Chapter 19 #2
Tessa’s sister Delia bore a startling resemblance to her sibling.
‘We’re twins,’ she told Lydia. ‘I’m the older one, and the bossier one.
’ She introduced her husband, bald and bearded and genial.
‘If you’re ever selling up,’ he told Lydia, ‘let me know. This house is something else,’ and his wife laughed and told him not to be foolish.
Tessa had travelled from the church with them. Like Ursula, relief was written on her face. She looked calmer, but also less elated than her daughter. ‘For the best,’ she murmured to Lydia, and nothing else.
Ursula’s brother Stephen, lean and long-jawed, in navy like the other men, sought out Lydia in the dining room. ‘Thanks for doing this,’ he said. ‘Ursula’s so grateful. We all are. Mum says she’s filled you in a bit on the home front.’
‘She has. I’m sorry things are . . .’ what word had Tessa used in her letter? ‘. . . delicate.’
He grimaced. ‘I’m no fan of his, but I didn’t think he was capable of this. Mum kept trying to ring him, but couldn’t get through – and finally he texted me to say he wasn’t coming, no explanation, so we went ahead. I walked Ursula up the aisle.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Lydia repeated. What was there to say? ‘Try to enjoy the reception.’
‘Thank you, we will, but Mum is still going back to him. I’ll bring her to my house tonight, and run her home in the morning.’ He seemed to have given up trying to persuade her to leave the marriage.
The rest of the day unfolded. Before they sat down to eat, everyone was ushered to the lawn for photographs by a relative with a camera.
From the window of the big kitchen Lydia watched Tessa, sandwiched between her daughter and her new son-in-law as she smiled for the camera.
How humiliating it must feel for her, everyone witnessing her husband’s shameful, childish behaviour.
What would await her on her return to the family home? Would he be remorseful? Would he regret his non-appearance, or would he simply carry on being the angry, domineering man that Tessa had spoken of?
It struck Lydia that loving someone who didn’t love you back, who treated you badly, was a different kind of pain from bereavement, but maybe no less sharp.
And Tessa had lived with that pain, day in, day out, for years.
Could she still love him? Surely not – and wasn’t the death of love another kind of loss?
She wished again that she could help Tessa, but beyond facilitating today there was nothing she could do.
After the photographs everyone came in for dinner, including Father Phil who had been persuaded to join them.
It was an informal, good-humoured affair that Lydia overheard from the kitchen, where she was helping to plate up the food.
Cathy’s surprise of a side dish of rolex, a Ugandan omelette rolled in chapati, caused Paul’s mother to clap her hands in delight, and declare them delicious.
There were no speeches, and just one toast. ‘Ursula and Paul,’ Stephen said, pushing back his chair.
‘Long life and happiness’ – and Lydia heard the guests get to their feet to echo the sentiment.
She recalled someone – who? – proposing a similar toast at her wedding.
Her father, she thought, and maybe Father Phil had used the phrase on the altar too.
Long life. Little had they known.
Dessert was trifle, and platters of Greta’s goat’s cheese and fruit. No wedding cake. No fuss. Cathy poured teas and coffees and topped up glasses while Lydia listened to snatches of conversation and spatters of laughter.
The evident happiness of the bride and groom gave her a sense of pride.
She’d helped to make this happen. She’d facilitated their joyful day, one they should remember with fondness.
She considered the irony of the absence of the bride’s father adding to the positivity of the occasion, rather than ruining it.
She was stacking plates, conscious of her aching back, when Father Phil materialised beside her.
‘I’m heading off.’
‘I’ll see you out. Thanks again for doing this.’
‘Always happy to help.’ In the hall he gave her a searching look. ‘Was it tough?’
‘I’m fine, just tired. Things got stirred up a little bit, but I’m learning to live with it, like you said.’
He hugged her. ‘I’m proud of you. You’re my hero. Now go and say goodbye to everyone, and put those feet up.’
‘I will.’
She returned to the kitchen. ‘Can I leave you now?’ she asked Cathy.
‘Absolutely – I can take it from here. Thanks a million for your help.’
‘Stay as long as you want,’ she told the wedding party. ‘Sorry I have no other space you can move to. I hope you enjoyed yourselves.’
‘Thanks, Lydia,’ Ursula said. ‘We couldn’t have asked for a better day.’ She looked like what she was: a happily married woman. As she left the room Lydia caught Tessa’s eye, and the older woman mouthed Thank you.
Back in the apartment she changed into pyjamas, although it was just gone eight o’clock.
She was weary from being on her feet. She would treat herself to an early night – but first she would make a toasted cheese sandwich, not having eaten since the bowl of soup she’d had while the wedding party were at the church.
On impulse, she threw on her dressing gown and took her plate and a cup of tea to the patio, her favourite time to sit out there and watch the light soften. She had just finished eating when she heard footsteps, and her heart sank. Not more small talk.
‘Oh!’ Tessa halted when she saw Lydia. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here, I just wanted – I’ll leave you alone.’
‘Please don’t go on my account.’ Of all people, she didn’t mind that it was Tessa. ‘I’m not staying long, but join me for a few minutes.’
‘Well, if you’re sure . . . It’s so lovely out here.’ She sank down next to Lydia and let out a breath. ‘What a day.’
‘I felt it went well.’ Best to stick to the good part of it.
‘It was terrific, couldn’t have gone better. Father Phil is such a nice man, isn’t he?’
‘He’s great.’
‘We were very late starting, and he didn’t mind a bit.’
Lydia let that go. Silence fell between them. She watched the cat nosing into the shrubbery – on the lookout, probably, for unsuspecting field mice. She’d become accustomed to finding little gifts on the patio in the morning.
The shed window remained permanently open, the cat coming and going from it, but she’d also taken to sitting by the apartment door when it was time for her food.
She hadn’t yet crossed the threshold, even when Lydia called her from the kitchen, knowing she shouldn’t encourage what couldn’t be continued, but unable to stop herself.
‘I’m leaving him,’ Tessa said then, in a rush. ‘I’m not going back. I haven’t said anything yet to anyone. I didn’t want to take from the day – but my mind is made up.’
She stopped. She sounded apprehensive, but hopefully there was enough resolve there too. Could she follow through? Would she be able to take this huge step?
‘Sorry,’ she repeated. ‘You’re probably wondering how on earth you got saddled with us.’
‘Not at all.’ Lydia shifted the plate from her lap to the seat, and placed her cup on top. ‘Tessa, I’ve only just met you, and I probably shouldn’t be offering an opinion, but I have to say I really feel you’re doing the right thing now.’
Tessa nodded. ‘I’ve known for a long time what the right thing was, only, like I said, I couldn’t do it.
I kept hoping he’d change, that I could change him, but today .
. .’ She shook her head slowly. ‘You know what really brought it home to me, Lydia? When he texted Stephen to tell him he wasn’t coming.
I’d been trying to get him on the phone but he didn’t answer – I must have tried about ten times, I was frantic – and when he finally decided to let us know, it was Stephen he chose to tell, not me.
I didn’t matter. I was nothing to him. I pictured him looking at his phone, seeing my name coming up and just . . . ignoring it. That was so hurtful.’
Lydia saw no sign of tears now. Her voice was steady, her decision made. She was ready for this, even if it terrified her.
‘So what will you do?’
‘I’ll talk to my sister, ask her if I can stay with her and Robert for a while, until I figure out my next step. Stephen would take me in no problem, but he lives too near his father. I need to get further away.’
‘What about your things?’
‘I’ll get Stephen to call to the house and pack up what he can in the next few days.
There’s no love lost between them,’ she said sadly.
‘Hasn’t been for years.’ She paused, twisting the ring on her wedding finger.
‘I’m not going to answer the phone if he rings me.
I don’t think I can bring myself to block his number, not just yet, but I can ignore him. ’
‘Probably wise. I’m so sorry, Tessa.’
‘Don’t be.’ She flashed Lydia a quick smile. ‘Thank you for letting me say it out loud. And thanks so much for today. I’ll leave you alone now.’
‘Best of luck,’ Lydia said. ‘Do keep in touch. Let me know how you’re doing.’
‘I will,’ she promised – but would she? Lydia watched her as she walked away, back to the wedding merriment. She’d found the determination she needed. Now, like Lydia, she would have to take a new path – one that would hopefully include lots of swimming.
A marriage had begun today, another ended. However you looked at it, two good outcomes.