Then She Was Gone - Lisa Jewell Page 0,34

she says again. “You look incredible. You look . . .”

She has to turn then, turn and force half her fist into her mouth. She realizes what she has done. She has dressed this child up as her dead daughter. And the result is unnerving.

“You look lovely,” she manages, her voice slightly tremulous. “But if you don’t feel comfortable in it, that’s fine. Let’s go back to John Lewis. We’ll get you that dress. Come on . . .”

But Poppy does not acknowledge Laurel’s suggestion. She stands and stares at herself in the mirror. She turns slightly, from side to side. She runs her hands down the fabric of the leggings, plays with the sleeves of the shirt. She strikes a pose, and then another one. “Actually,” she says. “I like this. Can I have it?”

Laurel blinks. “Yes. Of course you can. If you’re sure?”

“I’m totally sure,” she says. “I want to be different. It will be fun.”

“Yes,” says Laurel. “It will be.”

“Maybe you could be different, too?”

“Different? In what way?”

“You always wear gray and black. All your clothes look like uniforms. Maybe we should find you something swishy.”

“Swishy?”

“Yes. Or colorful. Something with lace and flowers. Something pretty.”

Laurel smiles. “I was just thinking the same thing myself.”

22

On Friday evening Laurel drives to Hanna’s flat, from where they will get an Uber together to the restaurant in Islington.

“Wow,” says Hanna upon opening her front door. “Mum, you look gorgeous.”

Laurel swishes the skirt of her new dress. It’s black with an Oriental print of birds and flowers. It has a halter neck, buttons down the front, and is made of silk. “Thank you!” she says. “Ellie helped me choose it.”

An echoing silence spreads between them.

“Oh,” says Laurel. “Did I just say Ellie?”

“Yes, you did.”

“I meant Poppy. Obviously. Sorry. All this shopping with young girls must be messing with my time lines.”

“Must be,” said Hanna.

“And you look lovely, too,” Laurel says, trying to leave her faux pas as far behind her as possible. “Have you had your hair done?”

“Yes, I had a cut and blow-dry on Wednesday.”

For your big romantic night out with T, no doubt, Laurel thinks but does not say. “Very nice. I like it that length.”

They sit in a companionable silence in the back of the minicab. It has always been thus with Hanna. She rarely feels the need to converse. It’s taken Laurel a long time to lose her conviction that this is a symptom of her own failings as a mother.

Outside the restaurant Laurel breathes in hard. They’re two minutes early and she has no idea of what lies inside, of who might be sitting at that table. It could be any number of awkward combinations of people, the most excruciating of which would be Paul, Bonny, Floyd, and Poppy. Her skin crawls at the very thought of it and she wishes she’d thought to meet Floyd elsewhere first.

But as they are led across the restaurant toward their table in a glass room at the back, she sees that only Floyd and Poppy are seated and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Floyd stands to greet them both. He looks incredibly attractive tonight. He is wearing a fitted ink-blue suit with a slim black tie and his salt and pepper hair is swept back off his forehead with some kind of product. And Poppy looks refreshingly normal in her new checked shirt worn over a fitted jersey dress with black leather lace-up boots. They look just right, thinks Laurel; they look like us.

“How incredibly good to meet you,” says Floyd, his hand out to Hanna, his eyes bright with genuine pleasure.

Hanna gives him her hand. “You too,” she says.

Then Poppy follows suit. “You’re so pretty,” she says. “I’m so happy to meet you.”

Hanna flushes slightly at the bluntly delivered compliment and mumbles something under her breath that Laurel can’t hear.

They take their seats and then all get to their feet again when Paul, Bonny, Jake, and Blue arrive. Laurel turns her hands into fists and plasters a facsimile of a smile onto her face. She’s been told by both her children not to worry, that Bonny is a nice person, that she’ll like her, that she’s sweet, but still, it’s a huge moment and magnified tenfold by the presence of her own boyfriend and the impending introductions that that will involve; for a brief moment Laurel feels as though she is going to turn liquid and pool to the floor.

But other people save her from herself. Bonny heads straight