by Adale Geras
Saturday
‘Tea?’
‘Thanks … yes.’
Joss filled the kettle and waited for it to boil. For the last few months she’d been planning to buy a new one because the noise this one made was getting on her nerves. Now she was grateful for the screeching and high-pitched gurgling that went on till the water boiled. Talking was out of the question. Joss made the tea and brought it to the table, where she deliberately took longer than usual to pour it and add milk.
‘There you are,’ she said. Bob was trying to hide behind the Guardian, which was harder now, since it had become smaller. Perhaps broadsheets could advertise themselves as being just the ticket for a tense breakfast table. She sat down and waited for Bob to say something. She could have spoken. She could have said, I haven’t slept a wink. I don’t know what to do. What’s going to become of us? but she was waiting to see what would happen if she didn’t. It had always been her task in the marriage to bring up awkward matters for discussion. And he, all through the years, had generally fled to the safety of his work, leaving her to deal with whatever it was. Not this time, Joss thought. Let him say what he’s decided. I’m not going to prompt him.
She’d just buttered a piece of toast when he spoke.
‘I’ve thought about our situation, Joss, and I’ve decided that this isn’t the right time to make major decisions about our life together … if we’re to have one. The wedding is a week from now and I don’t want anything to disturb the happiness of that day. I’m determined it will be wonderful for Zannah, Isis and Cal and therefore I’d ask you not to mention any of our … ’ He waved a hand. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘But you must know what you intend to do!’ Joss nearly hit him. How could he extend the uncertainty over a whole week? ‘I see you’re not bothered about whether I have a happy day at the wedding.’
‘To tell you the truth, Joss, I don’t care whether you do or not. I intend to enjoy myself as much as I can. I can’t deny that this … this development … has been a bit of a shock.’
‘But I’ve explained to you that it’s over. I haven’t seen Gray since November. It’s over, as far as you’re concerned.’
‘Ah!’ He bent forward over the table and banged his fist down so hard that the butter dish jumped. ‘Condemned out of your own mouth!’
‘What are you talking about? What have I said?’
‘You said: “as far as you’re concerned”. Now, call me pedantic if you like, but that means to me that it’s not over as far as you, Joss, are concerned. Am I right?’
What could she say? Should she lie? As she looked at Bob, red in the face with anger, a kind of stiff cold took hold of her. I don’t care any longer whether it’s what he wants to hear. She said, ‘Yes, you’re quite right. I’m not going to hide it from you. But I’m not going to act on it, so you don’t have to worry about that.’
‘I’m not worrying. But I’ll let you know in the next day or so what I’ve decided to do.’
‘Why not now? What’s the matter with right now?’ For God’s sake, she thought, let’s get this over with.
‘I’ve got to go. In case you’ve forgotten I’m giving a lecture at the conference.’
‘Nice to see that your domestic troubles won’t be interfering with that. I won’t be here when you get back. I’m going to London. I’ll phone Charlotte in a minute. There are rehearsals and fittings going on next week. Just let me know when you intend to get to Clapham. We’re sharing a room before the wedding, but that can’t be helped.’
‘I’ll ask Cal to book me in with him and Mattie. They’re in a hotel, aren’t they? Don’t want to embarrass you.’
Joss got up and left the room.
‘You’ve not finished your toast,’ he called after her.
She didn’t answer because if she had she’d have sworn at him in terms he’d never heard her use before. How did he dare to be so bossy, so calm, so unconcerned about everything? It was an act, she knew, but that didn’t make it any less irritating. He didn’t want to show her how hurt he was so she ought, perhaps, to be more indulgent towards him, but what she felt was something like rage. He knew she wanted, needed, to know what his intentions were. The possibility of a future with Gray was like a mirage, shining somewhere on a distant horizon. I won’t think that far ahead. I’ll put Gray out of my mind till the wedding is over. She wondered how she could concentrate on Zannah and Cal when everything she’d thought of as her life was in the process of being broken up and rearranged.
*
The Paradise Spa deserved its name. Zannah, Claire and Louise were lolling in the Jacuzzi. Tropical plants grew up to the blue-glass dome of the roof, and loungers covered with white towels of complete and utter megafluffiness were placed round the perimeter of the main pool. Emily slipped in next to the others, loving the foam, the warmth, the effervescence. ‘This is like sitting in a giant glass of Alka-Selzer,’ she said, ‘only hot. And always fizzy. Fantastic.’ She sank down and rested her head on the curved marble edge of the small pool.
‘We’ve driven everyone else away,’ said Louise. ‘D’you think they can tell we’re a hen party?’
‘It’s Em’s fault. She forgot to bring the little hats with Hen Night written on them in sparkly letters,’ said Zannah. ‘But we’re not pissed. No one would ever guess.’
‘I think,’ said Claire, ‘that the first toast at lunch … You did say champagne at lunch, didn’t you, Em?’
Emily nodded. Claire went on, ‘The first toast will be to Em who found this marvellous spa for us and showed us what a hen night can be if you forget about the night part of it. All-day pleasure, lovely food … Brilliant.’
‘I just thought,’ said Emily, ‘that if I had to suffer yet another pub crawl, I’d rather stay at home. This is my idea of Paradise, which was how I found it. I put Paradise Spa into Google.’
‘How many other kinds of pool do we still have to go in?’
‘Only three. Plunge pool, ordinary swimming-pool and Japanese pool with hot stone massage, and lunch of course. Don’t forget that … ’
‘Shame about the naked men,’ said Louise, ‘but even without them, it’s worth every penny.’
‘Don’t talk about money,’ said Zannah. ‘This must have cost you lot an absolute fortune.’
‘Yup. Thin soup for a month. My children’ll have to go without shoes till at least Christmas,’ said Claire.
‘This time next week,’ said Louise, ‘we’ll be in church, singing “Love Divine All Loves Excelling”. You nervous, Zan?’
‘Not really. I’ve been well rehearsed. I’ve got the dress at home and it’s better than I ever dreamed of. The food’s sorted and I’m not telling you what you’re getting. You’ll have to wait and see. Flowers’ll be okay. The photographer’s great and I’m secretly working on him to fall in love with you, Em.’
‘He’s not my type,’ Emily said. ‘And anyway, he’s married. With a baby. So think again.’ She was surprised by how genuinely happy she felt for Zannah and Cal now. Any last hope she might have had of herself and Cal coming together in a blissful distant future had long ago disappeared.
‘Damn!’ Zannah laughed. ‘Never mind. But no, I’m not a bit nervous. Excited, yes, but I think the nerves went out of weddings when the wedding night stopped being a terrifying ordeal. Can you imagine what that must have been like? Horrible. You’ve never seen a willy. You don’t know if it’s going to hurt. Will you do the things you’re supposed to do? Will he? I’d just die, if it was me. That’s the best thing about the sexual revolution, I reckon. The fact that you know what you’re doing. No alarms and no surprises.’
‘Speaking of which,’ said Claire, ‘do we assume that you and Cal …’
‘Me and Cal what?’ Zannah had started to giggle before she’d even heard the question.
‘Well,’ Claire hesitated.
‘She wants to know,’ said Louise, ‘if you and Cal have made love since you got together again. She’s a nosy bitch.�
��
‘I don’t think I’m going to answer that.’ Zannah whooshed her hands through the water.
‘Ah, go on!’ said Louise. ‘We haven’t got naked men on this hen night, but we can at least hear about your passionate reunion with your ex. Can’t we?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Zannah said. ‘Sorry.’
‘But it was passionate, wasn’t it?’ Claire asked.
‘Of course it was. What do you think? Use your imagination, for God’s sake. I’m not going to spell it out.’
‘And was it everything you’d hoped for?’ Louise was giggling.
‘More than. Now shut up, please.’ Zannah looked at her sister. ‘Can’t you make them behave a bit better, Em? I don’t want to talk about this, really.’
‘You’re not supposed to be well behaved on a hen night, you know,’ Emily said. ‘Still, as you’re my only sister, I’ll see what I can do.’ She had no desire to hear details. Just thinking about it embarrassed her. Being over Cal is one thing, Emily told herself. Dwelling on him and Zannah in one another’s arms is quite another.
Thursday
Zannah had a good idea of what was going on, but she pretended not to. It had been quite hard, over the last couple of weeks, to ignore the whispering and giggling and hiding of things behind backs whenever she came into a room. Today was her last day of teaching her classes. She’d been met at the school entrance by Claire and Louise who had taken her to the staff-room and told her to stay there till she was called. She sat down and looked at her wedding notebook, which was now so full of bits of paper Sellotaped to the pages that it no longer closed properly. Bills and letters were forever slipping into it and getting lost among the wedding stuff.
The head had been super-kind and given her tomorrow off to do things like going to the church to see the flowers were in order. Like talking to Genevieve the caterer about last-minute things. Like transporting the dresses and the rest of the paraphernalia to Clapham. Like reminding Cal to pick up his wedding suit. Zannah hoped very much she wouldn’t burst out laughing as she walked down the aisle towards him. When she’d gone with him to try it on, she didn’t quite recognize the man who stood in front of her, and she’d gasped to see him so respectable. He’d even arranged to have a haircut without being nagged. They’d fixed up accommodation for Cal’s mum and her cousin from St Ives and Cal’s childhood friends. Now they’d arrived, she had to check they were okay with where they were staying. Finding them beds had been a major operation. Cal had arranged it, rung up friends, booked b-and-bs, sorted them all out brilliantly. Still, however well organized you were, there was always the possibility of something going wrong.
Something was up already. Pa had decided to stay the night with Cal and Mattie at their hotel instead of at Charlotte’s. Why was that? Had he and Ma quarrelled? What about? She wanted to know but dreaded the answer, so she hadn’t mentioned it when she’d spoken to him. He’d sounded okay, but he was good at hiding things. I must speak to Ma tonight, she thought. She’d been at Charlotte’s since the weekend, but things had been so frantic that they hadn’t had more than a couple of hurried conversations and Ma was always hard to make out on the phone. You could never tell what sort of mood she was in.
Someone was knocking at the staff-room door.
‘Come in,’ Zannah said. Marcella and Colm from Year Six were standing there. Marcella said, ‘Please, Miss, can you come with us?’
They made their way to the hall and the children held open the doors for her. Zannah stepped in and there was the whole school, clapping and whooping. Everyone was dressed up in party clothes. The head said, ‘Ready, children?’ and then came the sound of the piano plinking out a few notes. Suddenly, they were all singing: ‘Happy Wedding to you!’ to the tune of Happy Birthday. … ‘Happy wedding, Mrs Ford, happy wedding to you!’
Everyone, Zannah could see instantly, had worked tremendously hard. All round the hall paper flowers in shades of pink, mauve and fuchsia were taped to the walls and to every bit of furniture. There were thousands and Zannah wondered, how long ago they had started to make them. The girls had pink bows in their hair and the boys had mauve ribbons worn as ties. Someone had been doing things with the office shredder and confetti in large quantities was being thrown at her, and when the singing was over, some of the little ones came running towards her and hugged her legs.
‘Thank you!’ she started to say.
‘We’ve got a present for you, Miss,’ That was Finn, one of Isis’s friends, almost hidden behind a bunch of pink and white roses. Marcella gave her an envelope, curtsying as she did so. Zannah’s eyes were full of tears. ‘I had no idea,’ she said. ‘This’ll be my best present, I know. You’re all … Well, it’s lovely of you to do this for me and I’m very grateful.’
‘You have to open it, Miss,’ Colm said. ‘You have to see what it is.’
She tore open the envelope. Inside, there was a voucher for four people to go on the London Eye and a music token for twenty-five pounds.
‘That is fantastic! I’ve been longing to go on the Eye … and I don’t know what I’ll buy with the token, but I bet you’ll all have your suggestions. Thank you so much. I’m … I’m so surprised by this!’
The head clapped her hands. ‘Now, children, line up please. The dinner ladies have made us a special wedding lunch. Mrs Ford? Will you lead the way, as you’re the bride?’
Zannah handed her flowers to Claire, who bore them off to the cloakroom, and set off for the school canteen, with Isis, Gemma, Finn, Marcella and Colm following close behind her. The confetti, it seemed, was never-ending. Pieces of coloured paper were still falling into her hair and all over her clothes.
THE WEDDING
Joss was so deep in thought that she didn’t see Zannah till she was standing next to her. She leaped to her feet, and Zannah said, ‘Ma? Is anything the matter? What on earth are you doing in the marquee at this hour of the night?’
‘I could ask you the same thing. You’re the bride, supposed to be getting your beauty sleep. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake. I couldn’t sleep and I wanted to have a look before … well, before tomorrow.’
‘Today. It’s after two. I’m the same. I wanted to see it while it was … I don’t know. Untouched. I’ll always remember it like this. It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Ma?’
‘Yes it is. I want everything to be perfect for you.’
‘But, Ma, what’s the matter with you? I’m not so selfish that I haven’t noticed you’ve been … well, not yourself. You’re not ill, are you? Please tell me it’s nothing like that.’
‘No, no, nothing like that at all.’ Joss put out a hand and touched her daughter’s shoulder, to comfort her. Even in this light, she could see that Zannah had turned white. ‘Let’s sit down. I did promise your father I wouldn’t say anything before the wedding but I think … ’
‘Say anything about what?’
‘Let’s sit down, darling.’
Zannah pulled out two of the chairs that had been brought in by the marquee men. The cloths were piled up on the buffet tables, waiting to be unfolded; the crockery and cutlery were lined up under muslin and there were baskets of sugared almonds beautifully wrapped in ribbon-tied bundles of silvery tulle waiting to be set out beside each plate. The flowers would be arriving at dawn. Joss sat down opposite her daughter. ‘I like the way this marquee looks in the dark,’ she said. ‘I like the emptiness and all this cream and gold. Tomorrow it’s going to be decorated and full of chattering people and noise and … Well, it’s good to see it before that happens.’
‘You’re making small-talk, Ma. Just tell me, okay?’
‘Your father had an email from Maureen. A horrible, horrible email.’
‘What did it say?’
‘Among other things, that I’d been screwing her husband for years. Which isn’t true. I didn’t … I haven’t … I promised you girls. I’ve not been in touch with him since November. Then he turned up at a reading I did and … ’
> ‘You’ve started seeing him again.’
‘No. I haven’t. He wanted to, but I said I couldn’t … I couldn’t do it to Bob and you and Em. I didn’t tell you the whole truth, back in November. I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I’m so sorry … it was cowardly. I simply … well, I didn’t want to rock the boat. Not then. I feel differently now.’
Zannah said, ‘Oh, Ma, how awful! For both of you. I feel so bad now. Guilty. It’s our fault. We hadn’t any right to tell you what we wanted you to do. It’s your life and we were just thinking of ourselves: how our lives would be affected by what you and Pa did. I think we’re the ones to apologize. And I never said anything, not even to Em, but I always sort of suspected that there was more to it than you told us. I allowed myself to be deluded because there was so much going on. I’m sorry, Ma, that you’ve had to go through this alone. And I’m sorry for Pa too. What happened when he got the email?’
‘We had a row. I told him I was still in love with Gray … He’s left Maureen, you know. They’re getting a divorce. The email, I think, was her way of hurting me because she was hurt. And also getting back at all of us, for what happened with you and Adrian.’
‘Are you and Pa going to get a divorce?’
‘God, Zannah, you don’t need this now! I truly didn’t want to spoil tomorrow. I was going to tell you later, after the wedding. I can’t live with him any longer.’
‘But Ma, don’t you love him? Not even a bit? Poor old Pa!’
‘Of course I do! You can’t live with someone for more than thirty years and have children with them and not love them. He’s been good to me, but he’s been … Well, you know your father. He’s in his own world for much of the time. He doesn’t … he doesn’t really see me any longer. He doesn’t … Oh, God, I’m not telling you all this, Zannah. You’re his daughter. I don’t want to come between the two of you. I know I’ll be hurting him, but I can’t … ’