Before You Say I Do

Chapter 4 Tea Set

On Marnie’s wedding day to Doug Somerset, her mother-in-law gave her a tea set. Julie Somerset, blonde and brash with a proverbial heart of gold, had clearly put thought and time into her choice of gift, presenting it to her new daughter-in-law with a proud smile and flush on her over-blushed cheeks.

“It’s a pretty pattern, isn’t it?” Julie enthused, holding one of the delicate teacups up to the light. “Could be an antique.”

The white china was painted with a gold, pink and blue flower motif, gaudy and old-fashioned, which made Marnie cringe. Eight cups and eight saucers, all identical.

“A set,” Julie added, with a knowing wink at the slight curve to Marnie’s belly, “to pass on as an heirloom, one of these days.”

To say Marnie hated the tea set was an understatement. She actively despised it. Marnie had been through a tumultuous few years, a time when her rebellious teenage phase morphed into an experimental college phase, which then morphed into a business-first adult mindset. Her idealistic optimism gave way to a hard-hearted ruthlessness, a determination to take the inheritance of her family and improve upon it. As such, Marnie worked, and she worked hard. She grafted and grifted and Doug... Well, he was supposed to be the antithesis of all that. He was meant to be an attempt to reclaim her carefree youth, as well as an inappropriate boyfriend her father hated, which perversely made Marnie want him more. Doug was a race-car driver, literally the hottest new thing on the circuit, and Marnie’s father’s company had sponsored him. When she first met him, he’d been leaning on the hood of his car, the sun on his face, watching her move by her father’s side closely.

Marnie had been smitten, but still practical. Doug Somerset was never meant to be a long-term thing. He was meant to be an itch to scratch before she moved on to more suitable pastures. So to find herself both pregnant by him and then married to him caused Marnie’s world to spin on its axis. What she had planned as merely a whirlwind romance had turned into a perpetual storm of a marriage, and Julie’s tea set — that tacky, over-decorated, cheap pile of plates — represented everything Marnie hated about what her life had become.

It wasn’t that Marnie was unhappy, because she was pragmatic and practical and always made the best of any situation. She knew that with Doug she had made her bed and she’d decided to sleep in it, and even if life with him wasn’t all feather pillows and satin sheets, it was still good quality cotton, and she was content enough. As for Corentin and Tom... Well, her boys were the highlight of Marnie’s marriage, and both she and Doug knew it. She found it hard to look into her children’s big brown eyes and regret any of the decisions and choices that had led her to them.

Julie’s tea set sat in a glass cabinet in the least used of Marnie’s three dining rooms, hidden in a corner and mostly ignored. During her worst arguments with Doug, Marnie had been tempted to shatter the cups and saucers one by one, hurling them against a wall and watching that hideous pattern of replica Victorian flowers turn into a whole new kind of mosaic. Still, she’d always resisted the temptation, knowing deep down that the guilt she’d feel from destroying Julie’s well-meaning gift would far outweigh any satisfaction she’d gain. Besides, Marnie told herself, one day — one day — those cups and saucers could be passed on to her own daughter-in-law. It was only fitting, Marnie thought. Julie had wanted them to be an heirloom, and what better legacy for her son’s wife than this china, a gift for the shotgun marriage that culminated in his arrival. Marnie was practical, but not above a little petty irony.

“Can you clean this set up?” she asked Mrs Hollis, her housekeeper, pointing to the set in their glass cabinet prison. “I’d like tea served in them after lunch today.”

Mrs Hollis glanced at her in surprise. “But you never use this tea set. Dollar store trash, you’ve always called it.”

Marnie nodded. “That’s true. I want to give the set to Sasha though.” She swallowed down a mouthful of bile. “Tom seems determined to marry her — heaven knows why — and I promised him I would try my best with her. Giving her this tea set feels like a good place to start.”

“With the dollar store trash?” Mrs Hollis asked sceptically, and Marnie nodded.

“Yes. Don’t give me that look, Doris. I have my reasons.”

Mrs Hollis continued giving her ‘that’ look anyway. “So, tea and coffee, served with this tea set, at two o’clock? An hour after lunch?”

Marnie nodded. “Yes. Once the wedding planners are out of the way I’ll tell Sasha about my gift. She’s out for all she can get, that girl, so I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

Mrs Hollis frowned at her. “Perhaps comments like those aren’t the best way to win your future daughter-in-law’s heart?”

Marnie only shrugged. “I could care less about Sasha. No, I’m doing this for Tom.” She held her head high. “For Tom, and for the children he’ll one day have. I’m no fool. I know Sasha’s type. As soon as she has Tom’s child in her arms, she’ll make me pay through the nose for access to them. And I’ll pay for it too. I know it, and so does she.”

It was the truth. Marnie was widowed, somewhat retired and mostly bored, and had begun to realise all too late the things she’d missed as a working wife and mother. She adored her sons, but being time-poor and work-rich while they were growing up meant expensive nannies, schools and tutors had been substituted in place of herself.

She’d missed Corentin and Tom’s first steps. Missed their first words. She hadn’t been there for their first days of school or the nights of their high school proms. It was only when Corentin rebelled his way into a religious calling and Tom disappeared that Marnie realised — with a large stab of pain — just how much she missed them.

When Tom returned at last, weary, sad, jaded and quiet, Marnie worked hard to regain his trust and love. She knew her child — knew something had happened to him in the years he’d been gone. The boy who’d clambered to race cars and pilot planes like his daddy suddenly worked in finance. The boy who’d been all passion and feeling suddenly wanted to settle with Sasha. But, mostly, the boy who’d been all smiles and joy suddenly seemed lifeless and tired, as though a heaviness weighed him down. Marnie would give anything to fix him, to help him find that joy again. But all her efforts seemed only to push him further from her, and at last she gave up.

Tom would carry on working a job he hated. He would marry Sasha. He would live life as a disappointed man. These thoughts made Marnie feel sick, but she consoled herself with one small, tiny ray of hope. That Tom might father children, and give both her and him a second chance at a family life.

Marnie itched for a grandchild. A small boy or girl she could pour all her time and effort into. A child who would reap the rewards of her industrious youth. In one respect, she was thankful for Tom’s choice in Sasha. Sasha was a heartless, money-grabbing woman, no doubt about it, but she was also a woman who could be easily bribed. Always one to prepare ahead, Marnie had already hired the services of a New York lawyer famed for child custody battles. A.A. Andrews, attorney at law, was ready to take down Sasha if needed, so that Marnie and Tom could retain full access to his children. Marnie had learned the hard way that family came first, and she intended to put hers at the forefront forever more.

Though, not being an idiot, Marnie kept these thoughts to herself. Sasha was vapid enough and stupid enough not to see beyond Marnie’s tight smiles and vaguely hidden insults, and as they sat, discussing wedding plans with the people from Queen and Country Weddings, she threw out several. Sasha missed every single one of them, only having eyes and ears for the blond-haired wedding planner who fawned sickeningly over the bride. But the blue-eyed woman next to him, quiet and thoughtful, glanced at Marnie surreptitiously several times. Ari Lightowler was smart, Marnie realised, watching the woman sip at her wine. In just ten minutes, Marnie was fairly sure Ari had figured out exactly what the situation was here and Marnie, who appreciated people who were honest and without pretence, warmed to her instantly.

For a few moments, Marnie watched the wedding planner pick at a small salad, trying to find fault with her, but found she couldn’t. No. There was something genuine about her, something true and down to earth, and Marnie tried and failed to dislike her. Ari’s brother, on the other hand, she already detested. Sebastian Lightowler was putting on an act, Marnie knew, and simpering for Sasha’s approval in a way that Marnie found she just couldn’t respect.

Marnie took a deep breath. Queen and Country would plan this wedding, of that there was now no doubt. Sasha wanted them, and what Sasha wanted, she invariably got. That didn’t mean Marnie had to make it easy for the two wedding planners though, who were probably twitching with excitement at the commission this wedding would earn them. Still, while it was easy enough to dismiss Sebastian, it wasn’t so easy to dismiss his sister, who answered all of Marnie’s questions thoughtfully, with a clear voice and pleasant smile.

No. The more she talked, the more Marnie liked Ari Lightowler. Tom would like her too, a small voice piped up in Marnie’s mind, which made her sit up with surprise. It’s the truth, she realised, Tom would like this woman. In fact, Marnie suspected he would like her very much.

“Good news!” came the hair-raising, sing-song voice of Sebastian. “We’ve had a chat, a little rethink, and we’ve decided we can do anything you want us to, darling.”

Marnie watched as he sank into the chair beside Sasha, who clasped her hands together in excitement.

“If you want Luis De León,” he continued, “we’ll get him for you. If you want Stella Snow, well, you’ve come to the right people.”

It made Marnie want to be sick, the way Sasha embraced him, as if he was an old friend and not someone who had already spent — mentally anyway — at least half a million dollars of Marnie’s money.

“And you can do everything in seven weeks ?” Marnie asked, emphasising once again the tight time frame.

“Oh, absolutely!” he gushed, still holding Sasha’s grasping hands. “Of course, it won’t be easy, or cheap.” He winked at her. “But we can do everything our little poppet has her heart set on.”

Marnie nodded, reaching over to take a large swig of her own drink. She looked at Ari, who seemed slightly worried, a small crease in her forehead as she stared at her food.

“What was the issue?” Marnie asked her. “What did you need to talk about?”

“Oh . . .” Ari blushed. “It was nothing. Sebastian and I have sorted it.”

“It took you a good ten minutes to work through that ‘nothing’,” Marnie remarked. “Are you sure?”

Sebastian, who must have a bloodhound’s nose for smelling trouble, looked up. “It was just a little issue about childcare. We worked it out though.”

Marnie looked from Ari to Sebastian and back again in confusion. “You mean... The two of you have a child? I’m sorry — I thought you were brother and sister.”

At that, Sebastian burst into laughter, and a small smile even graced Ari’s face.

“We are,” she explained gently. “I have a daughter. She’s seven. Luis watches her whenever Sebastian and I are out on the wedding circuit. He’s a good uncle. He’ll bring her over with him when he comes to do Sasha’s dress fitting.”

“ You have a seven-year-old?” Marnie asked in disbelief, taking in Ari’s young features and slim frame. “I don’t mean to pry, but you can’t have been very old when you became a mother.”

“Twenty-one,” Ari admitted.

Twenty-one, thought Marnie with dismay. Too young to be a mother.

“Are you married? Or divorced? Or . . .”

Or. At that question, Marnie saw what she thought was a hint of pain cross over Ari’s pretty features.

“No,” Ari said softly. “No. My daughter — her name is Reine — anyway, her father is... not on the scene. At least, not at the moment.”

There was something poignant in the girl’s words. So poignant, sad even, that Marnie opened her mouth to speak before thinking better of it. She didn’t want to pry into what was clearly a point of pain.

Sasha, however, wasn’t quite so tactful. “What does that mean, ‘not at the moment’?” she asked.

Marnie nearly groaned.

“Oh, trust me, this is a can of worms you two don’t need to open,” Sebastian intoned playfully. “Let’s talk more about your wedding. So, then, Sasha. How are you feeling about a veil? Is it a yay or a nay?”

Marnie eyed Sebastian sharply. Beneath his flippant tone, she was certain she could detect a kind of concern. Suddenly, she was convinced he was trying to move the conversation away from Ari and back to Sasha — not out of deference to the bride, but out of concern for his sister.

Which, of course, made a vulture like Sasha only curious to know more.

“No, I want to know about Ari’s baby daddy.” Sasha smiled, tapping Sebastian’s fingers sharply, and Marnie — sharp-eyed — saw Sebastian stiffen. So, he hated her too, she thought.

“Well, we only have seven weeks, darling,” he wheedled her. “We should really—”

But Ari suddenly cleared her throat, patting Sebastian’s shoulder gently. “It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about him.”

“Ari, are you sure?”

But Sasha hushed him. “Let her talk.”

Ari gave a small shrug. “Honestly, Sasha, there really isn’t much to tell. I fell in love during my gap year.”

“Gap year?” Sasha frowned.

“A break between studying and work,” Ari explained. “I finished a foundation course in art and design, and then went off to do a European tour. I fell in love, and we had six months together. And then his father got sick, and he had to leave and...” Ari trailed off, and Marnie could see her trying to talk over what must be a lump in her throat. “Anyway, he had to go, but he promised one day he would come back for me, and then I found out about Reine and...” She trailed off again, falling silent at the table.

“But didn’t you try to find him? Once you knew about the baby?” Sasha asked.

Ari nodded. “Yes. But there was just no trace of him. Not anywhere. All I had was a phone number, which only ever led to a dial tone. It was like he just... disappeared.”

“He promised to come back, but left you with a fake phone number?” Sasha raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “That’s not a man who’s coming back. That’s a man who got what he wanted and took off, honey.”

“Sasha,” hissed Marnie under her breath.

But Ari, rather than looking bothered by Sasha’s cutting words, simply smiled. “He left me with something else.” There was a note of pride in her voice. “He left me with something he treasured.”

“A diamond? An emerald?” Sasha asked excitedly.

“No . . . A playing card.”

Sasha rapidly seemed to deflate, clearly losing interest in the conversation, but at Ari’s words, Marnie sat up.

“What do you mean, he left you with a playing card?”

“The queen of spades,” Ari said warmly, a smile on her lips as she spoke. “And not just any playing card, but one that came from a deck that once belonged to a queen of France.”

A shiver ran down Marnie’s spine, almost like premonition, or maybe superstition. She inexplicably thought of Corentin, of where he was and what he was doing, feeling a sudden, intense need to speak with him.

“A queen of France?” Sasha queried, furrowing her brow. “How did he get a playing card that belonged to a queen of France?”

“I don’t know,” Ari said. “I don’t know how he got the card, but—”

“Tea, ma’am,” a voice interrupted, and Marnie, taking deep, steadying breaths, watched as Mrs Hollis came towards them, laden down by a tray stacked with Julie’s hideous tea set. Marnie’s fingers remained clenched as the housekeeper set the tray down, ladling out cups and pouring out tea all the while making innocuous remarks about the dark weather. Abruptly, she seemed to notice the empty chair and remaining cup on her tray.

Mrs Hollis looked to Marnie questioningly. “Tom’s not here?”

Sasha pouted. “No,” she snapped. “He’s fucking late.”

Marnie unclenched her fingers, only to find them shaking slightly. She picked up her tea, taking a small sip, trying to mask the uncertainty in her hand.

“Get used to it,” she told Sasha. “You know what these pilots are like. Doug was the same. Once they get in the air, they lose track of time.”

“Well, I’ll be sorting that out first, no mistake about it,” Sasha said tetchily, drinking her own tea. “He promised he would be here, and I’m going to be his wife. I should always come first.”

“Tom will be here, don’t worry,” Marnie reassured her, before turning back to Ari. “Did you know the groom was named Tom? Have you met him yet?”

“I did know his name, but we haven’t met him yet. To be honest, after this tea we might head over to our hotel and freshen up. We need to call Luis too, get him over here—”

“With your daughter,” Marnie said bluntly. “You said he’ll be bringing your daughter.”

“Um, yes,” Ari said. “I’m sorry, it’s not very professional, I know, but — ? ”

“Your daughter’s father,” Marnie interrupted. She felt on the precipice of something big, of something huge, and she needed to know . “What was his name?”

Ari stared at her, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. “I don’t see why that matters.”

“I have contacts,” Marnie lied on the spot. “They might be able to find him, you know. He was British like you, yes?”

Ari cleared her throat. “Actually, no. He was American.”

There it was again, that slight rush to Marnie’s head and stomach. As the adrenaline running through her blood made her feel queasy, she picked up her tea, bringing the motif of pink flowers to her lips and taking a sip.

“American.” Marnie repeated.

“Yes.” Ari gave a small smile. “American.”

“What was his name?” Marnie demanded, clenching her cup in her hand.

“Tom,” Ari said simply.

“Another Tom?” Marnie gave what even to her sounded like a hollow and entirely fake laugh. “I have a Tom. The groom. The groom’s name is Tom,” she chattered on, full of nervous energy. “Looks like they’re everywhere.”

“Maybe.” Ari smiled back. “This one was called Tom Miller.”

The cup in Marnie’s hand shattered, pink and blue flowers raining onto the tablecloth, tea spilling in every direction.

“Marnie!” Sasha jumped up, brushing spots of tea from her immaculate white dress, while Marnie sat there, her hands empty and shaking.

Ari reached over and took Marnie’s hand. “Good God, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a moment, Marnie stared into Ari’s kind, soft eyes.

Tom Miller. Eight years ago. They had six months, and Ari... Ari had a baby.

“I’m fine,” Marnie replied, a strange kind of calm running through her. “Although I should probably go and clean up.”

She watched as Ari and Sebastian exchanged looks.

“Well, we should probably head to the hotel,” Sebastian said slowly. “As for contracts—”

“No hotel,” Marnie announced. “You’ll need access to the bride and wedding venue. You can stay here.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t ask you to—”

“I’ll have rooms made up for you. And for Luis De León,” Marnie said firmly. Then her voice softened. “And for your daughter, Miss Lightowler.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Ari said gently. “She’s very exuberant and—”

“A big old place like this could do with a young child about it,” Marnie interrupted. “I’ll have the rooms made up immediately, and as for contracts, I’ll sign one now.”

Sebastian stared at her. “We could run through it with you first if you like.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Marnie dusted the remains of one of Julie’s teacups from her fingers. “I’ll sign them all and transfer you your deposit. In fact, do you have the contract with you? I can sign it right now.”

Wordlessly, Sebastian pulled a pile of paperwork from his bag.

“This is the standard contract,” he explained, “obviously I’ll send you an item-by-item breakdown of the expenses and—”

“Excellent,” Marnie replied mindlessly, pulling out a pen and signing the contract in all the places Sebastian pointed out.

Sasha looked delighted, turning to Sebastian and pulling him into a hug once more. But Marnie only had eyes for Ari.

“Your daughter,” she started slowly. “You said her name was Reine?”

Ari blushed. She was very pretty, Marnie realised. She could see why he’d been taken with her.

“Reine means queen, in French,” Ari explained. “Like my playing card. I wanted Tom to have a say in her name, even when he wasn’t there.”

Marnie felt a rush of warmth run through her. “You must have really loved him.”

“Yes,” Ari replied. “He was everything to me.”

Something inside of Marnie warmed further. She still loves him , she realised. She’s never stopped loving him.

“Well, I am most assuredly looking forward to working with you, Miss Lightowler, and—”

But Marnie didn’t get a chance to finish her words. Sasha’s phone was ringing. When she answered it, she went pale, clutching Sebastian.

“Marnie,” Sasha called. “It’s Tom.”

“What about Tom?” Marnie asked.

“He’s in the hospital,” Sasha replied, “His plane crashed.”

Marnie fell back into her chair with a slump. “Is he . . . Is he . . .”

“No,” Sasha answered. “Only injured. But we need to get to him. Now.”

* * *

When Tom opened his eyes, his mother loomed over him like an agitated spectre.

“I need to talk to you,” she said sharply.

He moaned. “I’ve literally just woken up after crashing Dad’s plane. Can we talk later? My head hurts. Go and get a doctor.”

“The doctor already spoke to me, you’re fine. A bit beat up maybe, and they’re going to keep you in overnight in case you have a concussion, but otherwise you’re in pretty good shape for a man who just fell out of the sky.”

“How’s the plane?” Tom asked.

“Salvageable,” Marnie replied. “Just.”

“Great.” Tom closed his eyes again. “Can I have some pain relief now?”

“Later,” Marnie snapped. “I want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, you said that. What about?”

Marnie took a deep breath. When Tom opened his eyes, she was pacing about his tiny hospital room.

“Mom,” he complained. “You’re making me nervous.”

When Marnie turned back, her eyes were black. “Growing up in our family, you learn not to ask questions,” she began, and Tom groaned. Great, he thought. Another ‘in our family’ chat.

“Mom, not now, okay? I’m—”

“My mother died of cancer and my father couldn’t cope. I accepted that. I was shunted from family member to family member while he got himself together, from good old Uncle Corentin who farmed worms to good old Uncle Tom who played chess in his dressing gown. I never asked any questions, I just did as I was told.”

“Uncle Tom was cool, you said as much yourself, that’s why you named me for him and—”

“I’m not finished,” Marnie said. “I didn’t ask any questions when I suddenly went back to living with my father, and my father didn’t ask any questions when I married your father. All this silent acceptance... it carried on and on. I didn’t ask any questions when your father ran off with his floozies. I didn’t ask any questions when your brother decided to become a Druid and celebrate solstices at ancient stone circles.” She paused, almost dramatically. “Tom, I didn’t ask any questions when you came back after an absence of years.”

Tom blanched. “Mom,” he whispered.

But Marnie shook her head. “Today I’m going to ask you questions, Tom,” she said firmly, “and you are going to answer them.”

He swallowed, his mouth dry.

“And I want to know, first and foremost, about the woman you met back when you were calling yourself Tom Miller.”