The Armchair Bride by Mo Fanning Read Free Book Online Page B

cloth napkin and rearrange the knife and fork. I look around at the artwork and back at the Toby jogs. Anywhere but right ahead where Audrey’s mother sits, her eyes fixed on me.
    When our hosts return, Brian carries a tray with five small bowls of soup. Audrey supervises as he places them in front of each guest. It’s a fairly bog- standard tomato and tastes like it’s out of a tin.
    ‘This is lovely,’ I say between mouthfuls. Everyone agrees. Everyone except the old bat opposite, who isn’t eating.
    ‘Mother, are you not hungry?’ Audrey says.
    ‘Don’t like it,’ she says in a spiteful little voice and pushes her bowl away. Soup spills over the side and sinks into the crisp white tablecloth.
    ‘Oh honestly, mother!’ Audrey scolds.
    ‘Let me help,’ I say and lean across to help soak up the spilled soup with my napkin.
    ‘Leave it!’ Audrey snaps, and I jerk back in shock. I’ve heard about dinner parties from hell. The trouble usually starts after coffee as the drink flows, when guests pick on each other. I’d not expected to feel so horribly small mid way through the starter.
    Nobody speaks as Audrey pushes back her chair and collects half full soup bowls.
    ‘Do you want a hand with the main, darling?’ Brian says. She doesn’t answer, just leans in to dab at her mother’s lips with a white tissue and then heads for the kitchen. I transmit silent pleas to Andy to say something witty and diffuse the situation.
    ‘Do you go to the theatre much Mrs. Hawe?’ he says.
    ‘I already said you should call me June dear, and no, I don’t. There isn’t much on I fancy. And even when there is, old money bags claims he can’t get free tickets. He’s supposed to be in charge. Surely he can swing something for family.’
    ‘Mother, you know how it is. Lisa can tell you…’ Brian starts to say.
    ‘I don’t need that girl to help explain anything you’ve been up to, do I?’ she says and once again conversation dies.
    ‘Ta-dah!’ A revitalised Audrey places a roast chicken surrounded by golden roast potatoes in the middle of the table. She goes back to the kitchen only to return with dishes loaded with butter-soaked vegetables and a gravy boat brimming with rich brown liquid. I’ve never felt less like eating.
    ‘This looks lovely Mrs. Hawkins.’ Andy helps himself to chicken.
    ‘Yes thanks, it does,’ I say unconvincingly and hold out my plate which Andy loads first with slices of meat, then stuffing, potatoes, carrots and peas.
    ‘Tuck in,’ says Brian and everyone does. Everyone except me. I push my dinner around the edge of the plate.
    ‘Not hungry Lisa?’ Audrey says. ‘That’s the trouble these days. Women like you are always too busy watching your figures.’
    ‘I bet she’s not the only one watching her figure,’ Brian jokes and Audrey glares.
    June stops eating and once again pushes away her plate. ‘That was lovely darling, but it isn’t sitting well with me.’
    ‘Oh dear, do you want an indigestion tablet?’ Audrey says.
    ‘No I’ll be fine. Let me sit here for a minute.’ She leans back in her chair. Her bony cheeks become flushed and her eyes bulge. Everyone stops eating, forks poised in mid air.
    ‘Are you OK mother?’ Audrey says.
    June gulps for air, clutching at her chest.
    ‘Christ Brian. Call an ambulance.’ Audrey jumps up, her chair crashes to the floor. She unfastens her mother’s collar and rubs her back. ‘Quickly. 999.’
    Brian runs to the phone and dials, soon he’s given directions, describing symptoms.
    ‘She’s turning blue,’ he says. ‘You need to come now.’
    That’s when June’s eyes open, she smiles and lets out the hugest belch. I swear the chandelier above the table shakes. Nobody speaks. She sits back up in her chair and leans on the table, her hand still at her chest.
    ‘That’s better,’ she says.
    Brian apologises and hangs up. Andy’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter and I feel an uncomfortable need to join in.