Miss Potterton's Birthday Tea by Amanda Prowse Read Free Book Online Page B

shall wait.’
    She turned her head towards the hallway, her fingers fidgeting on the chair.
    The expectation, as they listened for the reassuring ping of the bell or the light rapping of knuckles on the glass, gave the room a physical weight that bore down on them like a leaden cloak.
    â€˜Do you drive, Tina?’ Ian made small talk.
    â€˜Only my son round the bend.’ She smiled.
    â€˜Ha! Very good!’ He laughed too loudly and for too long.
    â€˜No, never seen the point, really. Buses are good as gold from where I live and I wouldn’t know where to start with a car, even if I could drive. I mean, it’s not like I could get a car, so learning to drive always felt a bit pointless. My dad had a van. He was a delivery driver for Addison Lee back in the day.’
    Ian nodded. ‘I think it’s admirable not driving a car. I hate to think what my gas-guzzling tractor does to the environment.’
    â€˜Oh God! Don’t tell me Helen is encouraging you to go green and start riding a bike everywhere!’ Miss Potterton tutted and ran her tongue over her lips, clearly parched.
    â€˜No! No, quite the opposite. I’d like a bike, in fact, but she was very keen we got the four-by-four – good for off-roading and narrow country lanes.’ He looked at the floor.
    â€˜Do you do a lot of off-roading?’ Tina wasn’t exactly sure what that was, but she also wanted to make conversation.
    â€˜No, never.’ He stared at her.
    â€˜But you live in a narrow country lane?’
    Ian shook his head. ‘Again, no.’ He pictured the top-of-the-range monstrosity that Helen had convinced him was necessary, when all he really wanted was a bike, and a little Mini with cup holders for his lunchtime coffee and a good sun visor. ‘In fact, I don’t know why we got the bloody thing. Something else she talked me into.’
    â€˜Language, young man!’ Miss Potterton remonstrated.
    Tina felt the giggle rise in her throat and turned on her heel, making a hasty exit to the kitchen. She felt his eyes following her as she left the room.
    â€˜Mum, I’m getting bored.’ Marley threw a sugared almond into the air and tried to catch it in his mouth. When he missed, he caught it in his hand and tried again.
    â€˜Not too much longer. What’s the bloody time?’ She pulled her phone from her back pocket and slid the screen. ‘God, it’s nearly half past! Please don’t say they’re not coming.’
    She ran her palm over her face, wishing she’d never suggested the birthday party in the first place. Then she bent over the countertop and buried her head in her hands.
    â€˜Knock, knock!’ Ian alerted her to his presence.
    â€˜Oh God! Hi! I was just having a think.’ She was flustered and could feel two spots of colour rising on her cheeks.
    â€˜This is my son, Marley. Marley, this is Dr Ian.’
    Ian walked forward and shook hands with Tina’s son, silently admiring the boy’s impressive Afro. ‘Just Ian – don’t worry about the doctor bit.’ He smiled.
    Marley nodded.
    â€˜Are you thinking what I’m thinking – that we might be a bit light on guests?’ Ian held Tina’s gaze.
    â€˜Don’t! I’m hoping they’ve just got held up.’ She blinked.
    â€˜Yes, possibly.’ He nodded. ‘But what do we do if they’re no-shows?’
    â€˜We…’ She looked around the kitchen for inspiration, staring at the beautiful iced fruitcake with the ivory bow and pearl detail. ‘I don’t know!’ she squealed, dreading the thought.
    â€˜Who are we waiting on?’ Ian asked.
    â€˜Oh, Gawd.’ Tina hated having to recite the names, as if it was some kind of memory test. ‘We’ve got Mr and Mrs Govington-Thingy, and Mr Tyson-Blaine, and the three ladies from the Residents Association, whose names, I’m embarrassed to say, I can’t recall,