Suze has appeared at the front of the church, holding Wilfrid. I suppose there is a superficial likeness between her and Lulu. They’re both tall and blond. They’ve both got their hair in the same chignon. Suze is talking to Lulu, her face shining with animation, and as I watch, they both burst into peals of laughter.
“And of course they have so much in common!” Agnes’s voice cuts through the air behind me. “What with the horses and the children… they’re wonderful support for each other.”
“Every girl needs a best friend,” says the other woman wisely.
She breaks off as the organ starts playing. The congregation stands up and I reach for my service sheet along with everyone else. But I can’t read a word. I’m too jumbled up inside.
After the service is over, we all head back to the house, where a string quartet is playing in the hall and waiters are circulating with drinks. Luke is immediately accosted by some friend of Tarquin’s who knows him through business, and I stand for a while on my own, brooding on what I heard in the church.
“Bex!” I wheel round in relief as I hear Suze’s voice behind me.
“Suze!” I beam at her. “That was great!”
Just seeing Suze’s friendly face sweeps all my worries away. Of course we’re still best friends!
I have to remember that I’ve been away for a long time, so Suze had to make friends with people locally or whatever. But the point is, I’m back now!
“Suze, let’s go shopping tomorrow!” I say impulsively. “We can go up to London… I’ll help you with the babies…”
“Bex, I can’t.” Her brow wrinkles. “I promised Lulu I’d go riding tomorrow morning.”
For a moment I don’t know what to say. Couldn’t she cancel riding? She always rides, and I’ve only just come home.
“Oh, right.” I try to smile. “Well… no problem. We’ll do it another time!”
The baby in Suze’s arms has started to wail lustily and she pulls a face.
“I’ve got to go and feed them now. But then I must introduce you to Lulu. You two will love each other!”
“I’m sure we will!” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “See you later!”
I watch as Suze disappears into the library.
“Champagne, madam?” says a waiter behind me.
“Oh, right. Thanks.”
I take a glass of champagne off the tray. Then, with a sudden thought, I take another. I head for the library door and am about to reach for the handle, when Lulu comes out, closing the door behind her.
“Oh, hello!” she says in a posh, clipped voice. “Suze is feeding in there, actually.”
“I know.” I smile. “I’m her friend Becky. I’ve brought her some champagne.”
Lulu smiles back — but her hand doesn’t move off the door handle.
“I think she’d probably like some privacy,” she says pleasantly.
For a moment I’m too astounded to reply.
Privacy? From me?
I was with Suze when she gave birth to Ernie! I feel like retorting. I’ve seen more of her than you ever will!
But no. I’m not going to get into scoring points with this person. Come on. Make an effort.
“So you must be Lulu,” I say as warmly as I can, and hold out my hand. “I’m Becky.”
“You’re Becky. Yes, I’ve heard about you.”
Why does she look amused? What has Suze said?
“And you’re Clementine’s godmother!” I say heartily. “That’s… lovely!”
I’m trying as hard as I can to make a connection. But there’s just something about her that makes me shrink away. Her lips are a bit too thin. Her eyes are a bit too cold.
“Cosmo!” she suddenly barks. I follow her gaze and see a toddler blundering into the string quartet. “Come away, darling!”
“Cosmo! Great name,” I say, trying to be friendly. “Like, after the magazine?”
“The magazine?” She stares at me as though I’m a total imbecile. “Actually, it comes from the ancient Greek word kosmos. Meaning ‘perfect order.’ ”
I feel prickles of embarrassment and resentment. How was I supposed to know that?
Anyway, she’s the stupid one, because how many people have heard of Cosmo magazine? About a million. And how many have heard of some old Greek word? About three. Exactly.
“Do you have children?” she says with polite interest.
“Er… no.”
“Do you keep horses?”
“Er… no.”
There’s silence. Lulu seems to have run out of questions. I guess it’s my turn.
“So… how many children do you have?”
“Four,” she replies. “Cosmo, Ludo, Ivo, and Clarissa. Two, three, five, and eight.”
“Wow. That must keep you busy.”
“Oh, it’s a different world when you have children,” she says smugly. “Everything changes. You can’t imagine.”
“I probably can,” I say with a laugh. “I helped out Suze when Ernie was newborn. So I know what it’s like—”
“No.” She gives me a patronizing smile. “Until you’ve actually been a mother you have no idea. None at all.”
“Right,” I say, feeling squashed.
How can Suze be friendly with this woman? How?
Suddenly there’s a rattling at the library door and Suze appears. She’s holding a baby in one arm and her mobile in the other and is a picture of consternation.
“Hi, Suze!” I say quickly. “I was just bringing you a glass of champagne!” I hold it out to her, but Suze doesn’t seem to notice.
“Lulu, Wilfie’s got a rash!” she says anxiously. “Have yours ever had this?”
“Let’s have a look,” says Lulu, expertly taking the baby out of Suze’s grasp. She examines him for a moment. “I think it’s heat rash.”
“Really?”
“It looks like nettle rash to me,” I say, trying to join in. “Has he been near any nettles recently?”
No one seems interested in what I think.
“You want Sudocrem,” says Lulu. “I’ll get some for you, if you like. I’m popping to the chemist’s later on.”
“Thanks, Lulu. You’re an angel!” Suze takes Wilfie back gratefully, just as her mobile rings.
“Hi!” she says into it. “At last! Where are you?” As she listens, her whole face crumples in dismay. “You’re joking!”
“What’s wrong?” Lulu and I say simultaneously.
“It’s Mr. Happy!” wails Suze, turning to Lulu. “He’s got a flat tire! He’s by Tiddlington Marsh.”
“Who’s Mr. Happy?” I say in bewilderment.
“The entertainer!” says Suze desperately. “There’s a whole roomful of children in there, just waiting for him!” She gestures to a pair of double doors, beyond which I can see lots of children in party dresses and smart little shirts, racing about and throwing cushions at each other.
“I’ll zip along and pick him up,” Lulu says, putting down her glass. “At least we know where he is. I’ll only be ten minutes. Tell him to stay put and look out for the Range Rover.”
“Lulu, you’re a total star,” says Suze, subsiding in relief. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Jealousy burns through me. I want to be the one who helps Suze.
“I don’t mind picking him up!” I say. “I’ll go!”
“You don’t know where it is,” Lulu says kindly. “Better if I go.”
“What about the children?” Suze glances nervously toward the room, where the sound of screaming kids is getting louder.
“They’ll just have to wait. If there isn’t an entertainer, there isn’t an entertainer.”
“But—”
“I’ll entertain them!” I say, before I can stop myself.
“You?” They both turn and gape at me.
“Yes, me,” I say confidently.
Ha. I’ll show them who’s the most supportive friend to Suze.
“Bex… are you sure about this?” Suze says, looking anxious.
“No problem!” I say.
“But—”
“Suze…” I put a hand on her arm. “Please. I think I can amuse a few children for ten minutes.”
Oh my God.
This is utter mayhem.
I can’t hear myself think. I can’t hear anything except the screaming of twenty excited children running round a room, bashing each other.
“Er… excuse me…” I begin.
The shrieks increase in volume. I’m sure someone’s being murdered in here, only I can’t see who because it’s all a blur.
“Sit down!” I bellow over the noise. “Sit down, everyone!”
They’re not even stopping for a beat. I climb up onto a chair and put my hands round my mouth.
“Anyone who sits down…” I roar. “Will get a sweetie!”
Abruptly the screaming stops and there’s a crash as twenty children bump down onto the floor.
“Hello, everybody!” I say brightly. “I’m… I’m Wacky Becky!” I waggle my head. “Everybody say… ‘Hello, Wacky Becky!’ ”
There’s silence.
“Where’s my sweetie?” pipes up a little girl.
“Er…”
I scrabble in my bag, but there’s nothing except some herbal sleeping tablets I bought for getting over jet lag. Orange flavored.
Could I—
No. No.
“Later!” I say. “You have to sit still… and then you get a sweetie.”
“This conjurer is rubbish,” says a boy in a Ralph Lauren shirt.
“I’m not rubbish!” I say indignantly. “Watch! Er…”
I quickly put my hands over my face, then pull them away. “Boo!”
“We’re not babies,” the boy says scornfully. “We want tricks!”
“Why don’t I sing you a nice song,” I say in soothing tones. “Row, row, row the boat… la la la… the moat…”
“Do a trick!” squeals a little girl.
“We want a trick!” yells a boy.
“Do-a-trick! Do-a-trick!”
Oh God. They’re chanting. And the boys are banging the floor with their fists. Any minute, they’re going to get up and start bashing each other again. A trick. A trick. My mind scurries about frantically. Do I know any tricks?
“OK!” I say in desperation. “I’ll do a trick! Watch this!”
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