Authors: Madeleine Wickham
With every step she was further into anonymity; further away from the shocked faces of her family.
Her whole body still prickled with anger. She felt betrayed, misrepresented, too furious with Milly to speak . . . and yet too sorry for her to blame her. She'd never witnessed such an ugly family scene, with Milly defenceless in the middle of it. No wonder she'd lashed out with the first diversionary tactic she had to hand. It was understandable. But that didn't make it any easier.
Isobel closed her eyes. She felt raw and vulnerable; unready for this. On her return, her parents would surely expect her to talk to them. They would expect her to answer questions, to reassure them and help them digest this piece of startling information. But she had barely digested it herself. Her condition was a nebulous fact floating around her mind, unwanted and unformed, as yet unpresentable to the outside world. She couldn't articulate what she thought about it; could no longer distingiush between emotional and physical sensation. Energy and optimism alternated with tearfulness and the nausea made everything even worse. What does it feel like? Milly would no doubt ask. What does it feel like, to have a child inside you? But Isobel didn't want to answer that. She didn't want to think of herself as carrying a child.
She stopped at a corner and cautiously laid her hand over her stomach. When she imagined whatever was inside her, it was as a small shellfish, or a snail. Something coiled up and hardly human.
Something indeterminate, whose life had not begun. Whose life might, if she chose, progress no further. A wave of strong feeling, half grief, half sickness, swept over her, and she began to tremble.
The whole family, she thought, is concerned with whether Milly's wedding should go ahead or not.
While I, all alone, am trying to decide whether another human's life should go ahead or not.
The thought transfixed her. She felt almost overcome by her burden, overwhelmed by the decision she was going to have to make, and for a moment she thought she might collapse, sobbing, on the hard pavement. But instead, with a slight impatient shake of the head, she thrust her hands deeper into her pockets and, teeth gritted, began once more to walk.
Simon and Milly sat, facing each other on armchairs in the drawing room, as though appearing on a television chat show.
`So,' said Simon finally. `What is all this?'
Milly gazed at him silently. Her fingers shook as she pushed a frond of hair back from her face; her lips opened to speak, then closed again.
`You're making me nervous,' said Simon. `Come on, sweetheart. Nothing's that bad. It's not life-threatening, is it?'
`No.'
`Well then.' He grinned at her, and Milly smiled back, feeling a sudden relief.
`You won't like it,' she said.
Ì'll be brave,' said Simon. `Come on, hit me with it.'
'OK,' said Milly. She took a deep breath. `The thing is, we can't get married on Saturday. We're going to have to postpone the wedding.'
`Postpone?' said Simon slowly. `Well, OK. But why?'
`There's something I haven't told you,' said Milly, meshing her hands together, twisting them around until her knuckles felt as though they might break. Ì did something very stupid when I was eighteen. I got married. It was a fake marriage. It didn't mean anything. But the divorce never went through. So I'm I'm still married.'
She glanced at Simon. He looked bewildered but not angry, and she felt a sudden flood of reassurance.
After her mother's hysterics, it was a relief to see Simon taking the news calmly. He wasn't freaking out; he wasn't yelling. But of course he wasn't. After all, this was nothing to do with their relationship, was it? This was nothing but a technical hitch.
Àll it means is, I'll have to wait for the decree absolute before we can get married,' she said. She bit her lip. `Simon, I'm really sorry.
There was a long silence.
Ì don't get it,' said Simon eventually. Ìs this a joke?'
`No,' said Milly. `No! God, I wish it was! It's true. I'm married. Simon, I'm married!'
She gazed at him miserably. His dark eyes scanned her face; slowly a look of disbelief crept over his features.
`You're serious.'
`Yes.'
`You're really married.'
`Yes. But it wasn't a proper marriage,' said Milly quickly. She stared down at the floor, trying to keep her voice steady. `He was gay. The whole thing was fake. To keep him in the country. It honestly meant nothing. Less than nothing! You do understand, don't you? You do understand?'
She looked up at his face. And as she saw his expression she realized, with a thud of dismay, that he didn't.
Ìt was a mistake,' she said, almost tripping over the words in her haste. À big mistake. I see that now. I should never have agreed to do it. But I was very young, and very stupid, and he was a friend. Or at least I thought he was a friend. And he needed my help. That's all it was!'
`That's all it was,' echoed Simon in a strange voice. `So, what, did this guy pay you?'
`No!' said Milly. Ì just did it as a favour!'
`You got married . . . as a favour?' said Simon incredulously. Milly stared at him in alarm. Somehow this was coming out all wrong.
Ìt meant nothing,' she said. Ìt was ten years ago! I was a child. I know I should have told you about it before. I know I should. But I just . . .' She broke off and looked at him desperately. `Simon, say something!'
`What am I supposed to say?' said Simon. `Congratulations?' Milly winced.
`No! just -I don't know. Tell me what you're thinking.'
Ì don't know what to think,' said Simon. Ì don't even know where to start. I can't believe it. You tell me you're married to some other guy. What am I supposed to think?' His glance fell on her left hand; on the finger wearing his engagement ring, and she flushed.
Ìt didn't mean anything,' she said. `You have to believe that.'
Ìt doesn't matter what it meant! You're still married, aren't you?' Simon suddenly leapt up and stalked away to the window. `Christ, Milly!' he exclaimed, his voice shaking slightly. `Why didn't you tell me?'
Ì don't know. I didn't . . .' She swallowed. Ì didn't want to spoil everything.'
`You didn't want to spoil everything,' echoed Simon. `So you leave it until two days before our wedding to tell me you're married.'
Ì thought it wouldn't matter! I thought-'
`You thought you wouldn't bother to tell me at all?' He turned round and gazed at her in sudden comprehension. `You were never going to tell me! Am I right?'
Ì didn't '
`You were going to keep it a secret from me!' His voice rose. `From your own husband!'
`No! I was intending to tell you!'
`When? On our wedding night? When our first child was born? On our golden anniversary?'
Milly opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She felt a hot fear creeping over her. She had never seen Simon angry like this before. She didn't know how to defuse him; which way to move.
`So, what other little secrets are you keeping from me? Any hidden children? Secret lovers?'
`No.'
Ànd how am I supposed to believe that?' His voice lashed across the room, and Milly flinched. `How am I supposed to believe anything you say any more?'
Ì don't know,' said Milly hopelessly. Ì don't know. You just have to trust me.'
`Trust you!'
Ì know I should have told you,' she said desperately. Ì know that! But the fact that I didn't doesn't mean I'm keeping anything else secret from you. Simon '
Ìt's not just that,' said Simon, cutting across her. Ìt's not just the fact you kept it secret.' Milly's heart began to thump nervously.
`What is it, then?'
Simon sank into a chair and rubbed his face.
`Milly you've already made the wedding vows to someone else. You've already promised to love someone else. Cherish someone else. Do you know what that feels like for me?'
`But I didn't mean a word of it! Not a word!'
Èxactly.' His voice chilled her. Ì thought you took those vows as seriously as I did.'
Ì did,' said Milly in horror. Ì do.'
`How can you? You've spoiled them! You've tainted them.'
`Simon, don't look at me like that,' whispered Milly. Ì'm not evil! I made a mistake, but I'm still me.
Nothing's changed!'
Èverything's changed,' said Simon flatly. There was a heavy silence. `To be honest, I feel as if I don't know you any more.'
`Well, I feel as if I don't know you any more!' cried Milly in a sudden anguished burst. Ì don't know you any more! Simon, I know I've messed the wedding up. I know I've fucked things up completely.
But you don't have to be so sanctimonious. You don't have to look at me as if I'm beneath contempt. I'm not a criminal!' She gulped. `Well, maybe I am, technically. But only because I made a mistake. I made one mistake! And if you loved me, you'd forgive me!' She began to shake with sobs. Ìf you really loved me, you would forgive me!'
Ànd if you really loved me,' shouted Simon, suddenly looking distraught, `you would have told me you were married! You can say what you like, Milly, but if you'd really loved me, you would have told me!'
Milly stared at him, suddenly feeling unsure of herself.
`Not necessarily,' she faltered.
`Well, we must have different definitions of love,' said Simon. `Perhaps we've been at cross purposes all along.' He stood up and reached for his coat. Milly stared at him, feeling a horrified disbelief creep over her.
Àre you saying' she fought a desire to retch àre you saying you don't want to marry me any more?'
Às I recall,' said Simon stiffly, `you've already got a husband. So the question's academic really, isn't it?' He paused at the door. Ì hope the two of you will be very happy.'
`Bastard!' screamed Milly. Tears blurred her eyes as she tugged feverishly at her engagement ring. By the time she managed to throw it at him, the door was closed and he was gone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ISOBEL ARRIVED to find the house quiet. The lights in the hall were dim; there was no one in the drawing room. She pushed open the kitchen door and saw Olivia sitting at the table in the half -light. A bottle of wine was in front of her, nearly empty; music was playing quietly in the corner. As Olivia heard the sound of the door she looked up with a pale, puffy face.
`Well,' she said flatly. Ìt's all over.'
`What do you mean?' said Isobel suspiciously.
Ì mean,' said Olivia, `that the engagement between Milly and Simon is off.'
`What?' said Isobel. She blinked at her mother, aghast. `Do you mean off completely? Why?'
`They had some sort of row and Simon called the whole thing off.' Olivia took a slug of wine.
`What about? Her first marriage?'
Ì imagine so,' said Olivia. `She wouldn't say.'
`Where is she?'
`She's gone to Esme's for the night. She said she had to get away from this house. From all of us.'
Ì don't blame her,' said Isobel. She sat heavily down on a chair, her coat still on. `God, poor Milly. I can't believe it! What exactly did Simon say?'
`Milly didn't tell me. She doesn't tell me anything these days.' Olivia took a deep swig of wine.
Òbviously, I'm no longer considered worthy of her confidence.'
Isobel rolled her eyes.
`Mummy, don't start.'
`For ten years she was married to that-that illegal immigrant! Ten years without telling me!'
`She couldn't tell you. How on earth could she tell you?'
Ànd then, when she was in trouble, she went to Esme.' Olivia raised bloodshot eyes to Isobel. `To Esme Ormerod!'
`She always goes to Esme,' said Isobel.
Ì know she does. She goes running off to that house and comes back thinking she's the Queen of Sheba!'
'Mummy-'
Ànd then she went to you.' Olivia's voice grew higher. `Didn't it ever occur to her to come to me? Her own mother?'
`She couldn't!' exclaimed Isobel. `She knew how you would react. And, frankly, she didn't need that.
She needed calm, rational advice.'
Ì'm incapable of being rational, am I?'
`When it comes to this wedding,' said Isobel, `then yes. Yes, you are!'
`Well, there isn't going to be a wedding now,' said Olivia jerkily. `There isn't going to be a wedding. So perhaps you'll all start to trust me again. Perhaps you'll start to treat me like a human being.'
Òh, Mummy, stop feeling sorry for yourself!' shouted Isobel, suddenly exasperated. `This wasn't your wedding. It was Milly's wedding!'
Ì know that!' said Olivia indignantly.
`You don't,' said Isobel. `You're not really thinking about Milly and Simon. You're not thinking about how they must be feeling. You don't even really care if they stay together or not. All you're thinking about is the wedding. The flowers that will have to be cancelled, and your lovely smart outfit that no one will see, and how you won't get to dance with Harry Pinnacle! Beyond that, you couldn't give a damn!'
`How dare you!' exclaimed Olivia, and two bright spots appeared on her cheeks.
Ìt's true though, isn't it? No wonder Daddy-'
`No wonder Daddy what?' snapped Olivia.
`Nothing,' said Isobel, aware she had stepped over a boundary. Ì just . . . I can see his point of view.
That's all.'
There was a long silence. Isobel blinked a few times in the dim kitchen light. She suddenly felt drained, too tired for argument; too tired even to stand up.
`Right,' she said with an effort. `Well, I think I'll go to bed.'
`Wait,' said Olivia, looking up. `You haven't eaten anything.'
Ìt's all right,' said Isobel. Ì'm not hungry.'
`That's not the point,' said Olivia. `You need to eat.'
Isobel gave a noncommittal shrug.
`You need to eat,' repeated Olivia. She met Isobel's eyes. Ìn your condition.'
`Mummy not now,' said Isobel wearily.
`We don't have to talk about it,' said Olivia in a voice tinged with hurt. `You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. You can keep all the secrets you like.' Isobel looked away uncomfortably.
`Just let me make you some nice scrambled eggs.'