Chapter 5
FIVE
OXFORDSHIRE
The Wedding
November 2005
October turned into November. Vic and Nate continued to pass like ships in the night. Their Sunday showers didn’t happen, and Nate didn’t even ask for them anymore. Conversations were short. After the first flush, Vic felt surprisingly little guilt. Nate didn’t seem to notice any difference in her. And then Mandy and Steve’s wedding was upon them, in a beautiful hotel in the Cotswolds. And as the happy couple shared their vows, Vic couldn’t help but feel a twinge of grief for the passion she and Nate had once shared. The absence of physical intimacy between them had created a quiet tension, a longing that hung in the air like unspoken words. She had managed to push the night with Danny right to the back of her mind. In fact, she was actually quite scared how easily her guilt had waned. Her justification for not saying anything was that it had been fun, a physical act of pleasure devoid of all emotion, and what good would it do to tell Nate and hurt him? Did that make her a coward?
Her decision to do nothing and say nothing, had changed nothing. Because an answer hadn’t come to her yet, and she was still in the same state of flux she had been in prior to her infidelity. Maybe her cheating had in fact highlighted that, despite her confusion, she did see a future with Nate. Because if she had wanted to end it, then telling him she’d slept with another man for fun, after turning Nate down for sex on many an occasion, would be a sure-fire way to get him to leave her. Or maybe it was just that she was too scared to make a decision, because of the practicalities it would throw up. But that was no way to live.
The only decision she’d made was that Christmas – the ultimate buffer for wants, dreams and major life events – would mark the end of her procrastination. And as soon as the festivities were over, she would attempt to hatch a life plan.
The wedding service itself was beautiful. During the plethora of after-dinner speeches, including the best man, the mother of the bride, the father of the bride, the husband, the bride, and the second cousin of Aunt Fanny (when did just the best man’s speech become not enough?), Vic and Nate necked champagne like they had never tasted it before. Then, as the ballroom was being turned into a dance floor for the evening reception, Nate grabbed a half-full bottle of white wine and a couple of glasses from a table and led Victoria to a quiet corner.
‘Vic,’ Nate said as he poured them each a glass of chilled French Sauvignon.
‘Even the way you said my name sounded ominous then. What’s up?’ She took the offered glass.
‘We need to talk. We need to talk about us, Vic. Cheers.’ They clinked glasses. ‘It’s been so long since we… well, you know. Got jiggy. Played hide the sausage.’ He let out a weird noise, something between laughter and despair.
Vic’s face remained straight. ‘Can you ever be serious? ’
‘That’s what you fell in love with, wasn’t it? The buffoon in me.’
‘There’s a lot more to you than that.’ Vic felt tears sting her eyes. ‘I’m so glad you’ve said something.’
‘I miss it, Vic. I miss us. I miss the closeness we used to have. If you don’t want to be with me, then just tell me. I’m a big boy, you know. I can take it.’
‘Can you ever see yourself marrying me, Nate?’
‘Wow! Sharpie! What the fuck?’ Nate took a huge slug of wine. ‘You can do better than that for a proposal, though, can’t you?’ He smirked.
‘Stop diverting. I want to know.’ Vic didn’t smile. ‘Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?’
‘Well… the whole marriage thing… erm… not yet. This entire day must have cost a fortune. We need money to do that, and your mum and my dad are hardly rolling in it, are they? And we have zero savings, don’t we? And I kind of don’t believe in it, really.’
An unexpected dart of relief ran through her. ‘And how about having kids? Is that even on your radar?’
‘Whoa, Vic. What’s happening here?’ Nate took another huge glug of wine.
Tears started to run slowly down Vic’s face. ‘It’s just… with Mandy getting married, I kind of thought that might be the next step for us. And look… Nate.’ Her ‘say nothing, do nothing until the time was right’ plan suddenly fell into swing. The time had come. ‘I love you, Nate, but I’m not sure we are travelling in the same direction anymore.’
‘I love you, too , Vic. A bit of paper won’t change anything. And as for kids, never say never. Let’s talk about it. If it’s what you want, we can make it work.’
‘That’s the thing – I don’t even know if I want kids. And you’re hardly stable where jobs are concerned. I don’t want to struggle like my mum has all her life. And if I’m honest, after the turmoil I faced growing up, I’d worry so much about being a good enough mum.’
‘So, you’re prepared to give us up to go and find some rich geezer to give you the life you want. Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Don’t be silly. That’s not what I want. I don’t need to be looked after.’ Fuelled by alcohol, Vic’s subconscious began to do its usual job of rearing its head. ‘It makes me so angry that we’ve never had an open and honest conversation about what we want out of life. As long as I’ve known you, we’ve just skipped around, playing at life.’
‘No, we have been living it, Vic. Like everybody else. Getting through and making the best of it. So come on, then, let’s talk now. I didn’t even know you were thinking like this. Which makes you as much to blame here as me with this one. I would happily continue as we are forever. Bloody society setting its two-point-two-kid ratio, and women having to be married by a certain age, and the importance placed on owning a house. It’s all bullshit!’
‘And there lies the problem.’ Vic took a drink. ‘I want to do more with my life. With my art. And as women, we do have a countdown with regards to a family.’
‘Make your mind up, Vic. What is it – marriage? Kids? Work? Are you not happy with anything in your life?’
‘This is it. I’m so confused. I don’t actually know what will make me happy. There, I said it. And… maybe us women, we can’t have it all?’ Victoria paused and sighed. ‘And I don’t even know if I want it all or…’ Another pause. ‘Or maybe running away and living off the land is the right answer.’
‘Living off the land? What the hell are you on about?’ He put his hand on top of hers. ‘I’ve never stopped you doing anything, Vic, ever. In my humble opinion, you are stopping yourself.’ Nate became animated. ‘You have the talent, and you have the balls. I am in awe of your creativity. A little bit jealous, in fact. You know what you are good at! Follow your dreams, Vic. There is nothing that would make me happier. And as for you having a baby, if you decide that’s what you want, then let’s worry about it when it happens. Stop overthinking everything.’
He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Any kid would be lucky to call you its mum.’
‘You mean that?’ Vic’s voice was childlike.
Nate nodded. ‘Of course I do.’
‘And have I really got the talent?’
Nate sighed deeply. ‘For fuck’s sake, Vic, you make things so hard for yourself.’ He downed his wine and suddenly looked serious. ‘And I don’t think you realise quite how hard it is loving someone who clearly doesn’t love herself.’
Nate’s hand reached for Vic’s, their fingers gently squeezing and then, in their drunken haze, in the dark corner of a noisy wedding, they were kissing. A tender kiss that conveyed a multitude of unspoken emotions. The familiarity of each other’s searching lips rekindling a flame that had been dimmed, but not extinguished.
Back in their hotel room, their lovemaking went from fast and furious to loving and tender. Passionate yet a little angry. Intimate yet defiant. Nate, ever the considerate and compassionate lover, ensuring Vic was sated before he came, too. As he did he burst into tears. Vic had never seen Nate cry.
‘Darling, what’s wrong?’ Vic kissed his forehead.
‘If we are going to be open and honest with each other, then I have to tell you something. Something really bad.’ Biting his lip, he turned his head away.
‘You’re scaring me now. What is it?’ Vic sat up in bed. Nate got up, went to the bathroom, and put on the soft, white hotel robe, which looked comically short on his long body. ‘Just tell me!’ Vic urged.
‘You know the weekend you went to Brighton? ’
‘Yes.’ Vic’s voice shook, the drink escalating her anger.
‘I slept with someone else.’
‘I see.’ Vic’s voice came out oddly calm. ‘Let me guess. Ruthie, was it?’ She said the other woman’s name in a babyish voice.
‘How the fuck did you?—?’
‘Call it women’s intuition. You mentioned her in the kitchen once when I came back from Mum’s. And the night of the hen, I rang you and a woman answered your phone and said she didn’t know you had a girlfriend. Who works with someone, and doesn’t know if they have a partner or not?’
‘I’m so sorry, Vic.’ Nate came to sit on the bed. ‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’
‘I had a moment of doubt, then brushed the phone call away as I thought maybe I was just being paranoid. You’ve always had girls as friends, so I didn’t really think anything of it until now.’
‘Vic, I’m so fucking sorry.’ He went to hold her hand and she pulled it away.
‘Just a one-off, was it?’ Vic felt tears threatening to break free. Nate was silent for far too long. ‘That’s a no, then. You just told me you loved me, and you’ll have kids if I want them.’
‘You’re different, Vic. That was different.’
Vic’s voice lowered. ‘When else?’
Nate remained mute.
‘When else?’ Vic shouted again.
Nate faltered. ‘That weekend you were at your mum’s.’
‘See. I knew it!’ Victoria felt sick as the tears started to flow. ‘You tried to fuck me that night too! What is wrong with you?’
‘Me and you weren’t having sex, Vic. The girl put it on a plate. She’s left work now. She wanted more from me, but I said there was no way I was leaving you, that it’s you I love. It was just lust with her – it meant nothing! And I’m so, so sorry. You mean everything to me. ’
‘So why tell me now?’
‘Because it’s been eating me up inside, Vic.’
Amidst the anger and pain, Vic felt a sudden rush of relief: the burden of being the cheater somewhat lifted. This would be the ideal time to throw her own infidelity hat into the ring. To say, I understand exactly what you are saying because I’ve done exactly the same, too. And I’m sorry. Really fucking sorry. But two wrongs didn’t make a right and she clearly was a coward. Nate laying himself bare had weirdly made her respect him more than ever. But could she forgive him? Because knowing he had slept with someone else was hurting her a whole lot more than she had expected. She got off the bed and started frantically getting dressed.
‘What are you doing? Come here.’ Nate tried to pull her into an embrace.
‘I want to go home.’ Vic’s voice wobbled.
Nate sighed. ‘It’s late, we’re both pissed, and you’ll never get a train back to London at this time.’
‘Then I’ll find Orla and stay in her room.’
Nate blocked her escape route. ‘This can’t be the end of us. Please, Vic. It honestly meant nothing. I love you. I properly love you. I will do anything to make it up to you.’
Vic put her hand to her head, her face pained. ‘I just need time to think. OK? I’m so bloody confused. About everything.’
‘OK, but travel home with me tomorrow, please. We can talk. I just had to tell you. I respect you too much.’
Vic shut the door behind her and rang down to the hotel reception. ‘Hi there. I’m staying in room 205 with Orla O’Malley and I’ve mislaid my key. Could you send someone up to let me in, please?’
Vic awoke alone in a king-size bed. Her head was pounding. Groaning, she reached for her phone and checked her messages. Nothing from Nate, but a late-night reply from Orla saying that she had pulled ‘a live wire’ and would come straight back to the room as soon as she was up.
Vic took in the fancy hotel bedroom – the headboard, crafted from reclaimed wood, adding a connection to the surrounding countryside. She had been so distracted when she had got there that she hadn’t bothered to shut the heavy red curtains, so long decadent windows let in natural light and allowed for views of the rolling hills and lush gardens that surrounded the charming Cotswold-stone listed building.
She was just about to make herself a cup of tea when Orla came tearing in, slammed the door shut dramatically and flopped down on the love seat in the window alcove. Her smudged smoky-eye make-up made her look like a panda, and her hair had settled itself into a gloriously huge afro. ‘Jaysus, Vic, I’m so sorry I gave a cock more importance than you. I didn’t see your message until so late.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine. I was so pissed I crashed out.’ Vic took in her mate’s unkempt appearance. ‘Orla, just look at the state of you!’
‘I know! Who’d have thought it of the quiet, unassuming Mr Winkler?’
‘Nooo! The head from Mandy’s school Mr Winkler, you mean?’ Vic was wide-eyed. ‘I thought he was married.’
‘I didn’t ask but he was obviously ready for some kind of action, so he was, as he had a cane in his bag and didn’t spare the horses when he used it on me, I can tell you. He kept shouting, “Give the head some head.” Hilarious! What a night! I need coffee and some soothing antiseptic ointment delicately applied to the welts on my arse.’ Vic screwed up her face. ‘Anyways, what the feck are you doing in here? What’s going on with you and Nate?’
Vic handed her mate a coffee. ‘Oh, Orla, I really don’t know what to do. And for goodness’ sake don’t say “do nothing” this time. It’s too big for that now.’ She passed Orla a milk sachet.
‘Will you just fecking tell me? I’m dying here.’ Orla took a sip of her drink, screwed up her face and reached for the sugar.
‘Nate slept with some girl from the restaurant. Twice .’
‘Oh. Did you say, “Touché, darling – I bet my Brighton boy was hotter?”’ On realising that Vic wasn’t finding her the remotest bit funny, Orla got up and moved to sit next to her friend on the bed, and placed a hand on her knee. ‘I’m sorry, mate. How are you feeling?’
‘It’s just a mess, isn’t it? How can I possibly be angry, when I’ve done the same? Although him doing it twice means that only the first time it probably wasn’t planned, so you could say he’s the worse of the two of us.’
‘Blimey, that’s a lot to get my head around at this time of the morning. So, did you tell him about Blondie?’
‘No!’
‘Are you going to?’
‘No.’ Vic groaned. ‘Maybe I should, now. I don’t even know what to feel anymore.’
‘OK, so my advice, for what it’s worth, mate, is for you to have a break from Nate. Get your head straight. You can then maybe tell him about Blondie once you’ve had the break if you want to, so you are both on a clear and honest footing. Being honest, if it was me, I wouldn’t say a word. You can act the spurned woman with Nate and dine out on it for years to come. And, whilst you’re apart, work out what it is you really want. See if you do miss him.’
‘It has really pissed me off, him sleeping with someone else.’
‘Is that because it obviously would do, or because you really do care about the bloke?’
‘Hmm. OK. I hear you. Your “time apart” idea is a good one.’
‘Yeah, ’cos even if you don’t realise it, you’re clearly both unhappy. And I know I’m the queen of the one-night stands, but I do believe that if you genuinely love someone, you don’t cheat on them.’
‘But life isn’t always that clear cut, Orla, is it?’ Vic sighed deeply. ‘I so don’t want to go back to Mum’s – being there alone would depress me, even without having to do the London commute every day as well.’
‘You can stay with me.’ Orla took a sip of coffee.
‘Oh, Orla, I dunno. Your sofa bed is like a rock.’
‘Hark at the princess and the pea here. It’s fine. Aletta has already gone home to Amsterdam for an extended Christmas break. She won’t be in London again until mid-January. You can have her room. She’s cleared most of it out, anyways.’
‘Well… if you’re sure. You’re nearer to work, too, so that’s perfect, and I’d much rather be away from our flat so that I can think properly, on neutral ground.’ Vic kissed Orla’s cheek. ‘Thanks, mate.’ She reached for her phone. ‘I’d better ring a taxi to take me to the train station. Nate wanted me to travel home with him, but I just couldn’t face talking to him, so I lied and said I was coming back with you in the car.’
Orla grimaced. ‘I feel bad. I’m stopping off to stay at my sister’s now, or I really could have driven you back.’
‘Don’t be silly. You have a life too, and it’s not your fault my relationship is in tatters. I will go home, pack a bag, and tell Nate that I’m moving out for a while.’
‘How do you think he’ll take it?’ Orla winced as she shifted on the bed.
‘At this precise moment, I don’t actually care.’ Vic poked her head in the mini-bar and made a gagging noise. ‘Even looking at the wine makes me feel a bit sick. I’ll take a couple of Cokes for the journey, OK?’
‘Go for it.’ Orla waved her hand nonchalantly.
Vic placed the cans into her handbag.
‘So, I’ll see you back in London tomorrow night. Here, take my key – and no wild parties in the flat without me, OK?’ Orla grinned.
Vic put the key in her bag. ‘I do love an after-wedding breakfast, but I can’t face anyone this morning, and I don’t want Mandy to have to get involved in this so soon after her wedding. So, can you just tell her that I felt so awful I had to head straight home? That’s not even a lie.’
‘Of course. But what was it Marilyn Monroe said? “If you can’t take me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” Me, you and Mand – we’re friends forever, you know that.’
‘Let’s give her a break today of all days, though, eh? Love you, mate, and thanks so much for having me at yours.’ Vic leant down to kiss the top of Orla’s wild black hair.
‘Love you back, and Sharpie, it’ll all work out just grand. Don’t you worry.’