‘Welcome to our mansion,’ Tatjana said sarcastically.
‘Well, it is for a static home!’ Emma said as Tatjana sat next to her.
‘It’s not bad, is it? Still, I’m desperate to be out of it and into our new home.’ She picked up two wooden plates and handed one to Emma. ‘So, lunch. I’ve gone for a Spanish tapas vibe, I hope that’s okay?’
‘It’s perfect, thanks. You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.’
‘It’s a pleasure! Drinks!’ Tatjana exclaimed. ‘I forgot drinks. Wine?’
‘Don’t worry, Lawrence got me an orange juice.’
‘Oh come on, one teensy wine.’
‘I don’t drink, actually.’
Tatjana paused. ‘Really? Why’s that?’ Emma’s face flushed. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t pry. I hope you don’t mind if I drink though?’
‘Of course not.’
Tatjana padded through to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge, pouring herself a glass. She sat down beside Emma, even closer to her now, and draped her long arm across the back of the sofa.
‘It’s so nice to have someone to chat to,’ she said as she sipped her wine. ‘Honestly, the other mums are lovely enough, but a little dull.’ She bit her lip. ‘Am I allowed to say that?’
‘You can say what you want,’ Emma said, reaching for her orange juice. ‘I thought you were getting on quite well with them all, though.’
‘One has to play the school-run game, doesn’t one?’ Tatjana replied in a faux-posh accent.
‘My mum always tells me that,’ Emma said. ‘She reckons it’s the only way a child gets invites to playdates and parties. But Isla’s never had any problem with that despite me . . .’ Emma paused. Despite her what . . . not being popular?
‘This is why you’re so refreshing!’ Tatjana said. ‘Someone who knows their own mind. Someone who doesn’t feel the need to fit in. It’s great!’
Emma took a sip of her juice to hide her embarrassment at the compliment. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think I’m quite the maverick you make me out to be.’ She leaned forward and started piling food on to her plate, just to drive the attention away from her. ‘This looks delicious.’
Tatjana filled her plate, too. ‘Yes, I made it all last night. I really think the flavour improves when you leave it overnight.’
‘You made all this?’
‘Of course.’
‘Wow, impressive. I’m afraid it’s M&S all the way for me.’
‘Well, you’re too busy doing your working-mum thang,’ Tatjana said, popping an olive into her mouth.
‘Actually, I’m not that busy,’ Emma said quickly, not wanting Tatjana to think she was obsessed with work. ‘I get to leave on time most days, I don’t take much work home with me, we have a monitoring rota so that—’
‘Oh God, I wasn’t criticising, no!’ Tatjana said. ‘I miss my working days and plan to get right back on it when the little one goes to school.’
Emma laughed nervously. ‘Sorry, I can get a bit defensive about being a working mum. It seems like the worst thing you can be around here!’
‘That will be Kitty bloody Fletcher’s fault. She was so rude to you on Saturday!’
Emma looked down at her plate. She was still reeling from that. When she’d told Dele, he’d wanted to march right over to Kitty’s house and have a go at her.
‘In fact,’ Tatjana said with a mischievous smile, ‘I bumped into her during a walk with the boys yesterday and I had to get my own back on your behalf.’
Emma peered up at her, curious. ‘What did you do?’
‘I took great delight in telling her I would be returning to work as soon as I could. I know how obsessed she is with mums being at home as long as they can. Then I told her how I’d read a study on how beneficial moderate screen time can be for children’s creativity. She didn’t know what to say!’
Emma laughed. ‘I would love to have seen that!’ She leaned back against the sofa, feeling relaxed. ‘You must be excited about going back to work – is someone else looking after your company while you’re off?’
‘Oh no, I just let clients know I’m taking a break. I’ve been doing the occasional piece, though. I finished a stunning wedding dress in the summer.’
‘I was checking out your Instagram account, consider me impressed.’
Tatjana put her hand to her chest. ‘Why, that is a compliment coming from the queen of social media.’
Emma laughed again. ‘Hardly. So how long have you been in fashion?’
‘It feels like forever.’ Tatjana sank back into the chair, too, the light that was coming in from the ceiling window above highlighting just how perfect her skin was. She really was beautiful.
Just like Jade was . . .
Emma pushed the voice away.
‘I used to design clothes in my bedroom when I was, I don’t know, seven or eight?’ Tatjana continued. ‘By the time I was in my teens, it was a side hustle, making dresses for my friends and smuggling them into school, getting a fiver a dress. It snowballed from there really.’
‘When did it go beyond school friends?’ Emma asked.
‘When I went to university to study fashion, I knew I needed to take it to the next level or it’d come to nothing. So I signed up for a university course, then opened a market stall during my weekends. That old chestnut, hey?’
‘It clearly worked. Where did you grow up?’
‘Sussex.’ Tatjana stabbed her fork into a cube of cheese. ‘Anyway, the stall became a shop, then the shop became a website run from my flat. I mean, honestly, the rent on high-street stores, no wonder the high street is going bust. The website had minimal overheads and the money just flooded in.’ The tops of Tatjana’s cheeks went red. ‘Sorry, that sounds crass, talking about money.’
‘No, you should be proud! Is that how you met Lawrence, through the business?’
‘No, actually, we literally bumped into each other outside my university digs.’ A dreamy expression appeared on her face. ‘One look and that was it, love at first sight. Do I sound naive saying that?’
‘Not at all. Same with me and Dele.’
Tatjana leaned over and gently clutched Emma’s arm. ‘How brilliant. See, I knew we’d get on. Are you sure you can’t stay all afternoon? It would be so lovely to have some female company.’
‘Sorry, I’d love to, but I have work, Tatjana.’
‘Tat,’ she said. ‘Call me Tat. All my friends do.’
Emma felt a warmth clutch at her heart. Friends. Was that what was happening – they were becoming friends?
Emma realised then just how lonely she’d been since arriving in Forest Grove. It hadn’t been an obvious kind of loneliness. She was busy, always doing things. But that was with Dele and Isla. She didn’t have any girlfriends to talk to about stuff like this. Sure, she had her sister and her best friend from uni, Jo. But Jo had moved to Australia three years ago. They’d talk over Messenger or WhatsApp, sometimes call too. But it wasn’t the same. Not like this, sitting across from another woman, talking about the kinds of things she felt Dele simply couldn’t get as a man.
‘Let me go talk to Lawrence,’ Tatjana said, jumping up.
‘Honestly, I must get back, I—’
But it was too late, Tatjana was already opening the front door and leaning her head out. ‘Lawrence, darling, come here, will you?’ she shouted.
A few moments later, he appeared at the door, his son still in his arms. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Convince Emma to stay all afternoon, won’t you? Call her boss, tell her it’s business?’
Emma stood up. ‘You really don’t have to, Lawrence.’
‘It’s not a problem,’ Lawrence said with a beaming smile. ‘I’ve just been checking out your website and your LinkedIn profile on my phone. I’m impressed. We need to sort our social media out and I’m all for working with people we know. I’d love to take you on to help us.’
Emma blinked in surprise
. ‘But I need to do a proposal. Let you know our fees. I—’
‘Oh, he’ll pay anything,’ Tatjana said, waving her hand about.
‘I don’t know, I feel like I ought to send the proposal at least,’ Emma said, feeling a bit overwhelmed by how fast this was going.
Lawrence laughed, his son giggling in response. ‘Am I going to have to convince you to say yes to new business?’
‘Of course not,’ Emma quickly said. ‘We’d love to work with you!’
‘Then it’s settled. Send me your proposal tomorrow and we’ll get it all signed off,’ Lawrence said. ‘Now you get to celebrate with my wife.’
‘But . . . I have other work to do.’
‘I’ll call your boss,’ Lawrence said with the air of a man who was used to telling people in senior positions what to do. ‘I’m sure he’ll be very happy to hear his business has just won a new client and that I want to buy your time for the next . . .’ He looked at his expensive watch. ‘Four and a half hours if you finish at six? I’ll pop out to pick Zeke up so you can stay here, Tatjana.’
A loud rumble sounded out in the distance and Lawrence turned, a huge smile spreading over his face. ‘And just on time, here comes our house.’
‘Champagne!’ Tatjana said. She darted to the fridge and got out a large bottle of champagne along with some fizzy juice. ‘Don’t worry, you can have this.’
Emma watched them both, her head spinning. ‘I feel bad, being here for your special moment as a family.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Tatjana said. ‘Lawrence will be fawning all over the windows and fittings, won’t you, darling? I’ll need the company.’
‘Absolutely,’ Lawrence said.
Emma took a deep breath, looking between these two glamorous, gorgeous, rich and successful people. She thought of the looks stay-at-home mums like Lucy Cronin gave her at the school gates. At the way Dele would say before going out for dinner with his football friends: ‘You know you can go out too sometime, don’t you?’ Or her sister the last time they spoke: ‘So anything planned this weekend, other than hanging out with your husband and daughter?’
Emma smiled. ‘Go on then!’
What harm could it do?
Emma walked towards the school gates the next day, smiling as she thought of the afternoon before. Tatjana was a riot! They’d talked and talked and talked. Lawrence had joined them in-between dealing with Phoenix and picking up Zeke, and he was as charming as his wife.
Even more amazing, Emma got to see the Belafontes’ house arrive on board a massive lorry. For some reason, she’d imagined it coming in one piece, balanced atop a trailer. But it actually came delivered like a giant Ikea cupboard with sections piled on top of each other.
Tatjana and Emma had sat watching it being offloaded from the trailer, Tatjana sipping champagne. It really had been quite something to see the German builders put the windows and walls together piece by piece. The whole house would be up and waterproof within seven days, and ready to be occupied by the middle of October. It blew Emma’s mind, but then as she spoke more to Tatjana and Lawrence, she realised they were the kind of people who simply got things done.
Their drive and ambition made her think of Harriet. When she declared she wanted to get a job helping others when she was seventeen, she did it, defying their parents’ wishes for her to go to university and instead starting work at a housing charity. When she said she wanted to move to London without having a job, she did that too, dragging Emma (who did find a job) along with her. It helped that their dad had inherited his parents’ old flat so they could live there. No surprise, Harriet found a job herself very quickly and a great one at that. But her methods weren’t conventional: after reading an article about a think tank set up by a go-getting twenty-five-year-old, Harriet had waited outside their offices until she saw the woman in question. She followed her to a bar and managed to start up a conversation with her, getting a job offer by the end of the night.
‘How very Harriet of you,’ Emma had said when her sister had told her, so proud of her brave sister and wishing she had a bit of her chutzpah, too.
Emma felt that same warmth and buzz of being on the edge of something thrilling with the Belafontes that she felt with her sister. Maybe that was why she had decided to stay into the evening, calling Dele to see if he could pick Isla up from her after-school club? She wanted to keep talking to Tatjana. She wanted to keep watching this miracle of a house being assembled before her eyes. When she came home at eight, Dele was happy. ‘Good on you,’ he’d said.
Emma walked into the playground now and spotted Tatjana straight away, standing with Lucy and Myra. Emma’s heart sank when she saw them. She didn’t really want to go over with Lucy and Myra there.
But then Tatjana waved to her so Emma joined them anyway, her tummy doing circles.
Jesus, Emma, it’s just the school playground!
‘How’s the head?’ Emma asked Tatjana.
‘Not good,’ Tatjana confessed.
They both burst out laughing.
‘What’s this all about then?’ Myra asked, looking between the two women with a fake smile.
Tatjana linked arms with Emma. ‘I drank a little too much champagne in this young lady’s company yesterday. She didn’t drink a jot and yet still managed to be such a laugh!’
Lucy and Myra exchanged surprised looks.
‘Then you’ll have to come out for coffee with us in a minute,’ Lucy said to Emma. ‘You can tell us all about it.’
Emma regarded Lucy with surprise. Was that all it took, the nod of approval from a woman like Tatjana? How shallow. But then if it meant the school run might be less awkward, Emma could deal with shallow.
‘I’d love to, but I have to go to work,’ she replied, giving Lucy an extra-warm smile. She looked at her watch. She needed to somehow write an entire proposal for Lawrence by the afternoon.
‘Next time,’ Lucy said as the school bell rang.
Now Emma was truly astonished. ‘Absolutely,’ she said with another smile.
Was she finally fitting in at Forest Grove?
Chapter Thirteen
Welcome to the Mums of Forest Grove Facebook Group
Tuesday 22nd September
12 p.m.
Kitty Fletcher
Can I just say to the person who clearly took a large chunk out of their day to fake a MySpace profile of me that you’re fooling nobody. Anyone who isn’t blind can see it’s a completely doctored image of me. I am speaking to MySpace right now to get it taken down.
Ellie Mileham
MySpace? Wow, been a long time since I saw that site mentioned in a sentence.
Kitty Fletcher
This is serious, Ellie! The page is just awful!
Vanessa Shillingford
You know everyone’s going to go searching for the page now, don’t you Kitty?
Kitty Fletcher
No skin off my nose. You get used to stuff like this when you’re as high profile as me, but this has taken it to the next level.
Rebecca Feine
Do you mean this one, Kitty? Myspace.com/PurpleLoveKitty. I must say, the purple hair really does suit you! And what IS that you’re smoking . . . ?!
Kitty Fletcher
It is NOT me, Rebecca!
Belinda Bell
Are you sure? It looks a lot like you. And that painting on the wall in the background is up in your office, isn’t it?
Myra Young
Oh come on, anyone with decent eyesight can see it’s not Kitty, and as for the painting, there are several photos of Kitty’s office online, it could easily have been taken from that. Whoever has created this page needs to take a long hard look in the mirror considering all Kitty has done for this community.
Vanessa Shillingford
Could it be kids having a bit of fun?
Myra Young
The kids love Kitty here!
Belinda Bell
Says the woman who’s lived here less than a month!
>
Rebecca Feine
‘Love’ is a bit of a strong word for how people feel about Kitty, Myra . . . weren’t some of Kitty’s posters which were hung in Forest Grove High defaced a few years back?
Kitty Fletcher
Thank you for bringing that up, Rebecca. May I remind you they found the culprit, one silly little boy.
Tatjana Belafonte
So sorry to hear about this, Kitty. Something similar happened to me after Vogue online ran a piece about one of my designs.
Kitty Fletcher
Ah, you understand what it’s like, Tatjana. We had this discussion when we bumped into you at the woods on Sunday, didn’t we? I understand even more why you’ve decided not to return to work if things like this happen. A mother does not need such negativity around them. So what happened to you?
Tatjana Belafonte
A photo was doing the rounds on Facebook suggesting I had my clothes designed in a sweatshop. I found out it was a former university friend who I’d had a falling out with. She had a lot of experience with social media so it was no surprise really, when I look back. Might you have a disgruntled former client, Kitty?
Kitty Fletcher
Oh no, none of my wonderful clients would do this!
Tatjana Belafonte
Then someone you’ve had a run-in with lately?
Kitty Fletcher
Ah. I did have a bit of an altercation with someone at the weekend, now you mention it. Myra was with me at the time.
Myra Young
I was.
Pauline Sharpe
What happened?
Rebecca Feine
Don’t mention names here please!
Kitty Fletcher
I wouldn’t dream of it, Rebecca. Certainly food for thought though . . . especially when you mention the fact they’d need to know social media, Tatjana. This person would fit the bill perfectly.
Lucy Cronin
Hmmmm, I think I know who you’re talking about. I’ve heard some other things about this woman that’s rung alarm bells for me today.
Ellie Mileham
Circle of Doubt Page 8
