Page 25 of The Mistake

‘Jake,’ Emily interjects.

‘Jake,’ Pete says, with a glance at Natalie, who presses her lips together. ‘Some of the neighbours. We can make a playlist, I’ll knock up some cocktails, you can whip up some banging beige food …’

‘Oh my God,Dad,’ Emily groans. ‘I don’t want a party if it’s going to be pure cringe, I’ll just go out instead.’

‘It won’t be cringe, I promise.’

‘Pete, I don’t know …’ Natalie glances at Erin, who wriggles in her seat, her face sticky with rice grains. ‘Erin—’

‘Will be fine. I’ll help, I promise.’

‘Pleeeease, Mummy? Please?’ Zadie steeples her hands under her chin as her words whistle through the gap in her teeth, making Emily laugh.

Natalie sighs before she smiles, although it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I don’t suppose I have much of a choice, do I? You’re all ganging up on me, it’s three against one. Looks like we’re having a party.’

‘Yay!’ Zadie jumps off her chair and spins in a circle, her arms wide and her hair flying out behind her. ‘Can I get new shoes for the party?’

‘I don’t see why not.’ Pete can’t stop the grin that marches across his face, as he takes in the sight before him. Erin is not crying – she’s actually smiling and babbling as she reaches outto grab at Zadie, Emily seems to have lost what he thought was becoming a permanent scowl, and as Natalie reaches for her wine glass the light catches the diamond in her new ring. She meets his eyes and raises her glass.Maybe, he thinks,just maybe, everything is going to be OK.

The Party

Natalie

Natalie shoves another tray of sausage rolls into the oven and wonders again if there is any possible way she could get away with cancelling the party at this late hour. She’d felt ambushed when Pete had suggested throwing a party over dinner last month, mesmerised by the glint of the diamond he had presented to her. In all honesty, Natalie doesn’t need a diamond ring. She needs a husband who is present and willing to help out when she feels as though she’s drowning. She’d felt unable to say no completely to the party even though she’d tried, not when he’d spent all that money on her, and all three of them – Pete, Emily and Zadie – had been so excited at the thought of having a big celebration, not one of them stopping to consider that perhaps it might be too much for her to cope with. Now, as she grates cheese for sandwiches and Erin grizzles in her bouncy chair, she remembers why they haven’t had anyone over for ages. At least the rain that hammered down all night and well into the morning has finally stopped, although that was going to be her saving grace – Pete has invited too many people over for them all to fit comfortably in the house, so rain would have been the perfect excuse tocancel.

‘Cheese? Ugh, no one likes cheese sandwiches.’ Emily breezes into the chaotic kitchen, snatching the phone charger out of thewall.

‘Everyone likes cheese sandwiches,’ Natalie says as the oven timer pings and she moves to rescue this round of pastry before it burns. ‘Finish those sandwiches off, will you, while I get the next lot of food in the oven.’

‘Can’t. Sorry.’ Emily reaches for her jacket that hangs on the back of the kitchen chair – the jacket that Natalie has been asking her to take upstairs for three days.

‘What do you mean, you can’t? Emily, this is your party. I could do with some help.’ It’s only just gone lunchtime and Natalie is already exhausted. Erin is cutting teeth and woke up what felt like a hundred times in the night. At four o’clock this morning Natalie had given up and brought Erin downstairs, feeling a sharp bolt of resentment towards Pete as he slumbered on, oblivious.

‘I’m going to get my eyelashes done. And anyway, this whole thing wasn’t my idea. I would have just gone out in town with my friends.’ Without waiting for Natalie to respond, Emily swings her bag over her shoulder and heads for the front door, leaving Natalie to silently gnash her teeth and pray to God she gets through today without losing her shit.

‘Mum. Mum.Mum.’ Zadie appears in the doorway, an old teddy that she used to sleep with under one arm. It’s missing an eye and the faint smell of wee rises from its fur. Natalie can’t remember the last time she washed it.

‘What is it, Zade?’

‘I feel sick.’

Natalie thinks hanging on to that ratty old bear might be part of the problem. ‘You haven’t even eaten anything yet today, have you?’ She’d found Zadie’s soggy cereal left in the bowl when Zadie went upstairs to get dressed. ‘Do you want some toast? You can have one of these if you don’t tell Em.’ Natalie holds out a cupcake, knowing she’s cementing herself a place in the world’s worst parent Olympics, bribing her kid to eat breakfast at lunchtime by offering her cake.

‘I don’t want toast. Or that. I told you, I feel sick.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Natalie mutters under her breath. ‘You feel sick, Zadie, because you haven’t eaten anything today. You didn’t eat your dinner last night either. Your tummy needs food.’

‘You gave me pasta for dinner. I don’t like pasta.’ Zadie’s voice takes on a grating whine, and Natalie has to take a deep breath and count to five before she can speak.

‘You do like pasta. Everyone likes pasta. You liked pasta when Eve made it for you.’ Saying it out loud makes a knot form in Natalie’s stomach. If Eve was here, she’s sure Zadie would eat whatever she served up for her, just as she’s sure Erin wouldstop bloody cryingif Eve was here. Natalie shakes away the memory of the animosity she’d felt as she realised on her return home from the meeting with the school that Eve had changed Erin into a sleepsuit she’d bought for her. The same animosity and resentment that had flared when that woman had mistaken Eve for Erin’s mother at the duck pond, and again as Natalie left the doctor’s consulting room – the idea that Eve was somehow a better mother to Erin than Natalie crowding out any other thoughts.

‘Nat? Got any extra chairs in here? And I need a tablecloth for that big table outside.’ Pete waltzes into the kitchen, a huge grin on his face as he ruffles Zadie’s hair.

‘You know where things are, Pete, get them yourself,’ Natalie snaps.

‘I don’t know which tablecloth you want to use. I don’t want to get myself in trouble.’ Pete waggles his eyebrows at Zadie and she giggles, making Natalie’s blood bubble up. Erin continues to cry, but Pete doesn’t seem to hear her.

‘I don’t give a shit which tablecloth you use,’ she says, slamming plates onto the worktop. Pete dodges round Zadie, reaching out to pull Natalie towards him.

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