The Wedding Day

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The Wedding Day Page 15

by Catherine Alliott


  ‘Couldn’t find them,’ she said, teeth chattering. ‘Didn’t look, you mean. They’re in my bottom drawer, along with my new swimming costume. This one’s ancient.’

  ‘Sorry. Well, we can go back to the house and get them. I’ll race you, OK?’

  I grinned. ‘OK.’

  She stopped and got on her marks. ‘Ready, steady – Oh, cheat!’

  But I was off. Knowing my daughter at nearly thirteen believed that she could beat me, I sprinted ahead of her. Flora, shrieking with indignation behind me and yelling that she hadn’t said go and wasn’t ready, was nevertheless gaining on me. I heard her pounding up behind me. She’d never beaten me yet though, I thought, hysteria mounting. We raced past the summer house and up the back lawn, screeching with laughter and shoving each other aside, neck and neck, up to the house, and were just hurtling around the corner, yelling at the tops of our voices and heading for the back door – when suddenly we skidded to a halt in our tracks. Flora cannoned into me, nearly knocking me over, and we held on to each other, gulping and wheezing, steadying ourselves, as we gaped, horrified. For there, in the sunshine, on the crumbling, mossy terrace, around a wrought-iron table and sharing a jug of Pimm’s, sat Matt, Adam, and a girl of quite astonishing beauty. My jaw dropped.

  ‘Well, hey,’ drawled Adam, looking me up and down. ‘Look at this. What have you come as, Annie? Lady Godiva?’

  I glanced down at my white swimsuit, which, being old and thin, had become completely transparent in the wet, so that with a dark patch between my legs and pink nipples poking through I looked totally naked. Horrified, I snatched the scrap of towel from Flora and dangled it ineffectually in front of me.

  ‘Adam!’

  ‘Daring, Annie, at your age, don’t you think?’ he mused. ‘But actually, I’d say you pretty much pulled it off, wouldn’t you, Matt? Oh, this is Cozzy, by the way, who’s totally intrigued by the cool little ménage à trois thing you and David have got going here. She’s dying to find out more. Hi, Flora, darlin’, how ya doin’?’ He broke off to kiss his daughter who’d draped wet arms delightedly around his neck.

  ‘Daddy!’ She kissed his cheek, tipping his baseball cap off. ‘Didn’t know you were coming!’

  ‘I’m going up to change,’ I muttered as I sidled past them. Matt, I noticed, tactfully averted his eyes. I darted through the back door and scurried through the house to the hall and on up the stairs, appalled.

  When I got to my room, I recoiled in horror as I gazed at the apparition in the mirror.

  ‘Shit!’ I squeaked, instinctively covering my bits with my hands.

  I ripped the wretched costume off and threw it angrily on the floor, grabbing a towel. Damn. Damn. How could I have stood there like that in front of Adam? And what the hell was he doing here, for Christ’s sake, without even ringing me, sitting on my back step with Matt, sipping a glass of Pimm’s? Matt, for crying out loud, who wouldn’t even stop for a cup of coffee with me. And – and her, Cocksy or whatever the hell her name was: God, she was gorgeous. She wasn’t what I’d expected at all, so – so tact-lessly young, and unlined and slim and … Steady, Annie, steady. I gripped the rim of my chest of drawers for support and breathed hard. Shut my eyes tight.

  When I opened them again, I regarded my reflection in the mirror. My dark eyes looked wide and scared in my pale face. My heart was racing. Hardly surprising, I thought grimly. I’d never actually trod this territory before, had I? Never actually been here. Because in all my years of anguish with Adam, all my years of broken hearts and dreams and promises, although I’d known about the other women, I’d never actually seen him with one. Never seen him sitting beside one, in the flesh, as a couple, like they were down there. I swallowed hard, knowing the palms of my hands were sweaty as they clutched the furniture, knowing still what he could do to me.

  Steady, Annie, I muttered to myself again. Just take it easy. Get dressed, and go down. Slowly.

  A few moments later I was walking back out, nonchalantly drying my hair with my towel, dressed in a linen shirt and silk trousers, going for sophistication in the face of her youth. God, how young was she, I thought as she smiled up at me. Nineteen? Twenty? She didn’t look much older than Flora, with her long blonde hair and those endless legs coming out of tiny frayed denim shorts. She looked like one long, slim erogenous zone sitting there, rendering my own little zones – the ones I’d so brazenly displayed to the assembled company less than two minutes ago – risible in comparison. I breathed deeply as Matt pulled out a chair for me.

  ‘Thanks.’

  I smiled and turned to my ex-husband with what I hoped was breezy confidence. ‘Adam, you should have warned me. I didn’t know you were coming. I would have stocked up the fridge. Got in some alcopops or whatever it is you youngsters drink.’

  He grinned good-naturedly. ‘Didn’t know your number. I only had your address, and your mobile was turned off, so Cozzy and I thought we’d head on over. I had no idea your place was so close. We’re literally only about half an hour away, aren’t we, honey?’

  He turned to honey, slumped as he was in his chair in his baggy cargo pants and white T-shirt, and stretched out a tanned hand to take her tiny one. He looked gorgeous, as ever. They looked gorgeous. Made a gorgeous couple.

  ‘Thanks,’ I muttered as Matt poured me a drink from the jug of Pimm’s.

  ‘And when I looked it up on the map, I thought, well, hey, that’s so close. I know, we’ll pick Flora up and have her here for the night. Take her out for a curry or something. Would you like that, sweetheart?’ He turned to look at her.

  ‘Oh Mum, can I?’ Flora, curled on the grass between Adam and Cozzy’s feet, glanced up. I noticed she was fiddling with the fringe on Cozzy’s suede bag.

  ‘Of course.’ I smiled. ‘But don’t forget there’s Clare’s barbecue tomorrow night. You might like to be back for that. See all your cousins.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll drop her back there, don’t worry,’ Adam said. He grinned. ‘And you’ll be going to that with Matt here, will you?’ He jerked his head and winked. ‘Matt very kindly showed me to your drinks cupboard earlier and explained your domestic arrangements. Exotic, I must say.’ He waggled his eyebrows.

  ‘I think you’ll find your husband’s setting you up,’ said Matt easily. ‘I certainly explained the circumstances, but I don’t recall mentioning anything exotic.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I said, hopefully equally easily. ‘Adam delights in setting me up. It’s his speciality. And he’s my ex-husband, incidentally.’

  ‘Only according to a bit of paper,’ said Adam quickly. ‘A legal and binding bit of paper,’ I retorted. Then I remembered Flora. No fights. ‘So,’ I went on brightly, ‘you’re close by. That’s nice.’

  ‘Not as nice as this,’ he said, looking around in grudging admir ation. ‘Really landed on your feet here, Annie. I can see why you didn’t want to give it up, although I’m surprised the good doctor condones this arrangement. Cozzy was pretty staggered by that, weren’t you, sweetheart?’

  He turned to her, and she flicked back her hair in preparation for speech. She’d yet to utter a word.

  ‘Well, I jus’ thought it was everso funny, that’s all. I thought it was reelly, reelly strange, like, all three of you sharin’ together!’ She giggled, and I nearly went down on my knees with joy. Oh thank you, God, thank you. A truly terrible voice. Terrible! A high-pitched, Liverpudlian whine that would make even Cilla wince.

  ‘Your mother rents a place down here, I gather?’ I said, pointedly ignoring her last remark, but wanting to hear more of that spectacular accent. She set off obligingly, fulsomely even, regaling us with the pros and cons of renting a house in the West Country, and all in a high-pitched monologue.

  ‘… yeah, an’ on the one hand it’s reelly luverly to be in a familiar ’ouse by the sea, like, but it is a bit of a tie cos you never get to go abroad like yer mates do – you know, Soty Grandy and Ibifa an’ that – cos then you lose yer slot. But what’s reell
y lucky is we’re a reelly big family – I’ve gorra lorra brothers an’ sisters, see – so there’s always someone to fill the slot.’

  Adam chuckled smuttily. ‘I’d always fill your slot, darling.’

  ‘So that’s reelly nice, like, and you know, if the weather’s orright, well, why go abroad? You only get a lorra dodgy food an’ the runs an’ that – our Gary got terrible trots in Gozo, everso poorly ’e was – so you might as well be ’ere ’avin’ a pasty and …’

  Excellent. Excellent. I sat back, lapping it all up, and hoping every tortured decibel was destroying her sexual allure, although I have to say neither Matt nor Adam seemed put off by it; they were hanging on to every word that fell from her bee-stung lips.

  Finally though, after another weighty chapter entitled ‘How all me brothers’ an’ sisters’ kiddies love fishin’ in the rock poowels and how I still like doing it wiv them’, she ground to a halt.

  I cleared my throat. ‘Well, Flora.’ I turned to my daughter. ‘If Daddy’s taking you off for the night, perhaps you’d better go and pack a bag?’

  ‘OK. Oh, Cozzy, d’you want to see my room? It’s got a really cool view of the sea.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I’d reelly love to. Thanks, Flora!’

  And up she bounced from her chair in her tiny denim shorts and followed Flora inside. They looked for all the world, the pair of them, like a couple of schoolgirls. Adam even reached out and patted her pert little behind possessively, grinning proudly as the pair of them disappeared.

  It hurt me though, to see how well they got on, Flora and Cozzy. I could see how Flora might adore having this big girl around, as younger girls did, and that Adam had been telling the truth when he’d said Flora thought she was terrific. And no doubt she was. No doubt she was sweet and kind to Flora, and I was just being a snobby cow because she was with Adam. I breathed hard. I mean, how much worse would it be, I told myself sternly, if she was a matron of my age and Flora was fond of her? Wanted to show her her room? Wouldn’t I be even more devastated?

  ‘Annie?’

  I came to, and realized Adam was talking to me. I also realized I was gripping the arms of the wrought-iron chair and that my hands hurt.

  ‘I said, where’s the good doctor? Isn’t he gracing us with his presence this afternoon?’

  ‘Oh no, not for a while actually. He’s got a problem at work,’ I said, without thinking.

  ‘Oh? Not another misdiagnosis, I hope?’ He laughed and turned to Matt. ‘David had an unfortunate episode last year when he told a mate of mine he had herpes, when in fact he had impetigo. Quite a lot of steroid cream was rubbed into delicate parts for no good reason and my mate, understandably, was not exactly chuffed to the bol-locks. Didn’t do much for his marriage either. His wife never quite believed he hadn’t got the clap.’ He grinned. ‘These days though I think David tends to cover himself. Sends all the “don’t knows” round to Harley Street for a second opinion, isn’t that right, Annie?’

  I stared, horrified. ‘Certainly not!’ I blustered finally. I felt myself turning scarlet. ‘Impetigo and herpes are actually incredibly similar, and the fact is he’s simply got too much work on at the moment to be swanning off on holiday. Too many patients!’

  God, I could have kicked myself. Adam was always looking for a soft spot, waiting to pounce. How stupid of me!

  ‘Ah, popular man,’ he said with a mocking smile. ‘Must be that devastating bedside manner. I must send Cozzy along to see him. She’s got an interesting little mole she wants removed’ – he lifted his arm and pointed – ‘right here. Just underneath her left breast. Think he could handle it?’

  ‘He’d handle it with pleasure,’ I purred, thinking hopefully his knife would slip and a mastectomy would be performed instead.

  At that moment, Cozzy reappeared on the terrace with Flora, their arms linked, giggling, although Flora hastily withdrew hers when she saw me. I glanced away, wishing she hadn’t. Children are incapable of subtlety and Adam and Matt had both noticed.

  ‘So,’ I said crisply, getting to my feet. ‘Packed a bag, Flora?’

  ‘Yep.’ She grinned and held up a floral rucksack. ‘And yes, before you ask, I’ve got my toothbrush, and everything else.’

  She eyed me, letting me know that yes she’d got her STs and her eczema cream and the three teddies she had to sleep with, and the scrap of old blanket to wind around her finger and her birthstone necklace. My heart lurched for her though, as she jauntily swung the bag on her back. Despite her show of bravado it wasn’t that easy. She could just about manage her father’s for the night – nowhere else – but even then, only with a huge dollop of nerve.

  And this was a strange house, I suddenly thought anxiously as I walked her to Adam’s car. Not his usual London flat. Where would she sleep? Would her room be miles away from his in the night?

  Behind Flora’s back, I exchanged a quick glance with Adam. It said it all. No, it’s OK, I’ll put her next door, and no, of course I won’t go to bed until she’s asleep. Relax. He knew. Of course he knew. He was her daddy. I thanked him with my eyes as we walked around to the front drive.

  ‘Bye, Mum!’ She hugged me breezily, and ran across the gravel to the black convertible Jeep.

  ‘Cool. New car, Dad?’

  ‘Well, hired actually. Just for the holiday.’

  But as Adam and Cozzy got in the front, she suddenly darted back. ‘Say it,’ she muttered quickly as I hugged her goodbye again. ‘Say goodnight, quickly.’

  ‘Love you loads, love you thousands, love you millions,’ I muttered.

  ‘Love you up to the sky,’ she gasped. ‘And to the bottom of the sea,’ I gabbled back. I squeezed her, then, after squeezing me hard back, she turned and fled.

  I folded my arms, holding myself tight. Adam started the car. He gave it an inordinate amount of revving, and as I waved them off with a bright, fixed smile, a spray of gravel shot up over me.

  I stood there for a moment, in the empty drive, blinking in the cloud of dust he’d left in his wake, then turned to go back to the house. I felt cold, suddenly.

  As I walked around the side to the terrace, I was surprised to see Matt still sitting there. He hadn’t, as I’d expected him to, bolted back to his study and locked the door. As he glanced across, he gave the first approximation of a friendly smile I’d seen since I’d met him, and let the Pimm’s jug hover over my glass. He cocked an eyebrow enquiringly.

  ‘Drink?’

  Chapter Eleven

  I hesitated. What I really wanted to do was to go to my room, throw myself on the bed and howl, but actually, I could do with a drink too. I sat down.

  ‘Thanks.’

  He poured out the Pimm’s and we were silent for a moment. The heat had gone out of the day now, and the sun was low in the sky across the bay and behind the woods. So low, I could put sunglasses on without him thinking it peculiar.

  ‘Won’t be a mo’.’

  I nipped through the French windows and into the sitting room, digging them out of my bag with a shaky hand. Then I came back and smiled breezily. I had a feeling he was going to ask me about Adam.

  ‘So, how’s the thesis coming along?’ I said quickly as I sat down.

  He smiled. ‘It’s more of a book, actually. It began as a thesis, but has grown rather.’

  ‘Oh, a book! Right. So that makes two of us. Have you got a publisher? An agent?’

  ‘A publisher, yes, but not an agent because it’s not that sort of a book. It’s an academic work. It’ll be published by the university press in Boston.’

  ‘Ah. Called?’ I enquired brightly even though I couldn’t care less. My hand was still shaking, I noticed as I picked up my glass. Just keep up the breezy chit-chat, Annie, get the booze down your neck, then go for a lie-down.

  ‘It’s called Molly goes Mental.’

  I glanced up.

  He smiled. ‘Only kidding. No, no catchy title. It’s essentially a collection of papers on the extensions of clinical psychosis in
the paranoic mind.’

  ‘Oh. Heavens.’ I sank humbly into my Pimm’s.

  He smiled. ‘And yours?’

  ‘Oh, er, Love All Over, at the moment. But it’s um, a working title.’ I nodded. ‘Might change it.’

  ‘Ah. A romantic work.’

  I eyed him sharply. Was he laughing at me? ‘Well, amongst other things,’ I said haughtily, straightening up. ‘There’s – you know – mystery and intrigue in there as well, a bit of pathos and, um, black comedy, that kind of thing.’ I cast about wildly. ‘Not an entirely intellectual work, like yours, of course, but hopefully not too, well …’

  ‘Trashy?’

  ‘God. Hope not. Probably will be though.’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  I squinted up at him through the sun’s rays, thinking he was being uncommonly nice to me all of a sudden. It also occurred to me that actually, he wasn’t unattractive, in a last of the Navaho Indians sort of way, if only his hair weren’t so long and wild-looking and he brushed it occasionally. Oh, and changed out of that horrid old fishing jumper. His eyes were as blue as the sea.

  ‘And is it autobiographical?’

  ‘Hm? Oh heavens no, I make it up.’ I gave a hollow laugh. ‘Golly, if I wrote something autobiographical it would be about me and Adam, and that would run into volumes. Be longer than War and Peace, with the emphasis firmly on the former. I’d probably end up slitting my wrists.’ I took a big slug of my drink. Stared balefully into the bottom of my glass. A silence ensued.

  ‘And is that the first time you’ve seen him with anyone? I mean’ – he jerked his head eloquently – ‘with that floozie?’

  I wondered if this wasn’t rather rude? Then quickly decided it wasn’t. I grinned, grateful for his support.

  ‘Yes, it is as a matter of fact.’ I sat up a bit and flicked back my hair. ‘But … it’s fine. It’s good.’ I nodded firmly. ‘I’ve done it now, and it feels OK. Another hurdle over.’

  ‘And for him, too. I mean, he’s seen you with David now, presumably?’

 

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