Page 11 of The Girlfriend

Dinner was served in the dining hall, where the table was boarded by the largest number of passengers for some time.

Cherry was opposite Howard, Daniel his mother.

Everything shone with purpose: the cutlery, the glasses, even the dinnerware, a white set with watercolor flowers painted around the edge.

A large modern oil hung from the wall, nearly the entire length of the room, a statement that was as confidently expensive as the rest of the house .

“Ta-da!” said Daniel as he placed the tray of soufflés on the table.

Cherry immediately got a whiff of an unmistakable fishy scent.

Crab. She balked. She’d had a bad experience with one of her mum’s discounted purchases at the outer limit of its sell-by date and had spent most of the night throwing up in the bathroom.

The smell was making her feel nauseous, but she resolved to get through it.

A dish was placed in front of her, a fluffy pillow of soufflé just waiting for her to break through its peaked surface.

She waited as long as she could, until everyone had been served and had taken their first bite.

Then she picked up the small fork, thinking it might load less on it than the spoon, and tentatively tried it.

It was all she could do not to gag. Cherry wondered miserably how she was going to get through the course without being sick or offending her hostess.

She stopped for a sip of wine, then slowly forked up another mouthful, but Laura noticed she was struggling.

“Is everything okay?”

Cherry considered bluffing, but caved in. “I’m sorry. I don’t like crab.”

“Oh, my goodness, don’t eat it.”

“Sorry . . . ,” repeated Cherry, embarrassed. “It makes me feel . . . unwell.”

Daniel clapped his hand on his head. “It’s my fault. Sorry, Cherry. Mum asked me to check. I completely forgot.” He looked contrite. “I thought it would be okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Laura, standing and taking away her plate.

“Poor you,” said Howard.

Laura went to take the plate into the kitchen. “Moses can have it.”

“The cat,” explained Daniel.

“Well, I thought it was delicious,” said Howard, scraping the last from his dish as Laura reappeared.

“Very nice, Mum,” said Daniel.

“Glad you liked it.” She ate her own portion and looked regretful. “Sorry, Cherry.”

She was being kind, but Cherry was mortified. She heard her stomach rumble and pulled the muscles in quickly so it wouldn’t be noticed.

“And you’re hungry!” said Howard. “Can we get her anything else?”

“I’m fine, honestly.”

“Are you sure?” continued Laura. “I feel like I just tried to poison you or something! Some melon? Or I think we have a bit of pate in the fridge.”

“I was ill on mussels once,” said Howard, “never been able to face them since.”

Cherry wished they’d all shut up about it. Daniel put a comforting hand on her leg under the table.

“Thanks, Dad, don’t think we need any reminders of that one.”

A mewing sound came from the kitchen. Laura stood. “Moses,” she called, “are you still hungry?”

“Always have a pet,” said Howard. “Green garbage cans. Although, I am more of a dog man, myself.”

“Why didn’t we get one, then?” asked Daniel.

“Your mother wouldn’t have it. Reminded her of the cocker spaniel she had as a child.”

“He was run over,” said Laura. “It devastated me. I had nightmares for weeks.”

“Shame,” said Daniel. “I like dogs.”

The cat mewed loudly and came prancing in, then rubbed himself against Laura’s legs. “Don’t listen to him!” she said. “You’re our favorite.”

Cherry looked at the animal with immense dislike. It was irrational, she knew, but even the cat was conspiring against her. Everyone but Cherry liked the bloody soufflé. Why couldn’t she be a soufflé-liking person like these people?

“Fillet steak and sauteed potatoes for the main course?” said Laura tentatively to Cherry. “Is that okay . . . ?”

Cherry gave an overly compensatory smile. “Sounds great.”

“What’s for dessert, Mum?” asked Daniel.

“I wondered when you’d get to that.” Laura smiled. “Presumably, you know all about Daniel’s addiction to chocolate, Cherry? ”

Cherry smiled again, a big beam to match the conversation. She didn’t.

“I have to hide it when he’s home,” said Laura.

Oh, do you! Ha-ha-ha , thought Cherry.

“You’ll be pleased to know it’s . . . chocolate-and-pistachio marquise.”

Daniel threw an arm around his mum. “You star!”

Cherry didn’t know what a “marquise” was.

“Is that okay?” Laura asked her.

“Yes, lovely,” said Cherry.

“I must be crazy to move out,” said Daniel, and Cherry got a little flutter of anxiety. She looked up and, with relief, saw he was joking. It was obvious they got on well though, he and Laura. Extremely well.

It was an alien concept to her, being close to your mother, and their easy banter threw her off balance.

She imagined having that level of closeness with her own mum and instantly cringed with revulsion.

It hadn’t always been like that. They’d been close when she was young.

As a child, she’d adored Wendy, in fact; but then as she’d gotten older, she’d become embarrassed of her, this mother who worked in the supermarket and whose world was so small.

It was made worse by Wendy being so nice.

She was like a puppy, always running around after her, wanting to be part of her life.

It made Cherry guilty and she sometimes thought that if Wendy would just slap her across the face and tell her how bad her behavior was, it would make everything so much easier.

Thoughts of Wendy put Cherry in an even darker mood.

She tried to shrug them off, enjoy the steak and what turned out to be a posh chocolate mousse.

“So, when do I get my den back?” asked Howard, topping up everyone’s wine.

Daniel laughed. “Yesterday,” he explained, “Dad came down to use the pool. There was plenty of room for both of us,” he said to his father .

“Your stroke is all over the place. More water out of that pool than in.”

“You just didn’t want to get shown up.”

“I’ve been perfectly used to you not being here. Cherry, it’s a shame you couldn’t keep him entertained last night as well.”

“Cherry had other plans,” said Daniel.

“Yes,” said Cherry.

They all looked at her. She’d said very little during dinner, too nervous, too self-conscious to really contribute, and it felt odd to be the center of attention. She hadn’t intended the one-word answer to sound so mysterious, but now, she suddenly realized, it actually worked out quite well.

“Anything nice?” asked Laura.

She made herself look embarrassed to have to be saying it, as if she didn’t want to make a big deal. “It was my birthday. I spent the evening with my mother.”

Daniel sat back in his chair in surprise. “You never told me!” He took her face in both his hands and kissed her. “Happy birthday!”

She smiled modestly. “Thank you.”

“How lovely!” exclaimed Laura. “Many happy returns for yesterday.”

Cherry was pleased with everyone’s reaction.

Now she couldn’t be accused of letting Daniel know in advance so as to secure an expensive present, but she secretly knew that his inevitable guilt at missing her big day would probably procure something even better.

Howard had already been to the kitchen and was coming in clutching a bottle of champagne and four glasses, which he held upside down by the stems. Pleased, Cherry noticed that it was Veuve Clicquot rosé.

“This calls for a celebration,” said Howard. He gave everyone a glass of pretty pink fizz and lifted his own. “To Cherry!”

“To Cherry,” said Daniel and Laura, and for the first time that evening, she felt a part of everything.

“So, what did you get up to with your mum?” asked Laura.

The bubble evaporated. Cherry felt on the spot. She could hardly talk about a strained hour in the pokey flat, avoiding the tilting sofa, and thinking of excuses to leave. Everyone was looking at her expectantly, smiling. “Not much.”

She watched Laura’s face become puzzled before she covered again. “Well, sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet one.”

Cherry churned inside with misery. At that moment, she felt a gulf apart from everyone else in the room, including Daniel. She had a sudden overwhelming need to get away, to catch her breath and work out what had gone so wrong with this evening she’d been looking forward to so much.

She stood. “I’m just going to go . . .”

Laura indicated the way out into the hall. “First door on the left.”

Cherry locked the door behind her and sank down onto the floor. Why couldn’t she fit in? Her mother’s words of the night before rang in her ears: “The rich have a different life. Not something we really know about.”

Was she right? So far, the evening had been a horrible collection of tense, awkward moments.

Nothing like she’d envisaged. She’d imagined herself falling into a warm friendship with Laura, finding some common ground early on, maybe sharing a joke or two, perhaps even going into the kitchen to help Laura with the supper.

Cherry had even dreamed of Laura as a motherly substitute, taking her under her stylish wing and being the kind of mother she wished she had.

She burned with embarrassment at her girlish fantasy.

Somehow she had spent the evening feeling inferior, unworthy of these people.

Humiliation turned to resentment and she angrily flushed the toilet and ran the taps, just in case anyone was listening.

She just wanted to go home, and the disappointment and sense of failure were crushing.

How was she ever going to escape her life if she couldn’t even hold a conversation with someone over a certain salary bracket?

She took a breath and then opened the bathroom door.

The hallway was empty. Making her way back into the dining room, she saw everyone had left the table.

Howard had disappeared, and Laura and Daniel had their backs to her and were peering over a laptop.

Laura had an affectionate arm over Daniel’s shoulders and Cherry stared.

The draped arm felt like a barrier to her, stopping her from coming in.

“She’s found you somewhere wonderful,” said Laura.

They were looking at photos of the flat.

What was she, the staff, the hired agent, only useful to find property for her son?

Even as she thought this, Cherry knew it was unreasonable, but she didn’t care.

She walked over and joined them. Then she deliberately put her arm on Daniel’s lower back and started to caress it.

He turned to her and smiled. On Laura’s face, she caught a look of surprise and felt her quickly take her own arm away.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” said Cherry. Keeping her eyes on the screen, she smiled inwardly, a sense of satisfaction creeping over her as she kept her hand possessively in place.