Trust Jess to get engaged all discreetly and not say a word. If it were me I’d have run straight in saying ‘Guess what? Look at my pebble ring!’
‘Jess!’ Janice’s high-pitched voice greets us as she arrives at the front door. Her hair is freshly dyed a virulent auburn, and she’s wearing mauve eyeshadow which matches her shoes and her bracelet. ‘Love! Welcome back!’
Her gaze falls instantly on Jess’s ring. Instantly. Her chin jerks up, and she inhales sharply, then catches Mum’s eye.
I’m going to erupt with laughter if I don’t get away. I follow Mum into the kitchen, where the children are all sitting in front of The Little Mermaid. We make the tea and cut the children some ham sandwiches, all the time whispering about the ring and when Jess and Tom are going to tell everyone.
‘We must all act naturally,’ Mum says, putting two bottles of champagne in the freezer to cool down quickly. ‘Pretend we haven’t noticed. Let them tell us in their own time.’
Yeah right. As we enter the sitting room, Jess is on the sofa, apparently unaware of Janice, Martin, Dad and Suze sitting in a semi-circle opposite, all staring at her left hand as though it’s glowing radioactive. As I sit down I glance out of the window and see Tarquin with Ernie in the garden. Tarkie’s making weird lunging gestures with his arms, which Ernie is copying beside him. I nudge Suze and say in an undertone, ‘I didn’t know Tarkie did t’ai chi! He’s really good!’
Suze swivels round and peers out of the window. ‘That’s not t’ai chi! They’re practising fly-fishing.’
Both Tarkie and Ernie look totally absorbed – in fact, they make a really sweet sight, like a father bear teaching its baby cub to hunt on a TV nature documentary. (Except for the tiny fact that they’re trying to catch imaginary fish. With nonexistent rods.)
‘You know, Ernie’s already caught a trout in our river!’ says Suze proudly. ‘With only a teeny bit of help.’
You see. I knew he was talented. He’s obviously at the wrong school. He should be at fish-catching school.
‘So!’ says Mum brightly. ‘Tea, Jess?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Jess nods. We pour out tea and there’s a little pause. A little ‘Does anyone have any announcements to make?’ kind of pause. But Tom and Jess say nothing.
Janice puts her cup to her lips, then puts it down again, then breathes out shakily as though she can’t bear the tension. Then her face lights up.
‘Your present! Jess, I made you a little something …’ She practically gallops to the tree, picks up a parcel, and starts ripping off the wrapping paper herself. ‘Home-made honey hand cream,’ she says breathlessly. ‘I told you I’ve started making cosmetics, all natural ingredients … Put some on!’
Janice thrusts the hand cream at Jess. We all watch, mesmerized, as Jess takes the ring off, applies hand cream, then puts the ring back on, without saying a word.
Nice try, Janice, I feel like saying. Good effort.
‘It’s great.’ Jess sniffs her hand. ‘Thanks, Janice. Good for you, making your own.’
‘We’ve all got you eco things, love,’ says Mum fondly. ‘We know how you are, with your chlorine dyes and your natural fibres. It’s been quite an education for us, hasn’t it, Becky?’
‘Well, I’m glad.’ Jess takes a sip of tea. ‘It’s amazing how Western consumers are still so misguided.’
‘I know.’ I shake my head pityingly. ‘They have no idea.’
‘They’ll fall for anything with the word “green” in it.’ Jess shakes her head. ‘There’s apparently some vile, irresponsible company that sells yoga mats made of toxic computer parts. Trying to peddle them as “recycled”. Guatemalan kids are getting asthma, making them.’ She bangs the sofa with her hand. ‘How can anyone be stupid enough to think that’s a good idea?’
‘God, yes.’ I swallow hard, my face hot, not daring to look at Mum. ‘What total utter morons they must be. Actually, I’ll just tidy up the presents a bit …’
Trying to look casual, I head towards the Christmas tree and shove the Guatemalan yoga mat behind the curtains with my foot. That’s the last time I’ll believe that so-called bloody ‘green’ catalogue. They said they were helping people, not giving them asthma! And what am I going to give Jess now?
‘My present for you hasn’t arrived yet,’ I say to Jess as I resume my seat. ‘But it’s … er … potatoes. A great big sack. I know how much you like them. And you can use the sack afterwards as organic recycled luggage.’
‘Oh.’ Jess looks a bit taken aback. ‘Thanks, Becky.’ She takes a sip of tea. ‘So, how are preparations going for the christening?’
‘Brilliantly, thanks.’ I seize on the change of subject with relief. ‘The theme is Russian. We’re going to have blinis with caviar and vodka shots, and I’ve got the most gorgeous dress for Minnie to wear—’
‘Have you decided about middle names yet?’ Mum chimes in. ‘Because Reverend Parker was on the phone yesterday, asking. You really have to come to a decision, love.’
‘I will!’ I say defensively. ‘It’s just really hard!’
We couldn’t quite choose Minnie’s middle names when we went to register her birth. (OK, the truth is, we had a slight argument. Luke was totally unreasonable about Dior. And Temperley. And no way was I agreeing to Gertrude, even if it is from Shakespeare.) So we just put her down as Minnie Brandon and decided we’d finalize the other names at the christening. The trouble is, the more time goes by the harder it gets. And Luke just laughs whenever he reads my choices and says, ‘Why does she need any middle names, anyway?’ which is really unhelpful.