He exhaled slowly.
‘I’d only be away overnight,’ she added.
‘You’re a sweet girl, Imogen,’ he told her. ‘I know you mess things up sometimes, and you can be beyond hopeless at others, but you’re kind-hearted and thoughtful and I worry that people trample all over you. I especially worry that your so-called family would take advantage.’
She said nothing.
‘If you want to go to Birmingham, I suppose you can.’
Her face brightened.
‘But I’m not letting you go on your own,’ he added. ‘What would people say? No, I’ll come with you. And we’ll show them what a strong marriage really looks like.’
‘Great,’ she said.
She was shocked at how disappointed she suddenly felt.
Vince booked the flights and the room at the hotel, which was also the wedding venue.
‘It looks lovely,’ Imogen observed as she peered over his shoulder at the website. ‘What a fantastic place to get married.’
‘Better than ours?’
‘Of course not.’
She’d been perfectly happy with their registry office ceremony and low-key reception afterwards. Neither of them had wanted to make a big deal of things, especially given their family circumstances, although Imogen was afraid that the day had been a bit of a let-down for Agnes and Berthe, who’d travelled all the way from their new home in Palm Springs to be there.
‘It’s not the trappings, it’s knowing that you’re happy,’ Agnes said to her when she voiced her concerns. ‘You are happy, Imogen, aren’t you?’
‘I couldn’t be happier,’ she told her aunt. And she meant it then. She loved Vince. Their wedding ceremony had been perfect. She wasn’t a person who liked fuss. She was comfortable with understated.
But Cheyenne didn’t know the meaning of the word. She had always liked extravagance and bling, and that was what she brought to her own wedding. The ceremony took place in a gazebo decorated with masses of white roses and ribbons. A harpist played during the ceremony itself, a string quartet during the meal, and Cheyenne had said that there was to be a band for livelier music later.
‘A desperate waste of money,’ murmured Vince as they tucked in to the dinner. ‘They could’ve plugged in an iPod for the music, and those flowers will be thrown out tomorrow.’
‘Oh, but the string quartet is lovely,’ protested Imogen. ‘And I bet people will take the table flower arrangements home. I would, if we didn’t have to catch a flight.’
‘We could nab one anyway,’ he said.
‘I don’t think it would fit in the overhead bin.’ Imogen giggled and Vince shot her an irritated look.
He seemed to be irritated with her for much of the day. She wished he hadn’t come. It was ages since she’d been at a big do, and it was lovely to dress up and have fun, but she kept looking around and checking to see where Vince was and who he was talking to in case something or someone upset him. At the same time she was doing her best to enjoy the party. Even though she’d been out of touch with Kevin, Paula and Cheyenne for so long (as well as having only seen Boris a couple of times), she felt connected to them now in a way that she hadn’t before. She posed for photos with her young stepbrother, got up and danced when the band started to play and chatted happily to people she hardly knew. She’d forgotten how good she was at casual conversation with perfect strangers; that her ability to get on with everyone had been nurtured in Provence, where she’d charmed the guests of the Maison Lavande with her sunny nature and wide baby smile.
Later in the evening she sat with Cheyenne and her new husband, Richard, and told them what a great day it had been.
‘Thanks,’ said Cheyenne. ‘I always wanted a big do. I suppose you think I’m crazy, what with your small and intimate wedding.’
‘It’s not my thing,’ conceded Imogen. ‘But each to their own. We both got the day we wanted.’
‘As long as we get the happy-ever-after, that’s all that matters.’ Cheyenne smiled at her. ‘Remember when we were kids and we talked about our requirements for our future husbands? Of course you started off with not wanting anyone at all, but when you caved in, you went the traditional route – tall, dark and handsome. I was the one who wanted someone blond and hunky.’ She put her arm around Richard’s shoulder. ‘And in the end I went for tall, dark and handsome anyway.’
‘And I went for Vince.’ Imogen hadn’t meant her words to sound rueful, but even to her own ears they did. She saw Cheyenne’s eyes widen a little in surprise.
‘I haven’t really spoken to Vince yet.’ Richard stepped into the uncomfortable silence. ‘Let’s get him over here.’ He raised his arm and waved at Imogen’s husband, who was standing at the bar. Vince saw him and came over, a pint of lager in one hand and a sparkling water in the other.
‘I got you this.’ He put the water down in front of Imogen. ‘You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol in your condition.’
‘Condition!’ Cheyenne stared at Imogen. ‘Are you … are congratulations in order?’
‘No, no,’ said Imogen hastily. ‘I think Vince means I’ve had enough to drink.’
‘Oh.’ Cheyenne gave Vince a puzzled glance. ‘I thought for a moment … Never mind.’ She raised her own glass of wine. ‘Anyhow, cheers, everyone. I’m so glad you came, Imogen.’
‘Not that it was easy,’ Vince said. ‘Having a wedding on a Thursday is pretty inconvenient.’
‘Vince.’ Imogen frowned.
‘Well it is,’ he said. ‘It’s two days off work for most people. And of course we had the additional expense of travelling.’
‘But we had lots of time to plan around it,’ said Imogen. ‘And it was great to get away. We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Cheyenne. I love the hotel.’
‘Not one I would have chosen myself,’ Vince said. ‘A bit brash. But not bad.’
‘It had everything we wanted,’ said Richard. ‘And I’m sorry about the Thursday and the travelling. Most people didn’t seem to mind.’
‘Nobody would say anything, of course,’ said Vince.
‘Except you.’ Cheyenne’s tone was dry.
‘I tell it like it is.’
‘Vince, we’re all having a lovely time,’ said Imogen. ‘You like the hotel, you said so earlier. There’s no need to be snippy about it now.’
Vince looked at her. ‘You agreed with me that it was expensive.’
‘I …’
‘It’s time for us to dance.’ Cheyenne stood up. ‘Nice talking to you, Vince.’
She led Richard away, leaving Imogen and Vince sitting on their own.
‘You embarrassed me in front of them,’ hissed Imogen. ‘That was a horrible thing to say.’
‘It’s the truth, isn’t it? We both thought it was expensive. We both agreed that Thursday was awkward. So stop pretending, Imogen.’
‘I’m not—’
‘You’ve been doing nothing but pretend ever since we got here. Pretending that you give a shit for any of them when you know you don’t. When you know that the one person who matters here today is me.’
He went to the bar and she sat by herself, watching Cheyenne and Richard laughing as they danced together.
This was why she’d wanted to come on her own, she realised. She’d known that Vince would eventually pass some kind of remark that would offend someone. He always managed to do that. She was sure he didn’t really mean to give offence. He just said what was in his head and left everyone with a terrible impression. Yet she knew he could be warm and kind and generous. Unfortunately he often kept that side of himself hidden. Even from her.
‘I’m taking this to the room.’ Vince returned to the table, a beer in his hand. ‘Are you coming?’
‘We can’t leave yet.’ She looked aghast. ‘Cheyenne hasn’t thrown her bouquet or anything.’
‘You don’t need to catch it,’ he said. ‘You’ve got me.’
‘It doesn’t matter. It’s too soon to leave,’ she said.
‘I can’t go yet, Vince. I really can’t.’
He regarded her thoughtfully.
‘You can stay for another hour,’ he told her. ‘Then I want you upstairs.’
‘OK.’ She didn’t want to argue.
He left the function room and Imogen exhaled sharply. She realised she was shaking. Had she blatantly defied him? Would he be furious with her when she went back to the room? Would it be better to go now anyway? But just as she was thinking that she should leave, Kevin and Paula pulled out the chairs at the table and sat down beside her.
‘Having a good time?’ asked her stepfather.
‘It’s … it’s wonderful.’ It took her a moment to gather herself, and then she smiled. ‘Exactly as I imagined Cheyenne’s wedding would be.’
‘You know we would have organised something like this for you and Vince if that was what you’d wanted,’ said Kevin.
‘We didn’t,’ Imogen said. ‘But thank you for saying so.’
‘It’s nice to see you again,’ said Kevin. ‘It seems such a long time since your own wedding. We’ve hardly spoken since then.’
‘We’re all so busy these days,’ Imogen said.
‘Everything going OK for you?’ His eyes searched her face.
‘Fine,’ she assured him.
‘He treats you all right?’
‘Vince? Of course. Why would you even ask?’ Her tone was wary.
‘When I first met him I thought he was a decent enough guy. But today … well, he seems very abrupt,’ said Kevin. ‘Bordering on rude, to be honest. I guess I wanted to be sure that he wasn’t that way with you.’
‘Thanks for your concern, but it’s his manner, that’s all. He means nothing by it.’ Imogen was conscious that her entire body was as stiff as a board. She didn’t want her family criticising Vince. She didn’t want them saying the things she was thinking. ‘He’s not always like this,’ she added. ‘He’s just a bit uncomfortable in certain situations.’
‘He should be comfortable with us,’ said Paula. ‘We’re your family, after all. And we’ve known you a lot longer than him. So he should be a bit more respectful and less of a twat.’
‘I’ll go and see how the twat is doing.’ Imogen got up.
‘Imogen, please sit down.’ Kevin put his hand on her arm. ‘Paula didn’t mean to offend you.’
‘Calling my husband a twat isn’t offensive?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Paula. ‘I was trying to be light-hearted about my … my concerns, but it misfired.’
‘Your concerns?’
‘Look, sweetheart, we’re both a little worried about you,’ said Kevin. ‘We—’
‘Well it’s a bit late for you to be worried about me now,’ said Imogen. ‘You certainly weren’t worried when you hauled me and Cheyenne from Dublin to Birmingham when we would’ve been better off staying where we were.’
‘Imogen! That’s not true. We had long discussions—’
‘About how it would work,’ Imogen said. ‘Not about if we wanted to go.’
‘Cheyenne was happy to move,’ he said. ‘I thought you were too.’
‘I’d already moved from France. I didn’t want to move from Ireland too,’ said Imogen. ‘I told you that a thousand times. But you didn’t leave me with any choice.’
‘I know it must have been hard,’ Paula said. ‘But we had a lovely home together. You were happy. You know you were.’
‘Oh, please.’ Imogen sighed. ‘You knew what you wanted and you got it. Which isn’t a criticism, Paula. But don’t try to make out that everything was for my own good, because it wasn’t. It was what you and Kevin wanted, and let’s face it, I’m not your daughter and I’m not Kevin’s daughter. So what mattered to me didn’t matter to either of you.’
‘You know I’ve always treated you exactly the same as Cheyenne,’ said Kevin.
Imogen remained silent.
‘Don’t let’s fight,’ he said. ‘Listen, the important thing is that we’re all here celebrating with Cheyenne and Richard. And if we’ve misread your situation, Imogen, we apologise. The most important thing is that you’re happy now. I’m going to go and get us all some champagne.’
He left the two women alone together.
‘I’m sorry you blame me,’ said Paula.
‘I don’t.’ Imogen was already regretting the harsh words. ‘It was a difficult time for me back then, but I know you did your best. I’ve been fine ever since. I’m adaptable.’
‘Kevin always says that about you,’ Paula told her.
‘He does?’
‘Yes. He told me he’d never met anyone like you before. He said that no matter what life threw at you, you coped with it. You’d start murmuring about always looking on the bright side and counting your blessings and moving onwards and upwards.’
‘That’s what I was taught to do.’
‘He loves you,’ said Paula. ‘We both do. And you don’t have to count those blessings on your own. We’re here to help.’
Quite suddenly, Imogen felt a lump in her throat. For the first time in her life she believed that they did care about her, not just about themselves. She felt horribly guilty that perhaps she’d misjudged them.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘We should be in touch more,’ said Paula.
‘Sure.’
‘More than just Christmas and birthdays,’ said Paula. ‘Or weddings. We’re part of each other’s lives. We always will be.’
Imogen twirled her wedding ring around on her finger.
She’d always told Vince that she didn’t feel connected to her stepfamily, and he’d agreed with her. You’re not related, he’d say. Not to any of them. It’s a connection that doesn’t matter any more. They’re nothing to you. They’re not really your family, Imogen. I am. Only me.
He was wrong. They did mean something. She hadn’t realised it until now.
‘Kevin was very hurt when Vince told him not to call any more,’ said Paula.
‘Vince told him that?’ Imogen was shocked. ‘When?’
‘Oh, ages ago,’ replied Paula. ‘One evening when he phoned … Vince said his calls upset you.’
‘He …’ Imogen was confused. ‘Are you sure? Vince wouldn’t say that, Paula. I was never upset by Kevin.’
Paula shrugged.
‘This is nonsense.’ Imogen got up. ‘I’ve got to … I’ll see you later, OK?’
She left just as her stepfather returned with a bottle of champagne.
But she didn’t stop. She was thinking of how hurt she’d felt when Kevin’s occasional calls had stopped altogether. How unimportant she obviously was to him. How forgotten. She hadn’t called him. The way she’d looked at it, he’d moved on and so had she.
She was on her way back to Vince when one of the male guests who’d had too much to drink caught her by the arm and dragged her on to the dance floor. She allowed him to shuffle her around for a couple of minutes before disentangling herself and walking away.
When she let herself into the bedroom, it was empty. She was struck by a sudden fear that Vince had left without her, but when she checked the wardrobe, his clothes were still there. She released the breath she’d been holding, then sat in the armchair in the corner of the room. He returned fifteen minutes later.
‘So you’ve stopped allowing men you don’t know to grope you on the dance floor,’ he said.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I saw you,’ he said. ‘You and that old lech.’
‘He’s Cheyenne’s godfather. I couldn’t stop him.’
‘Of course you could,’ said Vince. ‘If you’d really wanted to.’
‘Vince, please … I don’t want to argue.’
‘Because you’re in the wrong and you know it.’
‘I was certainly wrong about coming to the wedding,’ agreed Imogen. ‘You haven’t enjoyed it and neither have I.’
‘I
told you you wouldn’t.’
‘I might have had more fun if you’d put in some effort.’
‘So you’re blaming me?’
‘No. But we could have made it fun, Vince. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Nothing is fun about these people,’ he said. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘Is that why you told Kevin not to phone me any more?’ She hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but she couldn’t stop herself.
‘What?’
‘Paula told me that you asked Kevin not to phone me because his calls upset me.’
‘Paula said that?’
‘Yes. Is it true?’
‘She’s twisting it, like she always does. What I told him was that you’d found it difficult when he married your mother. And that sometimes you got upset after he talked to you, which was perfectly true. That’s all.’
‘And you didn’t warn him off?’
‘Why would I do that?’
Imogen sank back down into the chair.
‘I don’t know what to think,’ she said.
‘What you should be thinking is that this crowd of people mean nothing to you any more,’ said Vince. ‘They messed up your life and they’ll manipulate you whatever way they like.’
‘Maybe.’
‘But I’m with you for the long haul. Better or worse, remember?’
She gave him a faint smile.
‘And maybe the reason I’ve been a bit narky about it all is that I’m jealous.’
‘Jealous?’ She stared at him.
‘They knew you when I didn’t,’ he said. ‘They’ve had a head start.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘It’s true,’ said Vince. ‘Now, I’ll tell you what. Since it matters so much to you that we have a good time tonight, let’s go back downstairs together and join in the fun.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
He led her from the room and back to the wedding party, where he danced with her and then Cheyenne and then Paula. She watched anxiously as he spun around the floor with them, but he was smiling all the time.
‘Now,’ he said when he came back to her. ‘I’ve been nice to all of them.’
‘So you have,’ she said, although she wondered what he’d said to them. She hoped he’d been friendly.
‘So it’s your turn to be nice to me,’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
The Missing Wife Page 19