‘Just here. Hiding in the bath.’ She shrugged, implicating the two women, who looked at each other. ‘I’m sorry, Michael,’ she whispered.
He sighed and knelt down so he could see her face behind the curtain of hair.
‘Could we… Could we go for a walk, do you think?’ she whispered.
‘A walk?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sure. If you want to.’
‘I do.’ She climbed from the bed and placed her hand inside his, looking back at her mum and Ellen as she and Michael left the room.
Ellen sank down on her bed. ‘I’m a nervous wreck.’
Vivienne nodded. ‘I just want her to be happy, Elle. I can’t stand the thought of her making a mistake.’
‘He does seem nice enough, and let’s not forget, he is a real doctor.’
‘Yes, he does and he is.’ She looked at her friend. ‘But I don’t care what he does for a living if he isn’t right for Emma, everything else becomes irrelevant and being nice enough sounds like faint praise. Not that it matters what we think, it only matters what Emma thinks. And you were right, by the way. Nothing my mum could have said would have stopped me marrying Ray. But I think the fact that she isn’t desperately longing for tomorrow speaks volumes.’
‘Imagine coming all this way for a wedding that doesn’t happen.’ Ellen twisted her mouth.
‘Firstly, we don’t know it’s not going to happen – we mustn’t jump to any conclusions right now. And secondly, no matter what happens, I wouldn’t have missed this trip for the world. It’s been incredible.’ A vision of her bobbing on the ocean in the pouring rain with the storm raging overhead, as she sat in Gil’s little boat, popped into her head, just before the sound of Ray’s loud voice filtered through from the hallway.
‘Although I must admit, there is one guest I would rather not have had to mix with.’ She curled her lip.
‘I’ll come out with you.’ Ellen swung her legs off the bed.
‘No, you’re okay, Elle. I’m a big girl. I managed to hide from him yesterday, but I can’t do that today and tomorrow.’ Flinging on her cropped jeans and a loose-fitting long-sleeved T-shirt, Vivienne went to face the music.
‘I’m proud of you girl.’ Ellen smiled at her mate, as she left the room.
*
It was strange to see Ray sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen and Gil with his back to him, busy at the stove. They both turned to look at her. Her cheeks flared under their scrutiny and she felt uneasy at being in the company of both of them at the same time.
‘Morning.’ Gil smiled, returning his gaze instantly to the Italian stovetop coffee maker.
‘How are you doing, Viv?’ Ray’s Australian accent still took her by surprise. It was so far from the voice that she remembered.
‘Fine.’ Her nod was brief; she was irritated by his presence.
‘Have you spoken to Emma this morning? I got a call from Michael and he sounded ready to flip.’
She hated the way Ray spoke with such ease and familiarity not only about Emma but also Gil’s son, and the fact that he did so in Gil’s company.
‘She’s fine, thank you.’ Her curt response was tempered by a glance at Gil; she would talk to him in private, later. ‘There’s no need for you to hang around, Ray. It’s all under control, so if you have plans…’
‘Hear that, Gil? I think she’s trying to get rid of me.’ He spoke over his shoulder.
His manner, the way he saw fit to objectify and talk over her in the name of humour, buddying up to the nearest male to try and assert himself, reminded her so powerfully of her life with him that she felt her fingers flex and her muscles cord in anger.
‘I tell you something, Ray…’ She inhaled, ready to tell him exactly how she felt, when the terrace door slammed and Emma rushed through the hall, heading for her bedroom with her hand over her mouth. Michael followed swiftly behind. All three turned to face him.
‘You can all stop staring at me and you can crack on with packing up your fancy outfits – the wedding’s off. I’ll start phoning around. Dad, can you call Schnappa Rock, apologise to Nick, tell him not to bring up all the food, I can’t bear to think of the waste.’ He looked anxious, a whole jumble of emotions clearly hovering near the surface.
‘Where’s Emma?’ Ray asked.
‘Probably packing. Who knows? Not me. I don’t know much, apparently.’ He looked up at his dad. ‘Not even the “real her”, whatever that means.’ He raised his arms in the air, his palms splayed.
‘She probably just needs a bit of time.’ Vivienne didn’t know what to say, or how to make it better.
‘Now there’s a coincidence, that’s exactly what she said,’ he snapped.
‘There’s no need to be sarcastic, Michael,’ Gil interjected. ‘Viv’s only trying to help.’
‘Is that right? Seems that since she and her friend arrived, the things they’ve said have been far from helpful.’
‘That’s enough!’ Gil yelled.
‘It’s okay, Gil.’ Vivienne tried to sound soothing. ‘I understand Michael’s hurt and this all feels like a big mess. We all need five minutes to calm down.’
Michael gave a snort and, grabbing his sunglasses, he swept from the room.
‘I’ll go and talk to Emma.’ Ray slipped down off his breakfast stool.
‘Oh no you don’t!’ It was her turn to snap, ‘I’ve told you, if there is somewhere you need to be then please don’t feel you need to hang around on my account.’ She fired off the words, as she made her way to Emma’s room.
She knocked and waited, until a small voice called out, ‘Come in.’
Pushing the door slowly, she spied Emma curled into a little ball in the corner of the vast bed, her fists bunched up under her chin and her eyes red and swollen. The beautiful dress hung over the wardrobe door inside its gauze sheath.
‘Oh, Emma.’ She walked over and knelt on the floor, cradling her child to her chest.
‘He… he is so mad at me! And… and I was only telling him the truth, that I’m scared and that I think we need more… more time and that he doesn’t really know me.’ She hiccupped.
‘He’s not really mad, just hurt and embarrassed, and in the heat of the moment it can often sound the same. It’ll all be okay, love, and, either way, you were very brave to have the conversation, very brave to question what you were about to do.’
‘I don’t feel very brave, I feel very stupid.’
‘Well, you are not.’ She kissed her scalp.
‘I don’t want to lose him, as a friend. I do love him, I really do.’ Her tears fell again. ‘But I don’t think we are right for each other, Mum.’
‘You have only known each other for such a short space of time, and it’s far better you decide this now than further down the line, trust me, that was the mistake I made with Ray. Marriage has to be based on honesty and friendship and trust. Better to wait and get it right than rush and make a big mistake.’
Michael marched into the room. ‘Oh, I didn’t know you were in here, Viv.’
‘Just checking she’s okay, but I’ll leave you two to it.’
She untangled herself from Emma’s grip and walked to the door.
‘You know, Michael, I’m not interfering. This is between you two and you’re both grown-ups. But I do think that being able to be open about how you’re feeling, doubts and all, is one of the most important things there is. Even if what the other person has to say is something you don’t particularly want to hear.’
He gave a small nod. ‘I guess.’ He stared out of the window and his voice now had a distinct quiver to it. ‘But I kind of think that if she’s not ready now, if she has doubts, or feels she can’t be herself with me, then she’ll probably have the same doubts and we will be in the same situation in another month or another year.’
‘I’m really sorry, Michael.’ Emma sounded desperate.
‘Me too.’ He gave a half smile.
Vivienne left them to it.
*
&n
bsp; Gil and Ray were still in the kitchen and they had been joined by Ellen, who was busy emptying the dishwasher and hunting in the cupboards, trying to locate where the crockery and pots lived. Gil was cooking eggs in a skillet.
‘How is she doing?’ Ellen paused from her task.
‘She’s sad, as you’d expect, but chatting to Michael now. He’s naturally upset and it’s horrible to see, two lovely people who have jumped a bit too soon and are now trying to mop up the mess.’
Gil turned to her and gave her a sincere, if brief, smile that made her gut flip. It was in her mind a direct message that all was well between them, despite the distressing development.
‘I feel sorry for them both,’ he ventured.
Vivienne nodded at him.
‘Well I feel sorry for me!’ Ellen pointed at her chest. ‘I came all this way, got my hair done, we both did, not to mention Viv’s Siberian hamster experience. I bought a new frock and a fancy fascinator and now there won’t be so much as a vol-au-vent passed around and, more importantly, there’ll be no pictures of me in my finery. I wanted them for Facebook.’ She pulled a sad face.
‘Tell you what, if you get dressed up, I’ll take pictures of you if you like, Elle,’ Ray offered.
‘No, thanks. You’d probably run off with my camera.’ She closed her eyes and carried on refilling the dishwasher with coffee cups and plates.
‘That’s a bit harsh,’ Ray said. ‘I’m a businessman nowadays. Strictly legit.’
‘Ray, you wouldn’t know legit if it jumped up and bit your arse,’ Ellen countered. ‘The things my Trev has told me about your antics…’ She tutted. ‘I’m lucky you never got him into real trouble.’
‘Ah, Trev. I miss him.’ He shook his head and smiled, as if picturing the good old days.
‘And he misses you too, like a hole in a bucket,’ she scoffed.
‘Anyone for eggs?’ Gil held up the skillet in an attempt to divert them from their acid-laced banter.
Vivienne felt a swell of awkwardness at this strange reunion that was happening in his kitchen, under his nose. Ellen and Ray were carrying on as if they were in her house in Mendip Road. She was acutely aware that they were Gil’s guests and the idea of him feeling excluded worried her.
‘Me, please.’ She walked forward and grabbed a plate. Breakfast was the last thing she wanted, but it was a way to show unity.
It felt surreal to her, the four of them sitting around the breakfast bar talking about the weather, the food, anything other than the fact that she had been thrown into a jovial catch-up with the man who had abandoned her, and that Emma had pulled the plug on her nuptials. She felt quite light-headed.
‘So, what do we do now?’ It was Ellen that broached the topic, typically unafraid to tackle the elephant in the room.
‘Well, from my perspective, you continue to enjoy your stay,’ Gil said. ‘We take care of the kids the best we can and, when it arrives, we work out how much cake needs to be eaten per person until we’ve got through the whole lot.’
‘Now that sounds like a plan,’ Ellen said.
‘I suppose I should think about getting back to Oz.’ Ray looked at the other three, who said nothing to try and stop him.
‘I can give you a lift to the airport, no worries,’ Gil offered, avoiding eye contact.
‘Cheers for that mate!’ Ray raised his coffee mug in a salute.
There was a second of silence. It seemed to Vivienne that, like her, everyone was considering how very different this trip had turned out to be.
‘I have one question…’ Gil paused. Everyone looked at him, sipping their coffee. ‘What’s Viv’s Siberian hamster?’
Vivienne sprayed her mouthful over the breakfast bar, and Ellen laid her head on her arms and laughed out loud.
It was only when Emma appeared from the hall that they all sat up straight and rather sheepishly went quiet.
‘Can I get you a drink, Emma? Or something to eat?’
Vivienne noted the kindness with which Gil spoke to her, his nearly daughter-in-law.
Once again, Emma broke down in tears. ‘I’m sorry, Gil. For everything.’
‘You don’t have to apologise, love. You and Michael will work things out, however you’re meant to. Life’s too short not to do the right thing.’
Emma walked over to him and put her hands around his waist in a grateful hug.
‘What’s the plan, love?’ Ray asked.
Emma shrugged. ‘I don’t really have one, not long-term, but Michael and I have agreed we need to spend time apart to get our heads straight.’
‘I was just saying, I should probably think about getting home, back to Oz.’
‘Can I come with you?’ she asked brightly, as if her dad had thrown her a lifeline.
Emma’s request came out of the blue. Vivienne bristled. She had assumed that Emma would come home to Bristol, at least for a bit. She’d pictured the two of them sitting on the sofa on Christmas Day, sharing the tin of Quality Street while they listened to the Queen’s speech.
Ray opened his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. He shifted awkwardly on the bar stool and pulled at the collar of his polo shirt. His hesitation was cringe inducing.
‘I know the kids would love to meet you and it would mean the world, spending some time together, getting to know each other a bit better. I could even get you working in the shop.’ He gave a nervous laugh.
Emma nodded her enthusiasm. ‘That sounds really good!’
‘But I think it would be best to wait until after Christmas. Ashley – that’s my daughter,’ he added, ‘she’s a bit of a live wire and what with her mum passing so recently, she needs careful handling. I think you turning up might be a bit of a shocker.’
‘I agree with Ray,’ Ellen cut in. ‘When people aren’t where you expect them to be, either popping up unexpectedly or doing a runner unexpectedly, it can be a bit of a shocker.’
Vivienne acknowledged her friend’s support with a slow blink.
Emma swallowed and picked at her fingernail, looking for any distraction to mask her hurt. Yet another blow on this horrible day. ‘That’s okay, I understand.’ Her voice was very small. ‘I’ll call you over Christmas and we can sort something out for the New Year, maybe?’
‘Yes, maybe.’ Ray looked away and downed his coffee. ‘Let’s do that.’
Vivienne stared at the bloated let-down that was her husband. His promise of wanting to be there for Emma, made only a day or so ago, reminded them all that this was what he did, what he had always done: said one thing and did another.
‘Do you know, I think I was right, Ray. People do change, but not many. And certainly not you.’
Emma looked at her mum. Her expression was one Vivienne had seen a lot when she was a child: searching, wanting her mum to make everything better.
‘You come home with me, Em.’ She closed her eyes and smiled.
‘Well, this is nice, are we all having a nice catch up over breakfast?’ Michael’s anger frothed, causing them all to look up.
‘Michael, I…’ Emma began.
He held up his palm. ‘I tell you what, Em, save it. I’ve heard just about all I can take today. It feels like I’m the only one whose life is falling apart while you all chat over brunch. I’m going back to work.’ He addressed his dad. ‘I’m going to stay in digs for a while. One of my mates has a spare room, it’s right by the hospital.’
‘I think you should stay here, son. You need to be near people, Michael,’ Gil said.
‘I will be, Dad – my patients and my friends. That’ll do me for a while.’ He nodded.
‘I’ll speak to you later. Drive steady.’ Gil spoke earnestly.
‘Bye, Michael.’ Vivienne struggled for anything more poignant to say.
Emma got tearful again as the two exchanged a lingering look. Then Michael threw a sports bag over his shoulder and left.
Ray downed his coffee and slapped his thigh. ‘Right, I better go back and pack up my stuff at the B & B.’ He
smiled in everyone’s general direction. ‘About that lift?’ He flicked his head towards Gil, who was sipping his coffee with one hand on his hip.
‘Sure, I’ll drop you back at the B & B and they can call you a cab to Auckland from there.’ Gil threw the remainder of his drink into the sink with some urgency, as if suddenly hit by a nasty aftertaste.
No one mentioned the less than subtle rescinding of his offer to give Ray a ride all the way to the airport.
‘I’ll come with you, Dad. We can chat while you pack.’
It tore at Vivienne’s heart to see Emma so keen to make every minute count, knowing they were on a timer.
Ray took the hint and stood up. ‘Bye then, Viv.’
‘Bye then,’ she echoed, looking at him only briefly. She felt very little emotion at bidding him farewell, and there was no fanfare, just an ordinary parting. She was surprised by how low-key it all was, when what she had craved for so many years was the chance to say goodbye.
11
Gil jumped into the cab of his truck, off to check on the farm, as he did twice daily. It was now late morning and the last lull in the day before the heat really took hold.
‘Can I come with you?’ Vivienne asked, approaching the driver’s door as he threw an empty bucket and a large bundle of twine into the back of the cab.
‘Sure,’ he said nonchalantly, closing his door and waiting for her to climb in.
She wound down the window and drank in the view as the truck dipped and rose over the uneven terrain of Aropari. There seemed to be sheep almost everywhere, grazing on clumps of grass or sheltering behind gorse bushes and standing very still as if playing hide and seek. They bleated as they spied the red vehicle, which was as familiar to them as the man driving it. Gil maintained that each sheep’s bleat was unique. Leaning his tanned arm out of the open window, he made a clicking noise with his tongue and they seemed to respond.
As the truck climbed higher, her body sank back into the leather-upholstered seat. She gripped the sides, wanting to hold onto something.
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