Mother of the Bride

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘There is. I know I can’t be,’ she said softly, resting her head back down on Maisie’s shoulder. ‘I really can’t. I told him ages ago that I wanted to be a virgin on my wedding night, so if he wanted to sleep with me, he’d have to marry me. And having decided to—well, we don’t want to wait any longer. That’s the only reason for the hurry. Nothing else, I promise.’

  Maisie hugged her tenderly. ‘Wow,’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘That’s novel. I wish I’d had half your sense.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Jenni told her bluntly, ‘or I wouldn’t be here now, would I?’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t change that for anything,’ she said, her hug tightening as she dropped a kiss on her daughter’s hair. ‘I’m just surprised.’

  ‘Maybe all your lectures about respecting myself and being sure about a relationship first have paid off. And I am sure. I’m really, really sure.’

  ‘Good.’

  Jenni sighed contentedly and shifted to look out of the window. ‘He proposed to me up there, in the tower room of the old castle,’ she said, her voice dreamy. ‘It was so romantic. He took me up there, with a blanket and a picnic basket, and it was freezing, but he’d got hot pies from Mrs McCrae, and a flask of coffee, and when we’d eaten he got up, and I thought we were going, and I was actually relieved because it was so cold, but then he pulled me to my feet and went down on one knee and asked me to marry him. And I just burst into tears—isn’t that silly?’

  Maisie hugged her. ‘Not silly at all.’ It was what she would have done, if Rob had taken her up there and proposed to her like that, instead of telling her that they ought to get married when they hardly knew each other.

  ‘I love the view from here, don’t you?’ Jenni murmured, and Maisie debated her answer and then avoided it.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, because that was indisputable. ‘I used to sit here with you for hours when you were a baby, staring out to sea and wondering where your father was.’

  ‘It must have been very odd for you here without him when he went off to the navy. You must have been so lonely without him.’

  ‘I was. I didn’t know anybody, and I didn’t fit in. And I don’t think they liked me.’

  Jenni looked shocked. ‘Why ever not? Did they think you didn’t love him?’

  ‘Oh, I loved him,’ she said softly, ‘but they knew nothing about me. We were so young, and we’d just met, and then what felt like minutes later he was off into the navy and I was pregnant. Classic timing. It was hardly a great start and not exactly what they’d planned for their only son.’

  ‘But you did marry him, and you had me, and you still managed to do your degree. I think that’s amazing.’

  She gave a hollow laugh. ‘Only in stages, and only because the college was very accommodating and let me take a year off in the middle. And I really struggled that first year, while I was pregnant and he was away so much.’

  ‘Why did you move up here?’

  She eased Jenni out of her arms and reached for her tea with a quiet sigh. ‘I’ve often asked myself that. Maybe because I thought I’d get more support from them than I was getting from my own family, and maybe I hoped that if I came to love the castle he was so fond of, then our marriage would stand a chance. It didn’t work like that, though. It was cold and wet, and I was trapped inside the castle with you for days on end. I couldn’t drive then, and there was nowhere to go while he was at sea, and anyway most of the time it seemed to be raining. Then when he did come back he wanted to go out walking on the hills on his own, and I got resentful, and he was withdrawn, and we just stopped talking. Stopped everything, really. If we weren’t talking about you, we didn’t talk. We never spent any time together that wasn’t with you or about you, and most of the time he wasn’t here anyway, so what was the point of me being here with you when I felt so unwanted?

  ‘So I took you back home with me, and he let me go. He didn’t come after me, didn’t ask why—nothing, not for months, and then it was just a letter from the solicitors. I think it was a relief to him. The trouble was, we were both just kids, and we behaved like kids, so it’s no wonder it didn’t work. Anyway, we got divorced as soon as we could, and I vowed never to come back.’

  Jenni’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Mum, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you were that unhappy here. I thought it was just the weather and Dad being away. I mean, I knew you didn’t have much in common, but—it must have been awful. No wonder you left.’

  She tried to smile, but there was a lump in her throat she was having difficulty swallowing, so she just shrugged and drank her tea, and Jenni snuggled into her side again and said nothing for a while.

  ‘We ought to sort out the guest list,’ Maisie said in the end. ‘Have you done anything about it?’

  ‘Sort of. Dad and Grannie need to get together and talk about relatives and things, and you need to tell us who you want on it, but we’ve done ours, and Alec’s asked his best man and ushers and I’ve contacted Libby and Tricia.’

  ‘Is that all you’re having as your bridesmaids?’

  ‘Mmm. They need to come and look at dresses—we can do that in Glasgow one day. And we need to sort out the wedding invitation wording, and get them ordered, and I suppose we need to talk about flowers.’

  ‘Have you had any ideas?’

  ‘Mmm. I want white—just white, with lots of greenery. I think it looks beautiful. Really simple. Maybe white peonies. Apparently they smell gorgeous.’

  ‘Yes, they do. They’re lovely. And in mid-June that’s perfect. What about table centres?’

  ‘I don’t know. Do you think I should have tall vases, or fishbowls, or low posies? There are so many styles and I’m just confused. Can you help me? You go to lots of weddings, you must have tons of ideas.’

  ‘Do you want to look through my portfolio?’ she suggested. ‘I’ve got loads of weddings on there, and it might give you some ideas. In fact, the wedding I did on Wednesday was lovely. They had simple hand-ties for everything, and they looked fabulous. And that was just green and white.’

  She turned on her laptop and brought up the photos of Annette’s daughter’s wedding, and they discussed the flowers, the bridesmaids, the favours, the table settings— everything except Annette. Maisie didn’t want to add any more emotion into the mix, and some things weren’t hers to talk about. She’d only told Rob because she’d ripped his head off when he’d pushed her buttons, and she’d wanted to get them off on a more even keel for this difficult visit.

  Not that the uneasy truce had lasted long, she thought with a weary sigh, flicking through to another wedding, another set of options to consider.

  ‘Oh! Mum, who’s going to take the photos?’ Jenni asked, looking suddenly concerned, but Maisie just hugged her.

  ‘I thought we could ask Jeff. You know, from the paper? He’s only young, but he’s a good photographer and I can brief him thoroughly. Or we can get someone else?’

  ‘No. No, I like Jeff. Oh, that’s pretty,’ she said, her attention distracted by another photograph, and they carried on looking through the file—until Maisie’s stomach rumbled.

  Then she realised what the time was. ‘Jenni, it’s after nine! We ought to get dressed and go downstairs and get your father and grandmother round the table, even if Alec can’t be there.’

  ‘He can. He’s coming in for coffee at ten-thirty, and he’s bringing Dad. And hopefully he’ll stay and talk this time. I can’t believe he walked out like that last night.’

  ‘Oh, I can. It’s his way, Jenni—or at least, his way with me. But I’ll do my best to keep the peace, and hopefully he’ll do the same, and we’ll be able to get through it all in the next couple of days so I can go home for a while. I didn’t even water the garden before I left, I was in such a rush, and I’ve planted up all my pots.’

  ‘I’ll miss you, you know,’ Jenni said softly. ‘I’m really enjoying having you here. It seems right, somehow.’

  Did it? Not to Maisi
e. Not with Rob on a hair trigger and her stomach in knots because she knew she was falling in love with him all over again. But she’d miss her daughter, too. Unbearably.

  ‘You’re going back to uni, don’t forget, so you wouldn’t see me if I was here—and, anyway, I’ll be back,’ she said comfortingly, wondering how she’d cope with repeated visits but knowing she would have to in the future if she wanted to get to know her grandchildren.

  ‘You’d better be back! I’m going to need you here before the wedding, Mum, making sure everything’s in place. I really, really can’t take my eye off the ball at this stage. I have to pass my finals or the last three years will have been wasted.’

  ‘I’ll be here,’ she said firmly. ‘Don’t you worry about it, Jenni. I’ll be here whenever necessary, and I’ll do whatever I need to do to make your wedding day perfect.’

  ‘So, that’s the guest list finished, then? Mum, are you sure that’s all you want to invite?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said, and Rob leant across the table to study the list upside down, and frowned at Maisie.

  ‘Your father’s not on there.’

  She shrugged. ‘He won’t come. He thinks you’re the spawn of the devil and we’re well suited, in his words. There’s no point in asking him, even if he was well enough to come, which he’s not. I’ve tried and tried and tried to build bridges, and he sabotages every attempt I make, so I’ve given up.’

  ‘Jenni? Would it make any difference if you asked him?’

  His daughter shrugged. ‘I never see him, Dad. It doesn’t matter, really. He’s so cold to Mum, and he ignores me whenever we see him at any family functions, and I don’t know him. It’s fine.’

  ‘I still think he should be given the option.’

  ‘OK, I’ll ask him,’ Maisie said shortly, ‘but he won’t come. He probably won’t even reply.’

  ‘And the rest of your family? Your brother and his wife and kids? Will they come?’

  ‘They might. I don’t know. It’s a long way and he’s very busy with school exams at this time of year. He might not be able to get away, but they’re on the list.’

  ‘So how many are there?’

  ‘Not quite a hundred,’ Jenni said, totting up quickly. ‘So I expect by the time some people can’t come because it’s short notice, we’ll be down to ninety or so.

  ‘Which is fine. Alec and I have been looking, and we reckon we can seat a maxiumum of a hundred and twenty in the Great Hall, and it opens onto the side lawn where the marquee will go, so depending on the weather we can eat in or out and the catering tent can be situated so it’s convenient for either. We can make a decision the day before, and we can have the reception drinks out on the gun court if the weather holds.’

  ‘So how many invitations do we need to order?’ Alec asked, making notes.

  ‘Allow plenty in case of errors. And we need to sort out the wording.’ Rob met Maisie’s eyes, knowing he was stepping straight into a minefield here. ‘Any suggestions?’

  ‘Well, Mr and Mrs Robert Mackenzie won’t work,’ she said with heavy irony. ‘How pompous do you want to be?’

  He felt himself frown. ‘Pompous?’

  ‘Yes—you know, “The Much Honoured Robert Mackenzie, Laird of Ardnashiel, and Ms Margaret Douglas request the pleasure of the company of—leave blank—at the marriage of their daughter Jennifer to Mr Alec Cooper in St Andrew’s church, Ardnashiel, on Saturday 19 June at 2 p.m., and afterwards at Ardnashiel Castle. Carriages at Midnight, or whatever. RSVP to…”, blah de blah—or do you think that sounds just a touch stuffy?’

  One eyebrow was slightly raised, her mouth twitching, and her eyes flashed with challenge. Jenni was struggling not to laugh, and he took a slow breath.

  ‘I think we could dispense with the “Much Honoured”, don’t you?’ he said drily, refusing to allow her to needle him. He’d had a fairly pointed lecture from his daughter on the subject already that morning, and the last thing he needed was another one. ‘How about “Robert Mackenzie and Maisie Douglas”—assuming you refuse to use your married name?’

  ‘I do. I’m not married any more. I go by Douglas.’

  ‘So “Robert Mackenzie and Maisie Douglas request the pleasure of your company at the marriage of their daughter Jennifer to Alec Cooper”, et cetera, et cetera. I think that’s pompous enough. What do you two think?’

  ‘How about “Alec and Jenni would love you to join them for their wedding on” blah blah?’ Jenni said, folding her arms and leaning back, her eyes every bit as challenging as her mother’s, and he had to press his lips together to stop himself from laughing.

  ‘Mother?’

  ‘I think your version, Robert. It says enough and not too much. I think you could work “of Ardnashiel” into your name, though. You are the Laird, like it or not, and it’ll be expected.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Maisie. ‘We ought to write it down. I don’t suppose anyone can remember what we said?’

  How much more?

  The guest list was finalised—at last—and they’d done the invitation format and discussed the inserts, such as map, directions and gift list, discussed the wording of the evening invitations, and then a thought occurred to her.

  ‘I suppose the church is free on that day, before we rush ahead and get the invitations printed?’ she murmured, and there was a little nod from Jenni.

  ‘It’s free, I checked this morning. It’s all sorted and booked, subject to him talking to us. Alec, we have to go and see him later, and he’ll read the banns tomorrow. Mum, Dad, you’ll both have to come. I really want you there, and Alec’s parents. You’ll be there, too won’t you, Grannie? You always are.’

  ‘I most certainly will, darling. As you said, I’m always there, every Sunday morning.’

  Polishing her halo, Maisie thought, and then squashed the unkind thought. There was no room for her old resentments, and she had to try and let them go, for everyone’s sake.

  ‘Good. That’s that sorted. Right, what else? Oh—flowers. I was looking at Mum’s photos, and we’ve decided just white with greenery—’

  She was interrupted by a soft gasp from Helen, and Maisie looked at her distressed face and her heart sank. Now what?

  ‘Not green and white—please, Jenni. Something colourful, darling. It’s a wedding.’

  ‘But I don’t want colourful. I want just white.’

  ‘No—!’ And without another word, Helen pushed back her chair and hurried from the room, her hand pressed to her mouth.

  ‘What on earth’s the matter with Grannie?’ Jenni asked, utterly confused. ‘Whatever’s wrong with green and white? It’s not exactly controversial.’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll go and find out,’ Rob said, and followed his mother out of the room. He came back a short time later, and sat down heavily.

  ‘They were the colour of the flowers at my father’s funeral,’ he said softly. ‘I’d forgotten. Can you bear to have something different?’

  Jenni swallowed, shrugged and said, ‘I suppose so. I’ll have to, won’t I? I can’t upset Grannie,’ and then she, too, left the room in tears, followed by Alec.

  Maisie met Rob’s eyes across the table.

  ‘Are you going to burst into tears and rush off?’ he asked, and she gave a low laugh.

  ‘No, I think you’re safe.’

  ‘Thank God for that. Do you fancy a coffee?’

  ‘We’ve just had one.’

  He smiled conspiratorially. ‘No, I mean a real coffee. With a wicked pastry and lots of froth and no overwrought emotions.’

  She regarded him steadily, suppressing the chuckle in her throat. ‘I can’t promise that, but for the sake of the pastry, I’ll give it my best shot.’

  He grinned. ‘That’s my girl,’ he said, and, standing up, he ushered her out of the door and round to the stableyard, grabbing a couple of jackets off the hook by the back door on the way out. He unlocked his car and folded down the roof while she pulled the fleecy jacket on, settled hersel
f in the car and fastened her seat belt, then they set off, while she sat there and listened to his voice saying ‘That’s my girl’ over and over in her head.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘SO, what did you want to talk about?’ she said, once they were seated with their coffee and pastries, and he arched a brow.

  She couldn’t quite hold in the smile. ‘Let me guess— Jenni had a go at you and told you to apologise?’ she asked, and he snorted quietly, his mouth quirking in a reluctant grin.

  ‘Actually, Alec got there first. He had a go at me last night. And Jenni had a go this morning. But for what it’s worth, I was going to apologise anyway. I didn’t mean to walk out like that, but the thought of you bailing out on me and leaving me to cope with the tantrums was more than I could take, and this morning just underlined it all.’

  ‘I’m not bailing out on you,’ she said softly. ‘But I do have things to do, as I told you before. I’ve got to sort the wedding photos for two weddings now, and get the albums ordered, and there’s a rush job for the one I did on Wednesday because until Annette’s had her chemo there are still question marks, so I absolutely can’t let them down, and I’ve still got to do my regular column in the paper as well as other features. I can’t just walk away from my commitments.’

  He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stick up so her fingers itched to reach out and smooth it back down, to touch it, to sift it through her fingertips and see if it still felt as soft, as thick and rich as it had…

  ‘No, I know you can’t. I’m sorry if I implied you weren’t taking the wedding seriously. Of course you’ve got a life down there, and I don’t underestimate the importance of your work. I think you’ve done amazingly well, forging your twin careers while you’ve been bringing Jenni up, and of course you have to honour your commitments. I was just panicking.’

  ‘You, panicking?’ she teased. ‘That doesn’t sound like you.’

  His smile was wry. ‘My daughter’s never had a wedding before.’