We were meeting at Natalie’s house, which had an openplan living room and kitchen spilling out on to a small terrace and narrow strip of grass. Natalie and I had kissed cheeks and then spun into a frenzy of activity, preparing things before Amy arrived, laying out glasses and finger food.
I had blown up one of the large penis balloons and thought it would be funny to greet Amy at the door with it. The doorbell rang and without thinking I ran down the corridor to open it, thrusting it out towards her. ‘Haaaaappy hen dooooo,’ I squealed.
‘Muuuuummmmyyyyy,’ came a cry. And rather than Amy, a woman in a beige three-quarter-length coat and a sour expression stood wide-eyed, staring at my offering. A tiny person streaked past me, pounding down the corridor as I stood, erect penis balloon in hand.
Oh God.
Natalie, eyes boggled, standing in the kitchen doorway, scooped up the toddler, who immediately hid his face in her shoulder. I started stuttering at the unimpressed woman on the doorstep to whom I had proffered the penis balloon.
‘Thanks, Maureen,’ Natalie called. ‘Lottie, meet my mother-in-law, Maureen.’
‘Hi,’ I swallowed, offering the hand that wasn’t holding the penis balloon. Maureen didn’t take it.
Maureen left with a pursed lip and a muttered goodbye. I cringed against the door as I closed it behind me.
Natalie grimaced. ‘Sorry, Lottie, I should have warned you. My au pair is ill so Tom is with us today. Maureen could only take him for an hour but don’t worry, he’ll be napping soon,’ she said in a hurry.
I was frantically trying to hide the large inflatable penis behind my back as Tom kept staring at it bobbing around above me. ‘Oh, oh right, that’s great. Hi, Tom. How, how old is he now?’ I asked, pretty sure Natalie had been pregnant the last time I saw her.
‘Tom’s just turned two, haven’t you, darling? Two. Say hello to Lottie.’
Silence from the toddler person.
I returned to the large kitchen, the carpet now filled once more with crayons, plastic cars, bowls of uneaten goop and stray spoons. I swear the toddler had done catastrophic damage in less time than it took me to open the door.
‘Balloon,’ Tom piped up as I tried to secure the large cock to the back of a chair.
Natalie bit her lip. ‘Yes, darling, it’s a . . . it’s a . . . ’
‘Balloon.’ Tom confirmed as if his mother was a blind moron.
Fortunately at that moment the doorbell went and Tom turned to launch himself back into his mother’s arms.
‘Sorry, he gets a bit overwhelmed when people arrive,’ Natalie said, scooping him up again and heading to the door. ‘Breaks the routine.’
‘Right, well I’ll unpack the rest of the things here,’ I said, realising almost everything in the two large carrier bags I had brought along were either penis-shaped or covered in pictures of penises.
Clearing a space in the living area, I then positioned chairs in a large circle in preparation for everyone’s arrival. Hearing Amy in the corridor I looked up just as she appeared, stonyfaced, in the doorway.
Natalie was following behind her, Tom tugging on her top saying, ‘Play with balloon. Play with balloon now,’ as she kept talking to Amy’s back.
‘ . . . honestly he naps for ages, you won’t notice, oh and Ems and Polly can’t make it. And maybe Char because she was meant to be getting a lift from Polly.’
Amy’s face had turned thunderous as she looked across at me.
‘Hey.’ I gave her a sympathetic smile and halfhearted wave.
‘Sorry, why can’t they come?’ Amy said, turning to her sister.
Natalie ticked the reasons off her list. ‘Ems: suspected chicken pox, her child not her; Polly got her dates confused and is meant to be at her boyfriend’s family get-together in Swansea, and Char, well, Char can’t drive and is worried about public transport.’
‘Right,’ Amy said, rubbing her eyes.
‘Drink?’ I sing-songed, realising this hen do was heading downhill and fast.
‘What about public transport?’
‘Balloon now.’
‘No . . . I . . . not sure, is she frightened of buses or something? Maybe, darling, it’s not a balloon for playing really . . . ’
‘Mojito?’ I lurched over to the counter.
‘Oh,’ Natalie said, ‘that jug is the non-alcoholic one actually. We’ve got a couple of pregnant people coming, and Katy is still breast-feeding—’
The doorbell interrupted the rest of the sentence. Tom was now scaling the chair the penis was attached to and I was frantically pouring tequila into a shot glass.
‘Come on, Ames, let’s get this down you.’
Amy slouched over to me in the kitchen. ‘God, Lottie, is this going to be the worst?’
‘Of course not!’ I said, smile plastered on as two women with enormous bumps pushed into the room and Tom released the penis from its mooring so it floated up to the ceiling to rest on its side.
Minutes later more guests arrived and Amy looked a little cheered, helped along by three tequila shots. A couple of her colleagues from the school appeared: a brunette head of PE with the kind of toned upper arms I’d only ever seen on professional tennis players, and an earnest-looking head of Teaching and Learning pushing tortoiseshell glasses up her nose. Then university friends and school friends joined us and the room was suddenly full with people clutching glasses, introducing themselves, Tom weaving between their legs on a continuous hunt for his mother.
After an hour the clock hands seemed to be dragging. It was only four o’clock as we sat in a small circle, Tom’s episode of Peppa Pig filling the long gaps in conversation. I was sitting next to Amy’s sister-in-law who didn’t know anyone and was borderline obsessed with long-haired cats. After five minutes I’d had my fill.
The group was fading into intermittent coughs and silence. I was aware I should stop serving tequila for a little while as Amy’s right eye was already wandering.
‘This is a good episode actually,’ Natalie said, around the group. ‘It’s about Peppa’s fish being bored. They take her on the bus and . . . ’
Stony stares met her story and I found my bottom clenching as she continued. Amy looked bereft, shoulders slumped, both hands cupping her watered-down mojito, her hot pink satin Bride to Be sash lacklustre.
I clapped my hands together. ‘Sooooo, when is company arriving . . .’ I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Natalie started shaking her head at me, making cutting motions on her neck. ‘I’m sorry, I know we planned . . . I just couldn’t have a S-T-R-I-P-P-E-R here, not with’ – she gestured towards Tom – ‘I’m sorry, Amy I cancelled him this morning. I made carrot batons and homemade hummus everyone!’ She thrust the plate out in front of her.
No one reached to get one. Amy didn’t even raise a smile.
‘How about we do the Mr and Mrs Quiz?’ I suggested in a hearty voice, eyes flicking nervously round the circle. I had already forgotten everyone’s names.
Natalie looked worriedly across at Tom. ‘We could, I mean, I don’t like to turn off the television once he’s settled in front of it, and we need it to attach the laptop to, but we could . . . ’
‘We could just play it on the laptop,’ I suggested brightly, determined to move this party along and desperate to see Amy’s face light up.