“She hasn’t said anything.”
“Well of course she hasn’t. She wouldn’t be that disloyal. But you should understand your wife a bit better and realise she wants to be free of Kathleen as much as you do.” Anya spoke with the authority of the outsider.
“Do you think so? You might have a point. But what do I do? She just says it’s always been a family thing, Sunday lunch,
“If we ever lived down here,” Anya was careful not to give away that they already did live ‘down here’, “we’d change that. Kathleen would never invite me to anything and she couldn’t invite Margaret and you and not Geoff and me could she?”
“She’d just invite Geoff on his own.”
“Well Geoff wouldn’t go. Would you?” She turned sharply to look at her husband.
Geoff took just a fraction too long to deny that he would go anywhere his wife wasn’t welcome. Anya ignored the prescient twinge of worry that second of silence caused. “We would change the pattern.” She said firmly.
“How?” Geoff and Tim spoke as one.
“Somehow.”
Tim smiled, managing to avoid Geoff’s eyes and turned towards the bar. “Bottle of Veuve Cliquot, ice cold please, and three glasses. Somehow it’s the only champagne I drink. The widow you know, in honour of our mother-in-law.”
Tim, Geoff realised with some jealousy, was speaking only to Anya.
The next morning Anya and Geoff arrived, apparently relaxed with each other, more than two hours before Kathleen was due. Tim showed them into the kitchen and sat down pouring coffee into a mug. “Help yourselves, it’s all very informal here.” Geoff smiled at the contrast with what would have been happening had Christmas been at his mother’s. “Margaret?” he asked as he hunted for two clean mugs.
“She’s not feeling very well. She seems to have a bit of food poisoning, can’t keep anything down.”
“On Christmas Day? Unheard of!”
“Stress probably.” Anya added with dry sympathy “It must be awful having to cope with the whole dysfunctional lot of us.”
“Perhaps she’s coming down with something.” Geoff was determined not to be anything but considerate to his sister.
“Perhaps she’s pregnant.” Anya suggested, keeping the cold shaft of jealousy out of her voice as she watched Tim’s face carefully. “She is!”
“God Tim, you don’t hang about.”
“It wasn’t meant to happen this soon.”
“She’s just so fucking fertile.” Anya could not hide her resentment.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Anya pulled herself together. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Congratulations. Well done. When’s it due?” Her voice was lifeless, but at least, Geoff thought, she was trying.
“Don’t for God’s sake tell her you know. Please. I shouldn’t have said anything. Not today.”
“You didn’t want it to happen did you?” Anya looked at Tim sharply. He didn’t answer and Anya took that as confirmation that Margaret and her mother had conspired to set the trap.
“Are you going to tell Mum?” Geoff wasn’t as perceptive as his wife.
“Absolutely not. Kathleen really must not know. It’s early days yet and so much can go wrong.” Only Anya heard the slight hint of hope in Tim’s voice as he continued. “So many pregnancies go wrong in the first three months or so. So I’m told anyway.”
“How far gone is she?” Anya tried to be practical.
“A couple of months I think. She’s only known definitely for a month or so. Please don’t let on you know. You mustn’t say a word.” Anya noticed how subtly Tim was disassociating himself from the pregnancy, ‘she’ not ‘we’.
“OK.” Anya thought she spoke for her husband as well as herself. “Not a word, not an inkling.”
“OK” agreed Geoff. “But how are we going to get through today? Mum will be here in half an hour.”
“No problem. Tim, tell Margaret everything is under control.” Anya walked around the units in the kitchen opening and closing cupboard doors, checking the contents of the fridge and the prominent notice board. “Eureka!” she cried triumphantly waving a piece of paper in her hand. “You said Margaret had made loads of lists, everything’s here, what time to put stuff in and what time to take it out. I’ve never used one of these things.” She stroked the cream enamel of the Aga as if it were a pet she was slightly unsure of.
“Really?” Tim asked tentatively. “It’s a lot to take on. Margaret’s been planning this for days.”
“I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. Tell her not to worry.”
Geoff watched his wife as she moved around the kitchen. ‘My wife. My wife. My wife.’ He was proud of her as she opened drawers and cupboards to check where things were. He noticed Tim’s look as he stared at Anya as she bent to check a low cupboard. Geoff tried to read what was in Tim’s look; admiration, lust, anticipation, possession. ‘But that beautiful body is mine. She is my wife, my wife, my wife.’ He repeated in his head, changing the emphasis from word to word.
They had tried to put the night before behind them. They had both been tired from the journey, unsettled by the sight of their new home, anxious about spending Christmas with his family, but, he had recognised too late, he had made a mistake in arranging for Anya and Tim to spend that time together. He had been disappointed when she didn’t want to make love, and surprised when she didn’t even kiss him goodnight, or touch feet, before turning over to sleep in the unfamiliar room. The morning had been a rush as they had had to leave the hotel, go home, change; nothing was settled, neither was comfortable. And he still didn’t understand why Anya hadn’t made a joke or teased him about the previous night’s arrangement as she had always done with the other objects of bets. He had to assume Tim meant more to her than any of the others.
When the doorbell rang Geoff answered it and kissed his mother on both cheeks. “Happy Christmas Mum.”
“Happy Christmas Geoffrey.” She detached herself from her son “And to you Tim.” She added as she turned, waiting for one of them to slip her fur coat off her shoulders. Geoff did the honours.
“Margaret?” Kathleen asked, surprised that her daughter was not at the door to welcome her. “In the kitchen I suppose. Well Christmas Dinner is such a difficult meal to prepare. It takes years of practice to get it absolutely right.”
Tim ignored the implied anticipation of failure. “I’m afraid she’s not very well, she’s eaten something that disagrees with her and can’t leave the bathroom for long.”
“I don’t think we need to know all the details Timothy. I’ll go up to see her.”
“No, Kathleen, please leave her alone. You know how upset she gets when people see her looking, well not looking her best.”
“I think I’ve seen her looking far from her best.”
“Well anyway, don’t go up.” She responded to the authority in Tim’s voice and turned reluctantly from the stairs.
“Who, then, dear boy, is doing the cooking?”
“Anya’s doing her best.”
“I’d better see what she’s getting up to. She can’t possibly know what she’s doing.” Kathleen pushed past the men into the kitchen.
Anya was sitting at the kitchen table, the bottom half of a large glass of wine in her hand, watching television. It was the first time she had seen Anya since she had become her daughter-in-law but she said nothing, she was not going to recognise the marriage because it would soon end and Geoff would be free to marry Fiona. That had always been the arrangement she wanted. She had been talking to Fiona’s mother about the possibility of encouraging their children to make a go of it when she had had the call from Geoff to say he had married Anya. It had been a disappointment but she took it as only a temporary setback. She had little doubt Geoffrey would see sense and the marriage would be over before too long and then she would bring Geoffrey and Fiona together.
“Happy Christmas mother-in-law.” Anya was relaxed and unembarrassed by the situation. “Everyth
ing’s under control. Geoff, darling, get your mum a drink. I’ll be with you in a minute. Just got to…” She paused as she sipped the last contents of the glass, “… check the bird one more time. I’ve never cooked a goose before. Go on you two, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Kathleen, appalled at the informality of it all, followed her son out of the kitchen with Anya’s voice unavoidable as she sang along with Fred Astaire ‘I’m putting on my top hat, tying up my white tie, brushing off my tails di dum da didi da da dum di didi da da polishing my nails’.
Tim led them into the living room hoping that the decorations Margaret had worked on for a fortnight would distract Kathleen. She made no mention of them, simply sitting in what she knew to be Tim’s chair by the fire.
“I wouldn’t dream of watching a film on Christmas morning.” She spoke with disapproval dripping from every word. “It is not suitable behaviour for Christmas. I suppose it was her idea to have the television in the kitchen, I’ve never heard of anything like it. It wasn’t there last week.”
“I think my wife’s doing really well.” Geoff spoke pointedly, “And what’s wrong with a drink while you’re slaving over a hot stove. She’s never used an Aga before,” he continued conversationally, “I think that’s rather brave of her.”
“And Christmas dinner! That’s really brave, cooking for her mother-in-law for the first time, in an unfamiliar kitchen.” Tim added, handing Kathleen a glass of sherry and his brother-in-law a large scotch. “And you suppose wrong, I bought that television for Margaret as a Christmas present so she could do just what Anya is doing, watch while she slaves over preparing Christmas dinner.”
Kathleen changed the subject as she usually did when the conversation was not going her way. “Will Margaret be well enough to come to church?”
“I shouldn’t think so but I’ll go up and check.” Tim left Geoff to look after his mother.
“Anya doesn’t do church.” Geoff said, before Kathleen had a chance to make any comment.
“If I am not very much mistaken she attended your sister’s wedding. That was in a church I believe.”
“Weddings are different. No, she won’t be going to church besides it’ll let her get on with cooking dinner.”
“That is why Christmas Dinner should always be in the late afternoon. I have no idea what time she thinks she’s going to serve up but there should always be time for church.”
“Anya’s doing exactly what Margaret planned to do. All the instructions were written down so everything is exactly as it would have been.” Geoff knew his mother would now change the subject.
“Will you be joining me at church? You’re hardly dressed for it.”
“I don’t suppose God will mind jeans and polo necked sweater, they’re all perfectly clean. Even my pants and socks are freshly ironed.”
As they had left home this morning Anya had tried to be conciliatory. ‘I will be good today Geoff, but please don’t let your mother take you over, I’m really going to need you to be on my side.’ He had known his mother would make her dislike of Anya and his marriage very obvious so he had promised his wife that he would show he was on her side by not doing everything his mother expected of him. ‘I won’t even go to church’ he had promised, but in the face of his mother’s determination he gave in.
“I’m coming with you, Mother, of course I am.” He excused his weakness with the thought that this was as difficult a day for his mother as it was for every member of the new, extended family. An argument would simply ruin the meal Anya was working so hard to make perfect. They sat in a silence broken only by Anya’s singing along with the film. The sound, not unpleasant to Geoff, was as irritating as a chair pushed back on a stone floor to Kathleen.
“Why did you marry her Geoffrey?” Kathleen asked loudly, hoping Anya would hear. “Did you have to marry her? Is she expecting?”
“No mother, she is not expecting. And even if she were we wouldn’t have needed that as an excuse to get married.”
“But why marry? Don’t people of your generation simply live together?”
“We have lived together, for the best part of two years, as you well know. We got married because that’s what people do when they love each other and they love being together and there’s no reason not to.”
“Whose idea was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“She knew you have money.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Well what was it like?”
“I love her, we love each other. I asked her to marry me because I love her. She said no at first.”
“I bet she did.” Geoff just heard his mother’s cynical comment.
“She said no for most of the morning. She didn’t like the idea of marriage, she believed it could only bring pain because of her, well the fact that she can’t have children…”
“She can’t what?” Kathleen interrupted speaking very slowly and deliberately. Geoff realised his mistake. If only he could take back the words. She would have to have known some time, but not yet. Anya would be horrified. “You married her even though she can’t have your children? There’ll be nobody to carry on your father’s name. You cannot have forgotten that any sons of Margaret do not count. I had never put you down as stupid, headstrong yes, but not so stupid as to marry someone who is barren. I can’t imagine what you thought you were thinking.”
Geoff wished his mother would speak more quietly, Anya must not hear their argument. “She didn’t want to marry me because of that, she knew how you would feel.”
“I doubt that.”
“She did. She had an old friend who warned her that marriage when she couldn’t have children could be a marriage under false pretences as all men want children. But I don’t. I never will. I married her because I love her, the children thing really doesn’t matter.”
“The children thing, as you put it, does indeed matter, it is of considerable importance. It may not matter to you now but it will as you grow older. And you have been immensely selfish, you must have realised you are not the only one involved in such decisions. You have responsibilities to me and to Margaret and to the memory of your dear father.”
“Oh Mother do shut up. I have responsibilities to myself to be happy and to Anya to make her happy too. That is it.”
They listened through the silence that followed, picking out any noise to break the tension. Anya was clattering pans in the kitchen, they could just hear the sound of the film, there were whisperings in the room above but neither could make out what was being said. Geoff poured his mother another sherry just for something to do.
“Sherry. On Christmas Day. Whatever happened to a bottle of Champagne?”
Geoff heard the dramatic sigh and was trying to find a suitable answer when Tim finally joined them. “Margaret won’t be going to church.”
“Well I’ll just pop upstairs to see her before we go.” Kathleen held out her glass of sherry for someone to take so she could get out of the comfortable chair.
“No, don’t. She doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“But…”
“She was just dropping off to sleep, you’d only disturb her. Whatever it was she ate is really taking it out of her. I’m only going because of meeting Mum there.” Kathleen must not suspect the true reason for Margaret’s inability to go to church on Christmas Day for the first time in her life.
An hour later Geoff sat only half involved with the familiar service. He was worrying about the many hostages to fortune that were hanging over the family. Kathleen didn’t know of her daughter’s pregnancy, a pregnancy Tim obviously did not want. But she did know that he and Anya could never be in the same position, something Anya must not realise. No one knew that he and Anya had left Liverpool for good and that it hadn’t been altogether a joint decision. And no one knew how afraid he was that his wife was regretting marrying him and would rather be with Tim.
When the family returned with Esme, everything in the house was calm and
prepared. The house was in silence, Geoff had a moment of irrational panic that Anya had left.
“Everything OK?” Geoff called from the hall as he took his mother’s coat.
“Fine.” Relieved to hear his wife’s voice he walked through to the kitchen. She was sitting quietly at the kitchen table, her eyes shut.
“I’ve never done this before. I think I’ve thought of everything but I never had family Christmases to help me know how things should be done.”
Geoff remembered each of the two Christmases since he and Anya had been together. The first when he had abandoned her in hall, the second when he had left her alone in the flat. He realised how selfish he had been and regretted that his family Christmases had always been more important than her happiness.
“Not really.” A range of images came to mind, her mother in bed all day with someone she had picked up in the pub the night before, a Bird’s Eye Chicken pie with frozen peas with a piece of holly stuck on it, never any celebration or anything to say it was a special family day, certainly no presents.
Geoff had no time to give his wife the encouragement she needed when Tim summoned them to join the others. “Come on you two, time for champagne.” He put his arm possessively across her shoulders as he led her out of the kitchen.
Tim was taking control. “I’d better tell you all what’s planned for today. We’re going to have drinks now and do those presents that haven’t been exchanged yet and then eat. If we’re still eating when The Queen is on then we can bring a television into the dining room if there is anyone who wants to watch it.
He saw out of the corner of his eye Kathleen going to interrupt. “But…” was as far as she got as Tim and Geoff each opened a bottle of champagne with all the signs of having done it many times before, and expertly filled five glasses.
“What about Margaret?” Kathleen was determined no one would forget her daughter. “You haven’t been to see how she is. I’d better…”
“She’s best left alone.” Tim’s voice was firm as he handed his mother-in-law her glass. “A toast everyone.” Our extended family.” Only Esme’s voice was heard confidently repeating her son’s words.
Highly Unsuitable Girl Page 16
