The Decision

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The Decision Page 32

by Penny Vincenzi


  ‘Why on earth not?’ she had said. ‘French women drink at least two glasses of red wine a day and an aperitif before dinner.’

  ‘I don’t care what the bloody frogs do,’ he said, ‘that’s an English baby in there and I was reading the other day that alcohol was bad, OK?’

  ‘So – you met Eliza through Charles I seem to remember, Matt?’ Sarah’s smile was not so much chilly as frozen.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Charles and I were army mates.’

  ‘Oh really? How interesting.’ A silence. Then, ‘were you out in Gibraltar with him?’

  ‘No, no. Just on the old basic training. But we kept in contact afterwards.’

  Another silence. Eliza broke in slightly desperately.

  ‘Yes, and then he helped a friend of mine, Maddy, you remember her from the wedding, Mummy, she’s the designer, wore that terribly short sort of crocheted dress and little bonnet, Daddy loved her—’

  Adrian’s face went into its rictus smile.

  ‘Do remember her, yes. Lovely girl.’

  ‘Thought you would. Anyway, Matt found her the premises where she works. He’s in the property business, as you know.’

  ‘That must be most interesting,’ said Adrian. ‘They’re practically rebuilding London, aren’t they, I heard on the wireless the other day.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s true. And I like to think I’m helping them.’

  ‘I think I rather preferred it how it was,’ said Sarah.

  A very long silence.

  ‘Eliza, why don’t you show Matt round the house,’ said Sarah, ‘while I heat up the soup.’

  ‘Got a knife?’ hissed Matt as they walked out into the hall.

  ‘What do you want a knife for?’

  ‘To cut the atmosphere with.’

  ‘Sorry, Matt. It’ll get better, I’m sure.’

  ‘Hope so.’

  He was slightly taken aback by the house all over again; she could see that. By its size, as well as its beauty. Despite the fact it was a sorry change from the lovely warm, light-filled place he had peered into at the wedding.

  ‘Very nice,’ he kept saying as she led him from the drawing room into the morning room and then across the hall to the dining room. ‘Very nice indeed,’ as they mounted the staircase, ‘God, another one,’ as bedroom followed bedroom, ‘Crikey,’ as they went up to the top floor.

  ‘Yes, and this is why it’s such a nightmare,’ said Eliza, indicating the collection of bowls in the corner of the old nursery. ‘Look, they collect water when it rains. Roof’s leaking and they can’t afford to fix it. None of us can.’

  ‘Shame. God, this is some place, Eliza. It is really—’ He paused. ‘Really beautiful. I can see why you love it. But – lot of money.’

  ‘Yes, to put it all right, you mean? Which they just haven’t got. It’s so horrible, what’s happening. But – nothing to be done. Well – let’s go down and face the music. Shall we tell them before or after lunch?’

  ‘After might be better.’

  After lunch, which wasn’t as bad as Eliza feared – her father seemed to like Matt and showed a genuine interest in his work – Sarah suggested coffee.

  ‘Lovely, Mummy. Now – just before you make it Matt and I have something to tell you.’

  She saw her mother stiffen, watched her face freeze. Eliza struggled to stay calm.

  ‘What’s that, then?’ asked her father.

  ‘Well – two things actually. But they are – linked. Matt and I are going to get married.’

  ‘Married!’ Sarah’s voice rose; the distaste in it was undisguisable.

  ‘Yes, Mummy, married.’

  ‘Well – isn’t that rather – rather soon?’

  ‘Not really. And we’re very sure about it. We’ve known each other quite a long time.’

  ‘No you haven’t!’ Sarah’s voice tore into her. ‘It’s only – what, a few months since – well, since you were in another relationship. Surely you should give it a little longer.’

  ‘No, we don’t want to do that.’

  ‘Eliza – please—’

  ‘Please what, Mummy?’

  ‘Don’t – don’t rush into this. There’s no need to get married surely, you could just live together and – and make sure – and—’

  ‘Mrs Fullerton-Clark,’ said Matt, and there was a hint of menace in his voice, ‘we are sure. I love Eliza very much and I want to marry her.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sarah, with a very faint smile, ‘yes, I see.’

  ‘And,’ Eliza took a deep breath, ‘as well as being sure, there is a – another reason for it. For getting married.’

  ‘Yes?’

  Eliza looked at Matt; he was staring at the ground. He clearly wasn’t going to say it.

  ‘I’m – well, I’m going to have a baby.’

  ‘A baby! Oh, Eliza, no.’

  Eliza quite literally held her breath and counted to ten; she knew she must remain calm, she knew she was imposing a lot on her mother, but at the same time, she could feel the cumulative strain of the past few weeks erupting into rage.

  ‘Yes,’ she said finally, ‘aren’t I – aren’t we, Matt?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Well – I just don’t know what to say.’ Sarah sat down suddenly at the kitchen table; she was very pale.

  ‘What about – congratulations?’ said Eliza, her own voice icy now.

  ‘Yes. Come along, Sarah.’ It was Adrian, clearly making a huge effort. ‘Congratulations. It’s very exciting. Well done.’

  He held out his hand to Matt, who took it rather bemusedly.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ said Sarah, ‘no, it isn’t exciting. It’s rather the reverse, I would say. I can’t pretend I think anything else. I’m sorry. I’m – I’m just going upstairs for a bit.’

  ‘I think we should leave,’ said Matt, quite quietly.

  Half an hour away from the house, he pulled over to the side of the road and looked at Eliza.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Oh, Matt. I’m sorry. You were awfully good. Staying polite.’

  ‘It was a bit weird,’ he said, ‘being regarded as a blight on your young life.’

  ‘It wasn’t that bad, Matt.’

  ‘Yes, it was. It was exactly that bad. I wasn’t just not good enough, I was totally too bad. Christ all-bloody mighty.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, ‘I’m sure they’ll get over it. I suppose – I suppose it was an awful shock. Me being pregnant and everything. I mean it wasn’t the sort of thing that they know about—’

  ‘Really? None of your posh friends ever get knocked up? I don’t believe it. Unless all those blokes lack balls as well as chins.’

  ‘Matt—’ Of course it was true. A couple of girls she knew had had to get married rather more quickly than might have been anticipated and then had surprisingly ‘premature’ babies. Moreover, she knew if she had told her parents she’d been having Jeremy’s baby they would have got the champagne out.

  ‘Look,’ she said, ‘they will come round. I know they will. Specially when the baby’s arrived.’

  ‘Matter of fact,’ he said, ‘I’m not sure I want them to. And I don’t want them coming to the wedding. I really don’t. Even if they begged me.’

  ‘Oh, Matt, please! Let’s not get into all that. A family feud. Please, Matt. Just for me. Me and the baby.’

  ‘Well – I’ll see. Not saying any more than that. Anyway, something tells me they won’t even consider coming.’

  He was horribly hurt; it took him days to get over it. She felt very hurt herself, and shocked and embarrassed at her parents’ behaviour – well, her mother’s. She thought she had never loved her father more than when he had held out his shaky hand to Matt.

  ‘Give them time,’ she said again, ‘and I love you, that’s what matters.’

  So far there had been a chilly note from her mother, saying she was of course pleased to hear about the baby ‘if
that’s what you want’ but she would have to get back to Eliza about the wedding. ‘Daddy’s health being what it is, I think it’s a little unlikely that he could make the journey, but we will have to see how he gets on in the next few weeks or so. He varies a lot.’

  Charles had called to say that he and Juliet would be there. Eliza felt a flash of remorse. ‘That’s really lovely, Charles. Thank you.’

  He also made a rather stiff phone call to Matt, congratulating him and with a feeble attempt at humour telling him he was mad, he had no idea what he was taking on.

  Matt’s family were all delighted; his mother especially so.

  She embraced Eliza, patted her stomach tenderly, told her she was a brave girl to take Matt on and said she couldn’t wait to have her as a daughter-in-law. Pete was slightly stiff about it, and took Matt down to the pub to give him a quick lecture. ‘Getting a girl in the family way, without marrying her, that’s not how we brought you up, Matt. It’s a big responsibility, being a family man. You can’t just pick it up and put it down again, you know.’

  ‘Yes, Dad, I do know. And I’m taking it very seriously. Honestly. I’m marrying her, aren’t I?’

  ‘Son,’ said Pete, ‘that’s only the beginning.’

  His young brothers were both slightly embarrassed; they said she was much too good for Matt, and then disappeared up to their rooms.

  Scarlett’s reaction was the most unexpected. She embraced them both, told Eliza she couldn’t be more pleased, ‘but you will have to keep him in order, you know, not let him run rings round you,’ but was clearly also rather upset by something, and suddenly announced in the middle of lunch that she was sorry, she had a bad headache and she was going to lie down for ten minutes if nobody minded.

  Sandra went up after quarter of an hour and came down looking worried.

  ‘She’s upset about something, she’d obviously been crying, you didn’t say anything to her, did you, Matt?’

  Matt replied indignantly that of course he hadn’t; Eliza was worried that Scarlett might secretly dislike her but when she came down again, looking flushed and rather bright-eyed, she hugged Eliza, said she was sorry, she’d had a dreadful week’s heavy-duty flying, and that she was absolutely delighted to have her as a sister-in-law.

  Sarah was trying very hard to be positive about Matt. She told herself there was no point thinking about Jeremy, or what might have been; nevertheless she found herself doing exactly that a great deal. She felt outraged that her daughter should be throwing away all the work and all the money she and Adrian had invested in her. ‘Just for a bit of foolish romanticism. That’s all it is. She could have had a golden future, with someone of her own sort and here she is, slumming it with this person.’

  Adrian told her she was a snob and that her father had no doubt thought she was slumming it with him. ‘Darling, that’s just not right. You might not have had any money but you knew what was what. This – this Matt clearly doesn’t.’

  ‘Sarah! Darling! Don’t start thinking like that, please. It’s just not very – very helpful.’

  She was increasingly worried about the house; it was still cold and they simply couldn’t afford to heat much of it. She had converted the morning room into a sort of bed-sitting room with two comfortable chairs and the television, a small table and a bed for Adrian to use when, as increasingly was the case, she was unable to get him upstairs. She would then go up alone to her bedroom and quite often lie awake for hours, worrying what on earth would become of them.

  Charles increasingly urged her to talk to the trustees about breaking the trust and moving into something smaller; she would have hoped he’d be more helpful and positive, Summercourt should, after all, become his one day; didn’t he want that, she asked him, almost exasperated, at the end of a long Sunday when they had talked endlessly about it and surveyed the increasing ravages of neglect.

  ‘Mummy, I have to be realistic,’ he said, looking slightly hunted, ‘I don’t have any money, you know I don’t, I don’t earn a lot, Juliet wants to move into something better than a flat in Chiswick—’

  ‘Which I presume Summercourt isn’t?’ said Sarah coldly.

  ‘We can’t come and live down here, you must see that. I have my job, she has hers, and she would like to think about starting a family—’

  ‘Which should have Summercourt as its home. Charles, I don’t understand you, you don’t seem to have any sense of Summercourt’s place in your life.’

  ‘Mummy, its place in my life feels like an immense drain. Look, please try to understand. I’m sorry, and of course I love it, and I’ll be sad to see it go, but it’s simply making life harder for all of us, particularly you. We have to move with the times, and face facts.’

  Sarah wondered how much of this speech had originally come from Juliet.

  In the event they didn’t come to the wedding. Sarah wrote a stiff little note saying they could come, ‘Daddy’s health permitting,’ but two days before, she rang to say that Adrian had had a couple of falls and was very badly bruised and with a possibly broken wrist. ‘He simply isn’t well enough to come, and I don’t feel I can leave him.’

  Eliza was so hurt and angry she could hardly speak.

  ‘Mummy, it’s my wedding day. Surely someone could look after Daddy?’

  ‘No, Eliza, I’m afraid not. I don’t think you understand how difficult things are for me. I understand Charles and Juliet are coming, they can represent us all.’

  Eliza thought of the loving family she had grown up in and wondered for the hundredth time if they really cared about her at all.

  Not even the Marchants could come; they were away visiting relatives in Washington.

  ‘But thrilled to hear about the baby,’ Anna wrote, ‘and as soon as I get back, we must celebrate, the four of us. Enjoy being pregnant, darling; I never managed it, as you know.’

  Eliza was rather sadly trying on her shoes the night before, and trying to decide whether to wear white tights or cream ones, when the phone rang.

  ‘Darling? It’s Daddy.’

  ‘Oh – Daddy. How lovely to hear your voice, you’re all right, are you?’

  ‘As all right as I’ll ever be again.’

  ‘Oh, Daddy. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Yes, well, this call isn’t about me. It’s about you. Listen, sweetheart, you have a lovely day tomorrow and I would give anything, anything, to be able to be there and walk you down the aisle. Who’s going to do that, for you, Charles?’

  ‘Um – yes,’ she said quickly, unable to face explaining that there wasn’t any aisle.

  Charles had actually offered to ‘escort her in’ to the room, and she had accepted gratefully. It would be at least someone of her own.

  ‘Good, good. Well, make sure there are lots of photographs.’

  ‘I will, Daddy.’ She smiled into the phone.

  ‘And now, don’t you worry about your mother. She’ll come round. I like your young man, I think he’s rather interesting and obviously going far. Take care of yourself, darling, and God bless. I love you.’

  She took those words into the room with her next day.

  She took other things too: a sense of absolute happiness, and of rightness; and a heart so overflowing with love that when she looked at Matt, smiling at her rather tensely, it was all she could do not to rush into his arms there and then before any more of the ceremony took place.

  The lunch at the Arethusa was great fun; Louise, who proclaimed herself honorary best man, made a very funny speech full of affection, Charles made a very touching one, saying how much he loved his sister and how he had always regarded her as his best friend – Juliet’s smile at this point became slightly strained – and Pete got very carried away, and made a completely unexpected unrehearsed speech, saying what a lovely girl Eliza was and how proud he was to have her in the family. At which point even Matt was seen to look distinctly moist-eyed. And when Matt himself stood up and declared that he simply couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be ma
rrying a girl who was ‘so completely special and who I love so completely much, nothing more to be said really’, Eliza burst into tears and sobbed for at least a minute on a slightly bemused Pete’s shoulder. It wasn’t a conventional wedding and nor was it large or lavish; but it was, in the end, an extraordinarily happy one.

  Chapter 26

  He kept reading it, thinking it would seem better as he got used to it. It didn’t.

  ‘Dear Mr Fullerton-Clark,

  I felt I should bring it to your attention that your current account is now overdrawn £2,500. This is, as I am sure you must be aware, a very large sum, and goes far beyond the £500 limit we initially agreed, and even the temporary extension to £1,000 which you assured me would be settled within thirty days. Please make arrangements to come and see me as soon as possible to discuss repayments, and in the meantime I regret I shall have no alternative but to return any cheques written on your account. As it is a joint account please inform Mrs Fullerton-Clark of this also.

  Yours sincerely,

  John Winston

  Manager, Sloane Square Branch.

  Christ, now what did he do. Two and a half grand, that was an awful lot of money. An impossible amount. How had he done that? Mrs Fullerton-Clark of course had a great deal to answer for in the matter; that cocktail party she’d insisted they gave, not to mention the endless tedious dinner parties, her bloody Harrods account, the holiday she’d booked ‘as a surprise’ on the joint account, flying – flying for Christ’s sake and First Class, to Venice for their wedding anniversary, and then, oh God, the deposit on the house Juliet had found and fallen in love with near Guildford, maybe he could do something clever with the mortgage, now there was an idea. It just crept up, month by month, the odd saving of ten or twenty pounds here and there hardly worth making, so he didn’t, but the worst thing was that insane gamble with those shares, which everyone had said were a dead cert – fifteen hundred bloody quid, worth just about a tenth of that now – anyway, he had to think of something. And talk to Juliet.

  ‘But I just don’t understand. We’re so careful, don’t live at anything like the rate of our friends, hardly ever go out to restaurants, still haven’t joined the Ad Lib or the Saddle Room—’

 

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