Page 72 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)
SIXTY-TWO
London, England
The day of Emma’s birthday party dawned sunny and bright.
Emma was delighted since she had fretted that it would rain.
She danced before the mirror as she tried on outfit after outfit, eager to choose just the right one.
She’d picked out a frock last week, then changed her mind.
She’d settled on another dress two days ago, then had gone back to the original outfit last night, but when she woke in the morning, she had doubts once again and proclaimed the chosen dress to be all wrong.
“You might want to wear trousers,” Quinn pointed out. “It’ll be cold on the ice. You can change into a dress after the ice skating if you like.”
Emma considered this for a moment. “Okay. I’ll wear jeans and my sparkly pink top with a matching headband, then change into the blue frock after the skating.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Quinn found the top in question and laid it out on the bed before rummaging in Emma’s plastic accessory box for the right headband.
“Is Grandma Phoebe meeting us there?”
Phoebe had arrived the day before and was installed in a hotel close to St. Pancras Station.
She’d stayed there with Graeme a few years before when they came down to London to visit Gabe and liked it enough to return.
Quinn wished they had a spare bedroom so Phoebe could have stayed with them.
She would have thoroughly enjoyed Emma’s fashion show and would have loved to do her hair.
With only the one son, Phoebe felt like she’d missed out and bought Emma a new outfit every time something caught her eye .
“We will collect Grandma Phoebe on the way to the skating rink.”
“What about Grandma Sylvia?”
Quinn hadn’t wanted to invite Sylvia, given the way they’d parted a few weeks ago, but it would be too difficult to explain to Emma why Sylvia couldn’t attend her party.
The skating rink venue was only for the children, so it had been decided that a second birthday cake would be served after the party at the flat for Phoebe, Sylvia, Logan and Colin, Jill and Brian, and Brenda and Pete.
Quinn wished her parents could have come, but to return to England only two months after they’d come for the wedding was too costly, so they’d send Emma a present instead.
It was a beautiful dollhouse. Not the kind made of plastic, complete with clunky fixtures and pink shutters, but one crafted of real wood, with exquisite Victorian furniture and real fabric curtains at the windows.
There was a family to go with the house—a dainty lady in a crinoline dress, a gentleman in a top hat, and two adorable children wearing baby gowns and bonnets.
Emma had been in raptures when the house arrived.
Quinn secretly thought Emma would tire of the Victorian set-up within a week, but her parents had never asked for her input, purchasing a gift more appropriate for the history-loving child Quinn used to be at Emma’s age rather than for a Disney-obsessed five-year-old.
“Grandma Sylvia will come to the skating rink with Jude and then come back here for cake,” Quinn said. She hadn’t wanted Sylvia to come to the rink, but Logan had mentioned that Jude and Bridget needed a ride and Sylvia had volunteered.
“Will Jude and Bridget come back to the flat too?” Emma always liked to be fully prepared for what was to come. Quinn supposed that given what had happened to her mother and grandmother, she liked to feel in control of the situation.
“I’ve invited them, but they haven’t confirmed. ”
“That’s just like Jude,” Emma observed as she allowed Quinn to brush her hair and affix the headband.
“Is it?”
“He’s noncommittal.”
“And where did you learn that word?” Quinn chuckled at Emma’s precociousness. Some days, she was five going on fifteen.
“I heard it from Miss Aubrey. She’s seeing a bloke who’s noncommittal.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“It means he doesn’t want to marry her,” Emma explained as she adjusted the headband and gave her hair a dramatic flip. “He’s playing the field.”
“Who’s playing the field?” Gabe asked as he stepped into the room. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. You look beautiful, darling. Are you ready?”
“Yes. Oh, I can’t wait. This party will be bloody brilliant!” Emma exclaimed.
“I’ll thank you not to say ‘bloody’,” Gabe admonished her. Both Quinn and Gabe were dismayed by some of the terms Emma had started using over the past few months.
“Fine. Sorry,” Emma mumbled.
“The party will be amazing, and you’ll be very pleased,” Gabe said, sounding more like his father than a man in his thirties.
“Yeah, chuffed to bits. Let’s go.” Emma stomped from the room, leaving Quinn and Gabe to follow.
“I hope my mum is right and we’re having a boy,” Gabe muttered as they left the flat. “I don’t think I can handle two of those, especially not during the teenage years. One teenage girl is more intimidating than a marauding horde. ”
“Coward!” Quinn nudged Gabe in the ribs.
“And not ashamed to admit it.”
Once they arrived at the skating rink, Quinn waddled over to the row of seats nestled against the wall and settled in.
Her belly had popped over the past few weeks, and her center of gravity had shifted, making her clumsy.
She was glad she’d worn flats and maternity trousers with a gauzy top instead of a dress.
She’d have been too uncomfortable in shoes, even flat ones.
Her feet were puffy and her ankles double their normal size, but they were cleverly concealed by the flared trousers.
Her outfit was somewhat trendy, so she didn’t feel too dull and drab, but she was beginning to miss her old body and wondered if she’d ever go back to normal post-baby.
Emma’s school friends were already beginning to arrive.
Emma greeted them effusively, accepted the colorful boxes and gift bags, and directed them to the counter where they could collect their rented skates.
Gabe stood quietly by like a bodyguard, allowing Emma to play hostess.
Most of the parents elected not to stay since there was plenty of adult supervision and the children would be escorted from one activity to the next.
Quinn looked around, then glanced at her watch.
Jude and his friends should have been there by now.
She hoped Jude wouldn’t let her down. Emma was looking forward to amazing her guests with “real” Frozen characters.
Quinn tensed as Sylvia slid into a seat next to her. “Jude’s in the gents’ getting his prince on. He didn’t fancy coming already dressed up. Wasn’t up for the ribbing from his friends.”
Quinn was about to reply when Jude, Bridget, and two of their friends took the ice, dressed as characters from the film.
Emma’s girlfriends nearly fainted with excitement, and even the boys looked pleased with two pretty princesses to admire.
Jude’s friend Olly, dressed as Olaf, was a big hit as well since he really got into character .
“It’s wonderful to be five, isn’t it?” Sylvia asked as she watched the children skate in a circle to the soundtrack from the film.
“Emma’s known more loss in her five years than some people know in a lifetime.”
“I know she has, and I’m glad she’s enjoying this.”
Jude skated past them and slowed down long enough to give them a dramatic bow.
“Cheeky,” Sylvia said, smiling at her son.
“I think he’s having fun too,” Quinn replied, watching Jude as he executed an elaborate twirl.
Jude did seem to be enjoying himself. He took Emma by the hands and led her into the middle of the rink, engaging her in something resembling a waltz. Emma was unsteady on her feet, but Jude helped her maintain her balance as he pulled her along and spun her around. She was delighted.
Quinn scanned the premises, wondering where Gabe and Phoebe had gotten to. They’d gone to check on the pizza and to bring the cake to the restaurant so that all would be in readiness once the children finished skating, but they should have been back by now.
“I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” Sylvia suddenly said. Her pleasure at seeing Jude in costume had evaporated, and she now looked sullen and wary.
“Pardon?”
“Rhys’s gone off me. I can only assume I have you to thank for his change of heart. You just had to tell him, didn’t you?” Bright spots of color appeared in her normally pale cheeks.
“Tell him what?”
“About the other baby. Quentin. ”
“He was there when I found out,” Quinn snapped.
“Then why did he stop coming round?” Sylvia demanded.
“Perhaps you should ask him. It’s nothing to do with me.”
“Isn’t it? He’s as devoted to you as a puppy,” Sylvia hissed.
“I hardly think that’s an accurate description of our relationship.
” Quinn was becoming angry herself. Sylvia had no business putting her in the middle.
Rhys was her boss, but he was also her friend, and a mentor of sorts.
She could not and would not intercede on Sylvia’s behalf, more so because she knew the real reason for Rhys’s decision.
“Rhys dotes on you. No wonder he’s angry on your behalf,” Sylvia persisted.
“I’m not having this conversation,” Quinn said and sprang to her feet. “Enjoy the party, Sylvia.”
Quinn swung Emma’s backpack over her shoulder and headed toward the restaurant in the hope of finding Gabe, more annoyed with herself than with Sylvia.
Her birth mother knew how to push her buttons, and Quinn fell for her antics every time, completely abandoning her well-intentioned resolve not to engage and to adjust her expectations to run somewhat parallel to reality.
“Fancy a cup of tea?” Gabe asked as he met her halfway and enveloped her in a bear hug. “It’s arctic in here.”
“No, I’m all right. Emma will want to change into her dress now that they’re getting off the ice.”
“I can help her,” Phoebe offered. “You just stay off your feet.”