by Sarah Picson
‘You’ve had a break. You’ve spent all week sleeping in late and gallivanting about with your friends.’
An awkward silence stretched out in front of them. Ellie opened her mouth but words failed her.
‘I think Ellie has needed a rest from all those kids at school, Anne. I know I always welcomed a break in the holidays,’ Clive said, winking at Ellie.
Anne speared her husband with a frosty glare before turning her full attention back to her daughter.
‘The sooner everything is organised for the wedding, the sooner you can relax, you know that. You must keep on top of everything,’ Anne said.
Ellie opened her mouth to argue, but instead a yawn escaped.
‘Go on, you need some sleep,’ Anne ordered. ‘Your father will bring you up a cup of tea in a minute.’
Ellie trudged up to her childhood bedroom and switched on a pink lamp on the bedside table. Every time she visited the room seemed to get a little smaller. Her white chest of drawers was still plastered with stickers that she’d stuck on years ago and a row of dusty, stuffed animals sat on the top of her wardrobe, gazing down at her benignly.
She pulled off her jumper and dropped onto the bed, her body heavy with wine and lasagne. Ellie’s head sank back into the soft pillow and like shutters, her eyelids rolled shut and she was asleep within seconds.
~
The next morning, as the sun peeked in through thin, pink curtains, Ellie stretched her arms above her head, unwilling to get out of bed.
Escaping Thistleby for the week had been just what she’d needed. She had received a few grumbling texts from Dominic at first.
You’re always at work and now you’re running off to your parents. What about me? What am I supposed to do?
Ellie hadn’t known what to reply, so she hadn’t responded at all.
It hadn’t been long before another text had come through.
You know your mum will only annoy you if you stay all week. Stay a few days and then come home.
But like a hard piece of granite, she had been immovable. Nothing he said could have persuaded her to come back early.
You’re making things difficult, Ellie. Overreacting about that meeting I missed. It’s just getting stupid now.
And then his messages had stopped and Ellie had revelled in the silence, but the week had sped by unreasonably fast and now she was faced with the stark reality of having to return to Thistleby tomorrow.
Her phone bleeped with a message from Jenny.
Hope your week away has done you good. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you soon xx
Yawning, Ellie scrolled through her other messages and she paused on the last one she’d received from Robert, cancelling Abi’s tuition session. The message she’d missed.
Hello, this is Robert Finch. I need to cancel Abi’s maths tutoring session tonight. Sorry for any inconvenience caused. Robert.
Ellie read it over a few times, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips at his polite, formal words. She had to admit that she’d enjoyed talking to him that evening at his house. He was a good listener and once you got past his prickly exterior, there was a warmth and honesty to him.
She’d been surprised at how often he’d fluttered into her thoughts during her week away: how natural it had felt to slide across the sofa at his house, how close she’d been to him, her hand in his and the way he’d looked at her.
Ellie shuddered as she remembered the slam of the front door. What if Abi hadn’t come home when she did? Ellie shut her eyes and imagined the possibilities: reaching out her hand to caress Robert’s smooth jaw, before running it slowly down his broad, firm chest, hidden beneath his shirt. Ellie gave a little squeak of indignation and sprang out of bed. She was daydreaming like one of her teenage students.
Marching downstairs in her pyjamas, Ellie was greeted in the kitchen by a frown from her mum and a hug from her dad. Settling down at the table with a cup of tea, she watched her mum buzzing around the dishwasher, grumbling loudly.
‘It’s not working, Clive!’
There was an uptight energy in her mum’s steps this morning, like a tiger about to pounce.
Poking about in the dishwasher, Clive announced with a chuckle that she’d forgotten to close the tablet drawer. Anne Saunders clamped her hands to her hips and glared at her husband, as if it was all his fault, shrugging off the hand he attempted to place on her shoulder. Clive retreated without a word, winking at Ellie as he joined her at the table. She found she couldn’t return her dad’s gentle smile as a surge of irritation burned through her.
It had been these small interactions between her parents that Ellie had been studying while she was staying with them. Had they always been like this? She tried to think back to her childhood, had it been obvious to her then? How long had her mum been dominating their relationship, while her dad appeased her and bent to her will? With a lump in her throat, Ellie realised that she was more like her dad than she would care to admit.
‘I’ve booked a table at The Happy Bean for lunch,’ Anne announced.
Ellie blinked up at her mum. The Happy Bean was her favourite café, with its art deco floor tiles underneath a dense sea of small, round Parisian style tables and chairs, not to mention the delicious food they served. Her stomach gave a low growl.
‘You have?’ said Ellie. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Curling her hands around her cup of tea, Ellie let its warmth seep into her fingers, her frustration receding a little.
‘Yes, yes, I know you like it in there. Nancy will meet us at one o’clock.’
Ellie jolted up straight in her chair.
‘Nancy’s coming?’
‘Of course! She wants to hear all about the wedding plans. By the way, she hasn’t had her invitation yet.’
Her mum had brought in reinforcements. And who better than her best friend, Nancy. This was a woman who could talk until the oceans ran dry; a lively, energetic woman who always had something to say for herself. The thought of sitting between her mum and Nancy through lunch, as they chatted incessantly about all things wedding related, caused her to feel quite faint.
‘That’s because I haven’t sent any,’ Ellie said.
‘Oh Ellie! It’s almost November. If you want to get married in May, you need to get these things done.’
‘Mum, I know you want to help, but I’m not sure that lunch with Nancy is…’
‘Is what?’ her mum interrupted; her voice coiled as tightly as a drum.
‘Is a good idea,’ Ellie said.
‘I’ve barely seen you all week,’ Anne said, indignation making her body quiver. ‘I haven’t organised this lunch for me, Ellie, I’ve done it for you.’
Anne slapped a tea towel down on the table, her face as rigid as a cliff face. She began clawing at the apron strings behind her back.
‘I’ll call Nancy and cancel,’ she muttered, as she wrestled the apron off.
Ellie wanted nothing more than for her to cancel Nancy but she heard herself say.
‘Okay, okay, let’s go to lunch. Don’t get upset.’
Anne threw her a piercing glance before her face resettled itself back into its usual, exasperated expression.
‘Fine, if that’s what you want. Be ready in an hour.’
Like a ghost, Ellie drifted after her dad into the living room, a hollow feeling invading the pit of her stomach as she slumped onto the sofa. Clive squinted at the cricket on the TV from the edge of his armchair, his hand gripping the remote control. As he leaned further forward, it highlighted the beginnings of a paunch that he had been struggling to restrain in his later years. His temples were mottled with light brown spots and his thin hair was rapidly withdrawing back across the top of his head.
‘Did you always know that Mum was the one, Dad?’
Clive sat back in his chair and tilted his head, his gaze still on the TV.
‘What’s that? The one?’
‘Yes, did you always know you’d spend the rest of your life togethe
r?’
‘What’s all this, Ellie?’ he said, turning to face her.
‘Was it love at first sight?’ she persisted.
Her dad chuckled and shook his head in amusement.
‘Your mother and I met young. I was quiet in those days, very shy. She was a force of nature. Liked to get things done.’
Ellie stared into her cup before asking her next question.
‘Are you happy, Dad?’
His eyes widened.
‘These are strange questions.’
‘They’re not strange, Dad, I think it’s perfectly normal to ask someone if they’re happy.’
‘Is everything okay, Ellie?’
She let out a ragged sigh.
‘Not really. I don’t think I’m very happy.’
‘I see,’ Clive said, clearing his throat and turning off the TV. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He shifted about in his chair; Ellie could tell he was making an effort and she loved him for it.
‘I’m not sure Dominic’s the one for me, that’s all,’ she said, trying to keep her tone light.
‘He seems like a nice enough chap.’
‘I don’t think nice enough is enough to marry someone.’
‘Your mum has always liked him.’
‘She was upset when she found out he was a plumber,’ Ellie threw back.
‘Right, well she got over that.’
‘Why do you always defend her?’
Clive fixed his daughter with a piercing stare that she recognised from his days as a teacher.
‘What has got into you? I defend her because she is my wife.’
‘Don’t you think your loyalty is misplaced, the way she treats you?’
A frown creased Clive’s face up.
‘The way she treats me? Our marriage is our business, Ellie. I’m not sure what problems you’re having with Dominic, but don’t speak about your mother that way.’
‘But does she appreciate you? I hear the way she talks to you, she’s only interested in herself.’
‘Only interested in herself? She’s been talking about you non-stop all week when you’ve been out with your friends. How concerned she is, how you’re avoiding talking about Dominic and the wedding.’
‘She just wants to stick her nose in and tell me how I should be doing everything.’
‘That’s quite enough, Ellie. You know she’s struggled since she lost her job. She likes to keep busy, but she’s felt like she’s lost her purpose. This wedding of yours, she wants to be a part of it, if you’ll let her.’
Ellie felt a small part of her curl up in guilt. Her mum had worked as a legal secretary for years before her company had downsized and Anne’s job had been one of the first to go. Despite spending months applying for dozens of jobs, she never even got an interview and eventually made the difficult decision to take early retirement and with that, endless hours of filling time had rolled out before her. When Ellie had announced the wedding, she hadn’t missed the hope that had jumped into her mum’s eyes.
‘I’ve been such an idiot,’ she whispered.
Her dad’s expression softened.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘My wedding.’
She sniffed loudly and a solitary tear broke free and rolled down her cheek.
‘What’s going on, love?’
‘I don’t trust him,’ said Ellie. ‘I’m pretty sure I don’t love him either.’
‘Why don’t you trust him?’ Clive asked, leaning forward. ‘Is he mistreating you? Getting physical?’
‘No, nothing like that. He just wants everything his own way, and well…oh, it’s complicated, Dad.’
Clive sat back and scrutinized his daughter; he didn’t look any wiser.
‘Look, if you’re not happy, don’t marry the man.’
Ellie could have hugged him, he made it sound so simple.
‘Mum will be so annoyed.’
‘Your mother will be fine.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘She’ll have to be,’ Clive said, slicing his hand through the air, as if it were him that wore the trousers in their relationship. ‘Why don’t you move back here for a while? You’d have no trouble getting a local job. They’re crying out for maths teachers everywhere.’
Ellie bit her lip, it was a comforting thought, living somewhere familiar and being close to her dad.
‘I can’t, Dad,’ she whispered. ‘I love my job. I have some great friends and I enjoy living in Thistleby.’
‘Fair enough,’ Clive said. ‘It was worth a try.’
Ellie buried her face in her hands.
‘This isn’t how I pictured my life at thirty-five.’
Clive sat back and clasped his hands over his stomach.
‘What did you picture exactly?’
‘I don’t know,’ Ellie said, with a deep sigh. ‘That I’d be married, that you’d have some grandchildren, that I’d be settled.’
‘Ellie, you are settled. You have a great career and lots of friends.’
‘I never expected to be contemplating starting again like this though, Dad. All the friends I’ve seen this week are in relationships and most of them have children.’
Clive shrugged his shoulders.
‘There’s more to life than all that, Ellie. Don’t compare yourself to them. Decide what to do about Dominic and then make the best of what you’ve got.’
She felt her dad gently squeeze her hand.
‘You’re very wise, you know that, Dad?’
‘I do,’ he replied, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
‘Sorry about all that,’ she whispered, rubbing a few stray tears from her cheeks with the palm of her hand.
‘Never be sorry,’ Clive said. ‘Be happy.’
~
An hour later, Ellie was trying to keep up with her mum’s brisk step as they weaved their way along the cobbled high street of Northwick. It was a good deal larger than Thistleby and despite the steely, drab clouds threatening rain at any moment, people bustled in and out of shops. Harassed parents dragged their children along, promising treats for good behaviour and elderly couples strolled arm in arm, drifting from one coffee shop to the next.
Entering The Happy Bean, the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and sweet pastries engulfed Ellie and she sighed in happiness. It gave her strength for the conversation that was yet to come.
They sat down and cradled their coffees, trying to warm up from the late October chill outside.
‘Nancy’s late!’ her mum declared.
‘Only by a couple of minutes.’
‘We’ll have to get started.’
Anne heaved her handbag onto her lap and pulled out a pile of wedding magazines. They landed with a thunk on the table. Ellie stared at them without blinking.
‘We can go through some styles for your dress while we wait. I think lace would be elegant. Something traditional, although not too wide, it will swamp you, you don’t have the height to pull it off.’
Ellie rolled her eyes. She couldn’t sit through this for the next hour.
‘Mum.’ Anne didn’t look up from the magazine she was flicking through at breakneck speed. ‘Mum.’
‘Yes, what is it?’
Ellie took a deep breath, her throat suddenly scratchy and uncomfortable.
‘I’ve been having second thoughts, Mum.’
‘Aha!’
Anne’s eyes lit up as she smoothed a page out flat.
‘About the wedding. I’ve been having second thoughts about the wedding,’ Ellie said, trying to control the wobble in her voice.
At first, she thought her mum hadn’t heard but then her eyes swivelled from the magazine page up to her daughter’s face. Ellie braced herself.
‘Second thoughts?’ Anne said, in a tone Ellie recognised only too well. ‘Ellie, you’re too old to be playing games like this. If you don’t marry Dominic then all you’ll be left with are men coming out of their first marriages: divorce
d with baggage. That’s not what you want, is it?’
Ellie winced.
‘Mum, I’m not in love with Dominic.’
Her mum made a disgruntled sound in her throat.
‘Oh goodness, Ellie. Love? You’re not a silly girl any more, stop being so childish.’
Ellie went rigid as Dominic’s words from a few weeks ago slammed into her.
You can be so bloody childish, Ellie.
A flush of anger flooded her, causing her to tingle all over. All she could do was stare at her mum, who continued to talk, barely noticing how still her daughter had become.
‘He asked you to marry him and you said yes. How long have you two been together? Seven, eight years? You’ve lived with him for God knows how long now, it’s time to get on with your life.’
‘Woo-hoo!’
A tall, big-boned woman hurtled towards them. Her small eyes were everywhere, beneath a dense fringe that tickled her eyebrows.
‘Anne!’ came her excited shriek. ‘Ellie!’
Nancy bent over and gave Ellie a wet kiss on both cheeks, her strong, sickly perfume making Ellie’s eyes water.
‘Oh, it’s such a treat to see you, Ellie.’
She scraped a chair back and maneuvered herself into it, knocking her handbag against the people at the table next to them.
‘I’m looking forward to the big day, Ellie! We’re all waiting for our invitations. Alistair’s got twins now and Molly’s pregnant again.’ Her face beamed with pride. ‘So come on,’ Nancy said, the bracelets on her arm clinking together as she held her plump hand up and motioned for the girl behind the till to take her order. ‘I want to know all of the details. Flowers. Dresses. Honeymoon. Don’t leave anything out.’
‘Let’s start with the dress,’ Anne said, throwing a warning glance in Ellie’s direction, as she pushed some magazines across the table to Nancy.
‘I’m not getting married,’ Ellie said.
She couldn’t be sure exactly when she’d come to this conclusion, whether it was when she saw Dominic going into Scarlette’s house or when she’d had spoken to her dad that morning, but hearing herself say the words felt like the most natural thing in the world. It was suddenly so simple. She couldn’t marry someone that she didn’t trust. She couldn’t keep ignoring the panic in her chest every time she pictured herself walking down the aisle towards Dominic. She was not going to accept a husband who didn’t respect her.