Much Ado About Sweet Nothing

by Alison May

  Claudio looks surprised. ‘You always said you wanted to start a family as soon as you were married.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yeah. We talked about it on e-mail, when I was in Naples before.’

  I don’t want to make him cross. The thought of making him unhappy makes my throat constrict, so I need to be very careful what I say next. ‘It’s just that we’ve not had that much time together. Maybe it would be better if it was just us for a while before we think about having a family.’

  He looks confused. ‘But we know everything about each other already. Last year when we were e-mailing I told you stuff I’ve never told anyone. Seriously, no one knows me better than you.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And I know you. I know that you want a big family. I know that your first single was S Club 7.’

  He pulls a face as he says that. ‘I know that you loved working with children at the library, so I know you’ll be a brilliant mum. I even know that you can’t relax if there’s dirt behind the toaster.’

  ‘I never told you that.’

  ‘It’s kind of obvious. You’re the only woman I’ve ever been out with who gets up in the night to wipe her surfaces.’

  ‘I thought you were asleep.’

  ‘I know.’

  My sense of nausea is starting to subside. Maybe it will be OK. He’s right. We know all sorts of facts about each other. Probably I just have pre-‘moving to another country with man who jilted you at the altar less than twelve weeks ago’ jitters. It’s probably very common. I just need to concentrate harder on making sure everything is right.

  Claudio still has his arm clamped around me. ‘So you are excited?’

  I nod.

  Claudio continues. ‘And you’d tell me if you were having second thoughts?’

  I nod again. Of course, I wouldn’t tell him though. That would just make him unhappy. Why would I do that?

  ‘OK.’ Claudio wriggles his arm free and points at the departures sign. ‘They’re boarding our flight.’

  He stands up and turns back towards me. ‘Shall we?’

  I take his hand and let him lead me to the gate.

  It’s busy at the boarding gate. There are a lot of families. School holidays start next week, and it looks like a lot of parents have decided to make the most of this week’s cheaper prices. It’s hot and noisy. I stay close to Claudio in the queue, and try not to get in anyone’s way.

  We’re about seven people from the front of the boarding queue when he turns to me. ‘You wouldn’t though, would you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You wouldn’t tell me if you were having second thoughts.’

  ‘Of course I would.’

  Claudio stops dead still. ‘No. You wouldn’t.’

  People behind us are starting to look, wondering why Claudio is holding the queue up. I pull on his hand. ‘Come on. People are looking.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Claudio puts both his hands on my shoulders. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What for?’

  He closes his eyes. ‘I don’t think you should come with me.’

  People are definitely watching now. I lean towards Claudio and whisper. ‘You can’t do this again.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘Like … like…’ I can’t even say it.

  ‘This isn’t like the wedding.’

  ‘Yes. It is.’ And it is. He’s leaving me again. I’ve messed it up. I tried so hard to be perfect but I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t excited enough. I wasn’t enthusiastic enough about having children. ‘I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?’

  Claudio seems to realise that people are watching. He pulls me out of the queue and gestures to the people behind us to go in front. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s me.’

  I don’t understand what he’s saying at all, but he continues. ‘It’s me. I’m doing something I should have done before.’

  ‘You don’t want me to come?’

  ‘I do. Of course I do. I want you with me, but it’s not just about what I want, is it?’

  Of course it’s about what he wants. ‘I just want to make you happy.’

  ‘And I won’t be happy if you’re not.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I want you to come with me. I want to marry you. I want to have children with you. But, I can’t just decide that, can I?’

  Why can’t he just decide? I thought he had decided.

  Claudio leans down and kisses me on the lips. ‘I love you. But I have to do this.’

  He takes his hands away from my body and looks at me. ‘I’m going to board the plane now. If you want to come too, I’ll be sitting on there waiting for you, but if you decide not to, I’ll understand.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I realised, I never really gave you a choice, did I?’

  I’m still telling myself that I don’t know what he means, but the sick feeling has come right back, and I don’t know whether I can ignore it any more. I just look at the floor and wait for something to happen.

  ‘I suppose I knew you’d do what you thought would make me happy.’ His voice is shaking, like he might be going to cry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to make it better. He carries on. ‘And I didn’t think about what would make you happy, so I’m doing that now. I’m sorry I left it so late. It’s up to you, Henri. It’s your choice.’

  He walks past me and joins the back of the dwindling queue. He doesn’t turn back. He doesn’t look at me. I sit down on another hard plastic chair and watch him. I think about ringing Dad or Trix and asking them what I should do, but somehow I think that isn’t what Claudio would want. Then I wonder whether worrying about what Claudio would want is what he would want either. However I do it though, he’s expecting me to make a choice.

  I sit and watch the queue go down. Claudio doesn’t look at me at all until he’s actually going through the doors on to the plane. Then he just throws me a little smile before he disappears.

  There are only a couple of people left in the queue now. I close my eyes. What would make me happy I think would be if we’d got married when we were supposed to, and then if Claudio had wanted to stay here in England with me. That doesn’t seem to be one of the choices though.

  I picture Claudio standing at the altar before everything changed. If I’d married him then, would everything have been OK? Or would it just have been the same, but we’d have taken a lot longer to notice? Because Dad was right. You do have to be brave to follow your heart, rather than following someone else’s.

  A woman from the airline touches me on the arm. ‘Sorry Miss. But you have to board now.’

  I shake my head. She smiles. ‘Nervous flyer? Don’t worry. There’s really nothing to be scared of. Did your boyfriend already get on the plane?’

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Sorry. Shouldn’t assume! You do really need to board now though.’

  And I know what I have to do. Because he never actually said sorry for the wedding. Because I’m tired from trying so hard to make things perfect. Because, despite the fact that he loves me enough to give me the choice, him loving me isn’t enough. Because there’s a choice where we do what he wants, and a choice where just he does what he wants, but no choice where we do what I want.

  What I have to do is shake my head, and then stand up and walk away without looking back. I turn to the woman, hand her my boarding pass, shake my head. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t be getting on the plane.’

  And I stand up ready for my dignified walk off into the distance, but apparently it’s not that straightforward. Apparently, if you’ve already checked your baggage, you can’t leave the airport until it’s been removed from the plane and searched, and apparently the plane can’t take off until the baggage has been removed and sniffer dogs have done another check of the hold.

  So it doesn’t end with me walking wistfully out of the terminal, and him being flown off into the sunset. It ends with me sitting in a security interview room, a
nd him sitting strapped into a hot plane on the tarmac waiting for a new take-off window. We never had our perfect wedding, and now we don’t get our perfect end.

  Epilogue

  Henrietta

  Three months later

  ‘Are you ready?’

  Danny’s shouting up to me from downstairs. I check the wall clock that Trix bought me as a room warming present, and walk out of the freshly-painted boudoir I now rent in Danny’s house. I lean over the banister.

  ‘We’ve got plenty of time. But we can go now if you want. I don’t mind.’ I’m babbling. I can hear myself doing it.

  Danny is leaning on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He shakes his head. ‘I just thought we could go for a drink before we meet the love birds.’

  ‘All right. I just need to get my shoes.’ I gesture back towards my room. ‘Where do you want to go?’

  He shrugs, very very casually. ‘The Graduate maybe. It’s near the curry house.’

  Now I understand. ‘Trix thinks the bar manager in there likes you.’

  Another shrug, but he can’t keep it up, and his face breaks into a suddenly unguarded smile. ‘What did she say?’

  I shake my head. Was what Trix told me a secret? Would she be cross if I told Danny? I take one of my deep breaths. Trix won’t mind, and even if she does, she’ll forgive me. It’s OK. Everything is OK.

  ‘She just said you always get served first in there.’

  Danny looks sheepish. ‘I went out with him once.’

  This is new information. This might even be gossip that Trix doesn’t know. ‘When? What happened?’ I run down the stairs so I can interrogate him properly.

  ‘About a year ago.’ He pulls a face. ‘The time before the time before I last split up with John.’

  We both make an exaggerated cough-spit motion at the mention of his name.

  ‘And what happened?’

  He looks at the floor. ‘We went out once. It was great. He was lovely. We went back to his place and I basically freaked out and did a runner. Three days later John came back and that was that.’

  ‘And you still like him?’

  He nods. ‘It might be too soon, but yeah. I think so.’ He stands up straight, seemingly shaking the melancholy away as he does. ‘And faint heart never won fair barman!’

  ‘I’d better get my shoes then.’ I run back up the stairs and into my room. As I sit down I notice the feeling in my tummy, the absence of feeling in my tummy. It’s not empty or anxious. It’s normal. I think I like it.

  Shoes on. I lean over to switch off my laptop and notice the ‘New Mail’ symbol. I click on my email and there is it.

  You have one new mail.

  From: Claudio Messina

  Subject: Sorry. New start?

  And those two little buttons. Open or delete.

  Open or delete?

  About the Author

  Alison May was born and raised in North Yorkshire, but now lives in Worcester with one husband, no kids and no pets. There were goldfish once. That ended badly.

  Alison has studied History and Creative Writing, and has worked as a waitress, a shop assistant, a learning adviser, an advice centre manager, and a freelance trainer, before settling on ‘making up stories’ as an entirely acceptable grown-up career plan.

  Alison is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association. She writes contemporary romantic comedies. She has a novella available on Kindle, Holly’s Christmas Kiss.

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