My One Month Marriage

by Shari Low

  ‘He’d already be lining up the Pictionary, Monopoly and planning songs for the singalong later,’ Yvie said, her face lighting up at the memory, piercing the sadness that had descended on the room.

  Zoe joined her on the reminiscence train, bursting into the chorus of ‘Hi, Ho, Silver Lining’, with Yvie joining in on the next line and Marina and Verity adding the ‘Now Baby’ at the end.

  They were still laughing, Zoe and Yvie wiping tears of amusement and emotion from their eyes, when Marge burst in, looking flustered. ‘Marina dear, Nigel is having a lovely time chatting to your father-in-law, but he’s asked me to check if this wine is organic?’

  ‘It certainly is,’ Marina assured her confidently.

  It was enough to have their mother bustling back into the living room armed with good news and reassurance.

  ‘Is it organic?’ Zoe asked, surprised.

  ‘Absolutely no idea,’ Marina retorted, still stirring, a brilliantly wicked gleam in her eye.

  Zoe and Yvie were still laughing when Verity quipped, ‘There’s something that’s changed since last year. Daddy number four on the way, a yoga bendy replacement for poor old Derek.’

  It hadn’t been much of a surprise to them when their mother finally left Derek just after Zoe’s birthday party back in September. It had, however, been a bit of a shock when she’d invited them all for lunch a couple of weeks later and they’d turned up to find that Nigel, the ashtanga teacher, was there, and Marge was introducing him as her new lover. Even the thought of Marge using the word ‘lover’ still made Zoe shudder.

  ‘I’ve heard that ‘poor old Derek’ cashed in his pension and went running off to Puerto Banus on his varicose vein-free legs, so I wouldn’t feel too badly for him,’ Zoe added. She’d heard that from Tom, who ran into Derek at Glasgow Airport, just as he was making his bid for freedom. ‘He said if Marge wants to chase him for his money, she’s going to have to find him first, because there was no way that “snidey, bendy little fucker” was going to see a penny of it. He was referring to Nigel there. Apparently, Derek thinks he’s been after Mum for ages.’

  Marina rested the spoon for a second. ‘Yeah, well, Derek had a lucky escape, if you ask me. She’s getting more insufferable with every year that passes. Pass me some more wine, will you, V?’

  ‘Marina! It’s Christmas! Don’t be so horrible,’ Yvie reprimanded her.

  Marina shrugged, clearly caring not a jot that Yvie objected. ‘But it’s true.’

  ‘Yeah, well, nobody is perfect.’

  Zoe kept her mouth clamped shut, knowing better than to go anywhere near this discussion. They all harboured deep feelings for both of their parents and they all made it their mission to keep those feelings to themselves. Zoe wasn’t sure when it had been agreed, or how it had happened, but there was an unspoken understanding, had been since they were teenagers, that nothing good could come of talking about their mum or dad, or what had happened to them back then or since. Although, Zoe wasn’t quite sure it was healthy to keep it bottled inside either.

  But that was for another day. Right now, she had to get the conversation back on to much lighter ground. ‘Right, I’m changing the subject because this won’t end well.’ Nobody argued. ‘Soooo,’ she continued, ‘going back to what I was saying – and not to make it all about me – but my life has changed hugely. This time last year, I was in pieces over Tom…’

  ‘Do I remember you saying he’d set a date for his wedding? You know, the one that’s not to you?’ Verity barbed, but the fact that the corners of her mouth were twitching told Zoe she was just trying to get a rise out of her.

  ‘Are you trying to make me cry, Ver?’ she asked, voice full of sass, ‘Because, I swear to God, if you do, I’ll blow my nose on your sleeve.’

  Verity suddenly looked uncomfortable as she rubbed the arm of a glorious deep red sweater dress that Zoe was fairly sure was cashmere. Her sister had really upped her wardrobe game in the last few months. If she didn’t know better, Zoe would suspect Verity had a secret man somewhere that she was trying to impress. Compared to Yvie and Verity, she was positively plain in a white merino wool polo neck and red tartan straight leg trousers. Ned had been making jokes about Rupert The Bear since she’d bought them.

  ‘Back to me,’ Zoe said, making it clear she was taking the piss and she hadn’t turned into a complete narcissist. ‘As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, this time last year I was in pieces over Tom, and I honestly thought I’d lost the love of my life.’

  Yvie budged up closer to her and slung one arm around her, giving her a squeeze. ‘He was a fool to let you go.’

  Zoe shook her head. ‘Nah, he wasn’t really. He’s so happy with Chrissie and they have their boy together and they’ve made their family complete. I love them.’

  Which was all true, she reflected, with a twinge of sadness. Maybe there was a tiny part of her that still wished it had been different, but…

  ‘If Tom and I had stayed together we’d just have worked day and night until the end of time. It’s good that we’ve both met people with different lives. It stops us living and breathing work 24/7.’

  Which was also true. Mostly.

  ‘Anyway,’ she went on, making sure she sounded strong and cheery, ‘the point is, I felt completely crap when I was here last year and I had no idea what was going to happen or if I’d ever feel normal again and now I… well, I do. And I don’t usually stop and think deep and meaningful things about life, but I know that I owe you three a thank you.’

  ‘Jesus, this is like Gwyneth Paltrow’s Oscars speech. If you start crying, I swear I’m leaving,’ Verity said, eyes rolling. All of which made Zoe laugh because she wouldn’t have expected anything different.

  ‘Just for that, I’m starting with you, V. Thank you so much for hanging out with Ned while I’ve been working so much. I love that you do that for me and sometimes I think that if he wasn’t kept busy with all that stuff you two do together, then I’m not sure he wouldn’t have got pissed off with me and taken off with someone else.’

  Zoe watched as Verity visibly squirmed, as expected. She’d always been hopeless at accepting appreciation and having heartfelt moments.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Verity shrugged, face flushed.

  ‘And, Marina, thanks for always organising our family stuff and for being a brilliant hostess, because if it was left to me or Yvie, we’d be eating pizza for Christmas dinner and Quality Street for dessert.’

  ‘You just described my favourite meal,’ Yvie interjected.

  Zoe hadn’t finished with Marina though. ‘Oh, and thanks for doing that whole thing for the school fundraiser. Ned said you had a great night.’

  ‘Yeah, we did,’ Marina agreed, stirring a little faster now.

  ‘I’m feeling nauseous,’ Verity deadpanned. ‘Is your bucket of gratitude empty yet?’

  Once again, Zoe ignored her. ‘And, Yvie, thanks for always listening when I was being pathetic. Which I know was a lot. And thanks for feeding me, making me laugh and joining me in drinking so much on our trip this year that I think I’ve probably drowned a considerable number of my brain cells.’

  ‘All part of the service,’ Yvie said warmly, although Zoe didn’t miss the flicker of a frown that crossed her brow. Nope, it couldn’t have been. Maybe it was just a twinge of discomfort – Yvie had been complaining since she arrived that her bra was too tight. Or maybe it was another migraine. They must be really severe for Yvie to have left her birthday party early, and she’d cancelled on her a few times since because of the headaches too. Zoe made a mental note to ask her about them later and insist she get checked out. The irony wasn’t lost on her that Yvie was a nurse, yet she was the least likely of them all to take care of herself.

  ‘And all that being said,’ Zoe went on, ‘I’ve got something amazing to tell you. Something that will involve a short trip and will absolutely shock the knickers off you…’

  ‘Oh. My. God.’ Yvie exclaimed, cutting Z
oe off before she could blurt out her news.

  ‘What?’ Zoe didn’t understand – how could Yvie already know about the Vegas trip?

  ‘You’re getting married?’ Yvie gasped.

  Zoe didn’t even get the words out to answer her, because right at that moment, Verity fainted and went crashing to the floor.

  28

  Verity – Last Christmas at Marina’s Home

  Verity wasn’t sure if her head or her pride hurt more. She’d come to, to the sound of a panicked interrogation.

  ‘Verity? Christ on a bike, VERITY! Are you okay? ARE YOU OKAY?’ And that was from Yvie, a trained medical expert. No wonder the NHS was in crisis.

  ‘Verity!’ Her mother’s voice now. ‘Nigel is a yoga professional. Shall I get him?’ she heard Marge say to the others.

  ‘Only if you want her to do the downward dog before she stands up,’ she heard Marina retort drily.

  For a moment Verity was tempted to play dead and hope they all gave up, but she couldn’t stand the thought of her new cashmere dress spending another minute on the floor, even though she was pretty sure Marina would have demanded that her long-suffering cleaner scrub the tiled surface to operating theatre standards.

  There was a chorus of relief when she opened her eyes and then began to gradually, gently, push herself up.

  Zoe pulled a chair across from the kitchen table and Yvie and Marina helped lift her up on to it. Another moment of lost dignity.

  ‘I got the fright of my life there,’ her mother wittered. ‘I walk in just as my daughter falls to the floor. I think I’ll need to meditate for a few minutes just to re-centre my chakras. That kind of stress is terribly ageing.’

  With great wisdom, Marina stepped in before Verity blurted out something that could never be taken back.

  ‘Do you know what would help, Mum? Could you go and cajole everyone into the dining room and let them know that dinner will be served shortly? And ask Graham to refill the drinks. Here…’ She thrust a basket of bread rolls into Marge’s hands. ‘You can get them started with this and I’ll bring the soup in a couple of minutes.’

  Verity could see that Marge was contemplating putting up an argument, but she took one look at Marina’s face and decided not to even try. It would take more than determination and the back-up of Nigel, the yoga guru, to challenge Marina when she wanted something done.

  Not for the first time, Verity was thankful that Marina automatically stepped in to take charge. Now, she was getting the first-aid kit from the kitchen cupboard, and she handed it over to Yvie, who opened it and surveyed the contents.

  ‘Holy crap, Marina – next time we run out of supplies, I know where to come. We could operate a field hospital with this lot.’

  Verity felt the irritation rising again. ‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘I just got a bit hot. Must be this dress. I’ll go and throw some cold water on my face and I’ll be fine.’

  ‘You’ll just sit there and do what Yvie tells you,’ Zoe countered, handing her a glass of water. Apparently everyone in the room now thought they had some kind of authority over her.

  It was three against one and she knew her odds of victory were slim, so she just shut up and let Yvie get on with it. First, she pulled a digital thermometer out of the huge first-aid box and took Verity’s temperature.

  ‘Slightly raised, but nothing dramatic,’ she said, more to herself than anyone else.

  Next, she took out a battery-operated blood pressure monitor and held it up, looking at Marina questioningly.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I bought it for Graham,’ Marina explained. ‘He has a stressful job. High level of heart attacks in his field, so I was just being cautious. I check it once a month.’

  Even for Marina, that was dramatic, Verity decided. But then, she was hardly one to talk, given that she’d just been sprawled on the floor in need of smelling salts. Although, she was 100 per cent certain this was nothing to do with job stress.

  A few squeezes of a handpump and many beeps later, Yvie read the digital screen. ‘Okay, so your pulse is normal, but your blood pressure is a bit low. I’m not sure that’s what’s caused this, though.’

  Only because Verity raised her eyes at that moment did she notice that a silent glance passed between Yvie and Zoe, then extended to Marina.

  ‘Okay, what’s going on? You three look like you’re about to stage an intervention. What is it now?’

  Verity knew she was coming over as a tad aggressive, but it was exceedingly tiresome seeing them make a drama out of nothing. Why couldn’t she have had brothers? You know, blokes who were great company but didn’t want to know every fricking nuance of her emotional and personal life. And yes, for the purposes of that analogy, she was overlooking the fact that she was not on the moral high ground here and, on top of that, her sisters were actually doing a pretty decent job of caring about her. Just like they’d done when they’d asked her at various points over the last year whether she still had feelings for Ned. Of course, she’d denied it. Swatted away their concern. Refuted the very idea of it. Although, fainting at the suggestion of Zoe and Ned getting married probably wasn’t going to help her denials. She appreciated that they cared, but still, they were way too much sometimes and this was one of those instances in which they had to butt out of her business.

  It seemed Marina hadn’t got that memo.

  ‘Right, I’m going to say it because these two will beat about the bush and we’ll all be fainting from bloody hunger if we don’t eat soon. So. We’re worried about you. You’re exercising too much and it almost seems like it’s becoming a bit obsessive again.’

  Verity’s jaw dropped. So it wasn’t concern that she still harboured feelings for Ned. It was worry that an old issue was resurfacing. Well, she wasn’t having it. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re shaming me for trying to be as healthy as I can possibly be?’ Even as she tried to brazen it out though, she felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. She knew exactly what they were talking about. It had even crossed her own mind, but she’d squashed the thought, unwilling to face it.

  ‘Come on, V,’ Zoe began, and Verity couldn’t bear the sympathy in her voice. She didn’t need pity from anyone, especially the sister who had inadvertently caused all this. Yet, she was still speaking.

  ‘You know what happened after Dad…’

  It was a small mercy that she chose not to finish the sentence. Verity didn’t actually think she could take it. It would be too much. She’d crack. She was already feeling vulnerable, so the last thing she needed was for the most painful thing that had ever happened to her to be brought up and for her to fall apart on Christmas Day in Marina’s kitchen, while Michael Bublé sang ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’.

  This time it was Zoe who hadn’t got the memo, because she was still trying to make her point. ‘It was exactly like this, V. All those months afterwards, years even, you were running too much, not eating enough. It’s just what you do when you’re under pressure. We’re not trying to shame you; we’re just worried about you.’

  If her blood pressure was low a minute ago, it was definitely on the rise now. How dare they bring this up? How dare they?

  ‘This has got nothing to do with that!’ she chided them. ‘Absolutely nothing. If you must know, I’ve been feeling so much better since I upped my exercise…’

  ‘We’re now straying into an area of which I have no personal experience,’ Yvie interjected, and Verity almost softened, realising that Yvie was trying to lighten the mood. However, she was too irritated to back down.

  ‘As I was saying, I feel so much better. I’m thinking of maybe competing in some way and I just wanted to push myself a little and see how I got on.’ None of that was true, but it was all she could come up with on the spot.

  ‘Okay,’ Marina said. ‘You heard her. Everything is fine. Let’s move on.’

  ‘Are you sure, Verity?’ Zoe didn’t give up easily.

  ‘She’s already explained it, Zoe. What else d
oes she need to tell you? Let it go. And if you dare start singing that song, I’ll thump you,’ Marina said, impatience ripping out of her. Verity knew Marina would be getting anxious about their Christmas Day running behind schedule.

  Yvie was in front of her again, repeating Zoe’s question. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  Verity tried the conciliatory approach, adding an overtone of exasperation for effect. ‘I am. Don’t you think you know me well enough that if I were having problems you’d see it? Don’t you think you’d know if I was cracking under pressure or buckling under the strain of some big problem?’

  A change came over Yvie’s face right then – as if she’d decided to drop it, to stop delving, to take her usual approach and fall back on humour to get them past a sticky situation.

  Yvie shrugged. ‘You could be living a double life as a high-class escort for all we know. It’s always the quiet ones.’

  Verity decided not to even dignify that with an answer.

  ‘Look, I really do feel fine, but thanks,’ she said firmly. ‘Now, I’m going to get up because I really need to go to the loo – and, no, I don’t need any of you to come with me. Is anyone planning on trying to stop me?’

  No one spoke, so she took that as a no.

  ‘Excellent,’ she said, in her best school teacher voice. ‘Then I’ll be back in a minute. Marina, you might want to serve that soup before your mother-in-law starts some kind of mutiny.’

  With that, and as strong a posture and walk as she could manage, Verity picked up her handbag and headed to Marina’s downstairs loo.

  Inside, she locked the door and plonked herself on top of the seat lid. All she wanted was five minutes to herself to recalibrate and calm down. She had no idea what happened out there. Yvie had said something about Zoe and Ned getting married and then she’d crashed. They were getting married? Surely bloody not?