‘I wish she’d go,’ Alison thought. ‘She makes it all seem so cheap and-and worldly.’
Then she suddenly remembered about the cablegram from Buenos Aires.
‘Oh, Aunt Lydia -’
‘I can’t wait now,’ her aunt said. ‘It’s time I went. If the first arrivals are late it means the whole thing is disorganised. Good-bye, child. Try to make yourself heard, though that isn’t so very important, really. And don’t forget about looking up.’
Aunt Lydia went out, closing the door behind her. Oh, well, it couldn’t be helped. Explanations would have to come after the ceremony.
Alison stood where she was, facing her own reflection in the glass. But she scarcely took in what she saw there. She was listening to the sounds of departure downstairs.
And then a servant knocked on the door.
Mr. Leadburn wanted to know if Miss Alison was ready. It was time they were going.
Alison picked up her great sheaf of deep pink roses, and glanced round her unpretentious little bedroom.
Next time she saw it she would be Alison Tyndrum- Julian’s wife.
Uncle Theodore was waiting in the hall, and he smiled as she came slowly down the stairs.
‘Dear me,’ he observed approvingly, ‘Julian certainly has a very pretty bride.’
‘Thank you, Uncle.’ Alison smiled in return and took his arm affectionately. She was glad it was her uncle with whom she had to go, for his kindly but matter-of-fact air steadied her.
She glanced shyly and a little incredulously at the group of sight-seers as she went out to the car. It was first and last time in her life that she was likely to attract a crowd, she thought with faint amusement.
And then she was driving through the streets beside Uncle Theodore, with the strange, dreamlike knowledge that, somewhere at the end of this journey, Julian was waiting to make her his wife.
‘Feeling nervous?’ Her uncle patted her hand.
‘No, not very,’ Alison said, and it was true. She was not trembling any more, and her heart was beating calmly and regularly again. Only her breathing was shallow and rapid. But that was really more excitement than nervousness.
‘Well, I expect you will have a pretty full programme from now on until you leave.’
That reminded her.
‘Oh, Uncle Theodore, we aren’t going to Buenos Aires after all. There was a cable for Julian last night, postponing our flight indefinitely.’
‘Really?’ Alison wondered if she imagined that her usually immovable uncle looked disturbed. ‘Do you mean you’ll be living here in London?’
‘I suppose so.’
He was silent for a moment, and then said, ‘Well, personally, I’m glad you’re not going to the other side of the world. How do you feel about it yourselves?’
‘I’m afraid Julian is very disappointed,’ she said carefully.
‘And you?’
‘Oh, I-she drew a quick breath-’I don’t really care where I am, so long as Julian is there too.’
‘Ah!’ Her uncle gave a satisfied laugh.
She thought he was going to say something too, but just then the car drew up outside the church, and there was no opportunity.
Organ music was coming from just beyond that doorway, and the indescribable rustle of people moving and whispering.
She took her uncle’s arm and moved slowly forward. Nobody seemed specially distinct-just a vague blur of faces on either side-people who had meant nothing at all in her life, and would mean nothing again. They were just there for her wedding-she didn’t quite know why, except that Aunt Lydia had somehow conjured them there.
Why, there was Jennifer, smiling slightly and looking a miracle of style and smartness. Simon would be with Julian, but she wouldn’t look there yet.
There was Aunt Lydia, right in front, turning her head as far as decorum permitted, to see that her stage-managing had not failed in any particular, while Theo gazed openly- but mostly at Audrey.
And then they all faded away into absolute nothingness, because Rosalie’s blue eyes were staring at her across the width of the aisle-cold, unfriendly, frighteningly bleak in her lovely young face.
Alison gasped faintly, as though someone had struck her, and her eyes dropped before the dislike in Rosalie’s.
Uncle Theodore had stopped. She couldn’t imagine why for a moment, and then, glancing up, she saw. Julian was standing the other side of her, smiling reassuringly down at her.
‘Oh, Julian,’ she said very quietly, and she forgot all about Rosalie.
She used to wonder afterwards whether every girl was just as vague about her own wedding.
It didn’t seem like her own voice saying, ‘I, Alison, take thee, Julian-’
She wondered if he felt equally strange, saying, ‘I, Julian, take thee, Alison-’
Perhaps he felt even stranger because, of course, he didn’t want to take her at all.
But she wouldn’t think of that now. Nor of Rosalie, standing somewhere there behind her, wishing her ill.
It was over at last, and she was with him in the vestry, signing ‘Alison Earlston’ for the last time. And then she was going along the aisle once more, past those rows of indistinguishable people.
But this time it was on Julian’s arm that her hand rested.
Rosalie had not come into the vestry, and Alison didn’t look in her direction now. She didn’t want anything to spoil this wonderful moment. She had forgotten her aunt’s warning, but in any case, she had no need of it to make her raise her head.
The most extraordinary pride and happiness flooded warmly over her. She was Julian’s wife. And for one little, little moment, that was enough.
In the car, Julian turned to her with a laugh.
‘Well, I’m glad that’s over.’
Alison smiled.
‘Were you nervous too?’
‘Petrified,’ Julian assured her, looking exceptionally calm. And at that they laughed together.
‘You look marvellously pretty, Alison.’
His admiration was undoubted, but there was not a single touch of sentiment about it. Nor did he sound in the least possessive. He might have been paying a compliment to any young friend or relation.
She wondered if he had noticed how lovely Rosalie looked, and, if so, how it had affected him. He couldn’t have seen her since that terrible evening when she had thrown him over-until he saw her in church to-day. It must have hurt, however much he had braced himself to meet the moment.
‘Do you like your ring?’ He took her hand and looked at the slender ring with its curiously cut facets.
‘Yes, very much, thank you, Julian.’ It was like thanking him for a casual Christmas present, she thought.
‘I’m glad you chose gold,’ he told her. ‘It’s so much warmer than platinum.’
‘Well. I know it’s old-fashioned of me, but I’ve always vaguely felt that I shouldn’t feel really married with anything but a gold ring,’ she confessed.
He looked at her hand for a moment in silence.
‘So that makes you feel really married, does it?’ he said with a slight smile. But she noticed that the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
She wished she hadn’t said anything so silly and thoughtless then, but it was too late to do anything about it, for they had arrived back at the house.
The next half-hour was crowded with hand-shaking and introductions, with little speeches of welcome and little speeches of thanks. She noticed once or twice how easily and gracefully Simon was carrying off his duties as best man, and she thought, ‘No wonder he is a social success.’
Even Aunt Lydia smiled at him with genuine cordiality, and if Uncle Theodore did think him ‘a bit of an adventurer,’ as he had declared, Simon seemed to please him and charm him just then.
Presently he came up to where she and Julian were standing.
‘You seem to be entering into your role very heartily,’ Julian remarked.
Simon bowed to Alison with a rather wicked smile.
‘I want to feel I am a really deserving case when I claim my privilege as best man.’
‘I see.’ Julian looked amused.
‘Have I your permission?’
‘Mine? You’d better ask Alison, hadn’t you?’ Julian said with a little laugh. ‘She is the one concerned.’
‘Oh, I shan’t ask Alison,’ Simon declared. ‘Always kiss a woman first and ask her afterwards. It’s an excellent rule.’
And, putting his arm lightly round Alison, he kissed her full on her mouth.
It was all very easily and laughingly done, but, as Simon’s lips touched hers, Alison was conscious of the most extraordinary sensation. She didn’t want to be kissed like that. Not by any man-except perhaps Julian. Simon’s laughing remarks might not say much, but Simon’s mouth said a good deal more.
There was something about the whole incident which she resented fiercely-but, most of all, because, in the mirror of Simon’s manner, she saw quite clearly how utterly unemotional and impersonal any caress of Julian’s had always been.
Besides, it came to her with an angry pain that Julian had never actually kissed her at all. And that Simon- Simon-should do it first was hateful!
She turned away, oddly disturbed, and she was still feeling shaken when her aunt came over to tell her it was time for her to slip away and change.
‘And why ever didn’t you tell me about your not going to Buenos Aires after all?’ Aunt Lydia wanted to know. ‘You are an extraordinary girl, Alison.’
‘I did try to tell you this morning,’ said Alison, ‘but you didn’t have time to stay and hear.’
‘But why hadn’t you told us all last night? You knew then, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’ Alison hesitated. It was so difficult for her to explain. ‘There didn’t seem to be an opportunity,’ she said lamely at last.
‘Really, Alison, I don’t understand you at all. Unless-’ Aunt Lydia stopped, and looked at her niece in a peculiar, not very friendly fashion. ‘Well, perhaps I do. You had better run along and get dressed now.’ And, without another word, she moved off, leaving Alison feeling extraordinarily uncomfortable.
It didn’t take long, with Prentiss’s help, to change from her wedding-dress into the little pink suit, with the wonderful mink coat over it.
When she came downstairs, Julian, too, was ready. The suitcases were outside in the grey Daimler, and Audrey was hopping about, first on one foot and then on the other, a bag of confetti very partially concealed in the hand she was holding behind her.
‘You needn’t be so secretive about that filthy stuff,’ Julian told her. ‘But if you chuck all that at us I’ll run you down with the car.’
‘It’s really only because I’m so pleased,’ Audrey said ingenuously.
‘Pleased? Whose wedding is this-yours of mine?’
‘Yours, of course. But I’m so glad it’s Alison’s too.’
‘Oh, I see.’
Just for a second, Alison saw him glance across to where Rosalie was standing a little aloof from all this. And, as he did so, the light seemed to go out of his face, and she could see a little pulse beating agitatedly in his cheek.
She turned away to say good-bye to her aunt, her heart heavy with apprehension and a strange pity for him, which seemed to blot out her own personal feelings.
Aunt Lydia indulged in a slightly emotional good-bye for the sake of appearances, but Alison knew how much more meaning there was to her uncle’s quiet, ‘Good-bye, child. I hope you will be very happy.’
Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she went over to where Rosalie was standing.
‘Good-bye, Rosalie,’ she said, and, although it cost her an effort, she held out her hand.
But her cousin took no notice of it. She looked steadily back at Alison, her eyes like cold blue stones.
‘You were careful I shouldn’t know about Julian’s staying in England until you had him nice and secure, weren’t you?’ she said in a low, contemptuous voice.
‘Rosalie, that isn’t true.’ Alison, too, kept her voice low, and stood so that Rosalie was hidden from the rest of the people. ‘I never thought of such a thing. You know I didn’t’
‘You needn’t play innocent on top of it all.’ Rosalie twisted her own engagement ring on her finger with a nervous anger which suddenly showed Alison with deadly clearness that it was of no real importance to her. ‘You always meant to get Julian. Well, I suppose, in a way, you have got him now. But he isn’t really yours in any sense that matters. And you know it as well as I do.’
‘Please Rosalie-’ Alison began. But her cousin cut across her words with furious scorn.
‘Oh, don’t bother to say any more. Why don’t you do the same as Julian? He has more sense than to try to come and speak to me.’ She gave a slight laugh, and then added slowly: ‘Unless, of course, it is that he knows he can’t trust himself near me.’
There wasn’t any answer to make to such a speech, and, trembling all over, Alison went back to Julian.
She scarcely took any note of the other good-byes, except for the welcome warmth of Audrey’s kiss.
And even when the car moved clear of the farewell group, and Julian and she were alone together, she could find nothing to say. She leaned back in her seat beside him, pale and with her eyes closed, and for a while he drove in silence.
At last he said: ‘What is it, Alison? Are you very tired?’
‘A little yes,’ she said quickly. And then: ‘Do you mind if I don’t talk at all for a bit?’
‘Not in the least, my child.’ He spoke very quietly and calmingly, ‘I imagine this isn’t exactly an easy day for you.’
‘It can’t be easy for you either, darling,’ she thought impulsively. ‘But you do it all so much better than I.’
They were clear of London and heading for the open country before he spoke again. And then his tone was still blessedly cool and matter-of-fact.
‘I don’t know how much you’ve had to eat to-day, but it probably isn’t any more than I have. Suppose we stop and have a very late lunch somewhere.’
Alison agreed, and, ten minutes later, over a good meal in a country inn, she began to feel better. Even now, it made her feel faintly sick to think of what Rosalie had said, but she must try not to remember her cold, angry face, and her bitter words.
It was terrible to have someone hate you like that. Terrible-and so bewilderingly unfair.
Alison glanced across timidly at Julian and thought:
‘It’s not even as though I had taken him away from her. I could understand her anger if I had done that; But I tried so hard not to do anything unfair so long as he was hers. It was only afterwards-’
But then, of course, what Rosalie had probably wanted was to be able to whistle him back again, chastened and humiliated, if she happened to want him. She had never really meant him to go out of her reach so finally.
And, in that case, would he have come back? Alison wondered. Reluctant and resisting, no doubt, but fascinated into submission.
‘Well, I’m glad I saved him from that, at any rate,’ she told herself grimly. ‘She’s done some awful things to his self-respect, but she hasn’t been able to do that.’ And she gave a sigh, half-triumphant, half-afraid.
‘Eat up your lunch, child, and think out the problems afterwards,’ Julian’s voice said quietly at that moment, and she looked up quickly to find him watching her with a kindly, worried air.
‘I’m sorry.’ She laughed a little, and deliberately cleared the expression of care from her face.
‘That’s better.’ His own expression lightened too at that, and after a moment or two she began to talk to him quite naturally and almost gaily.
By the time they came out again to the car the late afternoon light was beginning to fade. Sudden grey clouds were rolling up from the west, and a strong wind was rising. Even as they moved off, the first big drops of rain came splashing against the windscreen.
‘There’s going to be a heavy storm,’ Julia
n remarked. ‘You’re not nervous driving in a storm, I suppose?’
‘Not if you’re driving,’ Alison said. Whereat he laughed.
‘You’re very soothing to a man’s vanity, Alison.’
There was something very pleasant about being alone together in the warmth and intimacy of the car, after all the conflicting excitements of the day. And later, when it was quite dark. and the wind was hurling the rain against the windows in great driving gusts, they seemed to be all alone in a safe. cosy little world of their own.
About seven, they passed through a fairly large country town, and Julian asked if she would care to stay there for the night But Alison, more than slightly drowsy by now, had no special wish to face the problems of the outer world just then.
‘I’d rather drive on,’ she said, ‘if you’re not tired.’
‘I’m not tired,’ he assured her with a little smile. ‘But I see you are.’ He reached with one hand for another cushion and put it behind her. ‘You’d better go to sleep for a while.’
‘Oh. no,’ Alison said. But two minutes later it seemed too much trouble to open her eyes again.
When she woke up it was pitch dark outside, with the blackness of the completely open country. She glanced at the little car clock and gave an exclamation.
‘Is it really as late as that, Julian? Quarter-past ten?’
‘Hello. Awake again?’ He smiled at her. ‘Yes, that’s the time.’
‘But hadn’t we better stop somewhere? You must be dead tired, driving all this time.’
‘We will stop, my dear, when we can find somewhere.’ Julian laughed ruefully. ‘To tell you the truth, I don’t know where the deuce we are.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, we’re sure to come on something or somewhere soon,’ Alison said equably.
He cocked a quizzical look at her.
‘How refreshingly philosophical of you. You’re quite at liberty to call me a fool for losing the way, if you like.’
But Alison smiled and shook her head.
‘It can happen to anyone. Especially on a night like this,’ she added, as a tremendous gust of wind and rain seemed to hit the car broadside on.
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