Fiona Gibson - The Great Escape - The laugh-out-loud romantic comedy from the summer bestseller

‘She made me and Josh one each,’ Daisy explains, tossing back her long dark hair. ‘I don’t think he looks at his though.’

‘Oh. Well, I guess boys aren’t really into that kind of thing.’

‘What, weddings?’

‘No, um … looking at wedding photos. You know.’ Hannah’s entire body is now prickling with unease as she tries to conjure up a fictitious emergency downstairs – the smell of burning or gas – that will give her an excuse to charge out of Daisy’s room. She doesn’t want to scare the child by making her think her home is about to explode, but nor does she wish to peruse the album, which Daisy has now opened on her lap to reveal a full-page close-up of Petra’s radiant smiling face.

Petra doesn’t look like a fat nurse. There’s nothing medical about her whatsoever. She’s so lovely and elegant with her jet-black hair piled up that Hannah’s breath catches in her throat. For an instant, she thinks Daisy must have found a copy of Brides magazine, snipped out a picture and stuck it in the album to trick her. But no, it’s her mother all right – those are Petra’s steely grey eyes, sharp cheekbones and perfectly painted red lips. ‘This is Mummy arriving at church,’ Daisy murmurs, stroking the side of Petra’s face.

‘That’s nice.’ Hannah swallows hard.

‘And that’s Grandma Esther standing next to Mum,’ Daisy adds, turning the page.

Hannah feels ridiculous, perching gingerly on Daisy’s bed, and sneakily checks out roughly how many pages the album might have. A dozen or so and she’ll probably be able to hold it together, but this is a chunky album that could conceivably go on forever. ‘Maybe you’d better get your PJs on now,’ she says gently. ‘It’s gone half-eight …’

‘Yeah, in a minute. Anyway, look – that’s Daddy in his wedding suit. Is he gonna wear the same one at your wedding?’

‘No, he’s having a new one altered, remember?’ Hannah says, willing Ryan to come upstairs, witness the cosy tableau and chivvy Daisy into bed.

‘Oh yeah. Look! That’s the dress I was telling you about.’

Hannah tries to focus on the stunning woman before her. But her head is swimming and she can no longer make proper words come out of her mouth. How can Ryan not still be in love with this woman? Hannah has met Petra numerous times, when she’s picked up or dropped off the children, and has always thought, yes, she’s striking, but somehow her chilliness cancels out her beauty. But she’s never seen Petra look like this – like a woman in love, who’d go on to bear Ryan two children whom they’d raise together until her shock announcement three years ago that she must ‘put myself first’. Heartbroken and stunned, Ryan simply hadn’t seen it coming. As far as he was concerned, Petra’s career as a concert cellist had come before everything else.

Maybe that’s it, Hannah thinks, a sense of dread washing over her. Ryan asked her to marry him simply in an attempt to get over Petra. He is trying to force himself not to love her anymore.

Daisy is still going on about her mother’s billowing veil. Hannah tries to show appreciation, but her tongue feels like a dry thing flapping around in her mouth. They’re only wedding photos, she tells herself sternly. She’s just showing them off because she likes to look at them. It’s nothing more sinister than that.

‘Don’t you like it?’ Daisy swivels round to face her.

‘Oh, yes,’ Hannah croaks. ‘It’s beautiful. A really amazing veil.’ Turn the page , she thinks desperately, so we can look at pictures of the bridesmaids or cake. Daisy turns the page. There’s a group picture with everyone neatly arranged in two rows in front of the church, squinting in the sunshine. So many people. Hannah wonders who they all are. There’s also a close-up of Ryan standing next to his new bride, two beautiful people setting out on a life together. ‘So you’re up for this shopping trip at the weekend?’ she says faintly as Daisy flicks through the final pages.

‘Yeah, okay,’ Daisy mutters.

They sit side by side for a moment, with Daisy now resting the closed album on her knees as if reluctant to put it away. Hannah isn’t sure if she’s imagined it, but Daisy might possibly have shuffled a millimetre closer to her on the bed. ‘Thanks for showing me the album,’ Hannah says gently. ‘It obviously means a lot to you.’

Daisy nods mutely and bites her lip.

‘I’m looking forward to our day out, are you?’

She nods again.

‘I, er … I hope you’re looking forward to our wedding too,’ Hannah ventures, wondering if it would be okay to put an arm around Daisy’s shoulders, or if she’d flinch, or leap up and run out of the room. No, better not.

‘Yeah,’ Daisy replies, her gaze fixed firmly on the album. ‘But I still can’t understand why it’s not in a church.’

‘I can’t believe she did that,’ Ryan whispers in bed that night. After half a year of living here, Hannah still finds the nocturnal whispering bizarre. It’s not even as if they’re up to anything. Ryan is wearing pyjamas, for God’s sake. With Josh’s bedroom next door, and Daisy’s the one after that, the only time it feels remotely okay to have sex is if the kids aren’t home, or if she or Ryan happen to wake up at some ungodly hour, like 4.30 am, when they’ll grab the opportunity. It gives their sex life during the week an urgent quality, and makes the three out of four weekends when Daisy and Josh are at their mother’s feel like a bit of a treat.

Lately, Hannah has started to hanker for a baby of her own; yet, as she’s never had the faintest yearning before, she worries that this might be some desperate attempt to redress the balance. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she tells Ryan, snuggling closer. ‘Daisy wasn’t doing it to be mean or anything. And I bet every girl’s entranced by her mum on her wedding day.’

There’s a beat’s silence and she breathes in the scent of Ryan’s skin. There’s something almost edibly warm about him: sweet and moreish, like a croissant. Hannah’s paranoia about Petra has ebbed away, and she plants a soft kiss on his chest.

‘I know they don’t make it easy for you,’ he says.

‘Well …’ She hesitates. ‘It’s not easy but, you know, I’m an adult. We’ll get there. It’ll just take some time.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he says, kissing her. I am , she reflects. I just need to keep believing that. Anyway, what kind of person of Ryan’s age doesn’t come with a little baggage? In fact, she likes the fact that he knows what days gym kits are needed and never forgets to pay the deposit for a school trip. So much information to store, and he manages it so admirably. She doesn’t even think of Ryan’s children as baggage; after all, they belong here, while she feels like an awkward guest at a fancy boutique hotel, under the watchful eye of two stern concierges. ‘Anyway,’ she adds, ‘I’ve got some good news. I’ve been thinking me and Daisy should spend some time together, so I asked her if she’d like to come shopping and she said yes.’

‘But you hate shopping,’ he exclaims. ‘You can’t stand it. You don’t see the point …’

‘I know, but I thought she’d enjoy it.’ Because I don’t know her, you see. I don’t really know anything about your daughter.

‘Well, I think it’s a great idea.’

‘And hopefully,’ Hannah adds, ‘it’ll get her in the wedding mood.’

Ryan pauses, then asks, ‘Are you in the wedding mood, Han?’

Hannah frowns in the darkness. ‘What d’you mean?’

He hesitates, and the hand which has been stroking her back and shoulders comes to a halt. ‘I … just think you seem a bit tense, that’s all.’