‘It’s Kevin. Kevin Jackson.’ He holds out his hand, but Francelia doesn’t acknowledge it, never mind shake it.
‘You have a different surname to your sister?’
‘Different dads,’ I say as Kevin settles back down into the sofa.
‘Hmm, it figures,’ the witch mutters before turning her attention back to Kevin. ‘So, Kevin Jackson. Why are you – a grown man – sleeping on your sister’s sofa? Don’t you have a home of your own? Don’t you work?’
‘I’m a music teacher,’ Kevin says and Francelia nods.
‘At the local school like Emily? That explains it then. No wonder you’re “sofa surfing”, as they say.’
‘I’m not sofa surfing. I have a place of my own.’
‘Oh?’ There goes the eyebrow again. ‘Then why aren’t you sleeping there instead of on this sofa?’ She points at the sofa we’re all sitting on, in case he needs clarification.
‘His flat’s being fumigated,’ Alice says. ‘For rats.’
Francelia recoils. I quite enjoy seeing her so uncomfortable, but Kevin is taking less pleasure from the experience.
‘How unfortunate.’ Francelia rubs at her calf with the pointy toe of the shoe that had designs on Carrot earlier. Her eyes roam the carpet for rodents, as though Kevin has turned into the Pied bleeding Piper and brought his little infestation pals along with him. ‘Anyway, the reason I popped over…’ She peers into her handbag, as though expecting to find a furry critter nestled there, before reaching gingerly inside. ‘Emily, this is for you.’
‘For me?’
I observe the proffered envelope with suspicion. What is this? Surely no good can come of accepting anything from this woman? I do not trust Francelia Monroe. Not one little bit.
‘What is it?’ I ask, but my question is swallowed by the gasp beside me, followed shortly by a squeal and handclapping.
‘Is it…? It is, isn’t it?’ Alice has stopped clapping and is now bouncing up and down on the sofa. Francelia gives a curt nod before thrusting the envelope at me again.
‘Go on,’ Alice says, grasping me – quite tightly, again – by the arm. ‘Open it.’
‘What is it?’ I’m not taking it, not until I know what it is.
‘Open it and see!’ Alice’s face is so alive, so joyful, that I know it can’t be anything bad, but I’m still hesitant.
‘Are you going to take this, or have I wasted an entire evening?’ Francelia lifts her wrist and gives a tut when she sees the time on her elegant watch.
I take the envelope. Alice’s grip tightens, and she emits another little squeal. The envelope is thick, made of ivory paper, and embossed with a pattern of interlocking hearts. On the front, in swirly gold writing, is my name.
Miss Emily Atkinson.
My address is there too, but there isn’t a stamp.
‘We didn’t have time to post it, what with it being a last-minute request.’ Francelia shoots a pointed look in Alice’s direction. Her grasp on my arm goes limp. ‘You’ll have to RSVP in person to me.’
RSVP? This isn’t…?
I pull the invitation out of the envelope. The card is the same ivory, embossed with the same pattern of interlocking hearts. The pattern has been picked out with glittery silver leaf on one half of the card, with a wide, dove-grey ribbon seamlessly covering the cutoff point. A pale-blue gem surrounded by clusters of diamantes sits in the middle of the ribbon, cinching it in to create a bow effect. I open the card carefully, already knowing what it will say inside as I read Alice’s invitation months ago.
Carolyn Allegra Monroe
and
Piers Michael Reeves
request the pleasure of your company in a week-long celebration of their marriage, commencing Monday the twenty-third of July.
Durban Castle
Clearwell Road
Little Heaton
Cheshire
‘What is this?’ Obviously, I know what it is, but I don’t understand why Francelia has schlepped all the way over from Harrogate to give this to me. I don’t really know Carolyn and I’ve never even met her fiancé. I know nothing about the dude, other than the fact he’s stinking rich and Francelia thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread (which probably has nothing to do with his bulging wallet. Nothing. At. All).
‘I asked Carolyn if you could come to the wedding with me,’ Alice says. ‘You’re my plus-one!’
‘You did what?’ Both Kevin and I ask the question, and Alice is torn about who she should answer first. Or how she’s going to answer Kevin in front of Francelia without giving the game away.
‘Emily’s my best friend.’ Alice shoots a pointed look at her stepmother as she speaks to Kevin. ‘And I didn’t want to go on my own.’
‘And there was absolutely nobody else you could have asked?’ Kevin is furious. His voice is measured but there’s a worrying vein pulsing at his temple.
‘There is somebody else who I could have asked, but it’s awkward.’ Alice flicks her gaze towards Francelia, who is watching the exchange like a hawk. Alice is a plump, juicy mouse and Francelia is hungry.
‘Fine. Whatever.’ Kevin shrugs and shoves his body back into the sofa.
‘What’s going on here?’ Francelia wags a finger in the general direction of the sofa.
‘Nothing,’ Alice says quickly. ‘It’s just I have this other good friend, but we’ve fallen out.’
Kevin nods. ‘Big time.’
Francelia glances at her watch again. ‘Whatever. I don’t have time to hear about your little squabbles.’ She turns her icy gaze on me. ‘Look, will you be attending or not?’
‘Yes,’ Alice says, her grip now intentionally tight on my arm. ‘Yes, she will.’
‘Right. Glad that’s sorted.’ Francelia is on her feet, handbag hooked over her arm before I even have time to blink, never mind protest. ‘I must be off. Long drive ahead and all that. I’ll see you both on Monday. Don’t forget we dress for dinner.’ She looks me up and down and puffs out a little sigh. Cheeky cow! Okay, so I didn’t make much of an effort for my date this evening, but still.
‘Oh, and Alice…’ Francelia pulls a face and clasps her hands together. ‘Please behave yourself. We don’t want a repeat of what happened the last time you were at the castle, do we?’
Alice, who is halfway out of her seat, slumps back down onto the sofa. She’s gone awfully pale and appears to be blinking away tears.
‘Am