Summer at Tiffany's

by Karen Swan

  ‘Oh.’ Anouk’s voice betrayed disappointment as they passed the 1950s house, the Renault Clio and the Jeep parked outside at jaunty angles, a light shining through the downstairs window.

  ‘I know. It’s not a beautiful house, but wait till tomorrow when you see the setting and the views. It’s sensational.’

  She slowed as they approached Butterbox. Every light was blazing so that from a distance the house appeared almost aflame and there were various cars in the drive – Suzy’s Volvo, of course, and an old orange Beetle that she recognized as Hattie’s, but there was another, glossier one too, with a rental sticker on the back bumper. Had Laird’s brother caught a standby flight after all, then? Archie’s bike was propped up against the hydrangea bush, the day’s issue of The Times still rolled up and now damp with dew in the basket.

  They disembarked with care. Cassie was the only one who hadn’t had a hamper on her lap and they each had to stretch out, after hours of sitting hunched. They piled the hampers in a tower in the porch by the front door – some of them had been filled with the wine glasses and cutlery, others the jellies and pansies – ready to bring in shortly with a little help from the others.

  ‘Well, here goes,’ Cassie said quietly, her key in the lock and taking a deep breath as Anouk and Kelly both squeezed her shoulders. ‘Remember, say nothing yet to Suzy, OK? You’re just here to . . .’ She faltered, not having thought through an alibi.

  ‘Here to see her,’ Anouk said. ‘She’s been trying to get me down here for years.’

  ‘And I’m so desperate to get away from Bebe I’ll even spend seven hours in your tinpot car,’ Kelly quipped, taking the sleeve of Cassie’s light jumper and maternally tugging it down, over the bangle.

  ‘OK, yes. Good. Great,’ Cassie nodded uncertainly. She had a sense of standing on the precipice again, not sure if she was going to jump or be pushed.

  They stepped into the hallway, dropping their bags onto the sagging blue damask wing chair opposite the stairs. The house’s distinctive musty, salty tang had sweet and fresh top notes, thanks to an armful of long-stemmed pale pink roses lying out on the hall console.

  ‘Beautiful,’ Anouk whispered, rushing over.

  ‘Well, Hats must have come round to the idea of the marriage, then,’ Kelly murmured, lifting one and smelling it with her eyes closed. ‘I carried these at my wedding, do you remember?’

  As if she could ever forget. ‘Maiden’s Blush,’ Cassie nodded. It was the perfect wedding flower, albeit a rare, old-fashioned variety these days, which Hattie grew in her noteworthy dedicated rose garden at West Meadows. They had been the catalyst that had brought her and Henry together at last, and the sight and smell of them were almost painful to her now.

  The sound of voices in the sitting room carried down the hall – earnest conversation, some talking over each other, the tone harried and humourless. The women all looked at each other. Perhaps Hattie hadn’t come round after all? Were she and Suzy launching a joint last-minute offensive on Gem?

  ‘Hey. I’m back,’ Cassie called through casually, her eyes on Archie standing by the fireplace, the safest person she could cling to as she walked into the room. His arm dropped from the mantelpiece as he saw her. ‘Guess who I found wandering the streets of Pimlico.’ She stepped to the side to let Kelly and Anouk into the room too.

  Suzy clapped her hands over her mouth at the sight of them, tears springing to her eyes as she rushed over, clutching them both in a giant bear hug, her speciality. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you,’ she sobbed.

  Kelly and Anouk met Cassie’s eyes in silent concern. Cassie looked at the floor, uncomfortable at Suzy’s emotional reaction. Was she trying to garner sympathy, bring them on side? In a moment of clarity, Cassie knew her friend would never forgive her for the decision she was going to make; she would never support her as her friend; she would stand against her as Henry’s sister. Cassie was going to lose them both. Fact.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Laird and Gem on one sofa, but instead of Gem’s legs stretched over Laird’s lap, she was curled up beside him like a baby animal seeking warmth; Luke and Amber were on the other sofa, Luke’s arm slung lackadaisically across the back seat cushions, but she saw how he stiffened at the sight of her, and a frisson of electricity surged through her to be so close to him again. Even in her peripheral vision she could see how good he looked in his grey T-shirt and jeans; she could isolate his scent in a room full of others. Everything about him put her senses on high alert. Her heart was pounding, her nerves scorched and fried. She wanted to both run to and away from him at the same time; she wanted to kiss and slap him in the same moment; she wanted everything and nothing to do with him. She wished she had never met him; she couldn’t imagine not having met him. She didn’t regret a moment they’d shared of their past anymore, but was that the same as regretting not sharing a future? Cassie tugged on her sleeve, taking care to hide the dratted bangle from the others – it could give them away in a moment; hadn’t he thought of that? – as she stole a glance at him. She couldn’t help herself – and as his hazel eyes, apprehensive for once, locked with hers, she was taken aback by the force of the instincts that suffused every fibre of her mind, body and soul. Suddenly she knew. She knew exactly what she was going to do. She could feel it – the answer had come to her finally and it felt so right, so real, she thought she could bite down on it.

  ‘Where have you been?’

  She turned back to find Archie staring at her, a look of ashen desperation on his usually florid face.

  ‘You know where. I went back to London to get the food sorted. I said I’d be back tonight.’

  ‘Yes, but your phone . . . it’s been switched off!’

  She swallowed, not daring to look at Luke again. ‘That’s right. It, er . . . ran out of juice and I didn’t have a charger.’

  Archie ran a hand through his hair. ‘Cass, we’ve been trying to get hold of you.’

  She felt bad that she hadn’t told them in person. Maybe a note had been too abrupt? She could only imagine the grief Suzy had been giving him as Cassie disappeared forty-eight hours before the wedding. With the way things were between them at the moment, Suzy probably doubted Cassie’s promise that she’d be back in time, and the caterer going off radar with two days to go was every wedding planner’s nightmare, much less this wedding planner’s with this wedding.

  ‘Well, there’s really nothing to worry about. Everything’s sorted. I shopped yesterday and prepped today, thanks to my sous-chefs.’ She shot a relaxed smile across to the happy couple. ‘We’re good to go. I think you’re going to be very pleased.’

  ‘Great,’ Gem nodded, her smile weak.

  Cassie looked back to the others, baffled by the strangely muted mood in the room. Was this wedding on or not? Gem and Laird must have reconciled after the fallout from her fight with Suzy the other day, else they wouldn’t be sitting together, on the sofa, but there appeared to have been a seismic shift in dynamics.

  She became aware of glances sliding across the room like skaters on ice.

  ‘Look, there’s something—’ Arch began.

  ‘God, sorry! I’m being so rude not introducing you guys,’ Cassie said at the same time, remembering her manners. ‘Gem and Laird, Luke and Amber, meet Kelly and Anouk, our oldest friends.’

  ‘And dearest,’ Suzy said – proprietorially? – dabbing her eyes again.

  Everyone obeyed protocol and robotically shook hands, Luke greeting both Kelly, whom he knew well, and Anouk, whom he’d met once, with cautious reserve.

  ‘Drinks?’ Suzy asked, seemingly highly strung and fidgety tonight. Cassie wondered whether she was even aware of the way she kept balling her hands into fists.

  ‘Please,’ Anouk replied gratefully. ‘Anything red.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any coconut water?’ Kelly asked hopefully. Cassie glanced across at the super-healthy option and she felt a kernel of anxiety that they hadn’t had a mo
ment alone yet. She had to get some time on her own with her. How was Kelly able to keep up this pretence that all was well? How was she able to keep something so devastating a secret when Cassie couldn’t keep it under wraps that she’d kissed her ex?

  ‘Coconut water?’ Suzy pulled a face, looking more like her normal self for a moment. ‘Listen, you’re not in Manhattan now, honey. If you want even sparkling water, I’ll have to give you a straw and you can blow the bubbles yourself.’

  ‘Fine,’ Kelly laughed. ‘Then I’ll keep Arch company and have whatever he’s having. I’m trying to get healthy too.’

  ‘Says the woman who planks before bed just for kicks,’ Suzy muttered, wandering over to the drinks table. ‘Honestly, there are Olympians who’d be intimidated by you.’

  ‘Look, Cass—’ Archie began again.

  ‘Lemon, Kell?’ Suzy asked.

  ‘Thanks. Or if you’ve got any lime. Apparently it’s really good for the liver because of the—’

  ‘Would you all please just shut up and listen to me?’ Archie suddenly yelled.

  They all looked at him in amazement. Archie never raised his voice.

  ‘There’s something you need to know.’ His eyes were on Cassie and she felt herself go cold. ‘We’ve been frantically trying to get hold of you, but your phone was off.’

  ‘Oh, she’s here! She’s here! Thank God!’ Cassie turned to find Hattie calling back up the stairs, before advancing down the hall towards her with her arms outstretched. ‘Oh, my poor lamb.’ She hugged Cassie close.

  Cassie – who was now rigid with anxiety – stood as stiff as a board, waiting to be let go, to be told what was going on. Hattie stared back at her, hollow-eyed and hollow- cheeked. ‘Now, darling, it’s all going to be OK. I can feel it. In my bones, I can. I’m his mother and I know it’s all going to be OK.’

  Cassie’s mouth opened but no sound rose from her throat; her eyes blinked, but they couldn’t see – instead Suzy’s tears, Gem’s quiet, Archie’s agitation, Luke’s fear balled together in her mind. Her phone had been switched off. It had been switched off!

  The sound of feet – small, light, hurried – coming down the hallway made her glance over. They sounded echoey and she thought she was hallucinating at the sight of the slight, tidy woman running towards her. How could she be here? Why was she here?

  There could be only one reason.

  Gravity loosened its grip on her and she felt herself begin to float. She thought this must be what shock was, a total suspension of conscious control: she couldn’t take a step if she wanted to, couldn’t swat a fly or duck a punch. All she could do was wait – wait for the words that would spin her out of this self-protective cocoon and into freefall, because she already knew what they were going to say.

  But they were too slow – or rather she was too fast – and as she fell to the floor, the words remained unsaid. Unreal. Untrue.

  They were untrue.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  She came to on the sofa, her mother sitting beside her, rubbing her hand in her own, as she always had done when she’d been a little girl. No one else was around, although she could hear voices in the hallway, the sounds of doors banging.

  ‘What happened?’ Cassie croaked, disorientated. ‘Where is everyone?’

  Edie, her mother, leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. She looked older than she did on the Skype screens, worry etched into the corners of her eyes, threads of grey at her blonded temples, her round blue eyes, which Cassie had inherited, watery from tears. ‘You just fainted, darling. I told them all to give you some air. It was terribly stuffy in here.’

  They blinked at each other, both knowing that wasn’t why she’d passed out. Cassie realized she was holding her breath again. ‘Tell me the truth, Mum.’

  There was a tiny pause. ‘They’ve lost contact with the boat, darling. There was a typhoon.’

  ‘Typhoon?’ Cassie had grown up in Hong Kong. She was well accustomed to storms of this kind and she knew their power – how they whipped up tsunamis in the oceans and snapped communications towers like kindling twigs when they hit land. She remembered how her father used to lash the garden furniture to the balcony railings, religiously clearing out the gutters to make sure the water could run faster than it fell.

  Her mother squeezed her hand tightly. ‘But the good news – and what we really have to hold on to at this point – is that it was forecast. They knew the typhoon was coming and they had time to head towards the nearest land mass – some islands, we think.’

  ‘But if they’ve lost contact . . .’ Cassie prompted. She didn’t want to know, but she had to. Imagination would be so much worse than reality. There was no bliss in ignorance.

  ‘Then they must have been caught up in it, yes. Of course, it could be that some of the communications equipment was just damaged but the boat is fine. They may well be sailing along, absolutely tickety-boo, just without radio contact.’

  ‘When was the last contact?’

  ‘Tuesday night.’

  ‘Tuesday?’ Cassie echoed. It was now Friday night, but her phone had been switched off from yesterday. ‘But . . . but I was here till yesterday morning. Why didn’t we hear about it before then? I never would have g—’

  ‘No one here knew till Archie saw it in the papers yesterday, after you’d left. He got in touch with the communications people and . . . that’s when they told him. They thought we already knew. An email had been sent out apparently.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. They’re looking into it internally but . . . well, that’s a fight for another day. Right now, the only thing that matters is making sure that everyone on the boat is OK.’ She squeezed Cassie’s hand again. ‘Everyone’s been calling you constantly since they found out.’

  Cassie remembered the call she hadn’t returned to Suzy.

  ‘Archie even wanted to fly up and go to your flat to tell you, but Suzy’s not letting him out of her sight. He’s terribly stressed about it all and she’s worried sick about him. This kind of strain’s not good for him, so soon after his attack.’

  Cassie blinked, her head swimming again. While she’d been shopping and chopping, everyone here had been desperately ringing her, and all that time Henry had been – what of him? Was he desperately clinging to an upturned raft? Were the bottles scattering in the ocean, one by one, littering the seas and doing the very thing they were protesting against?

  She frowned. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’ Hong Kong was a twelve-hour flight away.

  ‘I was coming anyway, darling. I wanted to surprise you.’ Edie smiled. ‘I’ve been trying to support Hats through this wedding malarkey. Honestly, that poor family is going through the wringer at the moment – first Archie, then Gem, now Henry.’ She sighed. ‘Between you and me, I’m not sure how much more she can take.’

  ‘But you’re so terrified of flying.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘I’m more terrified of letting down my best friend. She needs me right now. How could I put my irrational fear before her very real trauma? Frankly, a Valium and a couple of gin and tonics was the very least I could do to support her.’

  Cassie smiled wanly – she knew the cost to her mother’s nerves would have been significantly graver than she was letting on – but her concern was elsewhere. She stared into space, trying to make the words real. She felt numb and disconnected, the words bouncing off her like rubber bullets: the boat was missing. The boat made with bottles in a typhoon-whipped ocean had lost contact with land, with the people who could read the satellites and keep them safe and bring them all back to the people who loved them.

  It was hideous but true: Henry was missing.

  ‘So w-what next?’ Her voice shook like a leaf about to fall.

  Edie sat straighter, pushing back her shoulders. ‘We wait, darling. That’s all we can do. Obviously, the satellite and communications people are in constant contact with the authorities. The boat will show up on a radar somewhere – military or commercial or what-h
ave-you. We’ll hear something soon. Any minute. Any minute.’

  The tears came then, small, tight budded ones as she tried to imagine the number of people searching for the man she loved, lost in the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. Reassurance was hollow when weighed against the bald facts, the overbearing odds as to what had happened.

  ‘Oh, darling, please don’t cry,’ Edie soothed, her voice cracking too. ‘He’ll come back. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ Cassie cried. ‘This entire expedition was risky enough, without putting a bloody typhoon in the mix.’

  ‘Hats sent me the links for the JustGiving page before he left. I thought the boat looked very professional and high-tech.’

  Cassie cried harder. Her mother’s idea of high-tech was an ice dispenser on the fridge. ‘God, poor Hattie,’ she wept, pressing her palms against her eyes, but the tears just overflowed through her fingers. Her son was missing at sea and Cassie knew her well enough to know that behind the brisk Pollyanna demeanour was the heart of a bunny. She looked up. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Upstairs, resting. I was giving her half of one of my Valiums when you arrived. It’s all too much. She has to try to relax. She’s no good to anyone if she’s exhausted. The poor old girl’s running on fumes.’

  ‘What about Suzy?’

  ‘Arch is with her. I think they’ve taken Velvet in with them for the night.’

  ‘Right,’ Cassie nodded, trying to swallow down the tears, to calm down.

  ‘We should get you up to bed too. Kelly and Nooks said you were up early, running around like the proverbial fly all day, and then a seven-hour drive on top of it all? It’s no wonder you were giddy.’

  ‘I’m fine, Mum, really. I think I’ll just . . . I’m just going to sit here for a bit. But you should go and check on Hats. Make sure she’s OK on your medication. I bet it’s superstrength, isn’t it?’