Mara's party dress had a button which Theo could fasten more easily than she could admit needing him to.
She stood with her back toward him, holding her hair out of the way. His fingers brushed the base of her neck. The dress was a warm yellow, darker in its folds, bare across her shoulders. She had chosen it before they'd ended the engagement, for the evening after the white dress came off. The wedding dress remained in Bristol, its bag closed in the wardrobe.
“Done,” he said.
She let her hair fall and turned. He had changed into the blue shirt again, sleeves folded once at the wrists. She looked at him in the bedroom which was neither of their bedrooms and wondered how anyone managed to look forward to an evening while already missing it.
“You look good,” she said.
“So do you.”
They smiled, too tired for a joke about buses. She put on her earrings while he went to find his shoes. When she came into the sitting room he was bending over the blue holdall, looking for something.
“Sewing kit,” he explained. “My mother's strap is making an argument for another pin.”
“You're taking it?”
“It weighs less than the consequences of not taking it.”
He slipped the little packet into his trouser pocket. She watched him straighten, then picked up her own bag. The lipstick she'd bought for this night lay beside the pen from their first pub quiz. She put both in, although the pen had no reason to attend a party.
They walked out together.
The terrace was already filling. Guests who had spent the week in swimwear had transformed themselves into people Mara remembered from other evenings: a colleague in a silk dress, a cousin with his hair carefully combed, a friend she'd known since her twenties wearing earrings big enough to reorganize a conversation. New arrivals found old faces. People embraced with bags between them and drinks held high.
Robin stood near the flowers, photographing a group who were trying to fit one more person into the middle without moving the table. He caught Mara's eye and lifted a hand. She waved, then stopped because Leah was coming toward her.
Her sister wore green. Daniel was just behind, straightening a cuff while looking at his wife's back. Mara put her bag down on the nearest chair and held out both arms.
“You look wonderful,” she said.
“Thank you.”
Leah hugged her, warm and solid, and the dress was smooth beneath Mara's hands. She had not borrowed it. She had bought it for a wedding and brought it to a party, and she still looked pleased to be in it.
“How are you?” Leah asked quietly.
Mara drew back just enough to look at her.
“We've talked.”
“All right.”
“We're going home tomorrow.”
Leah glanced at Theo, who stood beside Daniel now. Mara saw her take in his face, then return to hers without relief or alarm being offered as the correct response.
“Shall I get you a drink?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
Her sister kissed her cheek and went. Daniel put an arm around Mara's shoulders, squeezed and said, “Excellent choice of party.”
“Wait until you've been fed.”
“I have confidence.”
He followed Leah. Mara watched them meet at the bar, his hand finding the small of her back. Then Owen arrived with Nina and a story about having ironed the wrong shirt. Mara turned to listen.
There were too many hellos to keep her thoughts arranged. A work friend asked about the market; a cousin wanted to know where Bill was; somebody admired her shoes and bent down to inspect them with more care than she had ever given the pair. A tray came past, and Mara took something crisp and warm, eating it while a guest attempted to explain how delighted he was to be there without implying anything about why.
“I'm delighted you're hungry,” she said.
He laughed with relief and accepted two pieces from the tray.
Theo was across the terrace talking to Kit. Mara saw him smile, one hand in his pocket, then look for her. When their eyes met he raised his eyebrows at the food in her hand. She nodded with conviction. He accepted something from another tray.
The flowers were beautiful in the changing light. So were the tables, the sea beyond the wall, even the absurd letters now glowing fully. The hired word stood beneath a row of small lights, large enough to be seen by anybody who had failed to recognize the evening's principal complication.
Bill came toward it, examined the O and shook his head.
“Too low,” he told Mara.
“A blessing.”
“I'd have to crouch.”
“You can stand beside it. A less interactive experience.”
Patrick appeared at Bill's shoulder wearing trousers at last. Mara congratulated him on bringing his legs into the present. He said they hadn't enjoyed the journey.
She was laughing when Sue arrived.
The evening light caught the folds of Sue's blue dress. The gold shoes caught it with every step. Janette came beside her, telling a story which Sue was listening to without much expression. When she saw Mara, she stopped.
Mara went to meet her.
“You look lovely,” Sue said.
“So do you.”
They kissed awkwardly, both trying not to mark the other's face. Sue touched the strap of Mara's dress, admiring the fabric, then let it go.
“Good color,” she said.
“I nearly chose blue.”
Sue looked down at herself. “We'd have had to arrange separate photographs.”
Mara smiled. Her throat tightened unexpectedly, and she touched Sue's arm.
“Theo helped with the button,” Mara said.
“He's very useful when he applies himself.”
“I noticed.”
Sue's face altered for a moment. Mara wished she hadn't said it, then wished she could stop reviewing every warm thing which left her mouth. Janette asked where the drinks were, and Sue turned to show her.
Leah returned carrying glasses. Mara accepted hers and stood with her sister while Daniel investigated the next tray.
“He's on a chair,” Leah said, nodding toward the band.
“That's the service we've paid for.”
“Excellent. I like to know what I can expect.”
The saxophonist had come down again by the time Theo crossed the terrace toward Mara. He held his drink low, looked at her and then at the guests. She knew before he spoke that it was time.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
Leah took Mara's glass. Theo left his on a table and went to the band. He spoke to the singer, who handed him a microphone, pointed to the switch and moved back toward the other musicians. No announcement introduced them. Theo switched it on, and the first small noise made three guests turn in expectation of a song.
Mara stood beside him. She could feel the attention move toward them across the terrace, conversation thinning, a glass set down too loudly in the silence.
“Hello,” Theo said. “We're very glad you've come.”
Somebody at the back called that they were glad too. A few people laughed. Mara looked at Theo's hand around the microphone, the thumb holding too tightly against the side.
“We want to say one thing before the music,” he continued. “Mara and I aren't getting back together. We've had a really lovely week. That part is true too.”
He glanced at her. She put her hand on his arm and looked out at their guests.
“We wanted this evening,” she said. “We're glad we're having it with you.”
Theo held the microphone closer so nobody missed her. There was a moment in which Mara could see all the reactions arriving independently: Leah's still face, a friend's affectionate wince, Janette looking toward Sue, Owen taking a breath as though he might offer something and deciding not to.
“So,” Theo said, “please eat. Drink. Dance very badly if you can. We've made arrangements for that.”
Mara looked toward the band. The singer grinned. Somebody laughed, and the sound gave the terrace back its ordinary size.
Theo switched off the microphone. A few guests clapped, others reached for their drinks, and one man asked the person next to him whether the food had already started.
Mara took the microphone from Theo and gave it back to the singer. He thanked her, asked whether they wanted another few minutes before the first set, and she said yes. The choice felt wonderfully minor.
When she turned back, Theo was looking at the sea beyond the wall. She put her hand against his back. He took a breath, then looked at her.
“That was enough?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Leah brought their drinks. Kit arrived with a plate he had filled before anyone decided whether that was yet permitted. He held it toward them.
“This is exceptional,” he said, pointing to something Mara couldn't identify beneath a piece of bread.
Theo took a fork from the plate and tried it. Mara watched his face brighten, genuinely, and laughed because she'd been waiting for it without knowing.
“I chose that,” she told Kit.
“Excellent work.”
“Months ago. In a state of great optimism.”
“Thoroughly justified.”
She took the fork from Theo. The food was still warm. Around them, chairs moved, old friends found places to sit, and Sue accepted a glass from Bill.
The band began. Mara knew the song this time. She felt its first proper beat through the boards beneath her feet, looked at Theo and found him smiling at her with the whole evening left.