25. My Less-Serious Side

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We were still buzzing with excitement when I eventually made my excuses and led my family away from the party. It was barely afternoon, but the buffet on offer hadn't been much of a lunch. There were a lot of people walking the streets now, shoppers and people on their way to meet up with friends. I wondered if any of them would take notice of three people dressed up in such elaborate outfits at this time of day, but I didn't really care. We were happy, and I had decided that we were going to go somewhere nice for lunch before the long drive home.

"Feels like it should be supper time," Ffrances speculated. "Long day at work, and then a theatre trip. Almost bedtime for me, I keep double checking the sky, like my body's wondering why the sun is still up."

"The MC guy said we're watching it at the same time as the execs around the world," I said, hoping that I'd understood that part of the speech correctly. "Different people, doing different jobs for Claughton. And the people who were actually involved in making this happen. Some bright spark in their head office probably thought it would make the company feel more like a family or something. Like we're all in it together."

"And then the superstars get their own premiere in a week and a half," Tess added with a giggle. "Before the rest of the world, and all the paparazzi turning out to talk about how glamorous they all are. We got in first, and nobody makes a big deal about that."

I could only nod to that. So much media work was all about what people thought, and what people knew. The facts were one of the first casualties in a good campaign, and I often wished I could go back to believing the things that people said occasionally. But that was a luxury I could only have with my family; I had learned too much to take the rest of the world at face value.

"What do you want for lunch?" I asked, as we got back to the car. "We can go anywhere, my treat. Fancy French place? There's a Russian place with a balcony that's supposed to be really good, overlooking the town centre. Take your pick. Or we–"

"You did the entertainment," Ffrances interrupted me, a finger on my lips. "I'm covering lunch. No arguments, pet. We can go somewhere around here, or a few miles out of town, but I don't want to go too far out of our way. Whatever you feel like. Trust me, I feel like I owe you now."

"I can go for anything," I shrugged. "I don't know what there is round here, but I'm sure there's one of everything. Italian place, maybe? Like, a decent, high-class one that isn't just a dozen different types of red sauce with different pasta shapes. Or..." I paused, seeing a momentary smirk on Tess's face, "or I see a smile there, and I want to know what's behind it. You got an idea to share?"

"No, just... when you said 'anything', I just imagined us going into somewhere like a cheap burger place, and everyone staring at the outfits. You got to admit, it's a funny image even if it isn't such a good idea."

I found myself laughing, and I had to agree. With these clothes, we looked like we should be spending three figures on a meal, but the mental image she had given me was just so absurd.

"Well, if you want to..."

We couldn't shake the silly mood once it had arrived. And although we weren't particularly in the mood for burgers, there were plenty of alternatives that would have been just as effective on the funny side. Ffrances said she could think of somewhere perfect, where they had apparently come for a friend's hen night when she was last working around here. We left the car where it was and walked down the high street, before we found a door with peeling green paint, beside a giant hand-painted sign that declared it to be the entrance to McRory's Bar and Steak Pit.

It was everything we could have hoped for. The staff were polite and respectful, and their curiosity was sated as soon as they discovered that we wanted food and had money. The other patrons regarded us with curiosity, but it seemed to be the kind of place where everybody would try hard to look disinterested in other people's business. We saw plenty of people studiously paying no attention, while the few kids there with their grandparents gave gleeful smiles. I decided that I was hungry, and ordered a mixed grill. Ffrances satisfied herself with a garlic bread; which probably made sense given that her body clock must have been running close to midnight at that point. And Tess dithered over the huge faux-chalkboard menu printed on the walls for several minutes before settling on a rib platter.

The food, when it came, was exactly what the decor of the place had led us to expect: classic, healthy food. If by 'healthy' you meant it contained enough nutrients to keep a foundry worker going through a double shift, and probably no trace of artificial additives in a recipe that could have been popular for centuries.

Tess took a bathroom break in the middle of the meal, and was away long enough that I guessed she was talking to her friends on her phone. Then I realised that I hadn't even asked about her previous plans. She might have been going to spend the day with some of her friends from school, and in that case I didn't want to stop her catching up with them later.

"Think she's okay?" Ffrances asked.

"In what way?"

"She seems like she's perpetually worrying about something. A mound of little worries she can't get over, but small enough that they all vanish from her mind when she's really caught up in something. The movie was good for her, but it didn't last. As soon as we got back to the car, she was starting to get nervous. I wish she'd open up and ask for help."

"Will you help her if she does?"

"If I can. If it's not something she needs professional advice on. And speaking of that... you got those clothes out of the spare room for her, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, ask her later if she wants to keep them in her closet. I'm pretty sure she'll say no. But leave putting them away until I'm not asleep, if that's okay? You know, you said about that photo?" I nodded, and that was all she needed to continue: "Well, the best time for me to find it would be when I've got a reason to be going through all the boxes in the spare room. Putting away these fancy dresses that she won't have an excuse to wear for six months seems like a good excuse. Seems more natural, and it'll be easier for her to say what she really feels if it feels like it's developed naturally out of an event she already enjoyed."

"Right," I nodded. "But I can tell how tired you are. You need to get to sleep soon. So if she doesn't want to hang on to them I'll hang them outside her room or something, to sort out later. Then it's down to you when we deal with it. And... my love?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Thank you. I really appreciate that you can put so much thought into helping her to find what she wants. And... it's not entirely altruistic. I can't deny, I love the idea of us being able to care for her like a real little, being exactly the guardians she needs, and making sure everything is perfect for her. I've wanted to meet a little for so long, and I never would have imagined it could turn out like this."

I really meant it, every word.

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