‘I was wondering, how long are you staying, Abigail?’ Ben’s question is shot over the clatter of my gathering up the used plates. I shoot him a quick look of reproach, one I hope he sees but no one else does. He doesn’t catch it because he’s determined not to; he’s staring at Abi, not me. He’s smiling. He looks affable enough. There’s only me who would know he’s asking her to pack her bags. I get it. I know what he’s thinking – it’s been a fun weekend but tomorrow is Monday, we should get back to being normal. ‘We have a busy week ahead of us,’ he adds, as though it’s a simple observation.
Abi smiles – if she’s picked up on his hint, she doesn’t seem bothered by it. ‘Really? What’s going down?’
Ben must have checked the family calendar before we sat down to eat because he rattles off our commitments with impressive confidence. ‘It’s Imogen’s Brownie investiture.’ Abi pulls her face into a picture of awe to show she’s impressed, Immie beams back, thrilled to be centre of attention. ‘Lily has a school trip to a working farm and Mel is a parent volunteer, so is going along too.’ Abi gasps excitedly and claps her hands in glee, as though she can’t imagine anything more fun. ‘Liam needs to practise for his internship interview.’ Ben’s list obviously isn’t simply a point of information; he’s hinting she needs to get out of our hair. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I wish he’d drop it. ‘Mel has also got an extra shift to do at the shop because she needs to make up the time from Friday.’
‘OK Ben.’ He’s being rude now.
‘And I’m in the middle of a big audit at work.’ He turns to look at me, reminding me of as much, I suppose. I assumed Abi would stay for the weekend but she hasn’t made any noise about catching a train tonight or tomorrow. I suppose we do need to know her plans so that we can make our own, but I can’t stand the idea of shooing her out the house.
‘I haven’t quite decided,’ says Abi. ‘Mel, so sweetly, said I could stay as long as I needed.’
‘Of course, you’re so welcome,’ I gush. I mean this, at the same time as I know it really isn’t a helpful thing to say. I throw Ben a look that’s begging for his understanding. He relents.
‘Yes, absolutely. I’m just saying we’ve a very busy week next week. I hope you don’t think we’re rude if we’re not around too much to look after you.’
‘Not at all,’ Abi assures him with the broadest smile. It’s inscrutable. ‘I’m pretty self-sufficient. So, Liam, what is this internship?’
‘I’m hoping to work in the Houses of Parliament.’
‘Wow.’
‘But it’s really competitive.’
‘Well, you are gorgeous and principled and have the confidence to question your parents’ passive, institutionalised sexism – I’d say you’ll cut through the competition.’
‘Abi!’ I squeal, laughing as I know she’s joking. Liam reddens.
‘Just kidding.’ She turns back to Liam, ‘Maybe I could help with the interview practice,’ Abi offers.
‘Really?’ I ask.
‘I’m not saying I’m an expert but . . . ’ she laughs. ‘But my entire career is based on interviewing people. I do know how to carefully solicit particular information, even when a person doesn’t want to give it.’ She beams encouragingly at Liam; he’s looking at the table. ‘I know how to then present that information to make someone look erudite, original. I can coach you.’
Of course she’s an expert. This is great news. What an advantage. I glance at Liam to see if he hates the idea of Abigail helping but he shrugs, seemingly OK with the suggestion. I have a feeling Abi might be able to provide the zing and edge; help him stand out. I’m grateful.
‘That’s so kind,’ I gush.
‘Well that’s settled then, I’ll stay until after Liam’s interview,’ she says enthusiastically.
I daren’t look at Ben – the interview is not until the week after next. Instead I say, ‘Now who’s for pudding?’
‘Oh, me please, I can diet tomorrow,’ Abi says with a careless giggle.
Everyone, even Lily, says in unison, ‘You don’t need to diet, ever!’
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