Page 27

Pete

As Pete inhales and lights his third cigarette, he feels nauseous, remembering why he thought he should give it up in the first place.

He stinks now; he can smell the cigarette smoke on his own clothes and hands, and he feels a wave of self-loathing.

He knows he should return to the party – between the confrontation with Vanessa, his hissed argument with Eve, and now the bomb that has been dropped on Natalie, he knows he’s been too absent, and that people will begin to notice he’s not around.

That could be a metaphor for his entire life at the moment, Pete thinks, but still he doesn’t move from the shelter of the treeline at the edge of the woods, not quite ready to return and put on a fake smile and exude false joviality.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, cigarette smoke hanging in the air as raindrops from the earlier storm drip from the summer leaves onto the mulchy floor below, long enough for his back to begin to ache and his hands to get cold.

‘Dad?’ Pete’s ears prick up at the faint call of his name.

It’s Emily’s voice, and the impatient tone tells him this isn’t the first time she’s called out to him.

‘Dad!’

Stifling a sigh, Pete swipes the cigarette over the fence post and collects his butts, before reaching over to unlatch the bolt and slipping back into the garden.

As he stuffs the cigarette butts deep into the compost bin ( hiding the evidence , he thinks) Emily is still calling him, but he can’t see her as he emerges from between the apple trees.

‘There you are!’ Stu appears beside him, clapping him on the back so hard he almost winds Pete.

Stu is clearly a little worse for wear, his eyes slightly bloodshot and sleepy in a way that weirdly reminds Pete of Bagpuss, that old cat that used to be on the telly.

‘Where the hell have you been, bro? I’ve hardly seen you all night.

’

‘Oh, you know what it’s like,’ Pete says, his stomach clenching.

‘It’s like a wedding – when it’s your own, you never get to see half the people you want to.

’

‘I still can’t believe Vanessa was here,’ Stu says.

‘Even more than that, I can’t believe Natalie was OK with you inviting her – Mari would have had my guts for garters.

’ Stu lets out a roar of laughter as Pete tries on a smile that wobbles across his face.

‘I thought I heard Emily calling me?’ Pete changes the subject, not wanting to talk about Vanessa.

Not now. Not ever.

‘Oh, yeah.’ Stu looks surprised, and Pete realises he’s had even more to drink than he’d first thought.

Stu has always been a bit crap at holding his drink, and Pete wouldn’t be surprised if Mari carts him off home soon.

‘Mari was talking to Emily, she said something about the cake.’

‘Is Natalie not about?’ Pete scans the guests, but there is no sign of his wife.

‘Not seen her. Emily was calling for her, too.’ Stu nudges him with a sly wink.

‘Nipped off for a quickie, did you? I wish Mari was still that adventurous.’

Pete feels suddenly nauseous again, and it’s got nothing to do with the dose of nicotine he’s just inflicted on his body.

‘I had better go and see what Em needs.’ Clapping Stu on the shoulder, he heads for the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees Emily at the kitchen worktop, rummaging in one of the drawers.

‘Did you call me?’

Emily whips her head around, her eyes narrowing.

‘Where have you been? I’ve been calling you for ages.

’ Before he can come up with a valid excuse which is not ‘fighting with your mum’ or ‘smoking so many cigarettes I want to puke’, Emily carries on.

‘Mari said people are starting to make noises about leaving, and we should probably cut the cake. I can’t find a lighter for the candles and I don’t know where Mum is.

’

Pete hadn’t realised how late it was.

The sun is below the treeline now and the garden has taken on a distinctly gloomy air, the first prickle of stars beginning to stud the sky.

‘This is the perfect time to do the cake,’ he says.

‘How is anyone going to see the candles in broad daylight?’ Overwhelmed by a surge of affection, he pulls Emily towards him, kissing the top of her head.

‘Sorry about earlier. For my crappy speech and for arguing with Jake.’

Emily scowls up at him, but she doesn’t pull away.

‘Go and find Mum, will you? We can’t do the cake without her.

And you stink of fags.

’

Pete gives Emily one last squeeze and reaches into his pocket to toss her the lighter.

‘Don’t tell Mum.’ He is about to step away into the hallway to go in search of Natalie when a shadow falls across the doorway.

‘Mum.’ Emily looks up.

‘We need to do the cake before people start to leave.’

Natalie nods and moves slowly to the kitchen drawer, pulling it open and rifling through the old takeaway menus and bunches of keys; no one knows what they unlock any more.

‘We need a lighter.’ Her voice is thick and oddly blurry.

‘We’ve got one,’ Pete says, a flutter of nerves rippling in his belly.

He’s almost afraid to look at Natalie in case she says something about Vanessa and what he’s done in front of Emily.

‘Oh.’ Natalie blinks, and Pete moves across the kitchen and lifts the heavy cake.

The three of them step across the garden, Emily’s voice ringing out above the music as she tells everyone it’s time to cut the cake.

Stu reaches out and lowers the volume on the speaker, and as Pete places the cake on the table, he can’t help but notice that Natalie seems a little unsteady on her feet.

Where did she go after she hurried away from him?

He knows it’s a party, but has she been drinking?

Pete saw her with a glass of wine earlier, but unless she’s been knocking it back secretly, he doesn’t think she’s had enough to get plastered.

There are exclamations as people drift over to the table and spy the cake.

It’s an extravagant three-tier affair with stars exploding out of the top, Emily’s name written in intricate swirly icing across the cake board.

Natalie would usually make the kids’ birthday cakes, but for obvious reasons this year it was never going to happen.

Emily had asked Pete for his bank card and ordered her own cake, and now Pete thinks perhaps he should double-check his bank statement to see how much it actually cost. However much it is, it’s worth it to see the smile on Emily’s face now, after what happened earlier.

Ignoring the ripple of unease spreading through his body at the memory of Jake’s last words to him – You’re going to regret this, Pete.

Trust me – Pete leans over and takes the lighter from Emily, cupping his hands around the candles until all eighteen of them are lit.

A pitchy rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ fills the air, and as Emily leans down and blows out the candles, Stu pulls out his phone and takes a short video.

‘Let’s have a photo of all of you together,’ Stu calls out.

‘Em’s last birthday at home.

’ Pete wants to shake his head at that, wanting to say that he always wants Emily to celebrate at home, that he doesn’t want anything to ever change, but instead he just reaches out to put an arm around Natalie’s shoulder.

She frowns, looking down at where his hand rests on her shoulder, and then steps away, placing Emily beside him, then Zadie, then herself, coming to stand on the edges.

‘Pete, if you just want to do a little TikTok dance for us, we know how you love a knees-up when you’ve had a drink,’ Stu says, waving the phone in his direction.

‘I reckon I can get you to go viral.’ Emily groans as the rest of the guests laugh, but Natalie stays poker-faced.

‘Say big birthday bollocks!’ Stu shouts as Mari nudges his arm and old Mrs Noyce sucks in a shocked breath.

Zadie laughs, and Stu presses the button on his phone, immortalising the moment forever.

As Emily claps and reaches for the kitchen knife to start cutting up the cake, Pete watches Natalie as she steps to one side, visibly distancing herself from them all, and his heart turns over.

Emily hands out slices of cake, rich buttercream oozing between the layers of vanilla sponge, and as Stu reaches the table, he holds out the phone.

‘Lovely pic, don’t you reckon?

I could probably be a professional photographer.

’

‘In your dreams, Uncle Stu,’ Emily laughs.

Pete leans in and takes in the photo.

Emily looks radiant, despite her earlier tears, and Pete is half glad he threw Jake out when he did.

Zadie grins up at the camera, a smudge of dirt on her cheek and that bright gap in her teeth all you can see as she smiles widely.

Pete is also smiling, and he thinks as he looks at the photo that you could almost think they were a happy family.

Almost think there is nothing wrong, until he looks at Natalie in the picture.

Her face is oddly blank, her dark eyes curiously vacant.

‘Send me that photo, Uncle Stu,’ Emily says, ‘I want to put it on my story.’ Stu AirDrops it to her phone, but as soon as Emily sees it, she wrinkles her nose.

‘What’s wrong with it?

’ Pete asks, expecting her to say that her hair looks shit, or the lighting isn’t right.

‘It’s Erin,’ Emily says.

‘She’s not in the photograph.

It’s not really a family photo without her, is it?

’

Pete hadn’t even thought about Erin as Stu snapped the picture, and he feels a greasy slick of shame wash over him.

‘Well, no, I suppose not.’

‘Is she still sleeping?’ Emily asks.

‘I know Mum won’t want to get her up because it is late, but she’s been asleep for a while, so she’s bound to be getting up for a bottle soon.

’ The unspoken words hang in the air – Erin never sleeps .

Pete realises Erin has been asleep for a while – the baby monitor hasn’t flickered to life for at least an hour or so, and she will be due a bottle shortly.

He glances in Natalie’s direction, as she accepts a glass of white wine from Mari with that same blank expression on her face.

No, she definitely isn’t herself, and Pete doesn’t think it’s just the shock of finding out what he’s done.

‘Zade?’ Pete calls out to his youngest daughter, who – despite allegedly feeling sick – is hovering at the edge of the table in the hopes of snagging a second slice of cake.

‘Do me and your mum a favour, would you? Will you go upstairs and check on Erin, see if she’s still asleep?

Emily wants to have a photo taken of all of us together.

’

‘I’m just having cake,’ Zadie grumbles.

‘I don’t want to. She’ll be asleep anyway.

’ There is that familiar ominous whine to her voice, and Emily rolls her eyes good-naturedly, handing her another plate of cake.

‘Don’t blame me if you puke,’ Emily says, turning to pass the cake knife to Pete.

‘Here you go, Dad, you finish slicing the cake and I’ll go and get Erin.

If she is awake Zadie can’t carry her downstairs anyway.

’

‘Thanks, love.’ Pete watches Emily hurry across the grass towards the house, an ache in his heart as he berates himself again for throwing everything away for nothing.

Natalie stands at the other end of the table, and Pete picks up a paper plate with a slice of cake and makes his way towards her.

As he reaches her, she looks up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter in his chest. Her face is expressionless, and Pete has the horrifying sensation that what he’s done might have just pushed her over the edge – might be the thing that breaks his beautiful, funny, fearless wife.

Without thinking he reaches for her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and breathing in the scent ofher face lotion, along with the faint tang of old wine, and she stiffens before pulling away.

‘Mum? Mum!’ At the sound of her name, Natalie turns her head, shaking it slightly as if she can’t quite focus.

‘Dad!’

Emily’s voice is laced with panic and something snakes down Pete’s spine – a primal fear that raises gooseflesh on his arms. ‘Dad, it’s Erin.

She’s not in her cot.

She’s not there. She’s notanywhere. ’