Page 66 of A Sky Painted Gold

“More time for running around and being independent like you?” Alice says, ignoring me.

“No,” I begin. “Of course not.” She cuts me off.

“I have a life, Lou.” Alice gets angrily to her feet. “It may not be the kind of life your fancy new friends live, but it is mine and I like it. I have a husband and we’re having a baby. What exactly do you have?”

“That’s not fair, Alice,” I say desperately. “I didn’t mean any of that, I wasn’t trying to upset you. I meant more time settling in to married life, more time before things changed again.”

Alice isn’t listening any more. “You act like those people are so great. Like I’m the one throwing my life away. Meanwhile you have beach parties and drink cocktails and ignore your real life completely,” she storms. “It’s been like this for weeks. I’ve hardly seen you and you’re running around with them, pretending to be one of them, but you’re not like them, Lou, no matter how much you want to be.”

“I know that!” I say, and there are tears in my voice as I feel anger welling up inside me.

“Do you?” she asks, looking at me with something suspiciously like pity, and it’s that that breaks me open. I feel a tear slide down my cheek. “Because you don’t act like it. But what happens when they leave in a couple of weeks? Do you think they’ll take you with them?”

“Of course not,” I manage, and then I pull my shoulders back. “And you should be careful, you sound just like Aunt Irene.”

“Well, maybe Aunt Irene is right for once!” Alice yells.

“Can you even hear yourself?” I ask. “You’re defending Aunt Irene. When did you turn into such a disapproving old woman?”

“I guess it was when I married the love of my life, which you seem to think is the worst thing I could possibly have done,” Alice snaps, twirling and stomping back towards the house. “I can’t believe you acted like this,” she calls over her shoulder. “Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” I shout after her, like a petulant child. I flop back down on to the ground, my head buzzing. I am angry and upset, and I spend a few minutes muttering some choice words under my breath and thinking about all the witty, hurtful things I should have said to Alice.

But slowly, slowly, I begin to realize that I am not angry at her, I am angry at myself. Yes, I had been surprised, but I should have been happy for her – this is what she wants. Instead I felt the ground being tugged from underneath me, felt another part of my familiar world slipping further away, felt Alice leaving me behind. And not only that. The Cardews are leaving me behind as well. I know that my summer escape is coming to an end and I feel so lost. I was horrible to Alice. And I was selfish.

I get to my feet and hurry back to the house, calling Alice’s name.

“She and Jack left about ten minutes ago,” Midge shouts from the kitchen. I am about to go after them, but she calls me back into the kitchen. “They are going straight to see Jack’s mother, remember?” she says.

“Oh, I’d forgotten.” I sigh, slumping into a nearby chair.

“You two have a fight, did you?” Midge asks, putting dishes back in the cupboards. I get to my feet to help.

“How did you know?” I ask.

Midge chuckles. “You act like I haven’t known you for eighteen years. Don’t worry, you can make it up tomorrow.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “It was pretty bad. The worst, really.”

“It will be fine,” Midge says calmly. “No use worrying over it tonight. Don’t let it spoil your party.”

“I’m not feeling in the party mood right now.” I sigh again.

“After all the trouble those nice friends of yours have gone to?” Midge asks. “That’s very pretty behaviour.”

“You’re right,” I say, trying to sound more cheerful.

“Of course I am.” Midge comes over and hands me a plate. “Now, you’ve still got other guests in the house. Take some of these biscuits through and see if anyone wants one.”

“Midge!” I laugh. “No one’s going to have room for biscuits after all that.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll fit a couple in,” she says. “Now, run along. I heard Irene complaining about the music again. Go and put that nice Mr Jelly Roll on.”

“Good idea,” I say, heading through to the sitting room. If anything will cheer me up right now, it’s scandalizing Aunt Irene.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN