by Adale Geras
Her future mother-in-law, to give her credit, did things in style. The house and garden were spectacular, and Zannah felt, that first time, as though she were being allowed to spend the weekend in a particularly gorgeous show home. The parquet floors, the rugs, the curtains – custom-made without a doubt and from fabrics that she could see were fiendishly expensive – the light-fittings, the tableware: everything looked as though it had only just been unpacked. In her parents’ house, most things looked as though they’d been used for years and years, which, of course, they had.
There weren’t all that many books in this show home, except for the ones in Graham Ashton’s study. Zannah had seen them as she passed the door a couple of times, crowding the shelves that lined one wide wall from floor to ceiling. Maureen’s taste, though, had spread even to this room, and the desk was state-of-the-art glass and steel, a far cry from her father’s scratched old brown wooden one, which, he always boasted, cost him only three pounds in an auction at Alderley Edge. And that’s just what it looks like, Dad, Emily used to say, smiling fondly at him.
‘D’you think I’m going to be bullied, darling?’ she said to Adrian, who was driving. He put out a hand and caressed her thigh briefly.
‘Nonsense. Mum just said it was ages since we’d been down. That’s true, isn’t it? And isn’t it super to be on our own for a whole weekend?’
‘Lovely,’ said Zannah. It was true: last night had been wonderful. They’d had dinner in a restaurant Adrian had discovered that did authentic Lebanese food, and then, full of red wine and baklava, they’d gone back to his flat and he’d made love to her passionately, tenderly. Then this morning, he’d got up early and brought her a croissant and a cup of coffee on a tray and they’d been late starting out for Guildford because one thing had led to another and then they’d had to clear the crumbs out of the bed and after that they both had to shower and now she felt as though she’d been in an especially energetic game of tennis: pleasantly relaxed in all her limbs and half asleep from the motion of the car. Suddenly, love for Adrian flooded her and she squeezed his thigh. It wasn’t going to be an ordeal at all, this weekend. Now that they were on their way, she was quite looking forward to it.
*
‘Where did you go on your walk, you two?’ said Maureen, topping up Zannah’s glass with a little more whisky.
‘Just round and about, you know,’ Adrian answered. ‘Nowhere special.’
‘The trees are so lovely, aren’t they? Did you go down Marlborough Drive?’
He nodded. ‘Think we did, as a matter of fact. Didn’t meet anyone you know, Mum.’
It’s no good, Maureen told herself. They’d been here for more than a day and would be going back up to town later this evening and she’d missed her chance. So much for letting them decide for themselves. They were obviously so much in love (and it was sweet to see Adrian like that, though she thought Zannah was a bit less keen … maybe just her mother’s antennae being oversensitive) that they’d walked right past the house she’d earmarked for them without noticing it. She took a deep breath. She was going to have to broach the subject herself. She said, ‘Did you notice a rather pretty little house, about halfway up Marlborough Drive?’
‘No,’ said Adrian. “Fraid not.’
‘We weren’t really looking at the houses. More at the leaves and trees,’ Zannah added.
‘I was just wondering … Have you two given any thought to where you’re going to live after you’re married?’
‘I was thinking about that just the other day,’ Adrian said. ‘I suppose we really ought to start looking for somewhere suitable. My flat’s too small.’
Zannah, Maureen noticed, said nothing but had begun to pick at one of the fringes on the silk shawl that she was wearing round her shoulders.
‘Wouldn’t it,’ Maureen said, speaking gently, ‘be a good idea if you found somewhere down here? You’d be able to get a transfer from the bank, I’m sure, Adrian, and Zannah, there’s never any problem about finding a job if you’re a teacher, is there? Think how lovely it will be for us to have you so close. I was quite sure you’d see that marvellous little house and fall madly in love with it … ’
‘Now Mum,’ said Adrian, ‘how many times have I explained to you that it’s not that kind of bank? Not the kind of place that would have a branch in Guildford. It’s an investment bank, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you know what that is?’
‘No, I don’t,’ said Maureen. ‘And I don’t care to. I’m just proud of you being so successful and I suppose I did know that your bank didn’t have a branch in Guildford, if I’d stopped to think. Still, it had slipped my mind. I would so love it if you could live a little closer to us, that’s all’
Graham said, ‘Don’t nag them, Maureen, about where they’re going to live and so on. They’re not even married yet … ’
‘And there’s the question of my job as well,’ said Zannah. ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly leave London … ’
‘Why ever not?’ said Maureen. ‘It’d be much better for your little girl. Cleaner air. Better schools. That sort of thing. And I don’t believe you’re so committed to your present school that you wouldn’t think of changing. And, besides, think how much safer it’d be … No danger of any policemen taking pot-shots at you here, like they did at that poor Brazilian man, and I’m sure bin Laden has no interest in bombing Guildford.’ She laughed to show that this last point was light-hearted. ‘Still, it’s all beside the point, as Adrian can’t leave his bank. Though lots of people commute, you know.’
‘It would be so awful … all that travelling every day! In any case, I wouldn’t take Isis away from her father. She sees little enough of him already,’ Zannah said. She looked more normal by now and spoke, Maureen noticed, calmly and pleasantly. ‘And I’m afraid I’m very happy at the school I’m at. I really wouldn’t want to uproot myself and go somewhere else. So sorry, Maureen, if it’s a big disappointment to you, but we’ll be staying in London.’
‘Right, well,’ Graham got up and made for the stairs, ‘must just write a couple of emails, I’m afraid. What time are you two setting off?’
‘About seven,’ said Adrian.
‘I’ll go and fix a little snack for you to have before you go,’ said Maureen, getting up and moving towards the kitchen. ‘You stay here and relax. Have another drink, Zannah. We’ll say no more about my little plan.’
Maureen knew, and had always known, about Adrian’s investment bank but things might change. There was nothing to say that a person had to stay in the same job for ever, was there? She’d planted the thought in Adrian’s head and now it must be left to grow there, like a seedling. If he could be persuaded, he might manage to change his fiancée’s mind in the fullness of time. All was a very long way from being lost.
*
‘Zannah? May I have a word?’
Zannah stepped into Graham Ashton’s study. He’d been waiting to speak to her, evidently, and had caught her going downstairs just after she’d finished packing.
‘We’ll be leaving in a minute, Graham,’ she said.
‘Come and sit down. I just wanted to say something before you go … ’
Adrian had persuaded her that quarrelling within earshot of his parents wasn’t a good idea. They could talk, he said, in the car. Zannah wasn’t looking forward to it. She looked round the study and admired a couple of watercolours on one wall. A silver laptop lay open on the desk and next to it … Was it? Could it be? Yes, it was. The Shipwreck Café. How surprising people were, she thought. She said, ‘I see you’ve got my mother’s book. I didn’t know you liked poetry.’
‘I love it,’ he said and, most astonishingly, blushed scarlet. He had fair skin and darkish brown hair, and Zannah was surprised to see him so flustered. Perhaps he thought liking poetry was something to be ashamed of. Lots of men did. He collected himself and said, ‘I do like it. I even write a little, though I don’t often talk about it. Not as well as your mother of course. She’s ver
y … very accomplished.’
He sat at his desk and smiled at her. Maureen was lucky, Zannah thought. He was a lovely-looking man for someone of his age and she felt sure that any patient who saw him in the operating theatre would immediately feel better. She smiled back. What on earth did he want? He said, ‘I just thought I should say, don’t worry about Maureen. She gets these ideas. I could see you weren’t a bit happy about the moving to Guildford thing and you mustn’t let yourself be bullied. That’s it, really. I hope you don’t think I’m interfering, but I just think you should … well, you have to see to it that you’re happy, even though it might seem selfish. It’s important that you two are unanimous about decisions like this. Maureen has … well, she has quite an influence on her son and people can decide to change jobs. Don’t let yourself do something you’ll regret, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘I hope Maureen doesn’t think I’m against her ideas on principle? And it’s really nice to talk to you about it.’
‘I’ll have a word with her when you’ve gone, and she’ll move on to something else in no time. She’s good at that.’
As he spoke, Graham’s right hand stroked the cover of her mother’s book from time to time, as though it were a small pet. She caught his eye and he blushed again. ‘It’s such a beautiful cover, isn’t it? I hope it wins the Madrigal Prize. The shortlisting must be a great feather in your mother’s cap, I should think.’
‘Yes, she’s thrilled about it,’ said Zannah, and stood up. ‘We should get on our way now, I think. I’ll go and find Adrian.’
‘I’ll come too. Wave you off.’ He stood up and followed her out of the room.
All that blushing … Perhaps he was a secret fan of Ma’s without telling her. I’ll phone her tomorrow and let her know she has a secret admirer, Zannah thought. She’ll be so pleased.
*
‘Okay, okay,’ said Adrian. ‘I give up. I’m not going to pursue it, right? I promise. I’ll phone my mum tomorrow and let her know, though God knows, Zannah, why you’ve taken against the idea in this completely demented way.’
‘Demented? Me?’ Zannah could scarcely believe what she was hearing. From the moment they’d left the Ashtons, they’d done nothing but yell at one another. At one point, Zannah had made him stop the car in a lay-by because she couldn’t trust herself not to become hysterical and she knew that would make Adrian careless as he drove. ‘It’s you. You’ve come to your senses. I thought you’d taken final leave of them. Guildford, honestly.’
‘What’s so terrible about Guildford? As far as I can see the only disadvantage would be the commuting because, of course, I can’t leave the bank and wouldn’t want to, but from all other points of view, I reckon it wouldn’t be a bad move.’
‘Your job, my job, the whole thing’s senseless. It’s just one of your mum’s hare-brained schemes.’
As soon as the words were out, Zannah regretted them. You could think whatever you wanted about someone’s mother, but you never told them. Even when they weren’t that keen on their mums, blokes hated other women slagging them off and Adrian, far from not thinking much of Maureen, reckoned she was the model to whom other women should aspire. She added, quickly, ‘I don’t mean that. She has very good ideas usually, Adrian, but this giving up of my job and moving to some dinky little establishment down there … I’d hate it.’
‘What’s so special about St Botolph’s? I thought you might give up work altogether after a bit. Certainly after we start having children.’
Zannah turned to look at Adrian’s profile, and was relieved to discover that at least he was still as handsome as he’d always been, because he was suddenly saying things that he’d never even hinted at in the months that they’d been together. She took a deep breath and struggled to sound loving and reasonable. ‘Darling, of course I’m not giving up my work when we have children. There’s a very good crèche attached to St Botolph’s, which is one reason I like the school so much. Plus it’s convenient for the flat.’
‘Ah, but we won’t be living there, will we? You know that. In fact, now that you’ve put the kibosh on Guildford, we ought to get ourselves sorted as far as houses are concerned. I’ll make a few enquiries. No reason we can’t view places now, is there?’
Zannah shook her head. There was no reason at all and any other bride would be eager, thrilled to look for a house to share with her new husband. And I am, I am, Zannah thought. It’ll be great. I can decorate it from scratch and make it just the way I want it. Why was it, then, that thinking of the flat, her little studio up that flight of stairs, the views out of the kitchen window, she already felt something like sadness at the prospect of leaving it? It wasn’t even as though she’d lose the place altogether. Em would still need somewhere to live and she could get friends in to share. I could still visit, Zannah thought. It wouldn’t be the same, but maybe it would be better. I’m just suffering from wedding nerves. Wedding nerves are real. Everyone says so. She leaned back against the seat and fell into a light sleep as Adrian drove through the darkness towards London.
*
Isis asked, ‘Will Mummy be here when I get up in the morning?’
Emily had come home early so that she could be in the flat when Cal arrived to drop Isis off and now she was sitting at the end of her niece’s bed. They’d just finished a takeaway pizza which Emily had hoped Cal might stay and share, but he’d had to hurry off, almost before he’d got there. There was something about Sunday evenings that was almost tangible: a sort of dread and heaviness left over from the days when you didn’t want to get up on Monday morning for school. She said, ‘Yes, they’re driving back now. She’ll be here in a couple of hours. She’s sure to come in and give you a kiss. She always does.’
‘I’ll be asleep,’ Isis said. ‘But tell her she has to anyway.’
‘Okay. And I have to give you a kiss from Grandma and one from Grandpa. They really loved the pictures you sent them.’
She kissed Isis three times, tucked the duvet round her shoulders and left the room. Down in the kitchen, she threw away the pizza box and washed up the glasses they’d used. Ma had been in a funny mood over the weekend, Emily thought, and wondered if Zannah would be up to discussing it when she came back. Probably not. She’d be full of Maureen stories and if Emily was honest with herself, she was quite keen to know how the weekend chez Ashton had been. What, in any case, could she tell her sister that would convey the impression she’d had of their mother’s state of mind? She seemed to be … well, not quite in the same world as the rest of them. There’d been a couple of occasions when Emily had had to say something two or three times before getting her attention, as though her mother’s mind had been on something completely different. During meals, while Pa had told amusing stories of his time in Egypt, Ma sat there smiling, not hearing a word, Emily was quite sure. Once or twice, she’d wandered into the study while Ma had been sitting in front of her open laptop and she’d had the distinct impression that some file or other was very quickly shut down. Once she even joked about it. Bet you’re playing Patience, Ma, she’d said. We’ve got people in my office like you. Ma had blushed and mumbled something about work. Could be true, but still, Emily had left her parents’ house feeling that all was not quite as it had been through her childhood. For one thing, Pa never really talked about anything of real interest to Ma any longer. Had it always been like this, with her and Zannah just not noticing? I’ll ask Zannah what she thinks, Emily resolved, and settled down to watch 24 on Sky One.
NOVEMBER/DECEMBER/JANUARY
Friday
There wasn’t, Maureen reflected, all that much time left till the Day, which was what she called the wedding. This year, though, she didn’t have Christmas to think about, which in one way was a blessing but in another was rather a shame. It would have been so lovely to have Adrian, Zannah and Isis, too, down to Guildford to celebrate with them but Graham had arranged the trip to South Africa to see Jonathan ages ago and at the time, Maureen had been thrilled to bit
s. Even now, when part of her longed to have the pleasure of the preparations, she was feeling quite excited about getting together a whole lot of super new outfits and shoes for a warm climate. There was something extra pleasant about doing this when the weather was cold. And of course, they’d be with darling Jonathan, whom she loved with a passion. It was ages since they’d seen him.
Maureen had never told anyone that Adrian was her favourite but she’d have bet her bottom dollar that many mothers were in exactly the same position. For instance, she was sure Zannah was her mother’s favourite. Emily was a daddy’s girl if ever she’d seen one and it didn’t take a genius to see that Graham loved his own son a great deal more than he loved Adrian. Actually, she didn’t think he loved Adrian at all. He used to tell her he did, in the old days, at the beginning of their relationship, but that was to keep her happy, she was convinced of it. She was pretty sure that love had never been a part of what Graham felt for her son and Adrian made no secret of not having much time for his stepfather. It’s to my credit, Maureen thought, that they’ve arrived at some kind of truce that enables us to rub along together well enough.
Next year, she told herself, I’ll make sure they all come here and it will be so good to have a child in the house. She’d already made a note to email Zannah and find out what Isis wanted for Christmas. A gift from her and Graham, most beautifully wrapped, would have to be sent with the other presents to the Gratrix house, where the whole family was gathering. How on earth would Joss manage? No one would call her one of the world’s natural hostesses. Maureen made a note to herself on a nearby pad to research presents for Isis. She was quite out of touch with what was de rigueur for eight-year-olds, and as she was going to be Isis’s honorary granny, it was time she got her act together.
A granny … She sat up straighter and looked down at her hands, still mercifully unspotted, apart from a small outcrop of brown marks that were, frankly, more like freckles than what they rather chillingly called grave spots, just near the thumb. Was she ready to be a granny? Even an honorary one? Well, there was nothing to be done about it. Isis would be, to all intents and purposes, Adrian’s daughter, so she’d just have to get used to it. Perhaps it was not too much to wish for that by the time they came to her next year, Zannah would be carrying her son’s baby … How divine that would be!