The Perfect Marriage

by Debbie Viggiano

  Rosie’s hand froze over her Marmite toast. Something strange was going on here. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘Didn’t this…other person… love you?’

  ‘I never discussed it with her.’

  ‘Why not?’ Rosie whispered.

  Matt gave her an unfathomable look before answering. ‘The timing wasn’t right.’

  And then he disappeared through the doorway, leaving Rosie staring after him.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Matt and Rosie arrived in a warm and sunny Brighton just in time for lunch. While Rosie faffed about getting Luke and a vast baby holdall out of the car, Matt busied himself with sorting out the pushchair. Rosie emerged from the car, Luke in her arms, and strapped him into the buggy. Straightening up, she inhaled deeply.

  ‘Ooh, smell that sea air!’ She closed her eyes, and took a greedy lungful.

  ‘It’s the best. What would you like to do first?’

  Luke immediately began to wail.

  ‘He’s hungry,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Then let’s get some grub. I know a lovely restaurant here that does the best fish and chips. It’s even served on greaseproof paper with fake news all over it!’

  Fifteen minutes later, a waitress was placing two platters in front of them containing the biggest pieces of battered cod Rosie had ever seen.

  ‘Can I get you another glass of wine?’ the waitress asked.

  ‘We’re fine, thanks,’ said Rosie.

  Luke was happier now, having guzzled an entire bottle of milk, and was eagerly holding out his little hands for some chips. Matt blew on one several times, before giving it to Luke.

  ‘Aww. Aren’t you a good daddy,’ the waitress beamed, ‘and what a little smasher!’ She leaned in to Luke and waggled a playful finger. ‘You’re the spitting image of your daddy!’

  Rosie went a bit pink, although Matt didn’t correct the waitress. He just smiled and thanked her for their meals.

  ‘Enjoy,’ she beamed, before turning her attention to another table of patrons.

  For a moment Rosie couldn’t think of a thing to say. She felt faintly embarrassed at the waitress thinking Matt was Luke’s father – especially over the resemblance bit.

  Although…Rosie glanced at Luke…it was fair to say there were similarities in that they had the same hair and eye colouring. Certainly Luke looked nothing like Dave. Rosie wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not. At least she wasn’t reminded of her feckless husband every time she looked at their son.

  Rosie swallowed some fish and cleared her throat. ‘You know, now that Mr Shark has been arrested–’

  ‘Ah, yes, Peter Manchester.’

  ‘Yes, him. Now that he’s under lock and key, there isn’t actually any need for me and Luke to be staying in your apartment.’

  ‘I thought we’d already had this conversation?’

  ‘Yes, we did, but that was before Peter Manchester was caught. I’m just very aware that we’re still taking your hospitality and I don’t want us outstaying our welcome.’

  ‘You’re not. Sell your house, sort out where you’re living next, and above all else don’t rush into anything. Besides,’ Matt blew on a piece of mashed cod for Luke, ‘I like having you both around.’

  Matt’s last sentence was said casually enough, but it still made Rosie’s stomach do a flip-flop. Matt liked having her around! Did that mean that Matt liked her as in liked liked? As in fancied her? Oh, for heaven’s sake, Rosie, what are you like? He’s just a kind man helping out a widow with a little boy. And it’s not just you he likes having around, it’s Luke too! Matt just likes our company. So stop reading hidden messages into innocent conversation. Apart from anything else, you haven’t even buried your husband.

  Rosie stared at her fish, appalled. What sort of cold-hearted woman was she? The sooner she got the funeral over and done with, the sooner she could get on with her life and get out of Matt’s hair.

  ‘Well, I don’t want to take advantage any longer than necessary,’ she mumbled.

  ‘You’re not. Oh, that reminds me, my cousin rang earlier. She has a space at her nursery and, as she owes me a favour, she’s giving you first refusal. You’d better check the nursery out. And if you’re happy with it, you can start work at Tibor’s Tasty Titbits knowing your little lad is in good hands.’

  ‘That is tremendously kind of her.’ Rosie put her knife and fork down. ‘So many people have been so sympathetic and concerned about Luke and me – Karen and Mike…Lucy…the police…and the Illegal Money Lending Team. But ultimately you are the one who has been the most thoughtful. I don’t know what we would have done without you.’ Rosie’s eyes welled. ‘Two weeks ago I didn’t know you and here you are looking out for us as well as looking after us, whereas my own mother hasn’t been in the least bit interested in how I’m coping. She’s shown no compassion whatsoever, not even offering to put up her own daughter and grandson.’

  ‘Don’t dwell on it, Rosie. Some parents are just not that into their kids. I suspect Hester is one of them.’

  ‘But it’s wrong!’ Rosie cried. ‘My goodness, if Luke ever gets married and has children, I want to be a hands-on Granny. I’ll be offering my services for babysitting twenty-four-seven.’

  ‘And probably vying with your daughter-in-law’s mother to do the very same thing,’ Matt laughed.

  Rosie paled. ‘Oh heavens, I never thought of that. Well I’ll just have to insist that my grandchildren have two babysitters.’

  ‘Well said, Ms Perfect. Now eat up your lunch before it gets cold.’

  ‘Yes, but before I do, I just want to say one more thing, Matt.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I absolutely insist you let me pick up the tab for this meal. It’s my way of saying thank you.’

  ‘That’s very sweet of you, but how are you going to pay? With fresh air?’

  ‘I’m getting a cheque for a hundred-thousand-pounds very shortly from Dave’s life insurance. I think, in the interim, my bank overdraft can withstand a meal of fish and chips.’

  Matt put down his knife and fork. ‘That is so very sweet of you, Rosie,’ he reached across the table and took her hand, ‘but the answer is no. However, if you want to make a contribution of ten pence, that would be just fine.’ He gave her hand a squeeze before picking up his knife again.

  Rosie felt momentarily paralysed from Matt’s touch. That was the second time in twenty-four hours his handholding had nearly put her into giddy meltdown. Pull yourself together, Rosie.

  ‘Right,’ she croaked. Picking up her glass, she slung some more wine down her neck. ‘Ten pence it is. For now. I seem to owe you an awful lot of ten pences, what with glaziers, and rent, and meals.’

  Matt winked. ‘We’ll divvy it all up later. Now, let me get that waitress’s attention. Luke and I are almost ready for some ice-cream.’

  After lunch they strolled along the pier, bought a coffee on the go, stuck their heads through funny picture boards for a photo, and checked out the funfair where Matt won a soft toy duck on one of the side stalls. He gave it to Luke, who fell asleep cuddling it.

  ‘Do you like doughnuts?’ Matt asked.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then let’s grab ourselves a deckchair, sit back, relax, and share a bag.’

  ‘I won’t be able to move after all this food,’ Rosie protested.

  ‘Eat, drink, and be merry,’ Matt said, ‘for tomorrow you may die.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Rosie said. She was only too aware how you could be here one minute and gone in the next. Life was fragile, and yet so taken for granted.

  Matt went off to a kiosk that was emitting pleasant smells of sugary cooking, while Rosie found a couple of empty deckchairs. She lowered her bottom onto the stripy material and waited for Matt to return. All around her people were getting on with their lives. Taking time out from their jobs, or possibly just enjoying a late lunch break from the office where they worked. There were plenty of tourists milling about too.
She wondered what went on in all these people’s lives – whether they, like her, currently appeared calm and happy on the outside, but inwardly had been immersed in their own private hells.

  ‘Here,’ Matt dropped a bag of warm doughnuts in her lap before sitting down beside her. ‘Let’s play a game. You have to eat your doughnut without getting any sugar on your lips.’

  Rosie laughed. ‘In that case I’ll lose. There’s so much sugar on them it will probably end up stuck to my cheeks as well as my lips.’

  ‘Have one of these.’ He passed her a paper serviette and then watched as she took an enormous bite. Sure enough, Rosie’s lips were covered in white granules. Matt had an overwhelming urge to lean across and kiss all the sugar off.

  They sat in companionable silence for a while, working their way through the doughnuts.

  ‘Are you familiar with Brighton?’ Rosie eventually asked.

  ‘Pretty much. When I was a kid, my parents had a caravan down here. It was a place they liked to retreat to after a busy week working in London. We’d spend more or less every weekend here from spring to late autumn. I have some very happy memories of my sister and me paddling in the sea, or swimming in the freezing waters of Saltdean Lido.’

  ‘It sounds like a wonderful childhood. Do your parents still have the caravan?’

  ‘No,’ Matt brushed some sugar off his jeans, ‘it was sold when I was about fifteen or sixteen years old. I wanted to hang out with mates in London and pick up girls, not pebbles on the beach. Although,’ he looked wistful, ‘I’d give almost anything to return to those days.’

  ‘I stayed in a caravan once,’ said Rosie. ‘It belonged to Lucy’s parents. They used to tow it up to the Lakes for holidays. One year I was invited along.’

  ‘Did you enjoy the experience?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rosie rubbed her hands together to loosen off sugar crumbs, ‘and I always have a warm glow when I remember that holiday. It was up in the Lakes that I had my first kiss!’

  Matt grinned. ‘Do tell.’

  ‘Lucy and I were both fifteen years old. There was a disco on the camp site and we met a couple of lads. They took us for a snog behind a caravan. And then, coming up for air…as you do…I saw two tiny faces watching us through the caravan window.’

  Matt burst out laughing. ‘Outrageous!’

  ‘Can you remember your first kiss?’

  ‘Yes, but for all the wrong reasons. She was eating chewing gum at the time, and it ended up in my mouth. But that’s not the worst part. I choked on it, and totally killed the moment.’

  Rosie snorted with laughter. ‘Happy days.’

  Matt nodded in agreement. ‘And such innocent days too.’

  They arrived back in Penshurst late afternoon. Rosie was feeling remarkably chilled-out. Clearly a day by the sea was just what the doctor ordered. Of course, it helped enormously when your companion was great company and drop-dead gorgeous.

  Rosie busied herself sorting out Luke’s holdall, soaking empty milk bottles, and then bathing her little son, while Matt rustled up some pasta for them both. They ate dinner companionably all together and then Rosie put Luke to bed. And much later still, whilst curled up in an armchair, Matt poured them both a large nightcap.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Rosie gratefully accepting the brandy balloon. She set about warming it in her hands.

  Matt bypassed an armchair, instead opting to sit down beside her. ‘Did you enjoy today?’

  ‘Very much and, once again, thank you.’ Rosie nodded, and took a sip of the fire water. ‘Luke and I really appreciated you taking the day off work and spending it in Brighton with us. It was perfect.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, Ms Perfect.’ Matt inclined his head and raised his glass to her. They let the balloons gently clink together. Swilling the liquid around the glass, he looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I won’t be around for the next couple of days.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I have to be up and out early tomorrow morning. I have some meetings scheduled in Leeds and Manchester, but I’ll be back in time for the funeral.’

  ‘You don’t have to trouble yourself with that. I’m a big girl after all.’

  ‘I know, but I’d like to support you. I think the day might be more difficult than you realise.’

  ‘You do appreciate that when my mother sees you, she will eat you alive.’

  ‘And I’m a big boy. I can look after myself, no worries.’ Matt took a sip of his brandy. ‘It was nice to see you looking so carefree today, Rosie.’ He reclined against the sofa and stretched an arm along its back.

  ‘It was brilliant. For a little while I forgot all about the upset and terror of the last few days.’ Rosie was very aware that Matt’s hand was within touching distance of her neck. For a moment her concentration fragmented. What was Matt now saying?’

  ‘…was hoping for. We’ll have to do it again – if only for those scrumptious fish and chips!’

  ‘Mmm. That meal was delicious.’ Rosie swilled her brandy, appearing to choose her words carefully. ‘Sorry about the waitress mistaking you for being Luke’s Dad. I hope it didn’t make you feel awkward.’

  ‘Not at all. I quite liked it as it happens. It’s good practice for when I become a dad one day.’

  Rosie looked surprised. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really! Why do you look so astonished?’

  ‘No reason, as such. I suppose it’s because you don’t really look…dadsy.’

  ‘Dadsy? What sort of a word is that!’ Matt shifted on the sofa, his body turning in towards Rosie.

  ‘You know…old faded cord trousers and a bobbly sweater,’ Rosie grinned. ‘You’re usually suited and booted or,’ she waved a hand at Matt’s designer jeans and casual shirt that had once sported a not-so-casual price tag, ‘looking like you’re a male model.’

  Matt threw back his head and laughed. ‘What…these old things?’ he mocked. ‘I promise that when the time comes I’ll make sure my wardrobe contains faded cord trousers and bobbly sweaters. ’ Matt took another sip of brandy and then gave Rosie a considering look. ‘Did you ever plan on having more kids with Dave?’

  Rosie gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Good heavens, no. You saw what he was like. Dave didn’t know Luke’s top from his tail. And anyway, even if I had wanted more children, it would have been impossible. That side of our marriage had long since ceased.’

  ‘You stopped having sex?’

  Rosie blushed. How had the conversation gone from talking about Brighton to her non-existent sex life? She looked at Matt, but didn’t immediately answer. Was it her imagination, or was he sitting a bit closer?

  ‘Um, yes. Nothing went on in that department.’

  ‘Mind telling me why?’

  Rosie stared at her brandy. ‘I didn’t love him. And for me, love and sex go hand in hand.’

  ‘Fair answer. And what about Dave? Didn’t he mind? After all, most blokes would be…well…a tad put out.’

  ‘Luke was a honeymoon baby. And to be honest it’s quite a feat that he was conceived at all, because Dave spent more time drinking the bar dry than…you know. The ink had barely dried on our marriage certificate when I realised I’d made a monumental mistake. And Dave never really felt passionate about me. I think he only married because he wanted someone to look after him. He wanted a mother, not a wife.’

  ‘So why did you marry him?’ And then Matt caught the expression on Rosie’s face. ‘Oh, no. Don’t tell me. Your mother? You cannot be serious!’

  Rosie didn’t know if it was the amount of brandy she’d consumed, or whether it was just a release of emotions after everything that had been going on in her life recently, but suddenly her face crumpled. Matt whipped away their brandy balloons, and his arms were around her in a trice.

  ‘Whoa! Don’t cry, Rosie, please don’t cry.’ He hugged her tight. ‘I’m so sorry. This is my fault for asking such personal questions. Please, just ignore me.’

  ‘N-no, it’s okay. I’m crying more from shame
and embarrassment than anything else.’

  ‘You have nothing to be ashamed of.’

  Rosie gave a shaky laugh. ‘You don’t think? What adult woman doesn’t take responsibility on deciding who she is or isn’t going to marry! I only married Dave to please my mother. He wasn’t so bad when we were dating – a courtship that lasted all of five minutes, so I never truly got to know him. And I married him because it was a boost to my self-esteem after my previous boyfriend – who I was crazy about – had a fling with my best friend.’

  ‘Lucy?’ Matt asked, shocked.

  ‘No!’ Rosie gave a rueful smile. ‘An ex best friend.’

  ‘Ah!’

  ‘I just panicked, heard the biological clock ticking, saw the date on my best before label, and thought, “Why not marry Dave? He seems kind. He says he has good prospects and your mother is chomping at the bit to buy a wedding suit. He’ll do.” What an irresponsible and immature attitude.’

  ‘You aren’t the first to do such a thing, and you won’t be the last. It’s called rebound.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right.’

  She was acutely aware of the glorious proximity of Matt’s body. His arms were still around her, and it felt so right. She looked up at him, suddenly solemn. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite work out. She gazed at him, and tried to read his face. It was serious, but also caring. But it was his eyes that had her mesmerised. They looked so…tender. Yes, that was it, his eyes looked almost as if they were full of…love light. They sat there, frozen in a moment, just staring at each other, and not saying anything. Was it her imagination, or was Matt’s mouth getting closer to hers? Rosie had a horrible urge to launch herself at him and get down to some serious lip locking. And then Matt’s last word echoed around her head. Rebound. Christ! That was the last thing she needed. Apart from anything else, Rosie realised it was her moving in to him, not the other way around. She leapt up, flustered, knocking over the balloons that Matt had placed at their feet. Dribbles of brandy blobbed onto the floor.