Page 35 of Always, in December

Chloe, unhelpfully, rolled her eyes, helping herself to a third helping of rice – unlike the two guests, their mum had not thought to offer either of her own children extra helpings. Max noticed the way Liam shifted slightly as Chloe reached across the table, making sure that her arm did not brush his, and couldn’t help the little smirk that crossed his face. The two of them had been nothing other than polite to each other – Chloe, he knew, was only behaving so because of their parents’ presence, rather than it being her innate nature, like Liam’s – and had barely said anything directly to each other over dinner unless it was part of a group conversation. But Max had seen the way Liam kept sneaking glances at her, the way Chloe was almost studiously ignoring those glances. Not that he was one to talk. Just as he was thinking it, Erin shifted position and, for the third time that evening, he felt her knee, clad in those skinny jeans that showed off her epic legs, brush against his under the table. It was brief enough that it could, theoretically, be accidental, and it was certainly something that would go unnoticed by anyone else at the table. But he was sure, by the subtle yet firm pressure, that it was a deliberate move on her part to let him know that while she might be talking to his mother, her attention was on him. Max picked up his drink – non-alcoholic, sadly – and concentrated intently on taking a sip.

‘What?’ his mother asked, in a tone of voice that reminded Max almost comically of Chloe. He might have got his mum’s looks, but Chloe had her personality, through and through, though each of them refused to see it in one another.

His dad cleared his throat, his eyes – brown like Chloe’s, though not quite as dark – on the side of his mum’s powdered face, and he gave her hand another little squeeze. His mum pretended not to notice.

‘Economy is awful these days,’ she continued, ‘the food especially, and I wouldn’t wish it on even Mrs Price on the floor below.’ She pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing. ‘Well, maybe her. She had the cheek the other day to ask if our cleaner also did our cooking, and I just know it was a jibe, because she knows full well that we can’t afford both—’

‘We wouldn’t want a cook anyway,’ Max’s dad butted in. ‘That would mean we’d miss out on your cooking.’ He twinkled at his wife, and Max noticed the way his mother tried – and clearly failed – to hide a smile.

‘Hear, hear!’ Liam said, in his best impression of a British accent.

‘Oh Liam, you’re such a sweetie.’ She gave him a warm smile, her eyes softening as if she was looking at her firstborn. She patted her dark auburn hair, as if checking the curls she’d had put in yesterday were still in place. Like her eyes, Max had got the hair too, though not the curls, given they were artificial, and he had to admit he was grateful for that – he wasn’t sure he could have pulled off little ringlets. His was a darker version of hers, too, only really truly auburn in the sun.

Liam’s eyes sparkled back, and he raised his glass of Pinot Grigio in a toast to Max’s mother. Chloe gave Liam a withering look, which he either didn’t notice or chose to ignore, and when she saw Max looking, she mimed gagging into her own wine. Their dad immediately gave Chloe a stern look out of eyes that were eerily similar to hers, and Chloe turned the action into a hacking cough, thumping her chest. Max tried not to laugh.

Luckily, their mum didn’t notice Chloe because she was beaming between Liam and Erin, who said, ‘Agreed,’ with a little smile. Erin took a sip of her own wine, though Max could see her trying to stifle a yawn. She looked knackered – though a polished version of knackered, carefully applied cosmetics blended to cover the dark circles and brighten the pale face he’d seen at the airport, the blue blouse she’d changed into clean and crisp after showering and doing something with her blonde hair to make it more . . . bushy. Though he was pretty sure that wasn’t the word she’d use. He knew she must be desperate to get to bed, but wouldn’t until she deemed it appropriate to leave the table.

Across the table, Chloe put her knife and fork together, sitting back and patting her stomach. ‘Is there any pudding?’

Their mum frowned. ‘You’ve just eaten enough for three people.’

Chloe smiled sweetly. ‘But your cooking’s just so good, Mum. I barely have time to cook when I’m working, you must remember what it’s like, in the early days . . .’ She gave their mother a baleful look, and Max saw his mum’s expression soften despite herself.

‘Alright, but you can come and help me serve it.’ Together, Chloe and his mum cleared the table, taking everything to the semi-closed-off kitchen behind them. Chloe shot Max a wink as she walked past. When Max looked back across the table, he noticed Liam’s gaze trailing his little sister. Max cleared his throat loudly, and Liam jumped, then shot him a guilty look.

Erin turned to his dad, slipping one slim leg over the other underneath the table. Despite the jet lag, she really did look good, Max had to give her that. ‘So, Roger, how’s retirement suiting you?’

Given that Erin was already engaging his dad in conversation about life in New York and how he was finding living in America for the first time, Max leaned in to Liam. ‘She’ll eat you alive, you know.’

Liam swirled his wine in his glass and gave Max an all-too-innocent look. ‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.’

Max raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that so?’

Liam laid a hand across his heart dramatically. ‘Don’t you worry, you know she’s not really my type.’ And it was true – Liam’s type tended towards the Erins of the world, long-limbed and sophisticated. Still, he was pretty sure that, if Chloe had decided she was interested, then the man didn’t stand a chance.

Max let it drop for the time being, and sat back against the grey chair that was sort of an armchair without arms. It matched the rest of the apartment, which was mainly white and grey and clearly designed to make the place look bigger than it was. He let his eyes trail around the place: the wooden floors, the corner sofa, the fucking massive windows all around the living room. It was a bit uniform for him, but he could see why his parents liked it here. Though he hadn’t been able to quite believe it when they’d told him they were moving to the Upper East Side, of all places – one of the places known across the world for being home to the posh people of New York. He’d known their childhood home had gone for more than they’d thought it would when they’d sold up a few years ago, but still. Not that he knew exactly how much this place cost – but given his profession, he could guess. A three-bedroom apartment in this kind of high-rise fancy building was not cheap. Plus, you got the views across the city here, though currently all you could see were the lights of the other buildings and streets below. The place even had a fancy-arse doorman who greeted Max by name every time he saw him. It made him wonder whether his mother was really doing the hospital consultancy work ‘to keep busy’ as she claimed, or if they actually just needed the money.

When his mum and Chloe reappeared holding homemade apple pie and the dessert plates respectively, Max noted how Liam suddenly became ever-so-interested in the discussion Erin and his dad were having about the latest Broadway shows. Max let out a soft snort, and Erin briefly flicked a glance at him, eyes questioning. He only shook his head.

After the apple pie was mostly eaten – Erin eating half of her piece in a clear effort not to offend – Liam announced that he had to go, because they needed to be in the office early tomorrow ahead of a big pitch. Managing to get around Max’s mum’s protests, Liam said his goodbyes, kissing his mum and Erin on the cheek, shaking his dad’s hand, and giving Max a friendly pat on the shoulder. He turned to Chloe last, who was leaning back against her chair, having only got to her feet with clear reluctance because everyone else had. She looked up at him with measured eyes, and he ran a hand across the back of his neck. Honestly, Max felt sorry for the guy – the whole family and Erin were watching the two of them with interest, no sign of embarrassment for doing so. Not sorry enough to distract anyone though.

‘Well, it was nice to see you again, Chloe,’ Liam said, all airs and graces. Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw his mum give a little nod of approval – politeness went far in her book.

Chloe gave a smile that could in no way be considered sweet. ‘You too.’ And it was Chloe who straightened and stretched up, giving Liam’s cheek a swift kiss, resting one of her hands on his forearm as if to stabilise herself. She pulled back, cocked her head. ‘Maybe I’ll see you again while I’m here.’

Liam cleared his throat. ‘Right. Yeah, maybe.’ He gave Max a slightly wide-eyed look at that, and Max only nodded and shrugged, as if to say I told you so.

The moment Liam was out the door, Erin took the opportunity before everyone could sit down again. ‘I’m so sorry, but I think I’m going to have to call it a night, otherwise I’ll be rotten company tomorrow.’ She smiled at everyone, and Max’s dad and mum both shook their heads as if even the thought of Erin being rotten company was unthinkable. Chloe just sat down and dug into a second piece of apple pie. ‘Besides,’ Erin continued, ‘I don’t want to oversleep and miss out on anything – I want to make the most of the weekend as it’s my first time in New York.’

Another headshake from his mother, her tight little curls twirling with the movement. ‘That’s a crying shame.’ She shot Max a little frown and Max resisted the urge to sigh.

Erin gave Max’s shoulder a little squeeze before she left the table. Her touch lingered after she moved on, making it clear to him that he was going to have to make some sort of decision sooner or later, and from the expressions on their faces, the action was one which did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family.

When his mum started to clear the table – party officially over now the guests of honour had left – Max and Chloe jumped in to help, unable to ignore years of ingrained habit. His mum grinned at his dad. ‘Trained them well, didn’t we?’

His dad stretched back in his seat. ‘I take all the credit,’ he said lazily.

His mum’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that so?’ When his dad only grinned, his mum elbowed him on the shoulder as she walked by, in a way that made Max smile a little. It was nice that some things, at least, remained constant.