party to be over. She was tired of the charade. She wanted to know what Stirling was keeping from her. Just because she was ninety, it didn’t mean she’d become senile overnight. If anyone had lost their power of reasoning it was Stirling for imagining she didn’t know something was terribly wrong. Neil wasn’t here, and now suddenly Pen had gone missing. And if Rosco and Scarlet fussed over her any more, she would give them a piece of her fully functioning mind. Their patronizing manner always annoyed her, and tonight it made her long for Lloyd’s quiet, unpretentious company. There was a refreshing honesty to Lloyd’s character that she had always enjoyed and respected. She wished he was here now.
Meanwhile, and because she knew her elder son so well – that he would go to extraordinary lengths when it came to her well-being – she would play along with his pretence that despite the obvious, there was nothing wrong and they were all having a jolly good time.
At the sound of a collective ‘ Ooh! ’ she looked up to see one of the young waitresses walking carefully towards her; it was the pretty one who had earlier wished her a happy birthday. She was carrying a large birthday cake ablaze with an embarrassing number of candles. In the dark, the light cast from the candles illuminated the girl’s face with a soft radiance, making her pale skin glow like alabaster and her eyes shine. With her chestnut hair and delicate features, she was an extremely eye-catching young woman. Funnily enough, Cecily’s hair had been that exact same colour when she’d been young – before age had taken its toll and turned it white. Her eyes too had been the same colour as those of the girl, but they also had faded with age.
When the waitress placed the cake in front of her on the table, Cecily was reminded how she had felt before, that there was something familiar about this girl. But it was a familiarity that went beyond simple recognition; this was a feeling of something being woken deep within her, something that made her want to reach out to the girl. Puzzled, and ignoring the crowd of guests that had now gathered round the table, she stared intently at the waitress, scrutinizing her violet-blue eyes, her cheekbones and the pale pink of her lips. Then all at once, she experienced a moment of crystalline understanding: it was as if she was looking in the mirror at her young self. She was so struck by the realization that she impulsively put a hand out to the girl and touched her lightly on the arm, as though checking to see if she was real. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
The girl’s face flushed. ‘Katie,’ she murmured.
‘Katie what?’
‘Um . . . just Katie.’
‘You must have a surname.’
An unmistakable look of alarm passed through the girl’s eyes. But then her chin jutted out. ‘It’s Lavender,’ she said. ‘Katie Lavender.’
Cecily froze. ‘How old are you?’
But her question was lost in the commotion of Stirling and Gina appearing at her side and everyone singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. And as if she had never been there, the girl had vanished.
When the singing came to an end and she had blown out the candles and made the first cut in the cake, and the other waitress had taken it away to be portioned for the guests, Cecily pushed herself out of her chair and got to her feet. ‘Stirling,’ she said urgently, ‘I have to speak to you.’
He looked worried. Which further confirmed her suspicions that he was hiding something important from her. ‘It’s not about Neil,’ she said impatiently, ‘and whatever it is that you’re trying to hide from me. This is a different matter altogether: you have to speak to that waitress.’
He glanced anxiously about him and she suddenly saw that he looked more than worried. He looked awful, as though he was strained to the point of collapse. ‘Which one and why?’ he asked absently. ‘Has she done something wrong?’
Cecily dismissed his
Meanwhile, and because she knew her elder son so well – that he would go to extraordinary lengths when it came to her well-being – she would play along with his pretence that despite the obvious, there was nothing wrong and they were all having a jolly good time.
At the sound of a collective ‘ Ooh! ’ she looked up to see one of the young waitresses walking carefully towards her; it was the pretty one who had earlier wished her a happy birthday. She was carrying a large birthday cake ablaze with an embarrassing number of candles. In the dark, the light cast from the candles illuminated the girl’s face with a soft radiance, making her pale skin glow like alabaster and her eyes shine. With her chestnut hair and delicate features, she was an extremely eye-catching young woman. Funnily enough, Cecily’s hair had been that exact same colour when she’d been young – before age had taken its toll and turned it white. Her eyes too had been the same colour as those of the girl, but they also had faded with age.
When the waitress placed the cake in front of her on the table, Cecily was reminded how she had felt before, that there was something familiar about this girl. But it was a familiarity that went beyond simple recognition; this was a feeling of something being woken deep within her, something that made her want to reach out to the girl. Puzzled, and ignoring the crowd of guests that had now gathered round the table, she stared intently at the waitress, scrutinizing her violet-blue eyes, her cheekbones and the pale pink of her lips. Then all at once, she experienced a moment of crystalline understanding: it was as if she was looking in the mirror at her young self. She was so struck by the realization that she impulsively put a hand out to the girl and touched her lightly on the arm, as though checking to see if she was real. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
The girl’s face flushed. ‘Katie,’ she murmured.
‘Katie what?’
‘Um . . . just Katie.’
‘You must have a surname.’
An unmistakable look of alarm passed through the girl’s eyes. But then her chin jutted out. ‘It’s Lavender,’ she said. ‘Katie Lavender.’
Cecily froze. ‘How old are you?’
But her question was lost in the commotion of Stirling and Gina appearing at her side and everyone singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. And as if she had never been there, the girl had vanished.
When the singing came to an end and she had blown out the candles and made the first cut in the cake, and the other waitress had taken it away to be portioned for the guests, Cecily pushed herself out of her chair and got to her feet. ‘Stirling,’ she said urgently, ‘I have to speak to you.’
He looked worried. Which further confirmed her suspicions that he was hiding something important from her. ‘It’s not about Neil,’ she said impatiently, ‘and whatever it is that you’re trying to hide from me. This is a different matter altogether: you have to speak to that waitress.’
He glanced anxiously about him and she suddenly saw that he looked more than worried. He looked awful, as though he was strained to the point of collapse. ‘Which one and why?’ he asked absently. ‘Has she done something wrong?’
Cecily dismissed his
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