Page 5

Chapter 4

Anna

Liv’s and my definition of a ‘small get-together’ are worlds apart.

She made it sound like she was asking a few friends for a late New Year’s Eve supper. Then her text said there’d be a theme to it, ‘Summer In Winter’, that it was starting at 2 p.m., and there’d be a barbecue. But as Drew and I leave our house and spot cars parked back-to-back, and laminated signs attached to lamp posts reading ‘This Way To The Party!’, it’s evident that Liv had something much grander in mind.

Drew takes a puff from his asthma inhaler as we make our way into Liv’s back garden. I’m immediately struck by the number of people already here. There must be at least a hundred, some I recognise from the village and others I don’t. I’m suddenly aware of how overdressed I am in my coat, tights and winter boots. There are gas heaters everywhere which are creating their own balmy microclimate. Some men wear shorts, and most of the women are in floaty maxi dresses and flip-flops. They look as if they’ve just stepped out of the fashion pages of Grazia while I look as if I’ve fallen out of the winter edition of budget catalogue Damart .

Lighting rigs shine down upon a DJ whose headphones barely reach her ears over her copper-coloured Afro. Some guests are dancing while others laugh at a joke under a tile-roofed pergola. At the end of the garden are a dozen or so kids shrieking and jumping into the heated swimming pool. A white mist rises from its surface.

The aroma of cooked meats directs my attention to the barbecue. A ginormous grill is being manned by two chefs dressed in full whites. Chicken, salmon, burgers, coleslaw, salads, breads, cheeses, prawns and ribs are all on the menu.

‘Wow,’ I say as I turn to Drew, but I only catch the back of him. I wish he hadn’t, but he’s spotted the free bar and he’s not going to waste any more time with me.

A burning firepit catches my attention. If I don’t move, I know it’ll be the only thing I focus on all afternoon. I turn sharply so it’s not even in my peripheral vision.

I spy Margot waving at me as she and her husband, Nicu, arrive through the gate with Frankie and Tommy. I’m quietly relieved when their kids hurry in the direction of a group of young people they recognise. I’ve tried and it’s not their fault, but I will never feel comfortable around them.

Margot is as well presented as ever and slips an unnecessary pair of sunglasses down her nose to take in the party with those piercing green eyes of hers.

‘Well, this isn’t what I expected at all,’ she begins. ‘It’s quite ...’

‘Lavish?’ I suggest.

‘I was going to say desperate .’

‘Why?’

‘Well, it’s a bit “look at me”, isn’t it? “Hey everybody, come to my party and be my friend.” Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.’

Nicu shakes his head wearily. ‘My wife has a unique way of putting a negative spin on just about anything.’

Liv appears from inside the house and makes her way towards us.

‘This party is a-maz-ing,’ Margot says before I have the chance to say hello.

‘I’m so glad you could make it!’ Liv replies and air-kisses all three of us.

I take in her figure-hugging lace dress and matching white Birkenstock sandals. She’s flawless from her styled hair down to her perfectly pedicured feet. I curl my callused toes in my knock-off UGGs.

‘I love that necklace,’ Liv says, reaching out her thumb and forefinger to gently bring my gold chain closer to her. ‘Is it one of your designs?’

I tell her yes and she examines the gemstones more closely. The design is of two flames shaped from orange carnelian and amber.

‘I meant it when I said I’d love to see what else you do,’ she adds. ‘I’ll text you to see when’s best.’ She looks down at our hands. ‘You don’t have drinks!’ She makes eye contact with a waitress and politely beckons her over to take our order. I ask for a lemonade, Nicu a San Miguel and Margot a vodka and cranberry juice.

‘Brandon,’ Liv says, her voice raised, as a tall man with thick, wavy blond hair approaches.

He’s dressed in a floral short-sleeved shirt unbuttoned midway down to reveal clippered chest hair, and shorts that cling to his muscular thighs. Does this woman have everything ?

‘This is my husband,’ she announces, beaming.

If I was her, that smile would never leave my face.

I’m about to shake his hand when he comes in for a hug. ‘You must be Anna,’ he says, and holds me so close to his chest that even through my coat, his pecs make my nipples hard. A perk of being a wallflower is that no one notices.

‘And I’m Margot,’ she says, introducing herself. ‘So lovely to meet you. This is my husband Nicu.’

The two men shake hands and, for a moment, I imagine them wrestling in just their shorts. Good Lord, what is wrong with me today?

‘And your husband,’ Brandon says to me, ‘is he here?’

‘You’ll probably find him at the bar,’ Margot chips in. She squints ahead of her. ‘Yep, there he is, settling himself in for the afternoon.’

I shift from foot to foot.

‘Daddy!’

Two small children run up to Brandon and tug at his arm. ‘Can we go swimming now?’

‘Good to meet you all,’ he says to us, ‘but duty calls.’

But before he is dragged away by two pairs of small hands, his attention lingers on Margot for a fraction of a second longer than the rest of us. She reciprocates.

‘He’s so hands-on,’ Liv coos.

‘I bet he is,’ Margot replies, with a subtle smirk. ‘This is quite some bash,’ she continues.

‘You think it’s completely over the top, don’t you?’ Liv says apprehensively.

‘No, not at all,’ lies Margot. ‘Who cares if you make friends or buy them?’

‘Margot!’ I chastise.

‘Oh Anna, I’m joking. Sometimes you’re much too woke for your own good. Who are all these people?’

‘Some are your neighbours,’ Liv explains, ‘others are friends from London. And a few are potential clients and investors in the wellness studio.’

‘Have you chosen a location for it?’ Nicu asks.

‘A redevelopment close to the railway station in town, as I’m targeting pre- and post-work commuters. The refurbishment started a few weeks ago and we hope to finish by early June. I also want to attract new mums who want to exercise under the same roof as their babies, so we’re installing a crèche and a café. Are any of you yoga fans?’

‘Margot and I went to a couple of classes last year but I wasn’t very good,’ I admit. ‘I’m not very flexible.’

‘It was like watching Geppetto operating Pinocchio,’ says Margot.

‘And you, Margot?’ Liv asks.

‘I’m a little rusty. I don’t have as much free time as I used to.’

‘Self-love is so important, you should definitely make some time for yourself.’ Liv shoots a glance at me with a twinkle in her eye, then says to Margot, ‘It might have been a while since you had your kids, but I bet we can still get your pre-baby body back in no time.’

I cover my smile with my hand. Margot’s kids are her stepchildren.