‘Having a baby at your age…’ She sensed rather than saw Hannah’s look of warning. ‘Not that you’re old, obviously.’
Her mother managed a wan smile at the retrieval. ‘Always the soul of tact, Evie.’
Eve watched as Hannah and her mum exchanged a look. She didn’t resent the rapport that her mum and her friend had but, though she rarely acknowledged it, there were occasions when she did envy it. Eve was her daughter but Hannah was a kindred spirit.
‘I just meant…’ She paused and thought, What did you mean? ‘Couldn’t it be dangerous…for you, and the baby?’ But not for Charlie Latimer. Eve felt the anger and resentment she had always felt towards the man deepen so that they lay like an icy block behind her breastbone.
‘Loads of women in their forties have babies these days, Evie.’ Hannah proceeded to tick off a list of well-known celebrities Sarah’s age and older who had given birth recently.
‘And I’ll have a lot more support than I did last time around; your father has been marvellous, Hannah.’
Too little too late, Eve thought, before the guilt kicked in; it always did when she thought about all the things her mum had given up to be a single parent. She finally deserved some happiness but was she likely to find it with Charlie Latimer…?
Eve clenched her jaw. No, her mum deserved more—she deserved better after all the sacrifices she had made.
Wanting to give her mum the things she deserved had been behind Eve’s choice to reject the prestigious university scholarship she’d been offered and instead start her own firm. It hadn’t been easy. All the banks had turned the inexperienced eighteen-year-old away and in the end it had been a charitable trust set up to promote youth enterprise that had been convinced by her business plan and the rest, as they said, was history. Nowadays she was held up as one of the trust’s success stories, and regularly mentored young aspiring entrepreneurs and helped raise funds.
It had been a year ago that Eve had been able to go to her mother and triumphantly tell her she didn’t need to work for Charles Latimer, and that she, Eve, was able to support her while she did what she wanted: a university course, open her own restaurant…anything.
Good plan with one problem. It turned out her mum was already doing what she wanted: she wanted to waste her talents, to slave away for a man like Charles Latimer. Eve had been angry, hurt and frustrated. She knew that a distance had formed between them since that day. She had let it form.
Sarah’s green eyes filled again as she scanned her daughter’s face and asked anxiously, ‘You’re all right with this, aren’t you, Eve?’
‘I’m really happy for you, Mum,’ she said quietly, thinking, If that man hurts you I’ll make him wish he had never been born.
Maybe she was a better actress than she thought, or maybe her mum just wanted to believe the lie, but either way Sarah visibly relaxed.
CHAPTER THREE
THOUGH THE LAWN had been rigged out with a positive village of canvas to house the reception, the ceremony itself was being held in the timbered great hall of Brent Manor, Charles’s country estate. The guests, entertained by a string quartet, were seated in semi-circular rows around a central aisle and the dramatic staircase was lit up to give everyone a good view of the bridal party as they made their big entrance.
The warm-up act was followed by a well-known soprano, who belted out a couple of numbers that reduced some people to tears. For Draco it felt like a visit to the cinema when the trailers went on for so long you forgot what you’d actually come to see.