by Jenny Colgan
But Leah had already turned away. ‘Matt.’ She launched herself at him.
Posy closed her eyes in embarrassment. She suddenly remembered why she hadn’t really wanted a party at all. Too sensitive, the two worlds coming together. Too much opportunity for people to point fingers and ask questions.
‘I just want to say,’ said Leah, clutching his shoulder very tightly. I just want to say it’s not even a quarter to eight and all my friends are steaming, thought Posy. Her mother wasn’t even here yet.
‘We can’t . . . we never thought Posy would ever get married. We thought she’d be, like, alone for ever after all the disasters she had.’
Oh great. Fucking great, thought Posy. This was exactly what she needed right now. ‘Do shut up, Leah. And you and whose committee thought this anyway?’
Matt was looking increasingly worried.
‘Oh, everyone who knows you. We thought you just weren’t the marrying kind, you know. You’ve said it yourself.’
‘So I was, what, the grow old alone and bitter and eat myself to death kind?’
‘No . . . yeah . . . anyway, doesn’t matter now, does it?’
Another friend of Matt’s wandered by, in black sports shorts so tight he’d actually caused a ripple effect as he moved through the crowd. Leah immediately put her hand over Posy’s eyes.
‘You’re not allowed to look at those any more! No strange winkies now you’re getting married!’
Posy batted her hand away. ‘Best friend! Could you please stop this!’
The man slouched up to Matt.
‘Hey, heard you were getting married, man. Couldn’t believe it. Are you mad?’
‘Clearly,’ said Posy.
‘God, all those women who request you specifically.’
Matt started to go pink round the ears.
‘All that exercise,’ he went on, ‘know what I mean?’
Posy glanced at Mr Headingly. ‘You know, first three times I got married . . .’ he was saying.
Posy wandered off. What had they put in the punch? Over by the snack table, her boss Gavin, the huge buff Aussie who never took any shit off anyone, was . . . was he crying?
‘What’s up?’ said Posy kindly. She felt like crying herself. Where were all the congratulations and presents?
‘Oh, nothing,’ said Gavin. ‘Just seeing you all so fresh and hopeful . . . but only I know that it all turns to shit in the end. All of it.’
Posy had known Gavin was going through a divorce, but she hadn’t realised it was this painful. She’d thought he was coping with it in the same bluff way he coped with everything. Now, watching the tears leaking down his sozzled, red face, she could see perhaps this wasn’t so.
‘She burnt our wedding album,’ he said. ‘So I’ll never see what our wedding day was like ever again. Which is a good thing, obviously.’
‘She was clearly a crazy person,’ said Posy, trying to be reassuring while also trying to remember whether parties weren’t meant to be, like, fun.
‘Divorce turns everyone into a crazy person,’ said Gavin. Suddenly, he grabbed at her hands.
‘Promise me,’ he said, urgently. ‘Promise me you’ll never put yourself in that position. Promise me you could never be somewhere you could hurt someone that badly, or let them hurt you.’
‘Uh, OK,’ said Posy.
Gavin squeezed her hands tighter. ‘Don’t get married! I beg you! Please! Promise me!’
Posy was rarely overjoyed to see her mother stalk into a room looking snooty. But tonight she was.
‘Gavin, I have to go and see my mother.’
‘Is she married?’
‘Divorced.’
‘See?! See?!’
This was getting worse and worse. With the ghost of Marriage Future echoing in her ears, Posy shook out her hands and gave a big sigh. Gavin had lumbered off in Matt’s general direction. Oh Christ. This was turning into a disaster. Her university friends were, as predicted, lining the walls, trying to simultaneously look down on, and pull, Matt’s fit gym friends. It didn’t look very nice, especially as the female gym bunnies were still hanging out and laughing.
‘Posy!’ came her mother’s voice imperiously from the other end of the room. Many of Matt’s friends turned round to see who was shouting, then looked back at each other, sniggering. All right, Posy wanted to say, so my mother has a carrying voice - get over it, tracksuit boys. Instead she hurried up the hall.
‘Mum.’
Jonquil gave her a light kiss. ‘I don’t see any chains.’
‘No.’
‘Or shackles. Have people been giving you cleaning products for gifts? And did I tell you - do not close your own bank account.’
‘Mu-um. Be nice. For five seconds. Do you want to come and say hi to Matt?’
Matt’s parents couldn’t make it down from Blackpool in the end, though they would come for the day itself of course. They were very old and rather sweet and the two times Posy had been up to see them she couldn’t believe how calm their house was - filled with pictures of their small cocker spaniel, about whom they talked more than their only son. Nobody ever picked a fight about Iraq, or the rights of women in Yemen, or brought up female circumcision at the dinner table. Mrs Farmer even cooked proper dinners, things like shepherd’s pie and lasagne, proper full meals that had started life looking like one thing and ended up as something else. And she didn’t seem to feel it was launching herself into a life of slavery to do it. When Posy had mentioned that she had been the family cook, Mrs Farmer had looked extremely shocked, as if this were quite cruel. Her mother, on the other hand, had been terrified that Matt would want his dinner cooked by her, a fate almost as horrifying as being called Mum.
‘He’s not going to call you Mum.’
‘I don’t even like you calling me Mum.’
‘I know that, Mum.’
However, at least she’d turned up, as had Fleur, with, Posy noticed with a sinking heart, a whole posse of her hippie girlfriends, who were all in their twenties, droopily dressed and beautiful as rosebuds. She saw the gym boys immediately drop their desultory chat with her thirty-something friends, stand up a bit straighter and look a bit more interested. Oh God. That meant all her single friends would now get absolutely sloppy drunk and start fights with the blokes who were no longer chatting them up. Great great great.
‘Yes, I will come and see Matt,’ said her mother. Posy thought back to the last time they’d met, after she’d told her mother about the engagement. Matt had actively sulked. It was only Sunday lunch.
‘You know, it’s a bit early to start being really happy not to have to see your mother-in-law,’ Posy had said before they arrived.
‘She doesn’t like cooking for me,’ said Matt.
‘She doesn’t like cooking for anyone!’
Matt looked uncomfortable. ‘OK. Well then, I don’t really like the way she asked me if getting into sport was a way of not being in touch with my true feelings, and distracting myself from everyday life.’
‘Oh that,’ said Posy carelessly, picking up the nearest drink that came to hand. It really was a lethal punch.
‘The first time she met me.’
‘It’s kind of her job,’ said Posy, feeling awkward. It was OK for her and Fleur to complain about their mum, but she didn’t really like anyone else doing it.
‘Yes, well, I don’t ask her to hit the floor and give me twenty every time I see her, do I?’
‘You should do that,’ said Posy. ‘That might be good.’
Matt had pulled on his rugby shirt and looked up at her. Posy reflected once again how handsome and muscular he looked. He really was a catch.
‘She doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.’
Posy sighed. They were going to be late if they were going to fall out about it.
‘That’s not true,’ she explained patiently. ‘She doesn’t think marriage is good enough for me.’
‘And how is that different?’
‘Can we no
t argue about my crazy mother?’
Matt kissed her. ‘OK, calm down. I didn’t say your mother was crazy, that was you.’
‘No, but you didn’t correct me either, just now, when I said it.’
Matt held his hands up in defeat. ‘OK, OK, I give in.’
Sure enough, it had gone about as well as she’d expected. Her mother had even asked him if he’d read Freud, for goodness’ sake. That was just being vindictive.
Matt came over to her beckoning hand.
‘Hello, Mum,’ he said now. Posy closed her eyes.
‘Jonquil will be fine,’ said Jonquil. ‘Or Doctor Fairweather, if you must.’
Matt glanced at Posy.
‘I believe I must,’ he said. Posy gritted her teeth and took another slug of her punch. This was turning into an extremely long evening.
She glanced round. She’d asked her mum to ask her dad but it didn’t look like he was going to show. Which was fine, of course it was. After all, he’d missed just about everything else, and if he turned up now, Jonquil would probably start chucking stuff at him anyway. Far better not to have to bother about that at least. Marian had sent a card, but she’d barely glanced at it.
‘I see he isn’t here,’ said Jonquil, annoyingly chiming with Posy’s thoughts. Even though they’d been divorced for over twenty years, he was still he. Jonquil lowered her voice to what she thought was a whisper, although, it being Jonquil, it was still about one hundred decibels.
‘Shows what he thinks of marriage, darling.’
‘Fleur!’ shouted Posy. ‘Can you get Mum a drink, please?’
As Fleur languidly disengaged herself from a crowd of admirers (being watched beadily by Posy’s older friends, lining the bar and drinking absurdly huge glasses of wine) and sashayed over, Posy decided that a huge glass of wine was exactly what she needed. She joined her friends with relief, who escorted her over to the low cosy banquettes at the back.
‘How did you manage it, Posy?’ asked Shell, her old flat-mate. ‘You were always such a mess with blokes.’
‘I wasn’t!’ said Posy.
‘You were! Remember Adam?’
‘Forget about Adam.’
‘And what about that other bloke?’ said Joyce from the office. ‘Who you were so nuts on nobody saw you for a year and a half.’
Posy stiffened and took a long draught from her wine glass.
Leah came careering over, obviously completely pissed.
‘Did she tell you what she’s doing?’
‘No!’ said the girls. ‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ said Posy. ‘I’m getting married.’
‘She’s looking up her ex-boyfriends!’ gabbed Leah. ‘She’s tracking them down through Facebook! To say goodbye before she gives it all up.’
‘No way!’ said Joyce, looking respectful. ‘Wow. Giving them a second chance?’
‘It’s not like that,’ said Posy.
‘It is, too,’ said Leah. ‘She even went up to see one in Scotland. Well, come on, Posy, it’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’re settling for Matt - he teaches gym, for Christ’s sake.’
Posy glanced around. Her mother was by the bar talking to Fleur and looking annoyed. Gavin was sitting on his own in the corner, tears pouring down his face. One of the girls from the office had forced herself on one of Matt’s friends, and they were snogging by the door. The noise levels had reached insane levels. Everyone else was yapping obliviously. Couldn’t they see this was awful, a total disaster? What were they all talking about anyway? The two of them and how badly matched they were? Could this get worse?
‘SPEECH!’ shouted Leah.
‘No way,’ said Posy.
‘No, I mean, I’m going to make a speech.’
‘How much wine have you had?’
‘SOME!’
‘Please, please don’t.’
But it was too late. Leah had already stood up on a chair and was wobbling about a bit. She clapped her hands. The room went silent. Posy felt her heart in her mouth.
Leah looked around the room. ‘Welcome, everyone,’ she said loudly, ‘to Posy and Matt’s party!’
Posy felt very exposed, like she should be standing next to Matt and they should have their arms around each other, but he was miles away, trapped behind Mr Headingly on the far wall. She grimaced at him.
‘Now those of us who know Posy thought she would never get married.’
Posy could hear her mother tutting and dropped her head in her hands.
‘After those losers, some better-looking than others.’ Leah paused for laughter. There was none. ‘So thank fuck she’s met someone who’ll put up with her!’
There was scattered applause at this. Posy could see the gym girls sneering. Oh God.
‘OK, so her mum is very snotty about a P.E. teacher, but I think she’s wrong about that.’
Posy could feel her mum stiffen across the room.
‘Matt is a totally fantastic bloke, Posy doesn’t know how lucky she is. Why she’s haring off all round the country looking up her ex-boyfriends is a complete mystery to me.’
Posy’s heart stopped in her chest. Matt was staring at her from the other side of the room, and she at him, but she couldn’t make a sound come out of her mouth. Neither could he. The whole party was silent, just staring at them now. Leah fell off the chair and Fleur darted forward to pick her up.
Quietly and steadily, light on his trainered feet, Matt backed away. As he left the room, Posy unfroze and dived after him out into the February night. It was freezing. Every shop window was festooned with red hearts advertising Valentine’s Day. The street outside the bar was quiet and empty, just the two of them, although Posy could already hear their friends clattering down the stairs.
‘MATT!’ she screamed.
He turned towards her. In the street lights, she thought she could see a tear sparkling off his face. It couldn’t be, surely.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Don’t . . . that was just Leah spouting shit. It was total rubbish. Total crap.’
‘I know what your friends and family think of me,’ said Matt.
‘But I don’t think that,’ said Posy. ‘Isn’t that the important thing?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Matt. ‘Did you go to Scotland and see your ex-boyfriend?’
Posy paused. ‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘You told me you were looking for a venue for our wedding and you went to see an ex-boyfriend?’
‘Yes, but . . . not that one.’
He let out a guffaw. ‘Oh, well, that’s all right then. As long as it wasn’t that one - the one you really like.’
‘No! Matt, no, it’s not—’
He held up his hand. ‘I think that’s all I need to know, don’t you?’
Chapter Twelve
Posy is totally over so-called friends.
Comment: Like.
Leah Kone: I’m SO sorry. PLEASE pick up.
Leah had been beside herself, she really had. What was meant to be a light-hearted speech about Posy and Matt getting together had gone horribly, horribly wrong. She’d called a million times until finally Posy had turned her phone off.
Posy had caught another cab back but when she went in Matt was curled up in bed, either truly asleep or pretending. She’d stared at the laptop, but managed to resist it. Surely, surely, surely they could sort this out in the morning. She’d undressed and clambered into bed, aware of the warm, solid feel of him there. It felt good. She stretched out her arms and he squeezed away from her, as far in the bed as he could get. It would be better in the morning; it must. She’d get up early - very unlike her. Get breakfast. Suggest they do something energetic, like a jog or a brisk country walk. He’d like that, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t he? Every time she thought about the previous evening, her head wanted to burst with embarrassment. All of those people thinking those things . . . But she wasn’t. Was she? Was she? What was wrong with her?
In the morning she trailed out to the coffee
shop, feeling as if a huge cloud of gloom was sitting on her shoulders. Her phone rang again.
‘Hello?’
‘Posy? Posy, I am so, so sorry.’
Posy paused, filling her coffee with sugar. ‘Did you write that speech?’ she said carefully. ‘Did you plan to say all that?’
‘No! I just . . . I was pissed and I thought it would be funny.’
‘Hilarious. But then, I suppose it’s only what you’ve been saying to me all along.’
‘I feel awful,’ said Leah. ‘Awful. Please tell me you’ve made up and it’s all fine.’
‘Well, he’s not talking to me yet,’ said Posy. ‘But I am getting him breakfast. And . . . and of course I did lie to him about Scotland.’
‘I was just jealous,’ said Leah bitterly. ‘I just . . . I just can’t understand why you’d jeopardise what you have.’
‘Well, I suppose you’re right,’ said Posy. ‘I know it’s an odd thing to have done. I just hope he understands.’
‘Me, too. He will, Posy. It’ll be fine. He’ll understand.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Course he will, he loves you to bits.’
‘Yes,’ said Posy, feeling slightly more optimistic. ‘Yes, yes, he does, doesn’t he?’ She rotated her engagement ring thoughtfully.
‘Come see me later, please, I’ll take you out.’
‘I hope not,’ said Posy. ‘With any luck Matt and I will be staying in bed all day.’
‘I have Starbucks,’ she announced loudly, entering the flat and realising how husky and hungover her voice sounded. It wasn’t good. But Matt still wasn’t moving out of the bed.
‘What?’ she said, feeling a clutch of fear at her chest. ‘Matt, please. Can you wake up and talk to me? I know you’re not asleep.’
Matt sighed.
‘Look, can you just turn round?’ said Posy. She rubbed the corrugated cardboard of the cup between her fingers. Suddenly she didn’t want coffee at all, even though her mouth was suddenly, desperately dry.
Matt did. Posy’s hopes had been raised after chatting with Leah - he’d realise it was just silly drunk talk - but he did look terribly miserable.
‘Leah just called. She’s really really sorry for talking all that rubbish, and—’