The Stepmothers’ Support Group. Sam Baker

be great,’ Ian had promised when he’d called from Cornwall earlier in the week to check her train times. ‘The weather’s amazing and it’s meant to hold. So Ma thought it might be fun to have a barbecue in the garden, Saturday lunchtime. It’s Hannah’s birthday, so it’s her party really. My parents will be there, obviously. My brother, his wife and kids are coming over from their place in Devon. There’s a cousin or two, nothing too terrifying. Oh, and a couple of neighbours.’

      Safety in numbers, that was what he’d said. Hiding in plain sight. There’d be so much going on it would take the focus off her, off them. Far from being the main event, she’d be just another guest on a lazy summer’s afternoon. And that had made sense to Eve. At the time. But that was before engineering works on the line from Paddington had added ninety minutes to her journey and she’d felt obliged to call Ian with an offer of making her own way from the station. How hard could it be, after all?

      Smoothing down her top, she followed the noise.

      An open door to her right led into a large sitting room that stretched from front to back. Its parquet floors were barely visible beneath a chaos of threadbare Persian rugs, and mismatched chairs and sofas covered with cushions and throws. The effect should have been a fight in a jumble sale, instead it was relaxed and cosy.

      At the far end, French doors spilled out onto a terrace and lawns that led across to the fields beyond the garden’s limits. This was some holiday home, bigger by far than her own parents’ only home. A fold-out table inside the doors was laden with presents, some opened, some still neatly wrapped, and in the middle, in pride of place, stood a large birthday cake iced in pink with a large, garish number thirteen, marked in candles. To Eve’s eye, the pastel icing bore Sophie’s unmistakable hallmark.

      Propping her card against a pile of unopened presents, Eve moved to the French doors. The lawn was packed. A few friends? She’d hate to be around when Ian’s parents organized a large party. Where the terrace met the grass she could see Ian, standing by the large brick barbecue, talking to a stockier man wearing a navy and white striped apron. At first glance he looked nothing like Ian, but on closer inspection his nose gave the relationship away. Eve guessed she was looking at Ian’s younger brother, Rob. The ‘boys’ were obviously on barbecue duty. Ian’s eyes found her and his face broke into a grin.

      ‘Eve!’ he called. ‘You made it! Over here!’

      A dozen heads swivelled, Meerkat-like, faces full of illsuppressed curiosity. Smiling nervously, Eve looked for the quickest route from where she stood to Ian’s side. Not that she expected this to afford her much protection. As she did so a small whirlwind swirled through the tanned legs and deck shoes of a group that stood drinking Pimm’s on the terrace.

      ‘Eeeve!’ shouted Alfie, hurling himself at her, another small boy in tow. ‘Did you bring me a present?’ Although they had now spent several Saturday lunchtimes together with no further gifts forthcoming, this was still his preferred opening gambit.

      Resisting the urge to hug him, Eve bent down to ruffle his hair instead.

      ‘Hello Alfie, what you up to?’

      ‘Winning!’ He grinned and turned to smack a black Power Ranger against the other boy’s toy. Eve wondered if anyone had ever explained the concept of playing nicely to Alfie.

      Someone else obviously felt the same way.

      ‘Alfie, behave. Now go and tell Daddy we need him over here.’

      The woman who spoke was tall, slim and elegant in a beige cotton skirt and white short-sleeved blouse and cream sandals. Around seventy, she had the stature and aura of someone much younger, someone used to people noticing her. Someone like Caroline, had Caroline lived to see her eighth decade.

      ‘But Graneee…’

      ‘Alfie,’ the woman’s voice was gentle but firm, ‘go and fetch Daddy for me, there’s a good boy. And take Danny with you.’

      ‘How do you do?’ The woman held out her hand with a smile. ‘I’m Elaine, Ian’s mother.’

      ‘I’m Eve,’ said Eve, unnecessarily. ‘It’s nice to meet you. I’m so sorry I’m late. The train…’

      The woman waved her apology away.

      As she did so, Eve couldn’t help noticing that Ian’s mother took in every particular of Eve’s appearance.

      ‘I’m delighted to meet you, dear. You’re something of a hit with my grandson, I gather. And my son, of course, but I imagine that goes without saying.’

      No, thought Eve. She would never tire of hearing it. Instead she smiled with relief. ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ she said. ‘They’re something of a hit with me too.’

      ‘Eve…you’ve obviously met my mother.’ Eve felt a warm arm slide around her waist and resisted the temptation to sink gratefully into Ian.

      ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘You look like you need a drink…Ma, another Pimm’s?’

      Ian’s mother waved her half-full glass and shook her head. ‘Not for me dear. I’d better go and see what your brother is burning on the barbecue.’

      ‘How was that?’ asked Ian, leading her by the hand to a white-clothed table that had been set up at the side of the terrace with metal buckets full of iced beer and bowls of punch. ‘Survive the first encounter?’

      Eve took an indecently large gulp of Pimm’s and nodded. ‘So far so good,’ she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. She glanced behind her. ‘One down…Ooh, about twenty total strangers to go.’

      ‘You don’t have anything to worry about,’ he said. ‘Everyone here wants me to be happy. And you make me happy.’

      A wave of pleasure flooded through her.

      He leant forward and, for a split second, she thought he was going to kiss her full on the lips in front of his entire family, but his mouth slid sideways and he nuzzled her cheek before pulling back, just as Sophie appeared at his side and wrapped her arms around his middle. ‘Daddy,’ she said.

      ‘Have you said hello to Eve yet?’

      Sophie shook her head and her pink braided topknot bobbed. ‘Hello Eve,’ she said. ‘Did you see the cake I made for Hannah?’

      Ian laughed. ‘I think Granny might have helped.’

      ‘Excellent icing,’ Eve said.

      Sophie glowed. ‘That bit was mine.’

      ‘Definitely the best bit,’ Eve agreed. ‘Much too good to eat.’

      Ian choked on his beer and whispered, ‘Nice try, but you don’t get out of it that easily.’

      Half an hour later Eve had completed a circuit of the entire garden, been appraised and assessed by twenty pairs of eyes and shaken as many hands. Other than Ian’s immediate family—his brother Rob, Jill, his wife, and their children Danny and Ella—she remembered not a single name.

      Rob had given Eve a hug, kissed her on the cheek and said he was glad—really glad—to meet her finally. (He was so obviously genuine that Eve was embarrassed to find herself almost reduced to tears.) Jill, on the other hand, eyed Eve with unbridled curiosity. Not unfriendly, but not friendly either. If looks could talk, hers would say: Rebound! After all, how could Eve—all wild hair and flushed face, freckles leaping out at the first hint of sun—compete with the cool elegance of Caroline?

      But there was no competition. Already Eve could see that to compete with Caroline was to lose before she began. What Ian liked, Eve was beginning to understand now she’d met his family, was that she bore no resemblance to Caro, or to any of the other women in his life, whatsoever. A tall, blonde mother, a tall blonde sister-in-law, and the ghost of his tall blonde late wife. Whereas she…

      Give yourself a break, Eve thought.