My Year of Saying No - Maxine Morrey Page 0,27

I don’t think it was stupid at all.’

‘You hated half of the things!’

‘So? At least I tried them!’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, you hated it so much you’ve dedicated this year to saying no so you can sit indoors in your bloody pyjamas!’

‘It’s not about that at all! It’s about saying no to things I don’t want to do. And your book club happens to be one of the things I definitely don’t want to do.’

She gave a dramatic roll of her perfectly mascaraed, aesthetician enhanced lashes. ‘All you’ve got to do is sit there and serve tea!’

‘I’m not a maid, Sally! And I have no interest in being one for you and your so-called friends.’

‘They are my friends.’

‘Well, then I pity you,’ I snapped.

‘Lottie.’ Dad’s soft tone brought me down from where I was beginning to climb the wall.

I let out a breath and shifted on my chair to face my sister. She was glaring at me with that haughty look she did so well.

‘Look, Sally. I’m sorry you’re upset and I don’t want to argue with you. But I can’t do the book club thing for you any more. I don’t enjoy it. I don’t feel comfortable with those women and I also have Humphrey now.’

Sally let out a sigh. ‘What on earth has your dog got to do with anything?’

‘Because he’d have to be shut in the kitchen the entire evening and he doesn’t like it. I don’t like it.’

She gave a small, sharp shake of her head as if me considering the emotional welfare of my pet, and apparently myself, was a ridiculous and inexplicable annoyance. ‘Well, it’s very inconvenient.’

‘I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t my intention, but I think it’s for the best.’

‘For you, obviously,’ she said, before turning back to Oliver and giving him a huge, dramatic eye roll.

I bit my tongue and then decided that Humphrey could probably do with a trip to the garden. ‘Mum, do you mind if I just take Humph outside for a moment? I’ll come and help you make tea and coffee in a minute.’

‘Of course, dear.’

I pushed my chair away from the table and headed over towards the kitchen and the large glass doors my parents had had fitted when they’d extended this room. My dog, who had been peacefully sleeping throughout the entire drama, rose, stretched and yawned and then trotted after me. He’d have been fine for a while yet, but I needed to get out and he was the perfect fuzzy excuse.

The cool air seemed to wake Humph up and, once outside, he set off charging around for a few minutes on an impromptu, and high speed, patrol just to make sure everything was as it should be. Having assessed that it was, he then set to exploring at a slower pace, giving everything a good old sniff and watering a few plants on his exploratory rounds.

I left him to it and wandered further down the garden to a seat my dad had built many years ago with timbers rescued from his own grandfather’s shed. Things were built to be far more substantial back then and the bench had withstood many years of sunshine and rain and been with us in every garden. I’d sat on this bench and cried when I broke up with my first boyfriend, and when I’d broken up with my last one. And now I was doing my best not to have it witness to any more tears. Unfortunately, the burning in my throat, and pounding in my head, not to mention the fact things had gone a bit blurry, meant that my body had its own ideas about that.

I plopped down on to the bench, dislodging one of the tears. Through my watery vision, I looked up and saw my dad strolling down the garden, Humphrey trotting beside him, looking up at him as if they were deep in conversation. Dad reached the bench, and sat down, handing me my jacket.

‘Chilly out here, love.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, pushing my arms into the sleeves. When I was done, he handed me one of his neatly folded and pressed white cotton handkerchiefs. I took it and wiped haphazardly at my eyes. Humphrey sat at our feet for a moment, watching, then trotted off to investigate the rest of the garden. ‘Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to ruin dinner.’

‘Oh, Lots, you didn’t ruin anything.’

‘Is Sally still here?’

‘Yes. Old Ollie boy got a look at that cake your mum baked this morning. I’m not