Page 41 of The Wife
I raise my eyebrows, rarely having heard Celia swear before.
‘You need to put both of them out of your head and move forward with your life. Forget the past. No good comes of dwelling on it.’
‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘No suppose about it.’ She lays down her soup spoon for a moment and reaches into her handbag. ‘Before I forget, here are the latest flyers from Madeline about the redevelopment appeal. Can you put some in the salon, and stick one in the window?’
‘Sure.’ I take the bundle from her and slip them into my bag. ‘I’ll ask Becky to ask Jennifer – I don’t think I’m in the position to ask for any favours at the moment.’
Celia nods and gets back to her soup. ‘Needs a little more salt.’
I look around, but there’s none on the table. ‘I’ll get some.’ I stand and head to the counter just as my phone rings. There’s no number displayed, and I briefly wonder if it might be Cassie ringing me before dismissing that idea as preposterous. I doubt I’ll hear from her for at least another ten years. If I’m lucky, that is.
‘Hello?’
There’s no reply.
‘Hello?’
My pulse begins to pound, and the noises of the café seem to fade away.
‘Dina, is that you?’
Whoever it is hangs up and the sounds of the café return – laughter, chatter, the clink of cutlery against china.
‘Excuse me.’ I look up to see a member of staff waiting to get past me. I apologise and move out of the way, remembering that I was heading to the counter to get salt for Celia. Now all I can think about is whether that was my sister on the other end of the line. And if it was, why won’t she say anything? What does she want?
Eighteen
NOW
With the children in bed, Toby and I are in the living room deciding what to watch on TV. I’m in the mood to watch something light-hearted, whereas Toby’s trying to persuade me to watch some dark political thriller that I don’t currently feel my brain can cope with.
I’ve told him about Cassie’s horrible magazine piece and about the phone call, but I played both incidents down as I couldn’t face rehashing them again. I’m fed up with all the uncertainty over my sister and the drama with Cassie. I’ve decided to concentrate on looking forward to our party and trying to forget all my anxieties. I need to focus on the good things in my life. Ten years of a happy marriage and two beautiful children is an incredible thing to celebrate. If my sister wants to get in touch, she will. And, like Celia said, if Cassie wants to be a bitch, then that’s her problem.
I glance down at my phone to see a missed call from my dad. I click on his voicemail message.
‘Hello, Zoe. Just checking in to see how you’re doing. Haven’t heard from you in a while.’
As Toby is still scrolling through the Netflix menu, I give my dad a call.
‘Hi, Dad, got your message.’
‘You okay? You sound a bit… down.’
‘I’m okay, just tired.’
‘You sure that’s all it is?’
‘Yeah, of course.’ It’s not like Dad to be overly concerned. ‘Are you still coming to the party on Friday? I know parties aren’t really your thing, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but it would be good to see you there.’
‘Of course I’ll be there. I can sit in the bar and read the paper.’
I give a wry laugh. ‘Perfect.’
‘All right. Got to go. My dinner’s ready and the microwave’s beeping at me.’
‘Okay, Dad. See you Friday.’ I end the call and feel a pang of something. A longing for more simple childhood days. For the times when we used to have family trips out to the beach, and picnics in the park. When Dad would bring home fish and chips after work and Mum would call him her hero. For the times when I never questioned the love and security I felt at home with my parents. I just assumed it would carry on forever. Until it didn’t.
