‘We both deserve it,’ she says. ‘It’s been quite a year.’
His smile falters then and he says, ‘Yes. It really has been.’ He turns to grapple with the champagne bottle. ‘Right,’ he says, ‘please don’t let me fuck this up.’ He eases the cork from the bottle and Tallulah brings her flute close to the bottle neck, just in case, but the cork leaves smoothly with a gentle pop and Zach pours her a glass and then himself and then he says, raising hisglass to hers, ‘To us. Zach and Tallulah. And to Noah, the best little man in the world. Cheers.’
Tallulah touches her glass against Zach’s and is grateful when he doesn’t hold her gaze or expect her to reciprocate his sentiments in any way and instead turns his attention to the paper menu in front of him. ‘Right,’ he says. ‘Literally order anything. Price is no object. Whatever you want.’
She glances at the menu and sees a whole sea bass served with broccolini and pilau rice for thirty-five pounds. She gulps and says, ‘Well, I won’t be having the sea bass.’
‘Have the sea bass,’ says Zach. ‘Seriously, have whatever you want.’
‘I don’t even like sea bass.’
He rolls his eyes at her affectionately and she sees his hand go to the pocket of his trousers as he’s done a few times since they left the house and she knows that that’s where the ring is and her mouth feels dry and she thinks: Why is she doing this? Why has she let it get this far? She is going to humiliate him and crush him and all of this, this golden summer night of champagne toasts and chivalry will curdle into something unbearable and cruel. But no, she reminds herself, no, tonight is not real. Tonight is a mirage. She reminds herself of the night she slept over at Scarlett’s, the barrage of increasingly abusive messages and videos, the way he pressed his face so close to Noah’s, using him to get to her, to scare her, to bend her to his will. She thinks of the feel of his finger under her chin, poking hard and deep into the softness there, forcing her to look him in the eye. She thinks of how he wants her to give up her college course, give up her friends, stay at home, save money, be a good mother. She thinks of how he hasmanipulated his way into still living in her home, still sharing her bed and she thinks of how she let him and she thinks no, no, this can’t be a kind split, this can’t be ambiguous, this can’t leave any room for anything but animosity and pain. Because Zach is a controller and she has to show him that she cannot and will not be controlled and that all the champagne and big, soft eyes and compliments and expensive fish in the world is not going to change that.
She pulls in her breath to calm herself, and looks down at the menu.
As she does so, she hears a commotion at the door, the sounds of hooting laughter and loud chatter. She glances up and sees first Mimi, then Roo, then Jayden, then Rocky, with Scarlett and Liam bringing up the rear. Zach looks up and she sees displeasure register on his face. He hates the posh kids from the school across the common. He groans. ‘That’s the end of the peace and quiet.’
They head towards the bar, and Tallulah can feel Scarlett’s eyes burning upon her, but she keeps her gaze fixed on the menu. The words swim before her, meaninglessly. Cannellini. Jus. Anchovy. Rigatoni. Chorizo. She doesn’t know what any of it means. She just knows that Scarlett is at the bar and Scarlett is looking at her. She feels her phone vibrate and glances at the message.
Has it happened yet?
No, she replies.
I’m here if you need me.
K.
‘Who’s that?’
‘Just Mum,’ she replies. ‘Wants to know which pyjamas to put Noah in.’
Zach smiles. Then he says, ‘Fancy sharing a seafood platter with me?’
‘Oh,’ she says distractedly. ‘Maybe. What’s it got on it?’
‘King prawns. Smoked salmon. Clams. Potted shrimps. And caviar.’
She glances at the price. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I told you. We’re fine dining tonight.’
‘OK, then.’ She nods. ‘I mean, it’s up to you. I don’t really like caviar …’
Zach laughs and says, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll eat your caviar.’
She smiles and takes a large sip from her champagne glass. Scarlett and her mates are still at the bar putting in a long and very complicated order and asking for cashback and being generally loud and irritating. She glances up and catches Scarlett’s eye very briefly. She can feel her face flush pink and she quickly looks away and says, ‘Shall we order some fries?’
‘Hell, yes,’ says Zach. ‘Triple-cooked chips. French fries. Or truffle chips. Shall we just have one of each?’
‘Yes,’ she says, not really knowing what she’s saying yes to. She has no idea what a truffle chip is.
‘Excellent.’ He smiles and folds his arms.
Tallulah can hear Scarlett from here. ‘Have you got any rum from Barbados?’ she asks. ‘It’s called Mount Gay?’
‘’Fraid not. We’ve got Bacardi. Kraken …’
‘Kraken will do. But you should totally get some Mount Gay. It’s, like, the best.’