by Adale Geras
Zannah was standing next to the window. Joss blinked, and couldn’t think of a word to say. Her daughter was beautiful: ethereal and delicate in a dress that draped her body and fell elegantly to mid-calf. She saw lace, edged with more lace; flowers and butterflies hidden in the pattern; tiny pearls scattered around the square neckline, around the hem, and the edges of the sleeve. The dress was still pinned in places; one of the sleeves hadn’t yet been set in but Joss could see how it would be. It was the perfect dress for Zannah. Joss said, ‘It’s … it’s completely amazing. D’you like it? Are you happy? Is it what you imagined?’
‘Better. Miss Hayward has made it even better than I’d hoped it would be. Isn’t it fabulous? And look … here’s the headdress – a ‘fascinator’ – it’ll be done up with my hair … kind of wrapped round it. Em, what d’you think? Icey?’
‘You’re dead pretty, Mum!’ Isis said. She’d been standing quite still by the door, her mouth open in astonishment, but when Zannah spoke, she ran to touch the dress, to look at it more closely.
Em was smiling. She said, ‘I dunno. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have had a Maureen Meringue? I’m kidding, you idiot,’ she added, seeing the look of horror on Zannah’s face. ‘You couldn’t possibly have a better dress. Fantastic. Honestly. I love it. You’ll be … You are … Well, there’s nothing to say except: wow!’
‘What about me, Mrs Hayward?’ Isis said, bouncing up and down with excitement. ‘Can I try my dress on too?’
‘Of course. Here it is. Just take off what you’re wearing and we’ll see what you look like.’
She held up a hanger with one of the bridesmaid’s dresses on it. The green of the fabric was the exact colour of milky jade. ‘The other little girl … Gemma? Is she going to come for a fitting soon?’
‘Yes,’ said Zannah. ‘I’ll bring both girls in next week. But I’m afraid Isis couldn’t wait … ’
‘Perfectly understandable,’ said Miss Hayward. ‘Now, slip this on, dear. Remember that it’s not trimmed. You can help me choose the right decorations next time you come. I’ve got a whole drawer full of pretty things you can look at.’ She was pinning the dress together at the back as she spoke. ‘Of course, on the day, you’ll have little buttons here, and not pins.’
Isis went to gaze into the full-length mirror. Her eyes widened as she took in the full glory of the taffeta, the rustle of it, the sheen, and the frilly edges of the sleeves. She let out a breath and sighed with pleasure. ‘It’s … it’s like soooo cool! I can’t wait to show Gemma. Is there going to be a ribbon here?’ She pointed to the waist of the dress.
‘Yes,’ said Miss Hayward. ‘And a ribbon trim on the sleeves with perhaps some tiny satin roses. What do you think?’
‘Roses! Yes, please. Oh, I wish it was the wedding tomorrow.’
‘But if it was tomorrow,’ said Miss Hayward, ‘the dresses wouldn’t be ready. Now stand very still and I’ll put pins in to show me where the hem should be.’
While Isis was having her skirt pinned up, Joss moved to where Zannah was standing near the window. She leaned forward to whisper in her ear. ‘You look so beautiful, Zannah. And so does Isis. It’s going to be a lovely wedding.’
She and Em went downstairs to wait for Zannah and Isis to change and join them.
‘We’ll have to start thinking,’ Joss said ‘about what we’re going to wear.’
‘You should consult with Zannah,’ said Emily. ‘She’s often said she’d like to dress you up.’
‘Really? She’s never told me that.’ Joss wondered what Zannah would advise. She was willing to allow her a reasonably free hand, but they’d have to find out first what Maureen was intending to wear. As though she’d been reading her thoughts, Em said, laughing, ‘We’ll have to find out about Maureen first, though, won’t we? I wouldn’t put it past her to go for something like brocade. She’ll look like a very smart sofa.’
‘Now now, she’s not fat, you know,’ Joss smiled.
‘No, she’s not, but she’s well-upholstered. Like I said: a sofa.’
Joss smiled but she didn’t want to think about Maureen. She knew exactly where such thoughts always led, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to grieve for what she had lost. Not on a day like this, at a time like this. Pretend he doesn’t exist, she thought, not even letting his name come into her head. Think of Zannah. Think how happy Isis is with her outfit. Concentrate on the good things. The dress. The lovely, lovely dress.
Friday
‘I’ve spoken to Charlie,’ said Edie, ‘and he’s happy to have me and Val stay overnight on the Friday. And he’ll drive us to the church in good time for the wedding.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Charlotte. ‘I don’t like turning you out of your rooms, but if Zannah’s in the big spare bedroom, Em in the small one, then Joss and Bob can go in your room, Edie, and Gemma and Isis in yours, Val.’
‘Of course,’ Val said. ‘You can’t have them coming from North London on Saturday morning. Too much could go wrong. Very kind of your Charlie, Edie, I must say.’
They were sitting at the kitchen table after lunch. Outside, a thin, late January sun was struggling through the clouds and the back lawn was dotted with the first purple and yellow crocuses. Charlotte said, ‘There’s going to be a Wedding Summit at the beginning of March. Maureen calls it that. She’s sent me all the catering details. She is an extremely efficient and organized woman. If a little tiring.’
‘The whole thing,’ said Val, ‘is running well up to now.’
‘Throw salt over your shoulder or something, Val,’ said Edie. ‘That’s tempting Fate.’
Charlotte nodded. ‘I’m pleased there’s been no panic so far, I must admit. They came over yesterday to look at the garden and apparently there’s plenty of room for our portable loos. They will, I’m promised, be “of the highest possible standard”.’
‘Not then, bog standard … such a relief,’ said Val, and laughed at her double pun. ‘By the way,’ she added, ‘I’ve been in touch with Maya, the flower lady, and she and Zannah have discussed the colour of the bouquet roses. And the foliage. She wants pale leaves to match the green of the bridesmaids’ dresses. Maya’s coming to the church on the Friday afternoon to oversee the flowers in there, and she’s promised to be here in plenty of time on the Saturday morning, with the bouquets, buttonholes and table arrangements. She wants them to be as fresh as possible but it’ll mean an early start, I’m afraid. Six o’clock. I’ve said I’ll be up to help her. No need for anyone else to be disturbed.’
‘I’m sure Zannah’ll be wide awake,’ Charlotte said. ‘Em too, probably, with all the excitement. And the hairdresser’s arriving at nine. Everyone can help themselves to breakfast in here. The caterers bring everything they need, Maureen says, and won’t bother us in the kitchen.’
‘Where are the Ashtons staying? And Adrian?’ Edie asked.
‘At the Savoy,’ Charlotte said. ‘Adrian’s stag night’ll be the weekend before the wedding, I believe. He and some friends are off to the Highlands for a party, Zannah says.’
‘What about Zannah? Is she having a hen night?’ Edie smiled.
‘Emily’s taking her and two friends to a spa in the country. A very luxurious one, apparently. They’re going to have beauty treatments and different sorts of bath and end the day with a lovely dinner.’
‘How many kinds of bath can there possibly be?’ Val looked bemused.
‘You’d be amazed,’ said Charlotte. ‘Em showed me the brochure. Hammam tubs, which are a kind of oriental bath, I believe. Jacuzzis. Spring water. Plus things like hot stones, saunas, steam rooms and facials. And there’s a swimming-pool, of course.’
‘And who,’ said Val, ‘is paying for that?’
‘They all pay their own way. That’s how it’s done, I’m told. I suspect Bob’s helping Em, but I didn’t enquire too closely.’
Edie stood up. ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘Choir practice. I have to check with the organist about the music.’ She t
apped her handbag. ‘I’m going to give him the list Bob sent.’
‘And I’m off to the garden. Things to be done there.’ Val followed Edie out and Charlotte was left alone. The wedding arrangements were under control, but she was less certain about Joss’s state of mind. She hadn’t seen her since the beginning of January, when she’d visited to report on how beautiful the dress was. She hadn’t stayed long. It seemed to Charlotte that she’d lost weight and she could ill afford to. She looked drawn. Older. They hadn’t been able to talk properly, but Joss did the dishes after lunch and Charlotte volunteered to dry. Edie and Val disappeared in a suspiciously prearranged way and when they were alone, Charlotte had asked her, ‘Are you bearing up, darling?’
Joss had paused before she answered. ‘Bearing up describes it, I think. I try to keep busy. I do a lot of late nights at the library.’
‘Are you writing?’
‘A little. Not as much as I’d like. Not the sort of thing I’d like to be writing either. I’m all right, Charlotte.’
‘You’re very thin, dear. Are you sure you’re not neglecting yourself?’
‘No, really. I just … ’
She stood with her hands plunged in the soapy water. Charlotte longed to put an arm round her shoulders. At Christmas, she’d told her that the pain would ease. That things would get better. Now, she was almost sure they were worse. She’d hesitated before asking, ‘Have you heard from Graham?’
Joss shook her head and turned away quickly, so that Charlotte couldn’t see her face. Were those tears in her eyes?
They’d changed the subject and since then, all the phone calls and emails had been, Charlotte thought, deliberately cheerful and upbeat. Joss was doing her best to give the impression that everything was fine, but she didn’t fool her aunt for a second.
FEBRUARY/MARCH
Saturday
‘Can’t paint sunsets any more,’ said Zannah. ‘Can’t write poems about them either. Or about the moon.’
‘Why not?’ Adrian, she could tell from the way he asked the question, was paying more attention to following the path down the gentle slope towards their hotel than to what she was saying. He probably wasn’t even expecting a proper answer, but Zannah said, ‘They’ve become clichés. It would take a real genius to tackle a subject like that. I think so, anyway.’
Adrian smiled over his shoulder at her. ‘Never mind. Just enjoy the view. And in a few minutes you’ll be gazing at a very beautiful gin and tonic’
They walked along together without speaking. Dusk was falling and the Cotswolds were already shrouded in mist. The sky was darkening to mauve and the first stars were out. Even though it was February and spring was supposed to be just round the corner, it was cold and their breath curled into white mist in front of their faces. Zannah sighed.
‘Is anything wrong? You sound … well, a bit down, darling.’
She laughed. ‘No, I’m fine. I was just feeling … I was missing Isis, actually.’
‘Not seriously?’ Adrian laughed. ‘I’d have thought if anything, you’d be getting ready to miss me. I’m the one who’s off to the States for a fortnight on Monday morning.’
‘Of course I’ll miss you too, but it’s not the same thing. Isis is … much younger, for one thing. And besides, for the last eight years I’ve spent practically my whole waking life with her. For most of that time, I was on my own. When she was little, she drove me mad some of the time, but I’m used to being with her.’
‘But she’s not little any longer, is she? She’s getting on for nine. And I should think you’d be glad not to have to worry about her for a bit.’ He added magnanimously, ‘I expect her other granny’s enjoying having her to stay for half-term. And her dad. And you, my darling, deserve a combined birthday and pre-Valentine’s Day treat.’
‘That’s lovely of you. She does get on my nerves sometimes and I know I get cross with her, but I’m always glad to see her when I pick her up.’
They were nearly there. The windows of the hotel shone a yellow light into the gathering darkness at the end of the tree-lined drive. The gravel crunched under their feet. Then Adrian stopped and reached for her hand. He said, ‘Darling, it’s probably not a good time to raise this, but it’s been on my mind for a bit and as we’re on the subject … ’
‘What subject?’
‘Isis. I want to talk about Isis. Well, you and Isis, really.’
Zannah felt faint. She thought, maybe I should have brought some Kendal Mint Cake out with me. I expect it’s hunger that’s making me weak. She said, ‘Isis and I are fine, Adrian. I just said I’d be glad to see her again. That’s all.’
‘I think you’re a bit … I think she’s too dependent on you and you’re too dependent on her. Not good for either of you.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I think Isis should be learning to … separate herself from you a little.’
‘Separate?’
‘Well, obviously not separate in that sense. Of course not. I don’t mean that. It’s very important for children to have close ties with their parents, I know, but still, I reckon it’d do her a world of good to go to boarding school. Jon and I both went and we loved it, as you know. I think it she’d love it, too.’
There was a bench under one of the trees along the drive. Zannah walked towards it and sat down. Adrian came after her and sat beside her. He said, ‘Zannah, don’t be angry for God’s sake. I’m thinking of Isis’s welfare. Truly. And our lives together. Just give it a bit of thought, that’s all I’m asking. Nothing more at this stage. You probably think boarding schools are for older children, but there’re plenty of junior ones as well. Paul Claythorpe’s kid goes to one near Haslemere and she loves it. Made fabulous friends. Goes on amazing trips. It’s incredible. Really. Isis’d have a great time. And our sprogs, too, when they’re old enough.’
Zannah knew that if she spoke at once, she would regret it. She sat and stared at her knees. One of Em’s presents for Isis at Christmas had been a bag full of plastic strings to weave into bracelets. She’d had good fun with them, but the last time Zannah saw them, they were all tangled up in the bottom of a carrier bag in her cupboard, a mess of fluorescent colours like thousands of thin worms twisted up together. That’s what my head’s like, she thought. I don’t know what I think any more. Does Adrian understand the meaning of what he’s just said?
‘Adrian,’ she said at last, ‘I’m going to ask you something. Please answer me honestly. Okay?’
He nodded.
‘Is this about getting Isis out of the way? This boarding school stuff? Tell me I’m wrong. Please tell me I’ve got it entirely wrong.’
‘You have and you haven’t. Didn’t I just say that I’d like our kids to go too? You can’t say I’m wanting a boarding-school education for Isis because she’s not mine. But you’ve asked me to be honest, so I’m going to be. And please, Zannah, don’t bite my head off, right?’ He rubbed his hands together.
We ought to have worn gloves, Zannah thought. It’s so cold. I’m cold all over.
‘Right. Okay. I can’t pretend I’m a hundred percent happy about living with another man’s child. Much as I like Isis … that’s got nothing to do with it. Only, I feel that … well, I reckon we need a balance between time we have with Isis and time we have on our own. There’s nothing wrong with that, surely?’
‘You’re saying you’d rather she lived somewhere other than with us, is that right?’
‘Well, not lived, perhaps. Just maybe spent a bit more time with her dad. Or, as I said, at boarding school. I know Cal’s often out of the country.’
‘I don’t want to hear “boarding school” again, Adrian. I mean it. I’m not sending my daughter away and that’s that. I’m also not sending away any children we have. D’you understand? Promise me you won’t say another word on the subject.’
‘God, Zannah, don’t get so shirty. There’s no harm in discussing it, surely?’
She stood up and shouted, ‘There is
harm! I suppose you think you’re talking about education but you’re not. You want to be rid of Isis. I don’t know how I didn’t see that before. You wish she wasn’t around. You’ve been so happy these last couple of days, much happier than you ever are in London and I thought it was me, but it wasn’t. It was Isis not being here. That’s what makes you happy. Deny it – go on! Say I’m wrong. Say it!’
‘I do like being alone with you! And I don’t deny it – why should I? I love you and I like being together without having to worry about the needs of a child, who, let’s face it, has been spoilt rotten. She’s had nothing but total love and attention from you since the day she was born.’
‘That’s what she’s meant to have!’ Zannah yelled. ‘She’s my daughter. What else am I supposed to give her if not unconditional and total love and care always? And I do not spoil her. How can you say that? She is not spoilt. She’s normal, and I should know – I’m a teacher, for God’s sake. D’you want to know what your problem is? Because I’ll tell you. YOU’RE the child. You have to be the centre of attention. You have to get any unconditional love that’s around. It’s because your mother’s made you believe you’re king of the world. I haven’t noticed you objecting to her total obsession with you. You just can’t bear the competition.’
She walked away from him very quickly, seeing nothing, stumbling in the darkness. Tears sprang into her eyes. Could they ever recover from this? How would they make it up after what they’d said to one another? How was she going to marry him now? Live with him for the rest of her life? And would he still want to marry her? She wasn’t going to compromise where Isis was concerned. Adrian would have to take back every single word. Would she be able to believe his apologies? She knew he would come after her full of remorse, regret and blandishments. But even if I said I forgave him, could I really? One thing was certain: she’d never forget what he’d said. Another man’s child. That was the bottom line. That was what he thought in his deepest heart. If we have a child together, he’ll favour that child over Isis. There was no way in the world that wouldn’t happen. Adrian wouldn’t even bother to pretend that both children were equally loved. He’d told her often about how badly he and Doc, as he called him, had got on during his own childhood. Why did I think my lovely Isis would be one of the exceptions? One of the few children to be truly, truly loved by a step-parent? Because I love her so much, that’s why. But I’m a fool, Zannah told herself, as she went upstairs to their bedroom. Naïve and stupid.