by Adale Geras
*
‘House is jolly quiet without young Isis, isn’t it?’ Bob said. ‘We’ll soon change that. Listen to what I’ve got here. Zannah’s approved all this, of course. I played it to her yesterday, but I want to know what you think.’ He pressed a button on the CD player and organ music, a gloriously sonorous, dense and textured sound, filled the small study. Emily loved this room. She’d always been allowed in here on condition that she didn’t touch any of the small bits and pieces – pottery, pieces of ancient metal, beads, fragments of paper and what looked like grass or straw – that were strewn on the desk, in boxes on the floor, on shelves attached to the wall: everywhere.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Emily said. ‘Will the organist in Clapham be up to it, though?’
‘A bit of Purcell? Lovely, isn’t it? … I should think most church organists worth their salt would manage it, but I’ll ask Charlotte. And we can have the local choral society to beef up the singing, apparently. Courtesy of Edie. “Love Divine All Loves Excelling”, sung to the Stainer tune. Very good choice, I think.’
‘It’s going to be terrific, Pa. You’ve really worked on it, haven’t you? Zannah loves it, I know. She told me she wished we could have fewer words and more music.’
‘You do need the words, though. They’re full of poetry in the traditional form. I’m so relieved Zannah’s gone for that and not one of the modern versions. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship and with all my wordly goods I thee endow.” Spot on, that. Beautiful!’
‘I didn’t know you were such a softie, Pa.’ Emily smiled.
‘Nothing soft about it. I enjoy ritual, the older the better. In fact, speaking of old things reminds me: I’m glad I’ve got you on your own. I’ve mentioned this to your mother, naturally, but not given her the details. It’s about my next trip to Egypt. Just after the wedding, actually. May the thirtieth. Absolutely essential that I’m there, so it’s a bit of relief that the dates don’t clash with the big day. I’d have been in a real fix then.’
‘That’s good,’ said Emily. ‘Wish I could fly off to Egypt.’
‘Why can’t you? I’d love to have you. It could easily be arranged. You could be my assistant, if you’re willing to fetch and carry a bit. It’ll be bloody hot in May, though. Sure you’re up to it?’
‘I am if you are. But what about my work?’
‘Holiday? Aren’t you due some?’
Emily thought for a moment. If she took the whole of her summer holiday in May, she’d be wanting another by the end of August. On the other hand, she’d always wanted to go on an expedition. The timing, too, was perfect. She wouldn’t have to be alone in the flat straight away, with Zannah on her honeymoon, and Isis staying with Cal and his mother in Hampshire.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I might look into it. Thanks, Pa.’
He pressed pause, and leaned over the machine looking serious. ‘Will you be all right in the flat with Zannah gone? I presume she and Adrian will find a house, won’t they?’
‘Oh, yes. They’re starting to look straight after Christmas. I’ve already spotted a few of those sheets from estate agents lying about. I’ll find some friends to share with me. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.’
She didn’t mention that she wasn’t looking forward one bit to Zannah moving out. She was used to having her around. And she would really miss Isis. What were the chances of Adrian and Zannah buying a house in the same area? Very slender, knowing Adrian, Emily thought. He’d be keen to move somewhere like Chelsea or Kew. Very nice too, and bully for Zannah, snaffling a bloke who could even think about those prices, but much too far away for daily visits.
‘What you need,’ said Bob, ‘is to find yourself a young man, you know.’
‘Oh God, don’t you start,’ Emily said. ‘I can sense Charlotte and her cronies eyeing me in a desperate way every time I go there. They switch on their engagement-ring alert the second I walk through the door. I thought you and Ma were cool about stuff like that.’
‘Good heavens, we’re totally “cool”. Just want you to be happy, that’s all.’
‘Perhaps I’ll meet a handsome archaeologist while I’m in Egypt next May.’
‘I suspect,’ said Bob, laughing, ‘that I’m the last of the breed, but you never know.’
‘You’re certainly very conceited,’ said Emily.
‘Enough of this frivolity,’ said Bob. ‘There’s still lots of music I want to play you.’
As Emily prepared to listen, a thought crossed her mind. If Pa was going to Egypt after the wedding, why didn’t he ask Ma to go with him? As far as Emily knew, he never had. Why was that? Maybe she’d already told him she didn’t want to go. I’ll find out later, she thought.
*
‘Will I see Mister and Hamish?’ Isis was sitting in the back seat of her father’s car, and they were going to be driving for ages. It was miles and miles from Grandma and Grandpa’s house to where Granny lived in Hampshire.
‘Of course you will,’ said Cal. ‘They can’t wait to see you, I bet.’
Mister and Hamish were Granny’s cats and Isis thought it was funny that they were even older than she was because they’d stayed exactly the same all the time she’d known them. There were photos of her when she was really, really tiny and the cats had been huge even then. They were both ginger-and-white all over. Granny said she’d chosen Mister and Hamish when they were kittens because they matched the two ginger-and-white china cats that sat on her mantelpiece at either side of the clock.
Dad didn’t normally speak much when he was driving. They listened to music. Dad liked the White Stripes, Radiohead and Kaiser Chiefs and Isis knew lots of the songs. Her best song for singing in the car was called ‘I Predict A Riot’. When the CD finished, Dad said, ‘Why don’t you have a nap, Icey? I can drive without music’
‘I’m not tired.’ This wasn’t quite true, but she loved being by herself with Dad and she didn’t want to waste any of that time by sleeping.
‘Fine,’ Dad said. Then he didn’t say anything for a bit. Isis was just wondering what was the matter, and whether he was going to put on another CD, when he said, ‘Are you getting excited? About the wedding, I mean.’
‘I’m dead excited. So’s Gemma. We’re going to have a fitting after New Year. I can’t wait to see my dress. Try it on, I mean. I’ve seen what it’s going to look like.’
‘Great. You’ll have to get Em to take a photo to show me.’
‘You’ll see it at the wedding.’
‘Sweetie, I’m not coming to the wedding. Didn’t you know that?’
Isis thought about it. Dad was right. Adrian wouldn’t like it if he was there. She said, ‘I suppose I did know really. I wasn’t thinking.’
‘That’s okay. I’m sure it’ll be smashing and you can tell me about it afterwards, right?’ Then he added, ‘How’re you getting on with Adrian?’
‘He’s okay.’
‘How’ll it be, living with him and Mum? Will you like that?’
Isis thought about this. ‘I expect so. I’ll be at school mostly.’
The car drove along in the dark for a while and then Dad said, ‘Well, there’s still evenings and holidays.’
‘It’ll be okay. He’s nice to me.’
‘That’s fine, chicken, if you say so.’
Isis felt ashamed of herself for only telling her dad the good part of the truth. Adrian was nice to her most of the time, but he got cross if things became too messy or noisy; he called it ‘chaotic’. Mum got cross sometimes and so did Dad, but it was different somehow. She knew they’d always make friends with her afterwards. She didn’t want to upset her father and she knew it would cause trouble if she told him about Adrian and the boarding school. Her mum, too, would’ve gone mad if she’d heard what Adrian had said to her.
A few days ago, just before Christmas, she’d been alone with Adrian while Mum was upstairs getting ready to go out with him, and he’d started telling her again how happy he’d been at boarding
school, how happy the daughters of a few of his friends were at this amazing boarding school in the country which had a heated swimming-pool and everything. He said it was really brill, and if she felt like going he could speak to Mum about it. Isis hadn’t known what to say. She didn’t know what she thought about going away to boarding school. It might be great, like in the Malory Towers books, but it would be awful to be away from Mum and Em. She knew she’d miss them. She even missed Mum a bit when she was staying with Dad. And what about Gemma and all her other friends?
‘I wouldn’t mention it to her now,’ Adrian had said. ‘She’s so busy with all the arrangements. We’d better wait till later, okay? After the wedding.’
Isis hadn’t said a word to anyone. Maybe she should’ve, but maybe not. Mum is busy, she told herself, and if I told Dad, he’d just worry about me. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she thought that if Mum and Adrian quarrelled, then there was a chance she wouldn’t want to be married to him and if she didn’t want to be married to him, then there’d be no dress and no party and no flowers. She decided to do what Adrian told her to do and not say anything till the wedding was over.
The sound of ‘Planet Telex’ by Radiohead filled the inside of the car. Isis looked at the back of her father’s head. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she went to sleep now, she wouldn’t have to think about it. And when she woke up, they’d be at Granny’s house and the cats would be there, waiting for her.
Sunday
‘How come,’ Cal said, ‘you’re not dancing the night away like Zannah? There must be at least three parties you could be at right now.’
‘I don’t do New Year,’ said Emily, who was stretched out on the sofa sipping brandy. Cal was slumped in the chair opposite her, looking as unfestive as she was feeling. She went on, ‘All that enforced jollity and not knowing the person you’ve just kissed and not really wanting to. Ghastly “Auld Lang Syne” and in Zannah’s case, Hooray Henries from Adrian’s bank and their girlfriends. Not my thing. And you’re a fine one to talk. Where’s your party?’
‘Didn’t fancy it, to be honest. Much rather be with Isis. And you, of course,’ he added gallantly.
She didn’t say And I like being alone with you. Lately, Emily hadn’t seen much of Cal, but since she’d officially given up hope long ago of him falling in love with her, she was trying hard not to care too much about whether she saw him or not. But Cal was right: she’d turned down four different invitations, and she was glad she had. They’d had a good time here in the flat. Two movies on DVD – one with Isis, one after she’d gone to bed – and lots of wine before the brandy meant that Emily felt pleasantly woozy. Not drunk but not sober either: the perfect way to greet the next twelve months.
‘You could have gone to your parents’ or Charlotte.’
Emily thought of what went on in Altrincham at New Year and said, ‘Ma and Pa have a dinner party with some old friends and that’s it. Not worth going all the way up there for. And Charlotte and her pals are probably fast asleep. They’ve seen too many New Years to be impressed by another. Or maybe they’re knocking back the Glenmorangie, just the three of them, all nice and cosy. And I dread to think what Maureen’s idea of a New Year’s Eve party is like. Multiple balloons and full evening dress. And champagne, of course.’
‘I bet,’ Cal said, ‘it’s after midnight. What’s your watch say?’
‘Hmm.’ Emily sat up. ‘Quarter to one. How come we missed it? What were we doing at midnight?’
‘Watching Tom Cruise triumphing in Collateral. Never mind.’ Cal got to his feet. ‘We’ll say “Happy New Year” right now. Get off the sofa and give us a kiss.’
Emily jumped up and Cal hugged her, then kissed her, first on one cheek then the other and once on her forehead. She thought, he’s not quite drunk enough to forget himself and give me a proper snog. The kissing came to an end, and Cal sat back on his chair and Emily returned to the sofa. She said, ‘You don’t look terribly happy, Cal. What sort of year’s it going to be if you’ve got a long face on New Year’s Eve?’
‘Sorry, Em. I’m okay. I’m just … Well, there’s stuff I’m not looking forward to, that’s all.’
‘Like what?’
Cal poured himself another glass of wine. ‘I don’t think I should tell you. You tell Zannah everything.’
‘No, I don’t,’ said Emily, reflecting that she’d managed to keep her feelings for Cal completely to herself. ‘There are some things we don’t tell one another.’ She leaned forward and whispered, ‘Your secret is safe with me,’ in an accent that was supposed to be mystical and gypsy-like and came out sounding completely ridiculous.
‘Not worth mentioning, really.’
‘Go on, Cal. You can’t not tell me now. Shan’t breathe a word.’
‘It’s nothing you don’t know. I’m not … Well, I wish Zannah wasn’t marrying that wally.’
‘Adrian’s not a wally.’ She thought, he’s not Cal, but no one could call him a ‘wally’.
‘I was being polite. That was a mild version of what I think of him, actually.’
‘He’s okay, Cal. And anyway, Zannah loves him. I sort of see what you mean, but he’s not bad, honestly. He’s very … well, very attentive to her. Does what she says, I suppose, is what I mean.’
‘And I didn’t?’
‘I’m not saying that. You know I wish she’d stayed with you. Really. But now that, well, Zannah’s moved on … ’
‘I should as well. I know, but you asked. I’m not doing anything about it. I’m not telling a single other person. Sometimes I don’t even admit it to myself. It’s only when I get a bit pissed that I feel like this. And that’s probably why I’m blabbing to you. Sorry, Em. Don’t mean to burden you with my troubles.’
‘You should find someone else. It’s no good mooning over Zannah.’
‘Don’t think I haven’t tried. There’s been the odd person, but no one who … well, no one I’d like to be married to.’
‘Apart from Zannah?’
There was a long silence. For a moment, Emily thought Cal might have fallen asleep. Then he said, ‘Right. Zannah. I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d have me.’
Emily looked carefully at Cal in the dimmed light that shone from the one lamp they’d turned on. Were his eyes filling with tears? Cal? For as long as she’d known him, he’d laughed his way out of any emotional impasse, but now he was almost in tears and there was a suspicious crack in his voice as he said, ‘I rely on you, Em, to keep this entirely to yourself, okay?’
‘I’ve promised, haven’t I?’ Emily thought she should dispel the heavy mood. She said, lightly, jokily, ‘Besides, she wouldn’t have you. She’s completely obsessed with this wedding.’
‘And Adrian too, I presume, so there’s nothing more to say. Keep mum, Em, and let’s have another drink.’
New Year’s Eve. Drinking more wine was about the only thing worth doing.
‘Right. I’ve had some brandy though. Will it make me throw up if I mix them?’
‘It shouldn’t, but we’ll soon find out,’ said Cal, pouring wine into a clean glass and holding it out to her. ‘Cheers.’
Wednesday
‘Is it too late to wish you all a happy New Year?’ Miss Hayward smiled at what seemed, in her small living room, to be a crowd of people. Joss had come down at Zannah’s request to see the dress, which was having its first proper fitting today. Isis was there too, to try on the bridesmaid’s outfit, and visibly excited at the prospect. Joss suspected that part of the reason she’d been invited was to keep an eye on her granddaughter in case boredom set in during the afternoon. Emily had taken time off work to accompany them, refusing to be left out of such a fantastically important occasion.
‘You need us both, don’t you, Zannah?’ she’d said while they were on their way to Highgate. ‘You need our opinion on this very important matter, right?’
Zannah had agreed, of course. If she could have had Charlotte there as well, she’d have been even more delighted,
but it was quite fortunate she hadn’t joined the party. Miss Hayward’s living room would’ve struggled to cope with even one more body. As it was, Isis was sitting on the floor at Joss’s feet.
‘No, not late at all,’ Zannah said. ‘January the eleventh is still very much New Year, I think.’
‘Well, everything’s ready for you to try on, my dear,’ said Miss Hayward. ‘If you come upstairs with me, I’ll get you into the dress and then we can call the others up to see how it looks. Is that all right?’
‘That’s lovely. Thank you.’ Zannah sprang up, smiling. She followed Miss Hayward out of the room.
‘Mum’ll call us soon, won’t she, Granny?’ Isis had got to her feet and was examining the china figurines on the mantelpiece. ‘Isn’t this lady pretty? I like her hat!’
She was looking at one of the shepherdesses who was dressed in foaming pale pink lacy skirts and a wide-brimmed hat trailing green ribbons. Real agriculture was obviously the last thing on her mind.
‘Yoo-hoo! You can come up now!’ That was Miss Hayward.
‘Did she really say yoo-hoo? I thought that was only in books.’ Em took Isis’s hand and they went quickly up the stairs. Joss followed. Miss Hayward was waiting on the landing, holding open the door to one of the bedrooms.
