it wasn’t a question.
‘We’re having a bit of a do − nothing fancy, just something in the garden for the family,’ she went on. ‘And I want you there. And if he thinks he’s going to be part of this family, he’d better be there too.’
I put my mum on speakerphone and opened my calendar. Her birthday was in three weeks. Three very short, very unavoidable weeks. It wasn’t that I had forgotten, it’s just that until Facebook reminds me someone has been born, it just doesn’t register.
‘It’s a bit soon, Mum,’ I said slowly. ‘And the flights will be expensive …’
‘Your dad and I will pay.’
There was blood in the water, and Annette Clark never gave up until she got her kill.
‘For both of you. As an engagement present.’
‘Right.’ I felt very, very sick. Home. London. England. Mark. Everything I’d left behind.
‘And you’ll stay here.’ She was really enjoying herself now. ‘With your dad and me. Oh, Angela, you’ve made my birthday. David, get on Expedia, she’s coming home!’
And at that moment, I knew two things only. The first was that I was going to kill Louisa. The second was that I was going to have to go to London.
‘I didn’t tell her,’ Louisa whined into the phone as I hopped into a cab the next morning. The subway was down and I was already late for the office, having spent most of the previous evening drinking homemade margaritas while Alex stroked my hair and tried to talk me off the ledge. ‘It was Tim. It was a mistake.’
‘How did Tim manage to tell my mother I’m engaged?’ I fumbled in my satchel for a pair of sunglasses. The sun was too bright and my hangover was too sharp. ‘Is this because I broke his hand?’
Which I did. Almost accidentally. On their wedding day. I wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven me in the two years since I’d fled.
‘No.’ Louisa sounded tired. I had heard that was one of the side effects of having a baby, and according to my mother I’d know all about that. ‘He was in the supermarket and Mark’s mum was in there and going on about how Mark was going to New York for some conference—’
‘Mark?’ I suddenly felt very sweaty. And sick. And violent. ‘Mark Mark?’
‘Yes, Angela, Mark. You do recall? You were engaged to him for a million years?’
‘So Mark then?’ I said. ‘I just wanted to clarify that we were talking about the same scumbag.’
‘Yes, Mark.’ The word had lost all meaning. ‘So he was supposed to be going to New York for this conference because he’s just so important, and obviously Tim mentioned you were in New York, and obviously she couldn’t help having a dig, and so he casually dropped in that you were engaged. He didn’t mean to, honestly, and he had no idea she’d tell your mum. I mean, he didn’t know your mum was in there as well, did he?’
‘My mum is always in the supermarket,’ I replied, watching Williamsburg rush by, giving way to the Polish shop signs of Greenpoint and assorted acid-washed denim ensembles. ‘She lives and dies for Waitrose. I’m amazed they haven’t given her a job yet.’
‘Well, I just wanted you to know it wasn’t on purpose. Really, he was trying to do you a favour,’ Louisa bellowed over the Top Gear theme tune. ‘He’s totally Team Angela.’
‘But getting back to the important things, Mark is coming to New York?’ I didn’t need to see my reflection to know I had no colour left in my face. ‘When? Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Louisa sighed. ‘He didn’t get the details. He is only a man, babe. And you know they don’t talk at all any more. It’s not like you’re going to bump into him, though, is it?’
‘No.’ I breathed out hard. My ex in my city. How dare he? Wasn’t there a law against cheating ex-boyfriends coming within five thousand miles of you? ‘It’s just sod’s law, isn’t it? I’ll be walking into work with my skirt tucked into my knickers and he’ll just appear.’
‘No he won’t, don’t be silly.’ Louisa had a fantastic telling-off voice already. She was going to be a great mother. ‘And even if he did, you’d just walk straight past him with your head held high.’
‘Or scream like a banshee and kick him in the bollocks?’ I suggested.
‘Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,’ she replied. ‘God knows, I’ve thought about it.’
‘It’s a good job he cheated on me before I discovered my violent side,’ I said, not even slightly meaning it. ‘Louisa, why on earth are you watching Top Gear on a Tuesday afternoon?’
Louisa’s voice strained as she hoisted up something heavy. I assumed it was the baby. ‘I’m sorry, it’s the only thing that stops her crying. I sometimes wonder what I’m raising.’
‘A tiny female Jeremy Clarkson?’ I shuddered. The idea of Louisa having a baby terrified me, let alone the idea of a baby that could only be placated by watching grown men with bad hair drive a Ford Mondeo into a caravan. ‘You should see someone about that.’
‘Top Gear and The Only Way Is Essex,’ she sighed. ‘Three months old and she’s already a fake-tanned boy racer with a vajazzle.’
‘I don’t understand at least half of what you just said,’ I remonstrated. The shop fronts slid into warehouses and the warehouses into the expressway before I finally saw the bridge and my beloved Manhattan in front of me. My blood pressure dropped just enough to make me sure I wasn’t going to die in the car. Good news − they charged fifty dollars if you puked; I had no idea how much a stroke would set me back. ‘And I don’t think I want to.’
Louisa laughed. Which made the baby cry. Which made Louisa sob.
‘Well, I know it’s selfish, but I can’t wait to see you,’ she said. ‘It’s time you met this little girl of mine. It’s been too long, Clark.’
‘I know, I want to see her face.’ I traced the Empire State Building against the window as we hurtled over the bridge. ‘I just feel so weird about coming back.’
‘That’s natural,’ she shouted. ‘It’s been a while, but, you know, you’ve got your visa now, you’ve got Alex − it’s not like they’re going to hold you at customs and never let you go.’
‘Yes, I have Alex now, but he hasn’t met my mum yet,’ I replied grimly. ‘And there’s every chance my dad is going to tie me up with a hosepipe and lock me in the shed.’
‘Yeah, he might do that,’ she admitted. ‘Or I might. I miss you so much.’
‘I miss you too,’ I said, feeling incredibly guilty for not meaning it nearly enough.
I did miss Louisa, I really did, but I missed the old Louisa. I missed our Friday-night wine dates and calling her during Downton Abbey to get a running commentary on the episodes that hadn’t aired in America yet. No one took apart a period drama like Louisa. But things had changed. She had an actual live
