Page 39 of Wife After Wife

“You know Harry’s sister. Christ, she’s a piece of work.”

Katie was finding Cassandra’s drunken bitchiness tiring. She felt herself being dragged down by the oppressive heat and her friend’s negativity.

“Oh, she’s just a bit of a flirt. I’m sure Charles thinks of her like a little sister.”

“Yeah, right. And she’s only looking at him like a big brother? Like hell she is.” She pushed her chair back suddenly, saying, “I’m going outside now, I may be some time.” Everyone at the next table heard too.

“Why? Are you too hot?” said Katie. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I need a pee, and it’s going to be a major mission in this armored underwear. Stay where you are, Katie. You’ve done your bit, you can blob for the rest of the party if you want.”

It was true. Harry didn’t need her now that everyone had arrived. She glanced over to where he was talking to the Lord Mayor of London and his wife.

Cassandra staggered off toward the exit, and Katie was glad to see her make it out of the marquee without tripping up or colliding with anything.

She watched the dance floor, feeling a stab of envy at the twentysomethings having fun. She imagined the pitying eyes seeing Katie Rose sitting alone, the pregnant wallflower sipping her sad glass of water.

Perhaps she should join Harry. She looked around again and saw him laughing heartily with a group of similarly braying men in suits.

No.

She decided to go outside for some air. Making her way to a side exit,she stepped into the gathering dusk and stopped to savor the sudden peace and the view of Hampton Court in front of her. The floodlights had been switched on, and the air was heavy with the scent of flowers from the palace gardens. A few couples were wandering along the paths, enjoying the romance of it all, and she felt very alone.

Even the baby had gone quiet. She hadn’t felt it kicking since this morning.

She took some deep breaths, but the air out here wasn’t much fresher than inside. It felt charged, crackling in anticipation of what the towering cumulonimbus overhead were threatening to unleash. A breeze scuttled briefly across her path as she set off walking again, trying to shake off a sudden restlessness.

Already her feet were protesting. She stepped onto the strip of lawn alongside the path and took off her shoes. It was bliss, the cool grass soothing her hot, swollen feet. She walked a little further before sinking down onto a bench.

Katie let the beauty of the Tudor palace wash over her. She looked up at the windows, thrown into black relief by the floodlights, and remembered a recent stroll in the grounds with Harry and Maria, Harry spooking them with stories about the palace ghosts. One was Jane Seymour, Henry VIII’s third wife, and then there was the terrified teenager Catherine Howard, his fifth, who famously ran screaming along the Haunted Gallery after news of her arrest for treason.

Katie was brought back to the present by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Harry’s old school friend Will McCarey.

“Escaping the seething horde?” he said. “Wise move. Too hot in there for me. There are people dancing, would you believe?”

“I have the perfect Get Out of Jail Free card,” said Katie, patting her bump.

“So you do. Congratulations! Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, please do. I was feeling like the biggest wallflower in the history of bedding plants.”

“I was admiring your dress earlier,” he said, sitting down. “Do you mind?” His hand hovered over the fabric.

“Be my guest.”

“What a lovely silk.” He then suggested how she could modify it into a cocktail dress later on. What a nice man.

“Quite a pad, isn’t it?” he said, looking around at the palace, its colors now fading in the twilight.

“I was just thinking about its history. The ghosts. I don’t really believe in them. Do you?”

Will smiled.

“The spirit-world around this world of sense

Floats like an atmosphere, and everywhere

Wafts through these earthly mists and vapors dense