More Than You Know (38 page)

She saw her mother stiffen, watched her face freeze.

“What’s that, then?” asked her father.

“Well … two things, actually. But they are … linked. Matt and I are going to get married.”

“Married!” Sarah’s voice rose; the distaste in it was undisguisable.

“Yes, Mummy, married.”

“Well … isn’t that rather … rather soon?”

“Not really. And we’re very sure about it. We’ve known each other quite a long time.”

“Eliza … please …”

“Please what, Mummy?”

“Don’t … don’t rush into this. There’s no need to get married, surely; you could just live together and … and make sure … and—”

“Mrs. Fullerton-Clark,” said Matt, and there was a hint of menace in his voice, “we are sure. I love Eliza very much and I want to marry her.”

“And”—Eliza took a deep breath—“as well as being sure, there is a … another reason for it. For getting married. I’m … well, I’m going to have a baby.”

“Well … I just don’t know what to say.” Sarah sat down suddenly at the kitchen table; she was very pale.

“What about … congratulations?” said Eliza, her voice icy now.

“Yes. Come along, Sarah.” It was Adrian, clearly making a huge effort. “Congratulations. It’s very exciting. Well done.”

He held out his hand to Matt, who took it rather bemusedly.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No,” said Sarah, “no, it isn’t exciting. It’s rather the reverse, I would say. I can’t pretend I think anything else. I’m sorry. I’m … I’m just going upstairs for a bit.”

“I think we should go,” said Matt, quite quietly.

Half an hour away from the house, he pulled over to the side of the road and looked at Eliza.

“Well?”

“Oh, Matt. I’m sorry. You were awfully good. Staying polite.”

“It was a bit weird,” he said, “being regarded as a blight on your young life.”

“It wasn’t that bad, Matt.”

“Yes, it was. It was exactly that bad.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m sure they’ll get over it. I suppose … I suppose it was an awful shock. Me being pregnant and everything. Look, they will come round. I know they will. Especially when the baby’s arrived.”

“Matter of fact,” he said, “I’m not sure I want them to. And I don’t want them coming to the wedding. I really don’t. Even if they begged me.”

“Oh, Matt, please! Let’s not get into all that. A family feud. Please, Matt. Just for me. Me and the baby.”

“Well … I’ll see. Not saying any more than that. Anyway, something tells me they won’t even consider coming.”

He was horribly hurt. She felt very hurt herself, and shocked and embarrassed at her parents’ behaviour—well, her mother’s. She thought she had never loved her father more than when he had held out his shaky hand to Matt.

“Give them time,” she said again. “And I love you; that’s what matters.”

Charles called to say that he and Juliet would be at the wedding. “That’s really lovely, Charles. Thank you.”

He also made a rather stiff phone call to Matt, congratulating him and with a feeble attempt at humour saying he was mad, he had no idea what he was taking on.

Matt’s family were all delighted; his mother especially so.

His young brothers were both slightly embarrassed; they said she was much too good for Matt, and then disappeared up to their rooms.

Scarlett’s reaction was the most unexpected. She embraced them both, told Eliza she couldn’t be more pleased. “But you will have to keep
him in order, you know, not let him run rings round you.” But she was clearly also rather upset by something, and suddenly announced in the middle of lunch that she was sorry, she had a bad headache and she was going to lie down for ten minutes if nobody minded.

When she came down again, looking flushed and rather bright eyed, she hugged Eliza, said she was sorry, she’d had a dreadful week’s heavy-duty flying, and that she was absolutely delighted to have her as a sister-in-law.

Sarah was trying very hard to be positive about Matt. She felt outraged that her daughter should be throwing away all the work and all the money she and Adrian had invested in her. “Just for a bit of foolish romanticism. That’s all it is. She could have had a golden future with someone of her own sort, and here she is, slumming it with this person.”

She was increasingly worried about the house; they simply couldn’t afford to heat much of it, and it was still cold. She had converted the morning room into a sort of bed-sitting room, with two comfortable chairs and the television, a small table, and a bed for Adrian to use when she was unable to get him upstairs. She would then go up alone to her bedroom and quite often lie awake for hours, worrying what on earth would become of them.

Charles increasingly urged her to talk to the trustees about breaking the trust and moving into something smaller; she would have hoped he would be more helpful and positive. Summercourt should, after all, become his one day; didn’t he want that, she asked him, almost exasperated, at the end of a long Sunday when they had talked endlessly about it and surveyed the increasing ravages of neglect.

“Mummy, I have to be realistic,” he said, looking slightly hunted. “I don’t have any money; you know I don’t. I don’t earn a lot; Juliet wants to move into something better than a flat in Chiswick—”

“Which I presume Summercourt isn’t?” said Sarah coldly.

“We can’t come and live down here. I have my job, she has hers, and she would like to think about starting a family—”

“Which should have Summercourt as its home. Charles, I don’t understand you; you don’t seem to have any sense of Summercourt’s place in your life.”

“Mummy, its place in my life feels like an immense drain. Look, please try to understand. I’m sorry, and of course I love it, and I’ll be sad to see it go, but it’s simply making life harder for all of us, particularly you. We have to move with the times, and face facts.”

Sarah wondered how much of this speech had originally come from Juliet.

In the event, her parents didn’t come to the wedding. Two days before, Sarah rang to say that Adrian had had a couple of falls and was very badly bruised and with a possibly broken wrist. “He simply isn’t well enough to come, and I don’t feel I can leave him.”

Eliza was so hurt and angry she could hardly speak.

“Mummy, it’s my wedding day. Surely someone could look after Daddy?”

“No, Eliza, I’m afraid not. I understand Charles and Juliet are coming; they can represent us all.”

Eliza thought of the loving family she had grown up in and wondered for the hundredth time whether they really cared about her at all.

Not even the Marchants could come; they were away visiting relatives in Washington.

“But thrilled to hear about the baby,” Anna wrote, “and as soon as I get back, we must celebrate, the four of us. Enjoy being pregnant, darling; I never managed it, as you know.”

Eliza was rather sadly trying on her shoes the night before, and trying to decide whether to wear white tights or cream ones, when the phone rang.

“Darling? It’s Daddy.”

“Oh … Daddy. How lovely to hear your voice; you’re all right, are you?”

“As all right as I’ll ever be again.”

“Oh, Daddy. I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well, this call isn’t about me. It’s about you. Listen, sweetheart, you have a lovely day tomorrow, and I would give anything, anything, to be able to be there and walk you down the aisle. Who’s going to do that for you, Charles?”

“Um … yes,” she said quickly, unable to face explaining that there wasn’t any aisle.

Charles had actually offered to “escort her” into the room, and she had accepted gratefully. It would be at least someone of her own.

“Good, good. Well, make sure there are lots of photographs.”

“I will, Daddy.” She smiled into the phone.

“And don’t worry about your mother. She’ll come round. I like your young man; I think he’s rather interesting and obviously going far. Take care of yourself, darling, and God bless. I love you.”

She took those words into the room with her the next day.

She took other things too: a sense of absolute happiness, and of rightness, and a heart so overflowing with love that when she looked at Matt, smiling at her rather tensely, it was all she could do not to rush into his arms there and then before any more of the ceremony took place.

The lunch at the Arethusa was great fun; Louise, who proclaimed herself honorary best man, made a very funny speech full of affection; Charles made a very touching one, saying how much he loved his sister and how he had always regarded her as his best friend—Juliet’s smile at this point became slightly strained—and Pete got very carried away and made a completely unexpected, unrehearsed speech, saying what a lovely girl Eliza was and how proud he was to have her in the family. At which point even Matt was seen to look distinctly moist eyed. And when Matt himself stood up and declared that he simply couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be marrying a girl who was “so completely special and who I love so completely much, nothing more to be said really,” Eliza burst into tears and sobbed for at least a minute on a slightly bemused Pete’s shoulder. It wasn’t a conventional wedding, and nor was it large or lavish; but it was, in the end, an extraordinarily happy one.

He kept reading it, thinking it would seem better as he got used to it. It didn’t.

Dear Mr. Fullerton-Clark
,

I felt I should bring it to your attention that your current account is now overdrawn £2,500. This is, as I am sure you must be aware, a very large sum, and goes far beyond the £500 limit we initially agreed, and
even the temporary extension to £1,000 which you assured me would be settled within thirty days. Please make arrangements to come and see me as soon as possible to discuss repayments, and in the meantime I regret I shall have no alternative but to return any cheques written on your account. As it is a joint account please inform Mrs. Fullerton-Clark of this also
.

Yours sincerely
,

John Winston