A Merry Mistletoe Wedding

by Judy Astley

  As soon as school was over for the day, she drove home, unpacked the clothes from the week before, shoved a lot of them in the washing machine and then went and lay in a hot steamy bath for a while. She felt numb inside and still hadn’t spoken to Sean. There were over twenty missed calls on her phone, all from him, and a long list of text messages. For fuck’s sake talk to me, Thea, was the last one, showing he was running out of patience – and who could blame him? A man wanting to make his excuses wouldn’t want them to be kept waiting. Holes in the arguments might present themselves. She was longing to talk to him, desperate to hear something that would stop her thinking the worst but she didn’t trust herself not simply to burst into tears the moment she heard his voice.

  When the house phone rang she didn’t answer but the voicemail told her it was Anna.

  ‘Can you come over for supper, Tee? I know it’s short notice and you might be busy but I want to talk to you about this house. We’re going to need to get rid of a lot of stuff so it’s less cluttered and easier to sell and I want you to come and decide if there’s anything you’d like. Jimi and Rosie are coming over too. I’ve asked Emily as well but she says she “just can’t”. She still seems to be in a silly sulk. I hope she comes out of it soon – it’s very tedious.’

  Thea wasn’t keen to go but her mother sounded a bit despairing. They weren’t going to get through the evening without mentioning the wedding and she’d have to tell them it might not be on. Or it might. If she didn’t talk to Sean she’d never know. OK, so it had to be done. She sent a text to Anna to say that she’d be there later and then, taking a few deep breaths first, dialled the number of the stables. She didn’t want to call Sean’s mobile as the signal down at Cove Manor wasn’t reliable and if they were going to have a proper in-depth discussion about issues of honesty and whether this little matter of the unmentioned marriage to Katinka was a deal-breaker or not, then she didn’t want them also to be dealing with crackling down the line and the chance of being cut off.

  She was trembling as she heard his phone ring. She pictured him either in the kitchen or in the bedroom where the second handset was kept. She hoped he’d grab it at first ring but it rang five times before it was picked up and a voice that was girly, American and definitely not Sean’s said, ‘Hiiiii!’ with an upbeat cheerleader over-brightness that made Thea want to throw her own phone out of the window. So Katinka was still there. Terrific. Without speaking, Thea switched off her phone.

  ‘But it’s a school night and we haven’t got a babysitter,’ Emily was saying to Sam.

  ‘If you’d said earlier that your folks had invited us out, we could probably have got someone,’ Sam replied, ‘and we can take Ned with us anyway – it’s only to your parents’, not some fancy dinner party.’

  ‘I know, but …’

  ‘You don’t want to go because Thea will be there. That’s the bottom line, isn’t it? You still haven’t spoken to her.’

  Emily shrugged. ‘No. And I feel bad about that but I’ve not been, you know, that well, have I? I mean, obviously she’s my sister and I’ve got to face her some time but I don’t think I can face going over the whole thing again. I don’t want her to hate me for not wanting to spend Christmas in Cornwall but I still think it was unreasonable of her to expect me to. She knew from the start how I feel about it.’

  ‘I think we all know how you feel, Em,’ Sam said, sighing. ‘You never stop telling us. Look, I’ll babysit. You go on your own. Well, you and Ned. Or leave me a couple of bottles and I’ll have him.’

  ‘Bottles? What, of formula?’ Emily said. ‘No way! I don’t even have any!’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Em, it’s not as if I’m suggesting poison for him. I just thought you might like an evening out without having a baby glued to your front.’

  Emily stared at him. ‘It’s called “contact parenting”. It’s not “glue”. I’m just doing the best I can for our baby. Is that so bad? Is there anything I can get right for you these days?’

  ‘Of course you can. You’re doing a terrific job with Ned.’

  ‘Don’t patronize me.’ She was almost growling.

  ‘I’m not.’ Sam frowned. ‘But, of course, you being in this crazy bubble, it doesn’t cross your self-obsessed mind that I might quite like doing a bit of contact parenting myself. I hardly get near the baby. You’re like a mother wolf with him. Oh God, Emily, don’t go and fucking cry.’

  Emily pulled off a piece of kitchen paper and mopped her eyes. ‘If I go tonight, will you come with me down to Wiltshire to look at that house?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ he said, hugging her.

  Emily beamed at him. ‘That’s all I ask. Thank you. I’ll go and shower and put something nice on.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘See? Not too hard, was it?’

  Thea decided she wouldn’t say anything over supper about the Sean thing. She would leave the problem at home, grit her teeth and answer any questions about the dress she hadn’t bought, the flowers she hadn’t yet ordered, the barbecues they’d need for the beach breakfast that they hadn’t yet sorted out. It was only one evening. How hard could it be? And also, she hung on to the tiny hope that while she didn’t listen to Sean and his explanation, perhaps all might still be well. Once she’d heard what he had to say, the excuses as to why he’d somehow omitted to tell her such an important thing, she wouldn’t have any choice but to make up her mind about what she wanted to do. That’s if she had the choice. Perhaps, like Rich the year before, he’d simply gone off her and Katinka had moved in seamlessly and for good before Thea’s side of the bed was even cool.

  Just as she was leaving the house her phone rang yet again. She almost ignored it, assuming it was Sean, but the ID showed up as Rich.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, while delving in her bag to find her keys.

  ‘Hi. How are you?’

  Thea waited a second, hardly trusting herself to speak. ‘I’m fine,’ she said at last. ‘Couldn’t be … er … Yes, fine. And you?’

  ‘Also fine. Well, still camping in a mate’s flat and it’s not ideal for me or for Benji. I’m sorry to ask, but do you think you could have him for a bit longer than just next weekend? It’s just, I’m trying to find somewhere to rent and it’s not easy taking him to view places. A couple of them rejected me on the spot just for having him with me. You won’t believe how many landlords stipulate “no pets” as if a lazy poodle like him was no different from a snarling Staffie.’

  ‘OK,’ Thea said. ‘That’s not a problem but you do know I can’t take him to work? He’ll be on his own in the daytime so I can’t do that for more than a couple of days. It’s not fair to him – and not to me either if he gets bored and starts chewing furniture. I know he’s a great one for putting in a good day’s sleep but it’s still not ideal.’

  ‘That’s OK – I can pick him up on Tuesday, early evening, after you get back from school. I do appreciate this, Thea. You’ve no idea how much.’

  Well, at least one man in the world appreciated her, she thought as she left the house and went to the car, even if it happened to be the one out of the planet’s entire population that she absolutely didn’t want.

  Jimi was lurking by the front door when Thea arrived at her parents’ house. He had a final puff on the cigarette that he thought nobody knew he was smoking and went to open her car door for her.

  ‘Hello, you,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Come to divvy up the parental spoils like the rest of us?’

  Thea laughed. ‘I’m not so sure about that. You know how tiny my house is – I haven’t got space for anything else.’

  ‘There’s always room for a painting or two,’ Anna said as she opened the door and ushered them both in. ‘And maybe the odd bedside cupboard or something? I think we’ll have more luck with the selling if we had about half the contents. It’s only now, when I look at the place with the eyes of a pretend buyer, that I can see how much more space there’d be and how much more attractive too. Belinda our agent s
aid that potential buyers don’t have that much imagination. I think that’s estate-agent-speak for “get rid of half your garbage and it might look a quarterway decent”.’

  In the kitchen, Emily was sitting at the table, feeding Ned. Thea was a bit taken aback, not really having expected to see her. Well, at least here was one person who would be delighted if the wedding didn’t go ahead. That sour thought didn’t help her state of mind and she tried hard to put thoughts of Sean and Katinka out of her head, at least for the next couple of hours.

  ‘Hello, Thea.’ Emily smiled at her. Thea thought she looked nervous, possibly thinking there’d be a no-speaking situation.

  ‘Hi, Emily. How’s the baby? He looks much bigger already.’

  ‘Well, you haven’t seen him for a few weeks, have you?’ Rosie chipped in. Thea and Emily looked at each other.

  ‘Now, girls, play nicely,’ Mike said, handing a glass of Coke to Emily and some wine to Thea. Thea didn’t really want it but was pleased to have something to hold. It gave her a bit of much-needed stability.

  ‘Sorry. Did I say something?’ Rosie said, blushing. ‘I tend to.’

  ‘You do,’ Jimi said fondly. ‘But we’d expect nothing less.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said to him, ‘I think …’

  ‘OK, everybody, find a chair and we’ll eat first and maybe you can give us an idea about things you might want to take from here. Or would it be a good idea to do that first?’

  ‘No, let’s eat. I’m starving,’ Emily said, putting Ned back in his sling.

  ‘Good plan,’ Anna said. ‘And if we talk about it we can start to whittle down who wants what. You might have favourite pieces that you want to mention.’ She went to the oven and opened the door. ‘It’s just a lamb tagine with couscous and a big salad.’

  Thea relaxed into her chair, breathing in the comforting aroma of home-cooked food made with love and half a lifetime of experience. What she’d give to know that some day she and Sean too would be welcoming their own grown-up children to a home like this. She looked across the table at Emily, who was gently stroking the soft, suedey head of the baby. Thea wasn’t going to cry, she was determined about that, but it was quite hard trying not to. If she lost Sean, she’d be losing not just the man she really, really loved but all the years of a possible family life together.

  ‘I still wish you weren’t selling up,’ Emily said as they began to eat. ‘But … I can understand that you might want to move away from London. I’ve … er … been thinking about it too as it happens.’

  ‘Really?’ Jimi said. ‘Where are you thinking of going? I always had you down as the ultimate outer-London mum.’

  ‘Not sure but, you know, out. I want my children to be raised in a proper community. I’d like a small country town or a big village where people look out for each other and I can feel they’re safe.’

  ‘Don’t you feel safe here? You live in one of the bits of London that everyone envies,’ Jimi said. ‘What could be better?’

  ‘She wants to pull up a drawbridge. I know the feeling,’ Anna said.

  ‘Drawbridge? What do you mean?’ Emily asked.

  ‘I mean that you want a proper edge to your tiny town, the equivalent of a moat. Some definite place where the houses stop and the countryside begins and there’s a road sign with the place name on. Everyone inside it is supposed to feel they belong.’

  ‘That’s it!’ Emily said. ‘I want to be inside and feeling secure, not here where everything’s blurry. I feel sort of lost in London now. I think it’s since Ned.’

  ‘It’s not Ned, it’s the mugging,’ Mike said. ‘You do know it can happen anywhere? And that when you move to this haven you’ll still be getting in the car to go to a city for some shopping and still be joining the crowds for the odd day at Ikea? It’ll all just be further away, that’s all.’

  ‘Thanks for your support, Dad,’ Emily said, looking disappointed. ‘I was hoping you’d understand. After all, you’re moving out as well.’

  ‘Hmm. Well, sort of. I’d like us to keep a little toehold in the area. It might be too big and “blurry” for you but it’s where a lot of our friends are.’

  ‘The ones who aren’t dropping off the perch, that is,’ Anna said.

  ‘But, Emily’ – Jimi had a mischievous look on his face and was enjoying niggling his sister – ‘aren’t you currently one of those Queen Bee yummy mummies that occupy most of the coffee shops? What will you do out in the sticks without Starbucks?’

  ‘Jimi!’ Anna said sharply. ‘When has Emily ever been like that? She’s got an important career under way. Just because a woman has a baby it doesn’t mean she turns into a coffee-house … blob.’

  ‘They’re not blobs either,’ Thea said. ‘Just women doing a different job from the one they get paid for, and mostly temporarily.’

  ‘Childcare – still mostly considered a women’s issue. Western feminism won’t make any advances till that little issue’s dealt with.’

  They all turned to look at Rosie.

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? I mean, Sam and Emily have got it right because Sam mostly does the childcare but he can’t while Em’s feeding Ned. Hence that forever inequality. Also, Emily, just about every little town in the country has a Starbucks so you won’t miss out.’

  Mike laughed. ‘But you can’t change physiology. Men can’t feed babies.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want them to even if they could,’ Emily said.

  ‘Me neither,’ Rosie agreed. ‘Can you imagine how much they’d whinge about it? Too uncomfortable, too difficult, too time-consuming … all that.’

  ‘We are here, you know,’ Jimi said. ‘Mike and I are in the room.’

  ‘You’ve got all this to come, Thea,’ Rosie said, giving her a nudge.

  That was too much for Thea and the tears she’d been holding back for the whole day spilled out at last.

  ‘Oh God, you poor darling!’ Anna said, putting an arm round her. ‘What is it now? Has something happened? You and Sean looked so very happy when we saw you last weekend.’

  ‘I hope the wedding’s not off. I’ve bought a hat,’ Rosie said, laughing nervously as everyone looked at her again. ‘It’s me, isn’t it? I’ve said something again.’

  ‘No, it’s not you.’ Thea managed to get the words out between sobs.

  ‘It’s me then,’ Emily said glumly. ‘I knew it bloody would be. I shouldn’t have come.’

  Thea got up from the table and went to get a glass of water. ‘I don’t know what’s happening. There’s … there’s been a bit of a hitch. I don’t want to talk about it.’

  She saw Rosie, Anna and Emily look at each other. She almost smiled: they looked disappointed at her refusal to talk and she didn’t blame them. If she were in their shoes she’d be dying to know what was going on and be thoroughly miffed to have to deal with the tears but not get the information. All the same, until she’d spoken to Sean she wasn’t going to say anything. Coming out with all that had happened and the thing about bloody Katinka might make them all hate him. Even now, she definitely didn’t want that.

  ‘I suppose if there’s a big hitch it’s a good thing you haven’t bought a dress yet then,’ Rosie said. ‘Not like last time.’

  ‘Rosie!’ Jimi said. ‘For goodness’ sake, operate your off switch, if you’ve got one.’

  Thea couldn’t help but laugh then. ‘Oh, Rosie! I’m still hoping it won’t be a waste of your hat.’

  Thea didn’t want to look at emails before bed. She was certain there’d be something from Sean and she didn’t want to feel any worse than she already did. It wasn’t that she thought he’d end their relationship via email – no one but the most heartless bastard would do such a thing and Sean could never be described as heartless. But she didn’t want to know any details about Katinka, about her sudden reappearance in his life, not before she tried to sleep anyway. Her imagination was capable of filling in any gaps all by itself. How, for instance, could anyone c
laim they were ‘just passing’ when they were on their way to South Africa? By what stretch of a crazy travel itinerary was south-west Cornwall on the way?

  Thea went to the drawer where she’d kept the little plaited grass ring that Sean had placed on her finger back in August. What a beautiful, sunny day full of hope and love and happiness that had been. She moved underwear out of the way, pushing aside silky knickers and her favourite bras, looking for the pink envelope she kept the ring in. Maybe just holding it for a few minutes would help her feel a bit more positive. The envelope was right at the back, not at the side of the drawer where she’d thought she’d put it. She pulled it out, opened it and looked inside. The grass ring had gone. Only a few tiny grains of seed were left in the envelope’s corner. How could that have happened? She took everything out of the drawer, carefully, one item at a time, and shook it over the bed in the hope it had somehow escaped. Nothing. Then she closed the envelope and opened it again, like a magician reconjuring a missing dove from a hat. Still nothing. Somehow, and so sadly, the little plaited ring had simply vanished.