Wedding in the Family

by Susan Alexander

  Monica just stood there, holding the tea tray not saying anything. Davina pulled on a dressing gown and took the tray.

  'Have you got time to have a quick one with me?' she smiled.

  'No', Monica's voice was sullen, 'I've too much to do,' and she turned to the door. But Davina was before her. She closed the door before Monica reached it and turned to face her sister.

  'I'm sorry I didn't get back last night to help unpack the presents… Jake particularly asked what you would like. He's very keen to get you something you really want.'

  'There's no need for him to get anything,' Monica said dully, 'although he can obviously afford it. You've done extremely well for yourself, haven't you?'

  Davina didn't say anything, but poured a cup of tea.

  'I wondered if you had a coffee percolator. You always used to like your coffee percolated.'

  'No, we haven't,' Monica said unhelpfully. 'Why didn't you ask Philip last night?'

  Davina gasped.

  'Did you think it was a dead secret that you went to see him?' Monica asked harshly.

  'But I didn't…' Davina began.

  Monica interrupted, 'I don't know why you're here. I didn't want you to come. I let Mum persuade me into writing that invitation.'

  'You told Philip I was married,' Davina accused her sister.

  'That's right,' Monica snapped. 'You still don't understand anything at all about love, do you? You never loved Philip, only he doesn't know it, and I can see you don't really love your Jake. Perhaps you're just cold and frigid and can never really love anyone. But I love Philip, and I'd do anything to keep him from you… lie, cheat, steal, anything. Can you understand that?' Her voice broke. 'Oh, God, why did you have to come back?'

  Davina whitened at the hatred in Monica's voice.

  'You really do hate me,' she whispered.

  'Yes, I do! And the sooner you get away from here, the better I shall like it. I suppose Philip told you a sob-story about how he's marrying me because he feels sorry for me, responsible for the baby I'm going to have.' Monica's voice rose in anger. 'Well, you don't know him, not the way I do. He really does love me. You're just a dream, a fairytale virgin he can escape to in his mind whenever things get rough and real life gets him down. But live with your sanctimonious, pious goodness every day of his life? He'd go nuts! He wouldn't stand it for a week. I'm much more his type than you ever were.' She moved to stand over Davina as she sat on the bed. 'And if poisoning his mind against you is going to help him realise he loves me, then that's what I'll do! And now go… go and don't come back, ever. We none of us need you any more, Not even Dad. He loves me now, not you. I'm his favourite, the apple of his eye. And you know what? I like it that way!'

  She raised her voice, the venom in it close to hysteria, and Davina turned away in horror. Was there to be no end to the hatred and violence? What had happened to her family? Where had it all come from? Was Monica right? Was she herself frigid, cold, unable to love anyone? She looked at Monica, her eyes expressionless.

  'I'm going,' she said quietly. 'If it wasn't for Mum, I'd go before the wedding, but I can't do that to her.'

  'Please yourself.' Monica had quietened down. 'Once we're married I don't care what you do. Then I've got him. And I know you… you'd never take a married man from his wife.' Her tone was bitter.

  'I'm sorry, Monica,' said Davina quietly. 'I'd hoped we could reach some kind of understanding, you and I. You're older than I am and more experienced, I know that. But, even if we'd met during the last two years, I would never have made mischief between you and Philip. You should have known that. There was no need to lie to him about…'

  Monica said nothing and turned her back on her sister.

  'Anyway,' Davina went on, 'after today, we don't have to meet again if you want it that way.'

  'You can stay tonight, if you like,' Monica said ungraciously. 'I don't want Mum upset, and she would be if you just went off. I don't care if Philip snatches a few kisses on the dance floor, because by then he'll be mine. Anyway, your Jake might have something to say about that. He strikes me as the possessive sort—and overbearing. I wish you joy of him. Give me a man I can wind round my finger when I need to. I wouldn't want to tangle with your fiancé.'

  'You're not being asked to,' Davina said tartly, more than a little angry at her sister's tone.

  'Do you know, you're just as childish as you were two years ago about men?' sneered Monica. 'You haven't learnt a thing. Well, I can tell you, one doesn't mess about with men like Jake Humphries. I know his type. Once he's got you to love him and do what he wants, he'll be out amusing himself as no doubt he's used to do.'

  'It seems to me,' Davina said quietly, 'you have enough on your hands without taking on my fiancé as well.'

  'Well, don't say I didn't warn you,' Monica said triumphantly, and flounced out of the room.

  Davina sat stunned on the bed, feeling again the urge to run away, from everyone. But she knew that to be impossible. Somehow she had to get through the day… and tomorrow with Jake and his father. But she was not going to sit and think about it. She had a quick shower and pulled on some tight black jeans with a matching mohair sweater, leaving her hair loose, tied back with a black ribbon, then she ran down to the kitchen to find her mother.

  'Good morning, darling.' Her mother was in the kitchen. In an overall with her hair tied into a scarf she looked a little distracted.

  'I'm so sorry to sleep so late, Mum. I meant to be down ages ago and give you a hand.'

  'Nonsense, this is a holiday for you and it's pretty well all done.' Mrs Richards looked at her daughter rather pointedly. 'Everything all right?' she queried.

  'Yes, of course.' Davina's voice was deliberately light and she did not look directly at her mother. 'I just lost my cool last night. I think I must have been a bit tired. But a walk cleared my head.'

  'Good.' She could see her mother decided to accept that explanation. 'In that case you must be starving, and I'll cook you some breakfast.'

  'No way.' Davina was emphatic. 'All I want is toast and coffee, and I can make some of that myself.'

  'Very well, dear,' her mother sounded relieved, 'I'll leave you to help yourself. You won't mind if I'm in and out and not entirely with it?'

  Davina lit the grill and cut bread. 'Now tell me what I can do this morning and what exactly is happening.'

  'Well, the hairdresser will be here at twelve and will do my hair first. After that he'll be with Monica and do her veil. Then I'll slip into my things and leave for church. After that only Dad and Monica will remain. I think that's about it. Sounds quite simple, doesn't it? I don't know why I'm in such a dither… Your father has locked himself into the study with the presents… oh, that reminds me, the best man will be here for those in… what's the time?… oh dear, in half an hour,' and she wandered off.

  Davina was sitting down to her toast when the front door rang. She heard Monica's voice in the hall.

  'Jake, what a lovely surprise! Can you find her for yourself? I think she's in the kitchen.'

  There was a low murmur from Jake and then her mother. 'Jake, how nice! How are you this morning? And how is your father?'

  Another low reply from Jake's deep voice, and then he appeared in the kitchen doorway. He was dressed for the wedding in a pale grey suit of fine mohair with toning silk shirt and darker tie. As always he seemed enormously vital. Davina blinked for a moment, quite tongue-tied at his magnificence and the power he seemed to exude. His look travelled from her sweater down the tight jeans and then up to the silky hair hanging down her back. For a moment he stood quite still just looking at her, then he moved and kissed her lightly on the top of her head.

  'Good morning, Cinderella,' he said. 'Are you coming?'

  'I… was… er… hoping you wouldn't mind, Jake, if I left you to it. I know what it is they want, and there's an awful lot to do… and I'm afraid I overslept, and I've only just come down.'

  He looked at her intently, noting her hurried
, awkward speech and the pallor of her face. She refused to look at him, keeping her eyes on her toast which she was still spreading rather slowly.

  'I see. Well, of course, if you want to stay, I'll manage without you…'

  'Certainly not!' her mother interrupted. 'Take her away, Jake, for goodness' sake. She'll only be in the way here. I'll be glad to see the back of her for an hour or two.'

  'Well,' Davina looked at her mother, 'that's just great!'

  'No, really, darling, everything is done. After all, it's not as though we're having the reception here. Go on, off you go. I'm sure a drive will do you good.'

  'Well, I can't go like this with you all dressed up…'

  Davina blushed.

  'Like a dog's dinner?' Jake finished for her. 'Yes, that is a problem, but I'm determined not to let it worry me. So finish your breakfast and let's get going.'

  'I'll leave you to it, then. Don't forget, Jake, to have her back in time to change.'

  'That's a promise,' he said, and Mrs Richards went off.

  Jake had not sat down and now he walked over to the window, his back to Davina.

  'You look terrible,' he said quietly, and turned back to face her. 'Have you seen Philip?'

  'I didn't sleep very well…' she began.

  'Spare me the details,' he interrupted, his voice hard. 'Was it the grand reunion you'd hoped for, I wonder?'

  Davina said nothing.

  'You're a fool, Davina, do you know that?' he said evenly.

  'Yes,' she said simply.

  'Stop maltreating that toast,' he said curtly. 'I suggest you leave it and we go.' He walked over to the table and picked up her left hand, Absentmindedly he touched the ring he had given her only the day before, looking into its luminous green depths. Deliberately he turned the hand over and bent his head to put his lips firmly against the open palm.

  Davina quivered at his touch, but surprise kept her still, while strange sensations were shooting up her arm to her heart and she began to tremble with some kind of weak-ness. At last the caress ended, and Jake lifted his head to look straight into her eyes. A shaft of feeling seemed to crackle between them as grey eyes looked into grey. Then he straightened, keeping her hand in his, and pulled her up from the table and out.

  As they emerged into the hall she stopped. Her father was coming out of the study.

  'Good morning, Dad,' she said nervously.

  'Good morning, Davina.'

  'Dad, I'd like you to meet Jake Humphries. Jake, this is my father.'

  'How do you do, sir.' Jake walked towards him with outstretched hand. 'I'm very happy to meet you.'

  Her father stood still. He did not take the outstretched hand, and Jake dropped it to his side.

  'I was hoping, sir,' he said, 'to have a talk with you, but I realise this week-end isn't a good time.'

  Her father spoke at last.

  'I understand you and my daughter are engaged to be married.'

  'I hope, sir, with your permission…'

  'You must know,' Mr Richards interrupted, 'Davina doesn't want to be married. She likes older men, but she doesn't marry them. The last one she liked was old enough to be her father.'

  The words dropped like leaden weights into the silence of the hall. Davina fought against a sudden feeling of intense nausea and prayed she would not faint.

  'I beg your pardon?' Jake's voice was icy.

  Her father replied, his voice cold and indifferent, his face a controlled mask, 'I see you're a man of the world and a good deal older than my daughter. Perhaps you also are old enough to be her father. Older men with a wide experience of women often appeal to young girls. And Davina started young to have love affairs, but unfortunately they never last. Even when she promises marriage, as she has with you, it won't last. She won't marry you. The last man to whom she promised herself in marriage is marrying her sister today.'

  'Father, please don't…' Davina's voice died to silence as she realised he had said everything there was to say. He had humiliated her, stripped her of all self-respect. She wanted to run and never come back, never have to see any of them again, but her legs wouldn't carry her. She knew if she took a step she would fall. So she leaned weakly against the wall behind her.

  Then Jake spoke, quietly, in a voice of frightening menace.

  'Your age, sir, and your relationship to Davina make it impossible for me to deal with you as I would with any other man who had dared to say such things. None of them are true, as I have reason to know. She has integrity and compassion, qualities rare in women of any age, and I pity you that you can't appreciate your own daughter.' He was breathing heavily, his face white, nostrils flared, and Davina realised he was having trouble controlling his anger. 'But even if what you say about her was true and we were having an affair and I was old enough to be her father, it would still not give you the right to speak of her as you have done. If circumstances were different I would take her away and not allow her back until I had your abject apology. But I have too much respect for Mrs Richards to behave so selfishly, and I don't think Davina would let me. Since it's her sister's wedding, we'll be in church and at the reception and at the dance. But I shall be there to protect her from the kind of hurt and humiliation you've inflicted on her here today.'

  He turned and walked to the front door.

  'I'll wait for you in the car, Davina,' he said quietly, and let himself out.

  'Oh, Dad,' she whispered, 'what have you done? And why?'

  Her father turned and, without a word or a look, went back into his study, closing the door.

  Davina walked unsteadily to the front door and out. The cool breeze against her face steadied her slightly. She closed the door behind her and made for the steps. But suddenly she realised she wouldn't make it. She could feel her legs buckle… she knew she would fall and she called out.

  Jake must have been watching for her. Before she reached the ground he had leapt up the steps and was beside her, lifting her and carrying her to the car. He put her gently into the front seat, closed the door and got in behind the wheel. Within minutes they were away from the house, Davina leaning back, eyes closed, breathing in gulps of fresh air from the open window.

  The car stopped, but she didn't move.

  'Drink this,' Jake commanded, holding a flask to her lips.

  'No…' she said weakly.

  'Drink it,' he repeated.

  'I'm trying not to be sick,' she whispered.

  'This will help. Come on, Davina, don't be silly. It's only brandy.'

  She took a little as he tipped the flask to her mouth and the liquid burned her throat, but her head cleared and the nausea passed.

  Jake sat back and all she could hear was the tick of the clock and the sudden soar of birdsong in the quiet country road.

  'Davina, is that why you were so frightened to come home?' He turned to look at her.

  'No. I didn't know about this till last night. I guessed he hadn't believed me about Philip, that time… two years ago. But I had no idea he'd become so bitter and… twisted about me.'

  'Now I understand why you look so awful,' he said quietly.

  Not all of it, she thought wryly. She made an effort to pull herself together and think coherently. 'Davina,' he said, not looking at her, 'is there anything else… I mean, are there going to be any more surprises coming our way this week-end?'

  'No.'

  'That means you've seen Philip,' he said flatly as he started the car.

  'Yes.'

  'All right, let's go.'

  Half an hour later they were sitting comfortably in the lounge of the luxurious Cornish Castle where Jake was staying the night. He had ordered coffee, toast and cognac which he insisted Davina eat and drank. After a while she began to feel more normal and tried to talk to him.

  'I would like to say something about what happened at home…' she began hesitantly.

  'When you're feeling stronger, Davina,' he interrupted curdy. 'You'll need all your energy to get through the rest
of the day. And I don't think I can take any more emotional upsets. I've had enough for one day.'

  His voice was cold, his eyes indifferent as they rested on her face. She looked down at her hands, feeling unexpectedly bereft. She had become used to his support in the last twenty-four hours, his understanding, his attention. Now he was withdrawing from her, she felt suddenly lost and wondered why his coolness should be hurtful.

  She looked at him. He was scanning the room, glancing round at other people, and she thought he was probably bored with her, with the wedding. And she couldn't blame him. He was sitting, hands in his pockets, long legs stretched out in front, his height and elegance reducing to insignificance every other man in the room. Davina noticed the envious looks she was getting from women who glanced at him as they passed through, openly admiring, conscious of his magnetism. The profile turned to her was hard and unyielding, the lips tightly compressed, the chin thrust forward and the forehead drawn into a heavy frown.

  Had her sister been right about him? Was he the kind of man to make a girl fall in love and become dependent and then leave her to amuse himself elsewhere with other women, even after marriage?

  'Please will you listen to me for a moment?' she asked.

  Jake sighed impatiently.

  'Very well, since you're determined, but make it short, Davina, whatever it is. My patience is wearing a bit thin.'

  Undeterred by his brusqueness, she rushed into speech.

  'There's no longer any need to go on with this arrangement… the engagement, I mean, coming to the wedding and all that. I can manage quite well on my own now, and, as you saw, my father doesn't need protection, as I thought.' He wasn't helping her by looking straight ahead and not saying a word, she thought. 'What I'm trying to say is, if you'd rather go home and not come to the wedding, that's quite all right. I can say your father wasn't well and you were called away… you needn't feel obliged to be there because you told my family you would be. They would all understand.' She stopped.

  'Have you finished?' he asked tersely.

  'Yes.'

  'I thought that's what you were bursting to tell me, and I didn't want to discuss it, but since you've forced it on me, there's something that I should have said to you earlier.' He did not look at her. 'You may have noticed during our working partnership that I live to please myself. I don't undertake commitments that I don't want to have, nor do I promise to do things I don't want to do. When I said I wanted this arrangement, I had my reasons, and those still hold. If I'd wanted to get out of coming with you, I could have made any number of opportunities to do so. Am I making myself clear?' His voice was crisp and impatient.