Wedding in the Family

by Susan Alexander

  'After Reading I'm going to take it easy,' he said casually. 'We'll come off the motorway and take the smaller roads. Then we can make detours if we wish.' He looked down at her in sudden brilliant good humour and smiled. 'There are magazines and newspapers in the back, or you can adjust your seat and go to sleep,' he said.

  It was a luxury for her to be driven instead of driving herself, and she liked the power of the car and the comfort and ease with which it travelled. As they reached Reading the sun came out, watery at first, and then gradually dispersing the clouds and wind. Jake opened the sun roof and Davina sat, just drifting in and out of her thoughts.

  From time to time she would glance out at a village or town as they passed, at cows and horses in the fields, and at distant sun on trees just bursting into bloom. Or she would lie back looking through the sun roof at the clouds blowing by overhead.

  It was strange, looking back; she had never been at ease with Jake Humphries. She had always admired and respected him, and at times been more than a little afraid of him. His strongly dominant personality, his good looks and his tremendous virility had always kept her at a distance, slightly withdrawn. She could not share the easy camaraderie that Mike and Charlie enjoyed with him. Even Heather occasionally joined in teasing and backchat with him. Georgina, too, had been genuinely fond of him, and had often fended off young secretaries in the agency, eager to dally with messages in the hope of a word with the eligible and attractive Jake Humphries. Since Davina had taken over Georgina's job several girls had tried to pump her about Jake's private life. But she had always refused to be drawn into any discussion about her boss.

  The rare visits to the office of one of his girl-friends had always kept her tonguetied. They were all beautiful, exquisitely dressed, and appeared devoted to him. None of them were very young, she guessed, and none seemed to last very long. But she never speculated about that, and had no interest in his private life. And now, unexpectedly, she was flung right into that private life. And she was not at all sure she would be able to handle this strange relationship they had started so lightheartedly.

  But for the moment she was relaxed and content. And there was something more. She felt a strange sense of companionship that she had never found with him at the office, and that she could not remember feeling with anyone else. He was making no demands on her, seemingly content to drive, leaving her to her thoughts with no need to talk.

  'We've just passed Shepton Mallet,' Jake's voice intruded into her thoughts. 'Would you like to have lunch at Glastonbury?'

  The question, she knew, was merely a formality. Glastonbury was where they would stop for lunch.

  'Mm…' she said vaguely.

  'I need a break,' he went on, 'and the Pilgrims Inn will give us a light meal. When I'm driving I don't like a heavy meal. It makes me sleepy.'

  They parked in the square at the back of the twelfth-century inn and walked through the rear entrance. Davina watched Jake bend his head to avoid the top of the low doorway. They sat in the main room, by the latticed bow windows overlooking the main street of the old town. Dark beams held up the low ceiling and oak trestle tables lined the walls. The bar was housed behind a gleaming brass grille at the back and a pleasant fire burnt in the huge brick fireplace, taking the chill off the day.

  Davina chose a home-made vegetable soup followed by a salad with freshly baked bread, and Jake had the special steak and kidney pie. He sighed contentedly as glasses of iced white wine appeared for them both.

  'You're a restful girl, Davina Richards, do you know that?' he smiled, and began to tell her something of the inn.

  The Benedictine monks of the Abbey had been famous throughout Europe, and pilgrims came in a constant stream throughout the year. The monks had not the room to put up their many visitors in their own quarters, and so the inn became a stop over for these travellers. Each room still carried a famous name from those days.

  After lunch they decided to stretch their legs, and wandered round the ruins of the abbey. Jake told her how the Holy Grail had been brought to England by Joseph of Arimathea, who had buried it and founded the first Christian church, according to later chroniclers. The burial place of the Grail had been marked with Joseph's staff, and had turned into a holy thorn that blossomed every Christmas Eve until Cromwell's men cut it down four centuries later.

  The Abbey became rich and famous; one of its most prestigious Abbots was Henry Blois, Bishop of Winchester, who used to entertain in royal style. In his time there were sixty acres of land attached to the Abbey. The last Abbot was hanged by Henry VIII in 1538 at the time of the Dissolution of the Monasteries and the king's divorce and marriage to Anne Boleyn.

  They wandered over the grass, looking at the awesome remains of the Abbey, hinting at its grandeur. The only building intact was the Abbot's kitchen, and Davina was thrilled to think how old was the round-domed, square-based stone building. Inside four huge ovens were built one into each corner of the kitchen, each with its own chimney rising in a great pyramid to the roof above.

  Jake showed her where the monks had discovered the graves of King Arthur and Guinevere and thought at the time they had found Avalon of Round Table fame.

  Climbing down into the ruins of the once famous cellars, Davina slipped. She jumped, trying to save herself, and fell heavily against Jake as he turned below. His arms closed tightly round her and she felt the heat of his body through his thin silk shirt. Her breath came in a gasp and a sharp tremor of awareness shot through her at his closeness. But a moment later she was free and he had turned away, going on ahead.

  'I think it's time we went on,' he said briefly, and they headed back to the car. But, strangely, the easy companionship of the day had gone.

  'Davina… come on, Davina, wake up.' The voice seemed to come from a great distance as she struggled out of a deep sleep to find herself with her head against Jake's shoulder. She drew away sharply, blushing selfconsciously.

  'We're about a mile from St Ives, and I thought you might like to titivate before we get there,' he said coldly.

  'Oh, yes, thank you, I would.' Her voice was breathy and nervous at the thought of what lay ahead.

  'Right,' he opened the car door and got out, 'I'm just going to stretch my legs for a minute, and then we'll move on.'

  Davina straightened her clothes, tidied her hair and refreshed her lipstick. They bypassed St Ives and she directed him to Cornish Bay, leaning forward eagerly to note the familiar landmarks, her worries forgotten in the excitement of coming home.

  They passed the old mill and sighted the church, turning a corner to face the cottage that Philip used to rent. She wondered if he had kept it on, but doubted it. There was no sign of anyone about. The gate had been repaired, she noticed, and the outside painted. Looking back she could just make out some washing hanging out in the garden.

  'Philip's cottage?' Jake's voice was sardonic.

  'Yes.'

  Her hands clenched in an effort to stay cool, suddenly overwhelmed by what lay ahead of her, and she didn't notice Jake's quick glance at her whitened face. Then they were travelling slowly down her road and there was the house… home. The warm stone house with its trailing ivy, the coloured spring flowers and the cherry tree at the gate in full blossom, made her throat ache with sudden homesickness and fear, clammy, panic-stricken fear.

  'I can't… I want to… I don't think…'

  'Davina!' Jake's voice was sharp. 'You're here and you're going to face it. You can't run a second time. Come on, girl, pull yourself together.'

  His impersonal, cold tone steadied her.

  'Yes, of course,' she said bleakly, 'you're quite right.'

  Jake opened the car door and turned to her.

  'Did you ring and tell them about me?' he asked.

  'Oh, no, I forgot…'

  'Never mind,' he smiled sardonically, 'the shock of that should take their minds off… er… other things.'

  As he walked round to the boot, the front door opened and her mother came
out. 'Darling,' she called, 'I wasn't sure if it was you… Oh!' she threw her arms round Davina. 'Oh, it's so wonderful to see you! Welcome home, my love.'

  'Mum.' Davina's voice was unsteady, her smile a little tearful.

  'I'm so thankful you've come,' her mother whispered with tears in her eyes. 'Now let me look at you.'

  As her mother held her at arms' length, Davina noticed how very frail she looked. The blonde hair was almost totally grey, and the face looked smaller and more lined than she remembered. Only the eyes were the same, a little watery at the moment, but still that intense blue.

  'Well, I can see you've grown up,' her mother's voice was firmer, '… so elegant and so beautiful!'

  She turned as Jake came through the gate carrying Davina's case and jacket. He had waited deliberately, Davina guessed, while mother and daughter greeted each other.

  Davina turned too. 'Mum,' she said hesitantly, 'this is Jake… Jake Humphries—' Her voice failed her and she stopped.

  'The man who's finally persuaded her to get married,' Jake smiled at her mother, and once more Davina saw the charm at work. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'this will come as rather a shock, but I'm hoping in time you won't be displeased.'

  'Oh, what a surprise!' Her mother's face was a study in relief, pleasure and some curiosity. 'Well, you naughty girl,' she turned to Davina, 'why didn't you write and let us know? Anyway, why are we standing here? Come inside, both of you.' She walked in, keeping one arm round Davina. 'Welcome,' she said to Jake in the hall.

  Davina felt nervous coming into the house. She wondered if Monica and Philip were about. Her father, she guessed, would be at work.

  'I'm all alone,' her mother said, answering her unspoken question, 'and I was just thinking of making a cup of tea. I'll do that and then we can decide how to accommodate you both.'

  'Oh, no please,' protested Jake. 'I have my own arrangements. But I would love a cup of tea, and so would Davina, I'm sure, but then I must be on my way. My father is expecting me. My home is in Mevagissey.'

  'How lovely!' her mother enthused. 'You're so near,' she smiled up at him. 'Well, we'll hear about it all very soon. My husband is still at work, and Monica and her fiancé have gone into St Ives. She's at the hairdresser's, and they're stopping at the church on the way back… for a final word with the vicar, I think. Now you must excuse me, I'll go and put the kettle on.'

  She bustled off to the kitchen, and Jake put down Davina's suitcase and followed her mother.

  The house looked just the same, Davina thought, except it seemed smaller than she remembered, and the hall carpet was a little more worn. She could see into the living room where she noticed new covers on the sofa, and her . mother's plants were still everywhere, on tables, hung in baskets and standing in corners on the floor. The kitchen was always Davina's favourite room in the house. Facing south with large windows and a door to the garden, it was a real old farmhouse kitchen with a huge scrubbed wooden table and pretty china on the Welsh dresser along one wall. Her mother was busy with cakes and cups while Jake leaned comfortably against the open door.

  'Come along, love, take the tea things through.' Mrs Richards picked up the tray.

  'Oh, can't we have tea in here?' Jake pleaded. 'It's so cosy. I do love tea in the kitchen.'

  Davina looked at him open-mouthed, but said nothing, and they sat round the table, Jake quite at home as he tucked into her mother's fruit cake.

  'I see now where Davina gets her looks, Mrs Richards,' Jake said seriously.

  Davina blushed and gave him a furious look. He was really setting out to charm her mother. Well, she'd certainly put a stop to that!

  'As you can see, Mum,' she said coolly, 'Jake's a great flatterer.'

  'Not at all,' Jake came back smartly, 'I just enjoy being surrounded by beautiful women. Davina tells me her sister is another.'

  There was a moment's tense silence, and Davina was at a loss for words. What was he playing at?

  'I'm very lucky with my girls. Some mothers have problems if one daughter is less attractive than another. But both mine are gorgeous, and each in a totally different way. You'll see when you meet Monica what I mean, Mr Humphries.'

  'Jake, please,' Jake directed one of his deliberate crooked smiles at her mother, who dimpled back at him in delight.

  'Very well… Jake,' she said. 'They both have a pretty strong will, but Ina of course is the determined one with all the ambition and determination. It's because of her red hair. She has it from her father.'

  'Ina?' Jake asked, eyebrows raised.

  'Oh, hasn't she told you about that?'

  'No. She's kept that very dark.' Jake looked across at her and winked broadly. Davina gave him a furious glare in return.

  'Well—' her mother was going to launch into a family anecdote. Davina could see it coming, 'when Davina was born Monica was nearly six, but she couldn't pronounce Davina, and shortened it to "Ina", and somehow it stuck. She was only called Davina when it was punishment time.'

  'That I'm sure didn't happen often,' Jake laughed delightedly.

  'Don't mind me,' Davina said coldly. 'Perhaps you'd rather I left so that you can discuss all the finer drawbacks in my character.'

  Jake leaned across the table and flicked her cheek with one finger. 'You mustn't mind us, love. It's only those we love that we bother to tease. Isn't that right, Mrs R.?'

  Davina looked down in embarrassment as the other two laughed, delighted with each other.

  'Hello… anyone home?' It was her sister's voice in -the hall. 'It sounds like the merriment is coming from the kitchen. Let's go and see, darling, what's going on, shall we?'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  This was the moment Davina had been dreading. In one swift movement Jake was in the chair at her side, an arm draped casually about her shoulders. And then Monica was suddenly there in the doorway with Philip just behind her. Davina clenched her hands in her lap, trying to control her features, and she lifted her eyes to her sister's face as she forced herself not to look at Philip. Monica stood rigid with shock, her face grim, her smile dying as she saw her sister.

  Jake stood up, keeping his hands possessively on Davina's shoulders.

  Mrs Richards broke the tension.

  'Darlings!' she trilled, only slightly nervous. 'You're just in time for a cup of tea. Davina's here, as you can see— with a lovely surprise!' She turned to Jake. 'Jake, this is my other daughter, Monica, and her fiancé Philip Andrews. Children, you'll never guess… this is Jake Humphries, Davina's fiancé!'

  Philip came into the room and Jake straightened up. For a moment the two men looked at each other. Neither said a word. Philip was tall, but Jake topped him by almost a head. The two men nodded briefly to each other, and everyone settled down round the table.

  'May I felicitate you, Miss Richards, and wish you every happiness,' Jake said courteously. He sat down again next to Davina, one arm casually round her waist.

  'Thank you.' Monica's relief at her mother's announcement had been almost comical. 'Now it's my turn to congratulate you,' she said smilingly to Jake. Davina found herself sitting opposite Philip and looked up to see his eyes burningly intent on her face. Feeling embarrassed at his scrutiny while her sister was there, she turned to look at Monica.

  She seemed much the same, vivacious, attractive, her dark curly hair stylishly arranged for tomorrow's wedding, and still slim as she had always been, in spite of her pregnancy. It was only round the blue eyes and the mouth that Davina could see tension and something close to discontent. The mouth was more grimly set than it used to be, and the tiny network of lines round the eyes was more deeply etched. She looked up suddenly to find Davina's eyes on her, and Davina was amazed to see a quick flash of strong emotion in her sister's face, almost like hatred. Her fingers tensed, and she felt Jake's hand close over hers, holding it lightly, almost absentmindedly, his thumb rubbing gently across her wrist. The warmth from his hand penetrated her cold fingers, and she relaxed, unconsciously leaning against him. Look
ing up, she found Philip's eyes fixed on her, his face white, nostrils flared and his eyes dark with emotion.

  'Oh, dear God,' she thought, 'I can't go through with this. Here I am held by one man when the one I love is sitting opposite, engaged to my sister.'

  He hadn't changed. She noted the unruly blond hair and ached to put up her hands and smooth it down. He was still breathtakingly handsome, his eyes a deep blue under the firmly arched brows, a short nose, beautiful white teeth. Only his mouth seemed slightly more slack, the lower lip more pronounced than she remembered. Her mother was still talking.

  '… Then the wedding is at two in the village church and the reception at the Cornish Castle hotel… After that everyone will come back for a rest, and in the evening there's a dinner dance again at the hotel, a present from Philip's parents. Monica and Philip will be staying at the hotel tomorrow night and fly out for their honeymoon the next day. So you must come to any or all of that as you can. Oh, dear, I am looking forward to introducing you to everyone, Jake… oh, and will your father be able to come? It would be lovely if he could.'

  'Unfortunately, no. He's not too well at the moment. He'll be sorry to miss it.'

  'Well,' her mother said, 'we must make sure to send him some cake.' She turned to the girls. 'Now I must leave you and get on. I've still a few things to get through before your father gets home.'

  As soon as she had gone Jake broke into the awkward silence, looking down at Davina.

  'I'm afraid, darling, I have to be going too.'

  Suddenly Philip spoke. 'You're looking well, Davina,' he said flatly.

  'Thank you, Philip.' She raised her head and looked at him calmly. 'So are you.'

  'London must suit you,' he went on.

  'Yes, I like it. I have friends, a good job and a flat of my own, and I enjoy it all.'

  'Oh.' Philip sounded surprised. 'You two aren't… together, then?' he asked blandly.