“No,” I said, before Sarah could pick up on his comment. “This is entirely on me.”
“Evie, it’s okay,” Maria said, but she couldn’t hide her relief.
“For goodness’ sake, one of you tell me,” Sarah said.
I readied myself. “The thing is, Sarah—”
“This isn’t Shrewksbury,” Beth said triumphantly. “They’ve buggered up your hen do.”
* * *
The thing about Mathers Meltdowns™ was that they never happened exactly when you expected them. Once the countdown was triggered, it was anybody’s guess.
And from the look on Sarah’s pinched white face as she sipped her gin, it had definitely been triggered. Soon she would turn a violent shade of puce, after that there’d be clenched fists, streams of angry tears, and, finally, a full-blown, eardrum-splitting tantrum of unpredictable length and reason.
“You lost,” said Sarah slowly, “the manor booking?”
“I’ll get us more mixers.” Jeremy stood.
“You will stay right there,” Sarah said.
Beth’s eyes widened. “I have exactly what this hen do needs.” She started fishing around in her handbag.
“So help me, Beth, if that’s what I think it is . . .”
Beth’s expression turned sulky. I thought I saw her put something in her pocket as she stood, tottering a little on her heels. The only mixer in her gin had been the cocktail umbrella. “I’m just going to go and ask about their vegetarian options for dinner.”
“We’re eating here? You’ve replaced Jorden’s, a Michelin-starred restaurant, with a pub that only serves pies?” Sarah pointed to a sign that said: ASK US ABOUT OUR AWARD-WINNING PIES!
“They are award-winning,” Jeremy said. In the silence that followed, he opened the tequila and began to fill each of our glasses.
“Is my hen do a joke to you?” Sarah asked quietly.
Maria and I immediately started to protest. Sarah held up her hand. This is it, I thought. The three of us braced ourselves.
But Sarah remained unnervingly calm. “I couldn’t have been any clearer about what I wanted. Did you think it was funny to take everything I’d asked for and cobble together a sham version? You three are always running off together. I guess I just never expected you to leave me out of my own hen do!”
“Sarah, it’s not like that at all,” Maria said, horrified.
“It was all my fault,” I insisted. “Maria and Jeremy did everything you asked for. I lost the booking, and I booked a cottage here because it looked like the one in The Holiday. I’m so unbelievably sorry.”
Sarah placed her drink down.
“It’s unbelievable, all right.”
My friends and I exchanged looks over her head. There was a tremor in the air, like the calm before a storm. Mathers Meltdown™ imminent.
“I didn’t mean it to turn out like this,” I said desperately. “It’s because NOB—”
“Evie,” she said, with the force of a slap. Here it comes. Sarah took a huge breath and . . . released it slowly. “Don’t you dare pin this on that man. This is all you. You could have done this any other weekend—why did you have to use my hen do?”
Maria reached over and took her hand. “Well done,” she said softly.
“It’s the therapy,” Sarah said.
I think I would have preferred a tantrum. “I couldn’t have afforded it otherwise!” My friends all jumped, and I lowered my voice, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I really wanted you to have your perfect hen, but you asked for such a lot, Sarah. I couldn’t do both.”
“Maria and David are still managing to go away in May. Jeremy is in New York over the summer. I can’t have made all of you destitute.”
Jeremy gave me a “You’re on your own” look.
I folded my arms. It had taken me months to save for Sarah’s weekend. My wage wasn’t terrible at the agency, but it hadn’t improved much over the years either. “You guys don’t always understand what it’s like to have to be careful with money,” I said tightly. “You all have everything so together. Whenever I look at your lives, they make me feel like I’m several steps behind.”
“Our lives?” Sarah said. Maria and Jeremy turned their astonished gazes on me too. “Have you even considered that I might have wanted a decent hen do for a reason? I knew what I was getting when I agreed to marry Jim. I love him, but he comes as a package deal. He has two dogs, a mortgage with his ex-wife, terrible taste in clothes, and two children. So forgive me,” said Sarah, “if, before I became a stepmum—and I will be all in for those boys, our honeymoon is at Center Parcs—I wanted a luxurious weekend and for everything to be all about me one last time. Was that too much to ask?”
I was lost for words. I’d assumed Sarah was just being her usual demanding self about the hen do. I knew that when she chose to be with Jim her life wouldn’t exactly be straightforward, but I’d always thought she could cope with anything. I hadn’t once asked her how she was doing with all the wedding preparations.
“Sarah’s not the only one,” Maria said tightly, and it was her turn to have our attention. “It might look like David and I have it together from the outside, but when I see your life, Evie, I really envy your freedom. When David talks about marriage and babies, it’s like our entire life is laid out before us and it’s on one track. You seem to have so many options in front of you.”
“But you’re always telling me I need to change things.”
“Because you can,” Maria said simply.
“I thought you and David were happy,” I said softly. I’d never thought, not once, that my friend might be anything less than content in her relationship.
Maria smiled. “We are, as much as anyone is. And some of it’s because we have each other, but mostly it takes a lot of work for it to look like we have everything together.”
Jeremy nodded into his glass.
“No offense, Evie, but if I’m going to be jealous of anyone, it’s Jeremy,” Sarah said.
He spluttered. “I’m sorry, what?”
Sarah waved her hand. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one of us who’s got it right. Amazing job, that apartment, no urge to settle down.”
“No urge to settle down? Try meeting someone when you spend every Saturday night in the office.” Now Jeremy had our attention. “Evie, when you complain that your life is all work and Netflix, I sometimes look at you and think, You have time for Netflix?”