Susan recovered from her sulk and explained to me that I was not going to appear in court the way I thought. There would be no need to engage Kavanagh QC for me. We were going before a judge, in chambers rather than court, to see if there was a case to answer. George was suing me for breach of promise (which sounded pretty serious to me, but what did I know), and he and I would face a judge who would then decide if there was any grounds to take the proceedings to the next level. Susan assured me that there wasn’t a judge in the land who would take George’s case seriously in a legal way. But then she had said that her letter would put a stop to it, which it hadn’t, so I was a tad reluctant to believe what she said.
I decided to believe her ‘there’s nothing to worry about’ line simply because the alternative was too exhausting. It was tiring enough anyway. Daily I would put on my make-up and try to be normal. I’d laugh about the Legal proceedings to the people I worked with. I was my usual businesslike self with my clients. I reassured Joe by making flippant comments and jokes; I did the same with my family. I was so busy that I didn’t even know how I felt about it any more; there simply wasn’t time for me to analyse my feelings. I just wanted to sleep and wake up and hope that when I did, George would have given up his crazy crusade.
I felt completely stupid for worrying; after all I couldn’t be forced into marriage, I knew I wouldn’t be, so I pretended not to worry and I teased others who did.
So I waited for the date to be announced (all George had done was to issue notification of intention to enforce the pact), and then I would put the whole sorry mess behind me.
Nearly thirty years old, in love and being sued to enforce a marriage pact that I really didn’t want enforced.
Finally I lost any sympathy I had for George. I called him, told his answerphone that he was a wanker and put down the phone, feeling better. That was as revolutionary as I got. I told Joe, who seemed to have changed his tune and decided that I shouldn’t rock the boat.
‘You’re the one who was talking about hitmen the other day,’ I accused.
‘Holly, George is definitely unstable, I don’t think that telling him he’s a wanker is going to help.’
‘I didn’t tell him, I told his answerphone,’ I shouted. Then I smiled. I didn’t like being told I was wrong, but I didn’t want to argue with Joe. I gave him a kiss.
‘What are we going to do?’ Joe asked, suddenly looking sad.
‘Not sure,’ I replied, truthfully.
‘We have to do something Holly. I don’t like the idea of leaving it to the law, especially as he’s a lawyer.’
‘Me either, but we don’t have a choice. We’ll wait to get the date and then we’ll go and we’ll win and put it all behind us.’ For some reason I felt as if I was talking to a child, but I think that was more for my benefit than for his.
‘But George is taking you to court to try to enforce your marriage pact.’
‘Yes, but there is no way any judge would go in his favour.’
‘You’re sure about that?’
‘Well as sure as my lawyer can be. What do you suggest?’
‘I was talking to Dave about it last night and he thought that I should do something. He suggested that you let me deal with George.’
‘Oh did he? And when you say “deal” I guess you mean “kick the shit out of”?’ Dave was a friend of Joe’s and looked a bit thuggish. But Joe said he was a pussy cat.
‘No. Just talk to him, maybe I can make him see reason.’
‘I don’t mean to be rude to you or Dave, but neither of you know George. You can try to talk to him but remember I already did that and he tied me up in knots. He’d do the same to you, in fact he’d probably end up getting your support.’
‘That wouldn’t happen.’ Joe was indignant.
‘No, I didn’t mean it like that. But George is a lawyer, a good lawyer, and he’s also nuts. A crazy lawyer is a lethal combination, we’ve already discovered that and I think we’d better leave it alone.’
‘I feel like I should be doing something.’
‘You are, you’re supporting me. And you’re doing it marvellously.’ I smiled. Containing macho male behaviour was becoming something of a regular thing.
‘Why did you make that marriage pact?’ he asked. It was the first time he’d asked me that.
‘Because we decided no one would ever love us. I was incredibly drunk; it was a joke, something that should never have come back to haunt me in this way. I keep asking myself the same question, but I could never in a million years imagine that it would have had this effect.’
‘I bet you wish you hadn’t done it though.’
‘Of course I do. Joe, can we forget it for now?’ I wanted to relax, and although I knew that Joe was feeling threatened by the whole thing I just wanted to pretend that I was Holly Miller in a normal relationship, without the black cloud of George hanging over me. But I wasn’t going to get that opportunity. Joe stood up and started pacing.
‘I can’t forget it. I feel like I should be doing something. There must be a way to stop him.’
‘We could kill him,’ I joked.
‘That’s not funny Holly. There is one way to put a stop to him, though.’
‘What?’ I was listening to Joe but my brain was beginning to tune out. Discussions about George were getting tedious. I looked up at Joe wondering if it was time for me to be a bit more understanding. He was pacing the room. ‘Joe, what is it? You know that the only reason I’m able to be flippant about this is because I feel certain in my love for you.’ I thought that should help.
‘I know, but if we didn’t have to worry about George then things would be much better, wouldn’t they?’
‘I guess.’ I was finding the conversation tiresome. I was also finding Joe’s pacing irritating.
‘Then let’s get married.’ I nearly fell off my chair. Did I hear right?
‘Joe, did you just say what I think you said?’
‘Yup. It makes sense. If we get married quickly, and I think we can, then you’ll be married by the time you’re thirty and George won’t have a case.’ Joe had stopped pacing, and although he hadn’t gone down on one knee he looked so earnest. I did something that I really shouldn’t have done; I burst out laughing. Joe adopted a very sulky expression.
‘I’m glad you find my proposal amusing.’ This made me laugh more. It was probably closer to hysteria than normal laughter and once I started I couldn’t stop. Joe tried really hard to look upset but, he couldn’t quite stop his lips from twitching.
‘Sweetheart, I’m sorry for laughing,’ I said, when I had resumed control. ‘But you have to admit that it’s not the most romantic of proposals and it’s the second non-romantic proposal I’ve received lately. You know, every girl dreams of the day when the man she loves asks her to marry him, but you just asked me to stop George, not because you want to. I couldn’t marry you for the wrong reasons, it’s not the proper basis for a marriage.’ Now I was serious. I didn’t want Joe to ask me to marry him just to get George off our backs.
‘But I do love you,’ he protested.
‘And I love you, but this isn’t right. And when I do get married I want the works. You know: big dress, hen night, church wedding, great big reception. Not a day organised in a hurry and conducted in a Registry Office.’
‘I understand. Yeah, you’re right. Shit, do you think I’m turning as mad as he is?’
‘No, darling, you’re not, but I think you’re possibly letting this affect you a bit too much.’
‘Then I’ll try not to.’
‘Good, come on, I’ll buy you a pint.’
We left the flat for the pub and not only was a row averted, but also all talk of George ceased.
Chapter Twelve
Two days days before my thirtieth birthday I received a call from Susan, who told me in her monotone voice (for which I had developed an aversion), that we would be going before the judge in the first week in March. Again, she droned on about how soon i
t was and she seemed wrong-footed by this. I put down the phone, went straight to Francesca who assured me that Susan did have a law degree.
‘Holly, you don’t have to like her, you just have to let her sort this out for you.’
‘What if she bores the judge so much that he decides to make me marry George?’
‘I hardly think that’s likely.’
‘Well, she doesn’t sound very sure of herself. She said she was surprised that the date came through so quickly. I would rather have a solicitor who wasn’t surprised.’
‘What’s really bothering you?’ Francesca could be very perceptive.
‘Don’t know really. Look, let’s plan my birthday celebration. Do you want to know what to buy me?’
The long-awaited day arrived; I was thirty. I had shelved all plans of parties, because I realised that I would rather spend time with the people I really cared about, my close friends. I know it sounds a bit boring, but at least it meant that I wouldn’t have to put up with a load of drunken strangers. In order to placate people I arranged to have a meal with my work colleagues after my birthday.
I had visited my family the weekend before (Joe was at a work conference), and I was spending the day with Joe and the evening with Freddie, Lisa, Max, Francesca and Joe. It was exactly what I wanted. Not very rock and roll, but then I was a grown-up now and I wanted to do grown-up things. My first dinner party of my thirtieth year, it seemed a good and civilised way to start.
When I woke up and saw Joe lying next to me, I finally realised that for once I was right, and this was my life and I would no longer let George run or ruin it. I shook Joe awake.
‘Happy Birthday!’
‘I can’t believe I’m thirty. I don’t know whether to be happy or in mourning for my youth, but I believe it should start with my first fuck of my new decade.’
‘Holly, you can be really dirty.’
‘Shut up and get your pants off.’
After we made love, Joe went to make breakfast. I opened the cards and presents that I’d been sent. A cheque from my parents and a necklace; a box of Jo Malone goodies from my sister and her husband; cards from various relatives; and Joe gave me a painting of a beach, which reminded me of home.
I spoke to my family, and Joe took me ice-skating, which was hilarious because neither of us could skate. Then we went back to my place.
I opened the front door and found a small package with a card attached sitting on the doormat. It had no stamp, and was wrapped elaborately with ribbons flowing everywhere. I recognised the handwriting on the card immediately. George!
‘Why couldn’t he leave me alone for one day,’ I said to Joe as I picked up the package with shaking hands. Instinctively I knew what it was, and I thrust it at Joe as I ran up the stairs, let myself into my flat and flew to the bathroom. I felt sick. When I came out, Joe was waiting for me with a look of concern on his face and the package in his hand.
‘Open it please,’ I asked him. He kissed my forehead and read the card. Looking concerned he handed it to me.
Dear Holly, it read, Happy thirtieth birthday to my future wife. All my love and more, George xxxx
I looked at Joe. ‘He’s lost it, completely.’
‘Holly, don’t let him ruin today, please.’
‘Joe, open the present.’ He looked at the wrapped box in his hand, then looked at me. I think he knew what it was. ‘Open it,’ I whispered. His hands shook as he removed the paper, he did it so delicately as my mother used to do when she was saving wrapping paper, a habit we never managed to get her to break. Finally he pulled out a small leather box. He stopped and looked at me again, but already I had tears streaming down my face. ‘Open it,’ I begged him.
The ring was platinum with a large solitaire. It wasn’t the sort of ring I would choose, a thought I banished as soon as it entered my head. The ring wasn’t relevant. What was relevant was that my boyfriend was standing in my sitting room holding an engagement ring bought for me by someone else. Although I was crying, the absurdity of the situation hit me. Joe looked upset, I thought he would soon be crying too.
‘I am going to take this ring and shove it up his arse,’ he said. I laughed. ‘Holly it’s not funny. Not even a bit funny.’ His face was full of rage and I didn’t doubt he would take the ring to George.
‘Sorry, but I am not letting him ruin today. We’ve had more fun than in ages because of him, so I reckon that we should just order a courier and get them to return it to him, without an explanation.’
‘I’d rather shove it up his arse.’
‘I know, but darling he’s already suing me, I’m not sure that it would be wise to have him suing you as well.’ I started laughing, as Joe stood there shaking his fist indignantly at the ring box.
‘Promise me something,’ I said as the tears of laughter streamed down my face. ‘Promise me if you ever want to marry me you’ll get me a nicer, more subtle ring.’ Finally, Joe cracked a smile and the situation that could have been a disaster was aborted.
I put the ring in an envelope and called a courier to bike it round to George’s flat in the city. I instructed them that if he wasn’t there to sign for it, they could just drop it through his letter box, after all that was what he did, although he probably delivered it himself. Then I persuaded Joe to content himself with tearing up the card. Suddenly I realised that I had been very selfish. I had been crying, confused and upset over George’s behaviour, but it was hard for Joe. He wasn’t allowed to exercise his macho instincts and beat up George, or even warn him off. I was the person dealing with it, but he had to deal with me and with the fact that his relationship was being threatened.
‘You know, one day we’ll laugh about this,’ I told him, trying to believe it would be true.
‘Maybe, but at the moment he’s gone too far.’
‘Let’s forget it just for today.’
‘OK, but if I ever get my hands on him.’
‘I know. If you do he’ll be pulp.’
Joe isn’t a big man. He’s tall, about six foot, and he’s slim. He doesn’t have a hard look about him, his features are almost pretty. His dark hair is shortish, his eyes are friendly, his mouth is nearly always smiling. George is bigger than Joe and I wouldn’t like to say who would win in a fight, but I have a feeling that George would. George is a maniac, he’s proved that and Joe isn’t. Maniacs are always stronger than sane people, like in films. When psychos are dying, it always takes them forever to draw their last breath.
*
Freddie turned up to help Joe with my birthday dinner. He gave me a beautiful white orchid, and brought a couple of bottles of champagne.
‘Thought you might need a drink,’ he said.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Now that you’re old of course. I was going to see if everyone in the office would chip in for a facelift but I think it’s a bit late for that.’
‘Freddie, I love you.’
Freddie and Joe insisted I take a long bath and get ready while they cooked. I was banished from the kitchen and made the most of the time I had to pamper myself. As it was my birthday, I put on a dress and some stockings and high heels. I put up my hair and applied my make-up as if I was going out. I was pleased with the result; I scrubbed up quite well even if I say so myself.
Everyone was sat round my dining table. I had received more gifts, drank more champagne, and we had just been given our starters: prawn cocktail. I realised that although Freddie and Joe had spent a long time in the kitchen, they hadn’t actually cooked much.
‘What’s for main?’ I asked as I scooped up a spoonful of prawns.
‘Beef Wellington.’
‘That’s ambitious,’ Francesca said, looking mildly relieved that he didn’t say fish fingers and chips.
‘Actually the butcher made it, I just ordered it,’ Joe admitted.
Francesca looked even more relieved.
‘But we did bake the cake,’ Freddie said.
‘You did?’ I asked, feeling
touched.
‘Yes, and I think you’ll be impressed,’ Joe said.
‘I’m sure we will,’ Francesca agreed, but didn’t look very certain.
‘We could have gone out,’ Lisa said, playing with her starter.
‘It’s not that bad is it?’ Joe asked.
‘No, it’s fine,’ Max replied, then he laughed. ‘No offence to you guys, but well you bought a beef dish from the butcher, you shoved some prawns in the mayonnaise, it’s not exactly Delia Smith is it?’
‘But I appreciate the effort,’ I said quickly, in case they took offence. Just as the last prawn was being polished off, the phone rang. Immediately everyone went quiet. ‘I’ll get it,’ I said as Joe started to get up. As I walked to the phone, all eyes were on me.
‘Hello,’ I said, knowing full well who was on the other end.
‘Happy Birthday Holly.’ He sounded sad. Again I almost felt sorry for him but sternly and silently told my heartstrings to stop tugging.
‘Thank you.’ At least I could be civil.
‘Didn’t you like the ring?’ he asked.
I laughed. ‘George, it has nothing to do with whether I liked the ring, the fact is that I don’t want an engagement ring from you and I don’t want to marry you.’ I saw that Joe had got out of his seat, then I saw Freddie pull him back down.
‘Well that’s blunt. I’m still taking you to court, Holly.’
‘Fine George, that’s absolutely fine. Brilliant. Thanks a fucking bunch for calling me on my birthday to remind me of that.’ Actually I was quite calm but George had got away with enough.
‘Nice language. You didn’t have to be so horrible about the ring.’
‘I did. And now I have to go. See you in court.’ I hung up before he could respond.
My guests had gone all quiet.
‘Come on, don’t look like that. Let’s all get absolutely pissed, and forget about George.’
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