‘I’ve never seen that dress before,’ said Charlie as they waited for the door to open.
Julia shrugged. ‘Oh I’ve had it for ages,’ aware that they weren’t meant to be spending.
Charlie nodded, still studying her.
‘What?’ Julia asked, conscious that she was being watched.
‘Nothing,’ he said, then after a second’s contemplation added, ‘It’s just not very you.’
Julia rolled her eyes. ‘You’re meant to say I look very nice.’
‘You do look nice. Just not very you.’ Charlie shrugged.
Julia was about to reply when the door was thrown open and suddenly Hamish Warrington was there, arms thrown wide as he called, ‘Julia! Charlie! Come in! Come in!’ And Julia found that she couldn’t speak – all hot suddenly and flustered by the sight of him and the memory of her dreams – as he pulled her into a big warm hug.
Hamish was decked out completely in white linen – shorts and shirt – with white flip-flops. Charlie looked him up and down as he pumped Charlie’s hand in greeting, and said dryly, ‘That’s a brave outfit choice.’
Hamish barked a laugh, bright white teeth chewing on something or nothing as he gave Charlie a hearty pat on the shoulder, ‘Good to have you here, Charlie old boy.’
Julia was still all flustered, pulling awkwardly at her dress, trying to balance the Tupperware of cakes which had the effect of making her feel a bit frumpy and self-conscious in front of Hamish. At the same time, she steadfastly avoided Charlie’s sideways mocking glance as he tried to get her on side with regards to Hamish’s white linen ensemble.
They followed Hamish as he led them through the hallway with its hot pink walls and acid yellow staircase – 954 Instagram likes the day it was painted – and into the kitchen.
As they walked into the room, it was apparent that there had been no scrimping on the decorations. Puffballs of tissue paper hung from the ceiling like giant pompoms, vases of white lilies graced every table and surface, on the floor were big glass urns of coiled fairy lights. Impeccably dressed waiting staff and caterers were busy arranging platters of food and uncorking champagne.
In the centre of all the action was Lexi, in a spaghetti-strapped, figure-hugging, floor-length gown of shimmering white sequins that she’d had shipped over from the States. She was leaning up against the pale turquoise herringbone tiles of her kitchen island, selfieing with Alicia Fox from number twenty-four and Nicky Merryweather from number seventeen, their matching blonde hair intertwining as they all pressed their cheeks together.
Julia had to pause to take a courage-mustering breath. She was really regretting arriving with a giant Tupperware now. They were all so glamorous, so effortlessly cool. They made her feel like the awkward new girl at school, desperate to belong. Nicky Merryweather was nice enough, but Alicia Fox always made Julia uncomfortable. Like there was a joke she’d missed. Whenever she saw Lexi, Julia definitely preferred it when Alicia wasn’t there.
‘Julia, darling! You look gorgeous.’ Lexi sprang forward from the embrace with the other two blondes, her dress catching the light like a glitter ball. ‘Are those my cakes?’
Julia nodded, handing over the cakes, grateful to relinquish the Tupperware. ‘You look amazing,’ she said to Lexi.
‘Ohh,’ said Lexi, waving away the compliment with faux-modesty. ‘Well I never get to dress up nowadays. Two kids will zap away that kind of sparkle!’
Everyone smiled and nodded even though they all knew it was a lie – Lexi had a wardrobe bursting with designer dresses and festival fancy dress, and never failed to wow with her Halloween costumes – but she had the power to make everyone happily complicit.
She lifted the lid off the plastic box of little cakes. ‘These are divine, Julia. You’re a superstar,’ she said, immediately taking a photo of the dainty frosting, showing them to Nicky and Alicia, who both oohed politely, then passed them over to the caterer who was putting together canapés with an air of tautly controlled calm.
Julia watched as the harassed caterer shoved the cakes to one side.
‘Now, drinks!’ Lexi clapped her hands together. ‘There’s a gin bar outside where they are making negronis and the most divine gimlets. They serve them with little red peppercorns – out of this world. Or on the table in the other room there’s champagne and rosé. And for the boys, beer in a barrel by the hot tub.’
Charlie was straight outside.
Nicky said, ‘Oh I’d kill for some bubbles,’ and drifted over to the champagne table in the lounge. Julia hovered in the kitchen by Alicia. Lexi had zoned out for a second, editing the pictures she’d just taken for Instagram. ‘God I shouldn’t be doing this now,’ she said, still deep in her phone.
Leaning against the counter, Alicia was wearing white cut-off denim shorts, two thin gold necklaces, and a white silk vest top, looking perfectly, expensively, dishevelled. The simplicity of it made Julia feel instantly like she’d tried too hard in her flouncy dress and new trainers.
Alicia looked Julia up and down. ‘Nice dress,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ said Julia, self-consciously straightening out the skirt.
‘Is it new?’ Alicia asked.
Julia shook her head, ‘No I’ve had it for ages,’ she said, trying to match Alicia’s indifference, all blasé and like she hadn’t spent every lunchtime for two weeks shopping for something white-hot. There was a bag of clothes under her desk ready to be returned after the bank holiday.
‘Really?’ said Alicia, mouth tilting up, that same expression that Julia dreaded. ‘I’m sure I saw it in the window of Whistles the other day.’
Julia made a face like she was none the wiser, especially as this was the H&M rip-off of the Whistles version, but she doubted Alicia had ever set foot in an H&M, she was a Notting Hill boutique kind of shopper. ‘Maybe one like it,’ Julia said as casually as she could, cursing herself for lying.
‘Maybe,’ said Alicia with clear disbelief.
Julia could tell her cheeks had flushed.
Pushing languidly off the kitchen island Alicia said, ‘Come on, Lexi, it’s your party, you can’t be on your phone all night.’
‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ said Lexi, hurriedly finishing her post then clicking her phone off. ‘Right, that’s enough of that. No more time-wasting, a hot tub is calling,’ she laughed. ‘Oh Julia you got the trainers!’ she said, noticing Julia’s feet for the first time.
Julia blushed again. ‘Yeah, I wanted to go for the other style, you know, so they weren’t exactly the same as yours but,’ she scrabbled for an excuse not to mention the bargain TK Maxx price, ‘they didn’t have my size.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Lexi grinned, looping her arm through Julia’s and leading her out into the garden. ‘They look fab!’
Alicia sauntered along behind, Julia sensing her hawk-like judgement. They picked up Nicky on her way through who was flirting with a waiter as he topped up her champagne flute.
Outside was magical. Like the Snow Queen’s palace. Strings of white outdoor bulbs crisscrossed the piercing blue sky from the corner of the house to the giant conifers at the far end of the garden. Between the firs, a whitewashed shack had been built to house the gin bar. The waiters outside were all sun-bleached surfer cool. They looked barely old enough to drink and were dressed in sleeveless white T-shirts, boardshorts and white bow-ties, working their magic with Sipsmith gin. Across from that, the hot tub bubbled under a giant white sailcloth stretched between scaffold poles for shade. A suckling pig was being roasted over a firepit by a burly hipster in a leather apron ready for a late lunch. The patio was a dance floor, there was a DJ in wraparound sunglasses, there were white helium balloons, flaming Tiki torches, and giant white floor cushions and shisha pipes next to a spray-painted sign that read, ‘chill-out zone’.