“Oh. OK. Who is it?”
“Someone called Robin,” says Mum. “Hello, Tom, love!”
“Robin?” I frown puzzledly as I walk back toward the house. “Robin who?”
I’m not sure I know any Robins. Apart from Robin Anderson who used to work for Investment Monthly, but I hardly knew him, really—
“I didn’t catch the surname, I’m afraid,” says Mum. “But she seems very nice. She said she was calling from New York…”
Robyn?
I can’t move. I’m pinioned with horror to the patio steps.
Robyn is on the phone… here?
This is all wrong. Robyn doesn’t belong in this world, she belongs in New York. This is like when people go back in time and mess up World War II.
“Is she a friend?” Mum’s saying innocently. “We’ve just had a nice little chat about the wedding…”
The ground wobbles beneath me.
“What… what did she say?” I manage.
“Nothing in particular!” Mum stares at me in surprise. “She asked me what color I was going to wear… and she kept saying something odd about violinists. You don’t want violinists at the wedding, do you, love?”
“Of course not!” My voice rises shrilly. “What would I want violinists for?”
“Becky, darling, are you all right?” Mum peers at me. “I’ll tell her you’ll call back, shall I?”
“No! Don’t talk to her again! I mean… it’s fine. I’ll take it.”
I hurry into the house, heart thumping. What am I going to say? Should I tell her I’ve changed my mind?
As I pick up the phone, I see that Mum’s followed me inside. Oh God. How am I going to manage this?
“Robyn, hi!” I attempt a natural tone. “How are you?”
OK. I’ll just get her off the phone, as quickly as possible.
“Hi! Becky! I’m so glad I got a chance to speak with your mother!” says Robyn. “She seems a lovely lady. I’m so looking forward to meeting her!”
“Me too,” I say as heartily as I can. “I can’t wait for you to… get together.”
“Although I was surprised she didn’t know about the string orchestra. Tut tut! You really should keep your mom up-to-date, Becky!”
“I know,” I say after a pause. “I’ve just been quite busy…”
“I can understand that,” says Robyn sympathetically. “Why don’t I send her an information package? It would be so easy to FedEx it over. Then she’ll see the whole thing in front of her eyes! If you give me the address—”
“No!” I cry before I can stop myself. “I mean… don’t worry. I’ll pass everything on. Really. Don’t… send anything. Nothing at all.”
“Not even a few menu cards? I’m sure she’d love to see those!”
“No! Nothing!”
My hand is tight around the receiver and my face is sweating. I don’t even dare look at Mum.
“Well, OK!” says Robyn at last. “You’re the boss! Now, I’ve spoken to Sheldon Lloyd about the table arrangements…”
As she babbles on, I dart a glance at Mum, who is about three feet away from me. Surely she can hear the phone from there? Surely she just heard the word Plaza? Surely she just caught wedding and ballroom?
“Right,” I say, without taking in anything that Robyn’s saying, “That all sounds fine.” I twist the cord around my fingers. “But… but listen, Robyn. The thing is, I’ve come home to get away from it all. So could you possibly not phone me here anymore?”
“You don’t want to be updated?” says Robyn in surprise.
“No. That’s fine. You just… do your thing, and I’ll catch up when I get back next week.”
“No problem. I understand. You need time out! Becky, I promise, unless it’s an emergency, I’ll leave you alone. You have a lovely break now!”
“Thanks. I will. Bye, Robyn.”
I put the phone down, shaky with relief. Thank God she’s gone.
But I don’t feel safe. Robyn’s got the number here now. She could phone at any time. I mean, what counts as an emergency in wedding planning? Probably anything. Probably a misplaced rose petal. She only has to say one wrong word to Mum, and both of them will realize what’s been going on. Mum will immediately realize why I came back here, what I was trying to say.
She’d be so hurt. I can’t allow that to happen.
OK, I have two options. Number one: get Mum and Dad to move house immediately. Number two…
“Listen, Mum,” I say, turning round. “That woman Robyn. She’s…”
“Yes?”
“She’s… deranged.”
“Deranged?” Mum stares at me. “What do you mean, love?”
“She… she’s in love with Luke!”
“Oh my goodness!”
“Yes, and she’s got this weird delusion that she’s going to marry him.”
“Marry him?” Mum gapes at me.
“Yes! At the Plaza Hotel! Apparently she even tried to… um… book it. Under my name!”
My fingers are twisting into complicated knots. I must be crazy. Mum’ll never fall for this. Never. Not in a million—
“You know, that doesn’t surprise me!” says Mum. “I could tell there was something a bit odd about her straight away. All this nonsense about violins! And she seemed obsessed by what color I was going to wear—”