Katie Fforde - Going Dutch

‘It seems bigger than it was when we played here, although I know it's supposed to be the other way round.'

‘I did a short garden design course ages ago. It taught all sorts of tricks. You'll have to have a proper tour later.’

Tom had tuned out during the discussion about gardens. 'I probably shouldn't say this, Jo, but you are looking particularly good today,' he said.

‘Why shouldn't you say that?' asked Jo, smiling.

‘My mother would- think it was judging people by appearances or something.’

She laughed. 'Well, I don't mind you saying it one bit.'

‘It's the new hair and the bras,' said Karen. 'Costs a fortune but worth every penny, don't you think, Ma?'

‘I do. But on the other hand I could have wished that you hadn't announced to the world the private details of my underwear.'

‘Oh, pooh. You should get your mother to go there, Tom.’

Tom and Dora exchanged glances at the thought of Tom's mother worrying about a bra that did more than just strap her breasts firmly to her.

‘Tom's mother isn't exactly a fashion victim, Karen,' said Dora.

‘And nor am I!' insisted Jo, laughing.

Dora and Tom exchanged glances again and Dora leant slightly into him. Definitely more than just friends, thought Jo.

‘So tell me Dora and Tom,' said Karen, 'Have you two finally got together?’

Jo winced at this second example of her daughter's blush-making frankness but Dora just looked at Tom and smiled.

‘Err, well yes,' said Dora shyly. 'Yesterday.’

Tom put his arm proprietorially round Dora's shoulders and grinned. 'We're going to go travelling together when we've saved enough money,' he said.

‘Tom arranged a heavenly picnic on an island in the Thames,' said Dora. 'It was very romantic.'

‘Oh!' said Jo, nearly dropping the bread in her hurry to hug Dora. 'That's wonderful! I'm so happy.' Then she paused. 'Did I tell you I'd invited your parents?’

Dora bit her lip. 'No, I don't think you did. But I know I didn't tell you-'

‘Oh, here they are!' Jo tucked the bread under one arm. 'Cliff! Sukie! Come on in. I'll just dump this!’

Dora saw Jo escaping to the kitchen and knew she had to tell her parents about Tom as soon as possible, before anyone else did. Then she must tell Jo that Marcus might be coming. 'Mum! Dad!' She hugged them both.

Then Karen hugged them too. 'You both look so well! And please don't tell me I've grown, it'll make me think I'm fat!'

‘Silly girl, you're as lovely as ever,' said Sukie, who to Dora's relief did seem very relaxed today.

‘Mum, you remember Tom, don't you?'

‘Oh yes,' said Sukie. She kissed Tom's cheek and while Cliff shook Tom's hand she inspected her daughter.

‘Anything you want to tell me?' she asked as they drew aside.

Dora laughed. 'Yes, well, nothing much, but we are now together.'

‘An item?’

Dora nodded.

‘Oh, I'm so pleased. Your ex future mother-in-law has been driving me mad going on about how happy John is with his new girlfriend.' She turned to Karen. 'Now we'd better go and say hello to your father. I really don't know how to greet him.'

‘He and Mum are being very grown up about it. There's no need to be embarrassed,' said Karen.

As always when she was entertaining, Jo liked to spend a lot of time in the kitchen, making sure the food was all that it should be. Today she was also spending a fair amount of time trying to find things. Even though she had spent a few days here, she hadn't liked to pry. She now felt rather like a guest, it really wasn't her home any more and she wasn't quite as saddened by the thought as she had once been. She didn't want to ask Philip where his new young love might have put her favourite china dishes because he probably wouldn't know, and she didn't want to appear territorial.

Finally, the potatoes were cooked and drenched in butter, scattered with chopped parsley and in a bowl that would do, even if it wasn't her favourite Quimper dish that had been a wedding present. She walked through the house carrying the dish. Everyone was staring across the large triangle of garden at the front gate. Jo put the dish down and then looked too. It was a little too far for her to see comfortably and there was a large philadelphus in the way, but the figure who was struggling to open the gate while carrying several bottles of wine appeared to be Marcus.

Her first thought was relief that she was wearing one of her new bras and that she'd put her glamorous new sandals back on. Her second thought was that something must be wrong with The Three Sisters in Holland, and that he'd come in person to tell her – like policemen do when someone's been killed.

‘Um, we sort of invited him,' said Dora quickly and guiltily. 'We hope you don't mind.'

‘Erm… of course I don't mind,' said Jo, wondering how she did feel. 'Go and help him with the gate.’

But Tom had already leapt over the various borders, fought his way through a stand of ornamental grasses, a patch of white willowherb and a twisted willow, got caught on a climbing rose and was leading Marcus up the path. 'Tom is rather fab, isn't he?' said Karen to Dora.

‘Mm,' said Dora, laughing. 'And he's mine!’

Jo realised she had only a few minutes to collect herself while they came through the house. She felt as if she was observing everyone through a camera lens.

Philip was laughing at something Miranda had said and looking particularly handsome, Jo thought. Bill was examining the bottom of his Pimm's glass as if by peering into the cucumber and borage flowers some more alcohol would manifest itself. Irrelevantly, Jo wondered if Miranda had succumbed to the lure of Pimm's in spite of saying she'd just have wine.

Karen was looking stunning – golden skin, blonde hair perfectly cut in a spiky, wayward manner – and Jo felt proud that Marcus would see her daughter looking so good. She conceded that some of her admiration could be put down to the fact that Karen was her daughter but she dismissed it quickly.

Dora, standing next to Karen, was as lovely in a slightly different way. Should those two girls decide to go on the pull together, she thought, they would be lethal.

These and a million other irrelevant thoughts flitted through her mind like moths as her brain barricaded itself against thinking about Marcus. Then he appeared, Tom in his wake.

He came up and kissed her cheek, looking somehow different, yet the same. 'I brought some wine.’

He appeared to want to hand the bottles that Tom hadn't taken from him to her. The part of her brain that was still seeing things from a distance thought he was like a midwife presenting a baby to a new and nervous father. 'Marcus…' she said, 'there was no need – how lovely – is everything all right?’

Tom fielded the remaining three bottles and took them to the table.

‘I had to come,' muttered Marcus.

The breath left Jo's body suddenly and only long ingrained social skills enabled her to say, 'Marcus, you remember Philip.' She cleared her throat to stop it sounding so husky.

Philip came forward. He looked wary and had stopped smiling, as if he sensed something. 'Of course, Marcus old chap, long time no see. This is a bit of a bolt from the blue, isn't it?’

They shook hands, rather as boxers shake hands before a match, because convention required it.

‘This is my daughter, Karen,' Jo said, but Karen didn't take his hand. She obviously sensed something too.

‘And you know Miranda and Bill, don't you?' Jo said quickly.

‘Of course.' Miranda came forward and kissed Marcus. Bill raised his hand. 'Looking forward to hearing about your latest trip-'

‘No we're not!' said Miranda. 'I mean – not everyone here is interested in boats,' she finished lamely, picking up on the tension.