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The alarm went off at 6.00am, as it always did. Petunia groaned and reached out to turn it off. Vernon turned around with a grunt and went back to sleep—just as he always did. "Guess I'll be waking you up again. Nothing new there," Petunia murmured as she pulled the lavender scented cover away from her and got out of bed.
She walked into Dudley's room and peeked into his cot. He was still fast asleep. Just like his daddy, Petunia thought as she stroked his blond hair. Her smile disappeared when the six-month-old coughed loudly but didn't wake.
"That's a nasty cough, Dudders," Petunia whispered. "Looks like I'll have to take you back to that idiot doctor of ours. I'll make an appointment as soon as the surgery opens."
She sneaked out, letting the men in her life have an extra hour while she had a shower. When Vernon was in a deep sleep, not even an aeroplane crashing next to their house would be enough to wake him. Like father, like son.
She picked out her favourite dress and put it on. It was a floral cotton sundress that she'd bought recently. It was perfect. Even her friend and neighbour, Davina, wouldn't be able to find fault with it. When she was dressed, she applied her perfume. The aromatic scent of Chanel filled the air, making Petunia feel lighter—happier.
Vernon's alarm went off at seven, but he ignored it and rolled onto his front. Petunia sighed and switched it off. Why he bothered setting the alarm, she'd never know. She leant forward to kiss the back of his neck. "Wake up, darling. I'll make you a coffee and put breakfast on."
He obliged at the promise of coffee and food. As he got out of bed, his tummy rumbled. Petunia ruffled his bedhead and headed into the kitchen.
She'd just finished frying the bacon when Vernon appeared and sat down at the table. "Perfect timing," she told him with a smile as she placed his breakfast in front of him.
"Thank you, sweetheart," he said, pecking her on the lips. "You smell nice."
"It's my new perfume. Chanel no 5," she answered, fiddling with the hem of her dress as she walked away from him.
Vernon's eyes widened, making him look rather dazed, but he didn't say anything. He focused on her dress instead. "I've never seen that dress before. Is it new?"
"Yes. I picked it up in Debenhams the last time I was in town." Her tone suggested that he should tread carefully, and Vernon was already toeing the line.
"You seem to be buying lots of new clothes for us recently, darling. Is everything okay?"
Petunia raised an eyebrow. "Is it a crime to want us to look good, Vernon? We have an image to uphold now, and I won't have Davina Garland looking down her big nose at us."
Vernon held his hands up in surrender and went back to eating his breakfast in silence. Petunia busied herself by making coffee. As she placed the mugs on the table, she heard Dudley crying and hurried off to get him.
"I'm taking Dudley to the doctors today," Petunia said as she placed her son in his highchair. Dudley spat his dummy out and babbled to his father.
"Again? You took him a few days ago, didn't you? The doctor prescribed some medicine." Vernon looked at their son, who chucked his dummy on the floor and started wailing. "You seem fine to me, Dudders."
Petunia placed Dudley's porridge in front of him and began to spoon feed him. Dudley stopped crying and opened his mouth wide. "Well, I'm his mother, and I know best. Can you feed him while I wash up?"
"Yes, darling." Petunia headed to the sink, but she didn't miss Vernon's next comment. "Now this is exactly why the doctor changed his number on us."
She whirled around to face him. "He did what? Just wait until his surgery opens. I'll go round there and give him a piece of—"
"It was a joke, darling." Vernon looked at her with concern in his eyes, and Petunia couldn't stand it. Since when did they make jokes, anyway?
"You hate jokes."
"I do," he acknowledged, "but they come in handy when the atmosphere is so stifling I can barely breathe."
"I don't know what you mean," Petunia snapped, focusing on the sink in front of her as she made the glasses shine to perfection. Neither of them said another word; the only sounds came from Dudley as he noisily enjoyed his porridge.
Petunia applied her deep red lipstick and checked her hair for the tenth time that morning. The snooty receptionist had given her an appointment, but she'd sounded fed up for some reason. Honestly, some people were so miserable.
"Come on, Dudders. We're off to see that silly man who calls himself a doctor. Let's see if he can give you anything for that cough." Dudley coughed obligingly as she picked him up and carried him out the door.
She placed Dudley in his car seat and strapped him in. As she shut the door, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Davina or Elizabeth—perhaps both. Petunia forced a smile and turned around. As she expected, the two women were standing there, looking immaculate as always; the perfect housewives of Privet Drive.
"Good morning, Petunia," Davina said, smiling widely, showing off her gleaming white teeth. If Petunia was feeling bitter, she'd think that the woman had paid a small fortune for her gnashers, and Petunia was always feeling bitter.
For a moment, she thought of her younger sister, Lily. The witch had swanned off with her husband, and they had a baby close to Dudley's age. They'd picked a nasty, common name, in Petunia's opinion. Every other man and his dog was called Harry. At least Dudley was a somewhat original name.
"Good morning, ladies," she answered, smiling back. She added getting her teeth whitened to her mental list. Vernon didn't have to find out; they had plenty of money anyway, so what did it matter?
Elizabeth flicked her red mane out of her eyes. "Where are you off too?"
"Dudley has a cough, so I'm taking him to the doctor." Her eyes flickered to the boy in the car. "I should get going. I don't want to leave him alone for too long."
Davina nodded and smiled at Petunia. It was a smile she didn't trust; foxlike and cunning. "Of course. We just wanted to say thank you for the invite to your dinner party tomorrow."
Petunia hoped her smile didn't resemble a grimace. When Vernon returned from work, he was a dead man. Even the best doctor in the world wouldn't be able to save him when she was finished with him. Hell, if she didn't care so much about appearances, she'd ring him and give his colleagues something to gossip about. "You were the first people we thought of. A dinner party just wouldn't be the same without you both."
She waved as the redhead and brunette walked on. When they rounded the corner, she got in the car and slammed it shut. "Would you mind terribly if I killed your father, Dudders?"
The infant blinked at her and spat out his dummy.
"What do you mean, you forgot to tell me?" Petunia hissed as she read through the recipe for shrimp bisque. "You could've told me before we went to bed, or at breakfast. Luckily for you, I'm an excellent cook and can handle this."
Vernon smiled. "Of course you can, darling. That's why I knew it didn't matter. You could whip something up with short notice, and it will be much better than anything Davina or Elizabeth can produce."
Petunia didn't know if this was true, but her ego liked to be stroked. She smiled at him and put the recipe book down. "You're forgiven, but don't do it again, or I might slip and pour the bisque on your head one of these days."
Vernon grimaced. "Please don't. What would the neighbours say?"
She returned to her recipe book. Petunia would make this dinner party so successful that the neighbours would be talking about it for weeks after. Davina and Elizabeth would have the smiles wiped right off their faces by the time they tasted her dessert. She didn't want to be insignificant anymore. "I took Dudley to the doctor."
"What did he say?"
"He said it's just a cold, but I'm going to keep an eye on it. He could have asthma." Her eyes landed on the perfect dish for the main. Beef Wellington—one of Vernon's favourites. She'd make a black forest gateau for dessert.
"Really? He doesn't sound wheezy to me. I haven't even heard him cough much." She could feel Vernon watching her as he filled up the kettle, and it set her on edge.
"Well, I have, and I'm around him for longer than you are, Vernon."
Her husband sighed. "Alright, darling. You know best."
The day of the dinner party came round quickly, and seven o'clock was nearly upon them. Vernon put Dudley to bed while Petunia added the finishing touches to the food. It looked divine, even if she said so herself.
A loud knock at the door startled her as she was stirring the bisque, and she spilt some on her pristine pink dress. "Damn," she muttered, dabbing at it with a cloth. "Vernon, can you answer the door?"
"On my way, darling."
She didn't have time to change. The colour blended in with her dress, so maybe they wouldn't notice. Petunia poured her third glass of red wine and downed it. The aromatic smell of the shrimp bisque lingered on her, and she wondered if she could get away with sneaking upstairs and squirting herself with perfume.
The sound of voices filled the house, and Petunia left the kitchen to greet her guests. "Good evening, everyone. Can I get you anything to drink."
"Ooh, I'll have a glass of white wine, please," Davina said, running her gaze over Petunia from head to toe. "Lovely dress, Petunia, but I think you've spilt something on it. What a shame." She pointed to the spot of shrimp bisque, and Petunia wished for the power to kill with one stare.
"Must have happened while I was cooking. Never mind," she said, forcing out a light laugh. "What would you like to drink, Elizabeth?"
"I'll have the same, please. Oh, and you're mascara seems to have smudged a little—just there." She handed Petunia a wipe and patted her hand. "Don't worry, things can only go up from here. The food smells lovely.
"Thank you," Petunia said, dabbing under her eye before busying herself with making drinks. "Dinner is almost ready, so get yourselves sat down and I'll bring the drinks over. Vernon, can you get Bob and Mark something to drink?"
"I've poured us some whisky, darling. Proper man's drink," Vernon called out from the lounge.
Petunia could hear the men murmur in agreement and she rolled her eyes. If the evening didn't pick up, she'd take the whole bottle and make it a proper woman's drink. She laughed out loud at the thought, picturing the faces of her guests if she did such a thing. It would be worth it just to see Vernon's reaction. Maybe he'd turn vermilion and explode.
The drinks were on the table, along with the bread rolls. Petunia dished up six bowls of the creamy pink substance and breathed in the rich aroma. "Ten out of ten for me. Top chefs couldn't do a better job," she crowed.
She carried them in, two at a time, and finally, they were all gathered around eating the meal that she'd slaved over. The food was praised, to Petunia's delight, and her two female guests battled for the spotlight. Petunia watched them with an arched eyebrow as she buttered her roll.
"We went on a six-month cruise a few years ago, and the food there was to die for, you know. I highly recommend it," Davina told Elizabeth. The men were in their own world, talking about golf or some other sport—Petunia wasn't giving them her full attention.
"It sounds lovely," Elizabeth told her friend. "But six months is such a long time. I don't think we could fit it in with our week at Haven and two weeks in Florida. We're too busy," she announced as if this was a hardship. "What about you, Petunia?"
She glanced at Elizabeth. The redhead had straightened her hair today and pinned her fringe back. Her green eyes shone in the light, drawing Petunia's attention to them. She gasped and vaguely wondered if Harry had her sister's eyes.
"Petunia?"
"Sorry, I was miles away. Let me clear your plates."
The women watched her in surprise as she cleared the dishes away and hurried into the kitchen. When she came back, she was armed with plates full of beef wellington and vegetables. "I promise you all, you won't leave my table feeling hungry."
A few minutes later, talk returned to holidays. "So, where do you and Vernon like going on holiday, Petunia," Elizabeth asked again, taking a sip of wine.
"France, usually. We have a soft spot for Nice." She tried to say more, but Davina cut her off.
"Oh, Nice is lovely. We have a holiday home in Paris, but we almost bought one in Nice." The brunette took one more bite of her beef wellington and set her cutlery down. "That was lovely, Petunia, but I couldn't eat another bite."
Elizabeth followed suit. Petunia felt frumpy for eating all of hers and still having room for dessert. Mark and I have been thinking of buying a holiday home," Elizabeth told them. "We can't decide between France or Italy."
Petunia stood up and gathered the plates. She'd had it with talks of holidays and holiday homes, and she needed to calm down fast.
"Maybe we could buy one in France and Italy; the best of both worlds."
That did it. "You two can show off to each other later. You're both very smart. Now shut up." The two women stared at her in horror, open-mouthed and gasping like goldfish. Petunia wanted to stare at herself in the same way. She forced out a laugh that sounded more like a quiet scream and headed out of the room. Even the men had stopped talking to watch the little drama unfolding in front of them.
Petunia poured her wine to the brim and took large gulps. She opened a drawer full of junk and pulled out a picture. It was fairly new, and one she didn't look at very often. Vernon didn't even know she had it. Petunia stroked her sister's smiling face with her little finger before looking at the baby in Lily's arms. He had his father's hair, but his eyes were closed. Perhaps she'd never know the colour of her nephew's eyes.
She thought of Lily, out in the world living a life of excitement with her little family. No day could be dull and ordinary when magic was involved. A surge of bitterness washed over her, and Petunia drank the rest of her wine in one go. Perfect Lily, turning objects into something they weren't supposed to be. Right now, Petunia wanted to be someone else, but that someone else eluded her. No magic spell could change that for her, no matter how much she wished for it.
And through it all, she actually missed Lily. A sob escaped her lips just as she felt Vernon wrap his arms around her waist. He took the photo from her and let out a noise of surprise at the way it moved. Petunia could picture his frown.
"I don't think Dudley is the one who needs a doctor, Tuney." Petunia felt his blue eyes staring at her, probably bright with concern. She knew he was right, but she couldn't admit it. Needing to talk to someone was a sign of weakness—an embarrassment that she didn't need.
"No," she answered, fighting to hold back tears. She wriggled free of his grasp and started to put the gateau on plates. The dinner party was close to finishing, she just had to hold on a little longer.
"If you'd just talk to someone—"
"And tell them I have a witch for a sister? Do you want to visit me in the looney bin, Vernon?"
"Of course not, but you don't have to tell them—"
"No, Vernon. I'm fine. Carry the dessert to our guests and tell them I'll be out in a few minutes. I have to apologise to Elizabeth and Davina." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and looked her husband in the eye. He remained unconvinced. "I'm fine."
He did as she said and left her in the kitchen. She took a deep breath and got out her compact mirror. Her eyes were a state, but that was nothing a bit of eyeshadow and mascara couldn't fix.
"I'm fine."