Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Astrid, understandably, needed to talk to India so I suggested I took Sofia, who was dying to see Firefly, down to the stables and India could meet us there later.
Angela said she was happy to wake Marilise from her nap, so before long Sofia and I were crunching our way over the gravel, accompanied by Steve who must have had enough of being cooped up inside while Nick worked.
Sofia chattered away happily about school, the new friends she had made and the play, and I was glad to supply the occasional question but otherwise let her talk as much as she wanted.
I don’t know much about horses, but Firefly appeared pleased to see us and we fed him some carrots that Sofia had grabbed from the kitchen on the way, and I enjoyed the feel of his velvety, whiskery muzzle on my hand as I fed and petted him.
‘Hello!’
A voice came from behind and we turned to see India, looking happier than I had seen her for days.
‘All good?’ I asked.
‘All great,’ she said, patting Firefly. ‘Mum told me that you know what’s happened; thanks for looking after her.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ I said, and quicky explained to Sofia about Philip and the broken engagement.
‘That’s sad,’ said Sofia, concern clouding her little face.
‘Not really,’ said India, unbolting the stable door and leading her horse out.
She tied his rope to an iron ring set into the wall, then went into a small room and emerged with three brushes.
She handed one to me and one to Sofia, then grinned at what was presumably a look of complete bemusement on my face.
‘Just do his neck and sides,’ she said. ‘Brush in the direction the hair grows and you can’t go wrong. ’
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I undertook my task with diligence as India continued talking.
‘I’m sorry that my mum’s upset, but I’m not at all sorry that she’s not marrying Philip,’ she continued. ‘I hope we don’t have to leave Lyonscroft – we both love it here.’
‘We should do something to cheer her up,’ piped up Sofia. ‘Like you did for me when I first arrived.’
‘Another window of the advent calendar?’ I said. ‘That’s a great idea. Do you think your mum would like that, India?’
‘Yes, I’m sure she would. What should we give her? I’ve already bought her Christmas present – it’s a pretty necklace, so not jewellery.’
‘Maybe she’d like a reindeer like Reddo,’ suggested Sofia, stroking the head of the toy, which was poking out of her coat as usual. ‘He’s so nice.’
I smiled.
‘She may well do, but I was wondering about a Christmas plant or flower, seeing as she loves gardens so much. I’m going out this evening, so I could get it on my way, the garden centre is open late.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ said India. ‘And we can do the number to put up.’
This arranged, it was time for me to go back to Marilise before steeling myself for an evening with my family.
I picked up a beautiful arrangement of ivy and cyclamen in a basket planter before heading to my parents’ house.
The wedding dress designer was coming for the final fitting, and it had been deemed necessary for me to attend as well.
I had hoped that it would be a three-line whip for all the bridesmaids, but Araminta had told me over text that she, at least, wasn’t invited.
I was sorry; it would have been nice to have her there.
Instead, as I parked my car, I saw Dorothea’s enormous ‘compact’ white SUV parked outside that she liked barging around the roads in.
Why it was called ‘compact’ when it loomed over my modest hatchback, I wasn’t sure, but it was as vulgar and overbearing as its driver.
I let myself in, calling out a greeting, and Mum came bustling out of the sitting room and gave me a hug.
‘Come in, Dorothea’s here already and the dress lady will come at any minute.’
I followed her into the sitting room where I found Steph in an ivory satin robe with “Bride” emblazoned across the back in diamanté, looking at Dorothea, who was squeezed into the same peach satin I presumed I was supposed to wear.
‘Hello,’ said Steph. ‘We thought we should try on the bridesmaids’ dresses at the same time. Yours is upstairs on Mum and Dad’s bed – go and put it on, will you?’
‘I’m probably not wearing the right underwear,’ I said weakly, but I should have known to save my breath.
‘Well, that doesn’t matter,’ said Dorothea bossily. ‘We need an idea of how it looks, so go on.’
Resigned, I plodded upstairs and found the dress, which I put on.
I hardly dared glance at myself in the mirror.
I don’t have a bad figure, but the peach satin did everything it could to emphasise the bits I usually tried to disguise.
It was sleeveless, with a high, collared halterneck that made me look distinctly matronly.
The front was completely smooth and unadorned, leaving nowhere for a normal body to hide, and the back was scooped low, almost to the top of my bottom.
Not only was I definitely not wearing the right underwear, but I couldn’t imagine what underwear would be right.
I nearly took it off then and there, with a promise to Steph that I would buy something else in the same fabric, but then she shouted up the stairs to me to hurry and I fell into the old habit of jumping to attention.
I hobbled downstairs and displayed myself miserably to the assorted company, which now included the woman who had brought the wedding dress.
She looked at me with something approaching sympathy while Steph stalked around me with a critical glare.
‘Well, you were right about the underwear,’ was her first comment, warming up. ‘You’ll need your shapewear for this dress.’
‘I don’t have any shapewear,’ I muttered.
Steph, Dorothea, the wedding dress lady and my mother all looked at me in horror. My father poured himself another drink.
‘Well, you’ll have to get some,’ said Steph.
‘Why on earth don’t you have any already?
’ I shrugged; I couldn’t be bothered to answer.
She ploughed on. ‘Maybe Marnie’ – she nodded at the wedding dress lady – ‘will help you find something. The colour’s draining you, but make-up can sort that out, and you’ll have to get a spray tan a couple of days before.
You can come back here for that; I’m arranging for someone to come to the house. ’
There was a pause, which I belatedly realised was for me to thank her.
‘I’ll need to check,’ I said instead. ‘I’ll be working then.’
‘Well, you’ll need to figure it out,’ replied Steph, brushing aside the small fact of my job. ‘Right, you’d better go and get changed, both of you – we need to get on with my dress.’
I scuttled back upstairs as quickly as I could in the tight satin and peeled it off gratefully, pulling my clothes back on. Then I perched on the side of the bed and fired off a text to Minty:
Have you tried your dress on yet? I look like an uncooked sausage in mine. Do you think Steph will notice if I wear a knee-length poncho on the day?
I added a few ‘crying with laughter’ emojis, then hastened downstairs before I could get into any more trouble.
I had to admit that the wedding dress Steph had chosen was extremely beautiful, and once I was sitting on the sofa with a drink my father had pushed into my hand – ‘just a single, darling, I know you’re driving, but it might help’ – I started to enjoy myself.
No one was looking at or criticising me, and I restricted my comments to the bland and uncontroversial, which met with approval.
Steph dragged the whole thing out, even to the extent that my mother was getting twitchy, as the pasta bake she had made was slowly drying out in the oven.
But eventually we bid Marnie goodbye and sat down to eat.
For the first half of the meal, the conversation revolved around the wedding, then suddenly Steph asked me, ‘Are you still bringing Nick as your plus one?’
I said that I was, dreading where this was going.
‘He won’t stay, you know,’ said Dorothea stridently, helping herself to more garlic bread.
‘What’s this?’ asked Mum, her radar twitching. ‘I didn’t know you were bringing someone, Laura. I thought I was just about on top of the seating plan, and now we’ll have to start again.’
‘I told Steph ages ago,’ I said, not prepared to take the blame for the seating plan.
‘But I didn’t think you were serious,’ she said, staring at me with her eyes wide open. ‘I mean – Nick Prince!’
She giggled, and Dorothea guffawed.
‘Well, I am,’ I said, putting down my fork. ‘And I don’t see what’s so funny about it. Even if he does go back to LA – well, maybe I’ll go with him.’
Damn. I hadn’t meant to say that.
There was silence at the table as everyone took this in. Steph was the first to recover.
‘You can’t go to LA. I thought you were going to come and help me with the baby.’ Now, all eyes swivelled towards her. What baby? was clearly the unspoken question in everyone’s mind. She looked around belligerently. ‘Hugo and I are going to start trying as soon as we’re married.’
‘How exciting!’ said Mum, her mind probably swiftly moving from table plans to cots.
‘I’m going to be a grandmother, finally!
’ I could feel the pasta bake making its way back up again as images flashed through my mind: the miscarriages, the negative tests, Paulo.
‘And how lovely that you’re planning to help, Laura.
You can’t go to LA with this Nick, then, can you? ’
It was as if the deal was done, my life stitched up into a neat parcel and handed to me.
‘Do you know a lot about babies?’ asked Dorothea.
I shook my head.
‘But she’s going to learn, aren’t you, Laura?’ trilled Steph. ‘She’ll do some retraining and be just in time! No need to look so glum, Laura – we’ll pay you, of course.’
I pushed my chair back and stood up. I knew I had to leave before I said anything else I would regret. The hilarious idea of me moving to LA with Nick would give them enough to talk about when I had gone.
‘I’d better be getting back,’ I said. ‘See you at the hen night.’
I made for the front door, trying to open the stiff lock with one hand while I rooted in my bag for my car keys with the other.
‘Let me help.’
I turned to see Dad, his face a picture of worry and sympathy. Instead of reaching for the lock, he put his arms around me, and I fell into his comforting hug.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing Nick again at the wedding,’ he said quietly. ‘And you do whatever it is that you need to do with your life. God knows you’ve had enough happen to you that you couldn’t control. Steph and your mother will be fine.’
I nodded, his wool sweater scratching against my cheek, then pulled away.
‘Thanks, Dad. I’d better go now, though.’
He opened the door while I found my car keys, and I gave him a wave as I drove off, feeling fractionally lighter but still with too many thoughts rushing around my head for any one person to deal with.
When I arrived back at Lyonscroft, I saw that India and Sofia had put the next number up in the window of a downstairs cloakroom, so I went there first and left the planted basket for Astrid to find in the morning.
It was late, but I was feeling too twitchy to sleep, so I went to the kitchen to make some nighttime tea.
I could see a strip of light under the door as I approached; a rush of happiness zinged through me when it turned out to be Nick sitting at the table, eating toast and flicking through a free local magazine that had been left lying around.
‘How was your evening?’ he asked, closing the magazine and standing up to hug me.
I exhaled loudly.
‘Pretty heavy going,’ I said, filling the kettle. ‘The dress I have to wear is awful, so please don’t look at me for the whole day.’
He laughed.
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t bear that.’
‘It’s peach satin,’ I said warningly. ‘And clings in all the wrong places.’
‘Ah well, there you go,’ he said smugly. ‘There are no wrong places.’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘But tight peach satin could find wrong places on Kate Moss. I’m hoping for some flowers to clutch, or maybe I’ll befriend one of the little ring bearers and keep them in front of me.’
‘Good plan. Was it all right otherwise?’
‘Well, Dorothea was there.’ He pulled a sympathetic face. ‘And my sister was going on at me again about her grand plan for me to retrain as a maternity nurse and help her when the baby she believes will obediently appear exactly nine months after the wedding comes along.’
‘What?’
I went to sit down at the table next to him, my tea forgotten, and explained my sister’s scheme.
‘Is it what you want to do?’ asked Nick.
I chewed my lip.
‘If I can push aside everything I’ve been through and see the idea as simply as Steph does, then it’s not actually terrible.
It probably is time that I tried a different branch of nursing, and I would love working with new mums and babies.
It would only mean a few weeks with Steph and painful though she can be, she is my sister. ’
‘It sounds to me as if she’s asking a lot of you,’ said Nick. ‘You’d have to put your own life on hold for her. What if after a few weeks she decided she wanted you to stay longer? It might be hard to say no.’
I bit my lip.
‘I hadn’t thought about that. And it’s exactly the sort of thing Steph might do.’
‘I don’t want you to be trapped by her.’ He paused, his jaw tense and the old, closed-off look back in his eyes. ‘And I’m not sure what it would mean for us either.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, if you move in with her… You’ll be so busy…’
How quickly he leapt to the conclusion that he was being pushed to one side, once again.
I took his hand and wiggled my fingers into the fist that he had clenched.
‘Not too busy for us,’ I reassured him. ‘I’m not making any decisions, anyway, but it wouldn’t mean we couldn’t be together. There would be plenty of other options besides living in twenty-four hours a day with families. It’s a thought.’
He nodded, then lifted my hand and kissed it.
‘Of course, sorry, I’m being selfish. Now, this peach satin sounds like it will need some rapid removal after the wedding; perhaps I’d better get in some practice now…’
He kissed me properly, then, and we went upstairs to his room through the silent house, all worries for the future forgotten, for now, for the pleasures of the present.