she loves, and I’ll dazzle her with my newfound knowledge.
I find her and Jemima sitting together on one of the garden benches over by the fountain. I scrape my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath.
Rip off the Band-Aid, Emma.
“Good morning, ladies,” I say brightly as I approach them. “Isn’t it a lovely day?” As I say it, the sun slips behind a dark cloud, and we’re thrown into instant gloom.
Come on, Mother Nature. Help me out here.
Jemima greets me with a warm smile. “Emma. How are you today?”
“Wonderful, thank you,” I reply. “I wanted to ask you if you’d both like to come to the opera with Sebastian and me. I can get four tickets for Friday, and I thought it’d be fun for us all to go together.”
I turn to Geraldine in anticipation, hoping she’ll be touched that I’m inviting her to something she loves. But, by the look on her face right now, the only thing that’s touching her is the wooden seat below her bottom.
“Emma, that’s so sweet of you,” Jemima coos. “Isn’t that sweet, Geraldine.”
Geraldine arches an eyebrow, her watery blue eyes trained on me. “Very sweet.”
“I’m so sorry to tell you I have a prior arrangement on Friday, so I won’t be able to come. But you can, can’t you, Mummy?”
I try not to giggle at her use of the word “Mummy.”
Mature? Me?
“Which opera is it, and where is it being performed?” Geraldine asks as she rises to her feet.
“We’ve got a choice, actually, ma’am,” I reply, pulling out the Texas manners my mom taught me. “There’s a German opera called Tannhäuser, which looks quite long and serious, even though the name made me think it was about a spray tan business.” I grin at them both, but when they don’t return it, I add, “Get it? Tan house? As in a spray tan?”
I’d hoped for at least a small acknowledgement of my joke, which I thought was at least worthy of a smile. But I’m met with a look of curiosity from Jemima, and a further tightening of the lips from Geraldine. Seriously, if this woman were to tighten those already thin lips of hers any further, they’d disappear into her face altogether, never to be seen again. She’d be the Lipless Wonder of Martinston.
Yup, I’m feeling super mature today.
“That was a little joke,” I explain, feeling increasingly awkward. And if you’ve got to explain a joke…
I press on. I’m on a mission here, after all. “In case you don’t know the opera, it’s by a guy called Richard Wagner. I’m not sure if he’s related to Robert Wagner, but if he is, he’s Hollywood royalty.”
“Richard Vah-gner,” Geraldine corrects in her superior tone, “was a 19th century German composer, my dear girl. I very much doubt he is related to anything to do with Hollywood.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense,” I reply hastily, kicking myself for mispronouncing his name. And I suggested he’s related to the bad guy on the Austin Powers movies! But seriously, why would they spell it Wagner if it’s pronounced “Vah-gner”?
It’s a trick for young players, that’s what that is.
“Anyway, the other opera we can go to is called Les Mamelles de Tirésias. It’s French, and I’m sure I’ve mispronounced it.”
“Ah, Poulenc,” Geraldine says knowingly, pronouncing the composer’s name as though she were a French native. “One of the more unusual operas.”
“Unusual good?” I chance.
“It certainly makes one think,” she replies elusively.
“Well, both operas are being put on in London, and I thought we could choose one and go together.” I look hopefully at Geraldine.
“Mummy?” Jemima enquires. “That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? You could get to know Emma a little better and enjoy some opera while you do it. You haven’t been to town for a while.”
I would kiss Jemima right now if it didn’t make me look too grateful—and too desperate.
Geraldine pauses for a moment, her lips making a brief appearance when she replies, “Thank you, Emma. I would like to go to Les Mamelles de Tirésias,” she says, and I could punch the air. Which I don’t do of course. I know such brash American behavior would go down with her about as well as a plateful of boiled Brussels sprouts would for me.
Ugh.
“I think you’ll find the opera most illuminating.”
“Okay, cool.”
“With Jemima not able to attend, did you want to invite someone in her stead?” she asks.
“Oh, uh.” I wrack my brain for an appropriate invitee. Phoebe will be too busy with the