Summer at Tiffany's

by Karen Swan

  ‘Is that what you’re doing?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘Well, you said earlier you like living in the moment, which is kind of the opposite to making plans to grow old together, isn’t it?’

  ‘I . . .’ Cassie wasn’t sure how to respond. Exactly how had this conversation become about her and not about Gem?

  ‘It sounds to me like you don’t actually believe in marriage at all, anymore,’ Gem said, flicking the stub of her cigarette to the pavement below. ‘Regardless of age.’

  Cassie blinked at her, infuriated on the one hand, stunned on the other; the girl was a champion debater, leading Cassie along paths she’d had no intention of walking down. She was more confused about what she thought and felt than she’d ever realized. ‘You know what?’ she said defiantly. ‘Maybe I don’t. Maybe I bloody well don’t. It’s an outdated institution that has no relevance to modern life and modern relationships, it’s just some hangover from a time when women were like chattels; something to be traded. But you’re an independent, educated girl, Gem. Why do you need a ring on your finger? It’s just a form of ownership, not really any different from being branded like cattle, ’ Cassie said dismissively, straightening her back as she got into her stride. Oh Suzy was going to love this when she heard about it.

  Gem looked at the ring winking on Cassie’s own finger. ‘Well, if that’s how you really feel, why are you wearing that then?’

  Cassie looked down at the ring, remembering the moment – the perfect moment – when Henry had given it to her. She’d been so swept up in the romance of it, so carried away by the glorious shock and drama of it all, that it would have been impossible, totally unthinkable, to give voice to these thoughts. And, of course, she just loved him so, so much. But these words – they shone with the shimmer of truth in them, they sprung from feelings that had, somewhere along the line, become instincts and she herself didn’t understand how these supposedly contradictory feelings could co-exist within her. She crumpled like an autumn leaf. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Don’t you think you should tell— Oh hey, how long have you been standing there?’ Gem asked, her voice brightening as she turned to face the party again. ‘Henry?’

  Cassie whipped round. How long had he been standing there? What had he heard? She was almost scared to see the expression on his face, but she needn’t have worried – the crowd was already closing around him and all she could see was his halo of gold hair disappearing into the shadows.

  Chapter Twelve

  Even at such an ungodly hour, Heathrow was heaving. Cassie moved out of the way of a troop of Japanese tourists, all pushing their hard-ridged suitcases along on double wheels, going to wait instead by the trolley station. She resumed watching Henry, who was standing at the check-in desk and putting his passport back in his rucksack; even from this distance, she could see the tension in his bones.

  He had left the party last night without her – something he had never done before – but he hadn’t gone home either, and when he’d finally rolled up in a taxi at 4 a.m., Beau hollering something out of the window as it pulled away, she had pretended to be asleep. There had been no point trying to talk to him – to explain – when he was that drunk and angry.

  But she hadn’t fared any better this morning either. He’d had barely more than ninety minutes’ sleep and the expression on his face kept the words stuck in her throat, unable to come out, as they got dressed. They had driven over together in silence, her at the wheel of his Mini, as he’d tried to get some more sleep, and now he was moments away from leaving. The rest of the crew would be here somewhere too and she desperately didn’t want to say her goodbyes to him in front of them.

  She watched as he lurched over – still drunk, no doubt – almost tripping over a sleeping student, but still looking distractingly good in his battered jeans, boat shoes and red and blue team sailing jacket. The very sight of him made her catch her breath, as it always did. He came and stood in front of her, gaze averted, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, like a reluctant schoolboy waiting for his mother’s peck on the cheek at the gates.

  Her hand reached for his arm. ‘Henry, please don’t leave like this. I can’t bear for you to go when you can’t even look at me. I’ve told you – I love you. I want to be with you. Only you. Why isn’t that enough?’

  He blinked, his eyes cold. ‘Because it isn’t. There’s no commitment. No security. And I’ve spent long enough waiting for you, don’t you think?’

  ‘But you are the only man I want. I will never leave you.’

  ‘And yet you won’t commit to stay because it’s like Gem said – you want to keep your options open.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’

  ‘I heard you, Cass.’

  ‘She just made me cross, that’s all. She’s infuriating to talk to.’

  ‘Do you have any idea how it felt for me to overhear you talking to her – almost a complete stranger to you – about something that’s so intrinsic to us?’

  ‘I didn’t know . . . I didn’t know it was going to come out the way it did. I didn’t realize it was how I really felt. They weren’t feelings that I’d consciously admitted to myself.’

  ‘So then you do admit it is how you really feel?’ He closed his eyes, his face scrunched with pain and his fists balled, trying to contain himself as the emotions grew and the clock ticked. There was so much to say, too much . . .

  Bloody Gem! Cassie swallowed hard, knowing time was already against her and she felt her own anger grow. Why was she always painted as the bad guy in this? ‘Have you ever tried seeing it from my point of view? Some might say that if you really loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to go back into something I’ve worked so hard to get over and away from; if you loved me, you’d just accept you’ve got me, without having to have some kind of ownership. You’re trying to push me into something I just don’t believe in anymore.’

  She dipped her head low, trying to get him to meet her eyes, to forgive her, to see that love was enough, but the expression on his face floored her and she pulled back sharply. He withdrew his hand from his pocket and reached for her left hand, raising it to eye level, her Tiffany solitaire winking back at her like a cheeky child. ‘Then why did you say, “Yes”?’ he asked, the words spinning out slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper. It was exactly the same question Gem had asked last night – the one she didn’t have an answer to, then or now.

  ‘Because . . .’ she faltered. ‘I was just so happy to be with you I couldn’t think beyond that moment. I wasn’t even divorced when you proposed. I hadn’t had time to take a breath.’

  He blinked back slowly. ‘Well, you’ve got it now.’

  ‘What do you . . . ?’ She couldn’t finish. Her mouth felt dry, her heart pausing in its beats.

  ‘While I’m gone, you need to make a decision.’ His voice was deeper than usual, torn and ragged by sharp emotions. ‘Do you want to be my wife or not? I don’t have any doubts or fears about us, and I won’t entertain “what ifs?”. I don’t want to live a half-life. I won’t.’

  Her mouth parted as she willed the words to come out, but she felt stoppered by the distinction he’d made. She wanted to be his, but she didn’t know whether she wanted to be anyone’s wife again. That was the honest truth of it.

  His eyes, red-rimmed and bluer than usual, pinned hers, reading her mind, and he looked down again with a short, scornful laugh, his hands on his hips. She watched as he shook his head fractionally as though in disbelief.

  ‘Henr—’

  ‘Henry!’

  Beau’s toff shout filled the terminal, his voice and spirits seemingly unaffected by last night’s excesses. Henry half turned, acknowledging Beau’s signalling with an abrupt nod of his head.

  He turned back to her, exhaling heavily as his eyes roamed her like a familiar land, seemingly consigning the sight of her to memory. She felt hollowed out by the sight of him so ravaged and her eyes filled with tear
s – grief that he was leaving, grief that he was leaving like this, rushing into the void. And then his hands were on her cheeks, his mouth on hers as he kissed her with all the passion and desperation of their first kiss, his tears mingling with hers so that she didn’t know where his sorrow ended and hers began.

  He pulled away just a little, his forehead pressed to hers, his eyes squeezed shut as though the sight of her was painful to him now, and she inhaled the scent of him – beery though he was – with rising desperation. He was going. He was really going, even as their relationship stood on the precipice.

  With effort he stepped back, his hands dropped down, off and away from her for the final time, it felt like.

  ‘Make your decision, Cass.’

  And he turned and walked away, leaving both of them to head into the unknown.

  ‘It’s definitely just a rocky patch,’ Kelly said calmly through the screen as Cassie took another deep gulp of her vodka and tonic – no lemon: Henry had forgotten to buy them before he left and Cassie had found it hard to find any enthusiasm to get off the sofa at all for the past three days – not even for the precious lemons that were ‘de rig’ for her perfect V&T. He had landed in Sydney two days ago now, and today was the launch date, the day he stepped onto that bottle-boat and wouldn’t be safe and dry again for three months – and she had heard nothing. Not a text, not a tweet, not a peep.

  ‘You said that last time.’

  ‘And I was right then too. This is the same fight. Nothing’s changed.’

  ‘Everything’s changed! Now he knows what I really think!’ Cassie wailed, finishing with a signature hiccup.

  ‘Well, it was going to have to come out one way or the other. Did you really think you could just go on putting it off?’

  ‘Yes!’ Cassie cried, closing one eye and staring into the bottom of her glass with the other – it made her thighs look huge! ‘Oh God, why did he have to come over just then? A minute before, a minute after . . . It’s all Suzy’s fault, you know.’

  Kelly arched an eyebrow as she sipped her water. ‘How?’

  ‘She bullied me into trying to talk her cousin out of getting married. She’s only twenty and Suze thought it would be a great idea if I told her all about my own disastrous child-bride marriage!’ Cassie threw her hands in the air. ‘Oh yes, great idea!’

  ‘Well, I can see her logic. You get to speak from experience.’

  ‘No! No! Because she conveniently forgot to mention that her cousin has a PhD in arguing. She’d convert the Pope to Buddhism and have Vladimir Putin consulting his auras within twenty minutes of meeting them. She’s impossible to talk to – she just twists your words and makes you say things you never knew you . . .’ She trailed off. See? Gem had done it again and she wasn’t even in the room!

  Kelly’s head tipped to the side, a sympathetic smile on her face.

  Cassie double-blinked anxiously. ‘What if this whole issue is too big for us to get past?’

  ‘There’s no such thing. It’s just a matter of how hard you’re prepared to work to find a solution. It’s a long road that has no turns, Cass.’

  Cassie was quiet. There was no future for her and Henry if she decided against marrying again. He didn’t want to be happily unmarried.

  ‘You think I should marry him, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s up to y—’

  ‘Yes or no? Gut response.’

  ‘Fine, yes, I do. You’re blissful together. It’s nauseating to watch, but I’ll be honest – I have sometimes wondered whether your year out after you left Gil wasn’t a little too successful,’ Kelly said. ‘Being independent doesn’t mean you have to be invincible.’

  ‘Do I look invincible to you right now?’ Cassie asked sardonically, indicating to her lank hair, pale complexion and the almost-empty glass in her hand.

  ‘No,’ Kelly conceded. ‘But maybe you should let Henry see you like this. He probably has no idea that you’d fall apart without him.’

  Cassie spluttered, suddenly, with laughter.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I just had an image of Anouk’s expression if she’d overheard you say I should let him see me looking like this! “Are you mad? Looking like that? What is wrong with you?”’ Cassie cried, mimicking their friend’s accent perfectly. ‘“No man should ever see his woman looking like that. It is a wonder to me that you two are still together. Go wash your hair and match your lingerie. That is an order.”’

  Kelly laughed too. ‘Ha! That’d be nothing! She’d die on the spot if she saw the shoulder-boulder bras I just had to buy . . .’

  Cassie stopped grinning. She hadn’t dared bring up the topic of the pregnancy yet. Kelly had determinedly kept charge of the conversation from the start, emitting non-verbal clues not even to raise the issue, but now . . .

  ‘Really?’ She kept her tone light.

  Kelly nodded, looking down at her own bosom, which was impossible to gauge for size in a black silk shirt. ‘They’re ballooning, actually.’

  ‘Oh right. Did that happen last time?’ She was careful to keep any trace of hope from her voice. It had only been a week since their last lock-in, meaning Kelly was at eight weeks now, with only four to go till she was officially – and statistically – out of danger and Brett got to know he was going to be a father.

  Kelly shook her head. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything, though,’ she added quickly.

  ‘No, no, I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m still losing this baby next week.’

  Cassie winced at the brutality of her friend’s words. ‘Kell, you don’t know that for s—’

  Kelly sniffed. ‘Yes, I do. I know the pattern. It happens next week.’ She stared back hard at Cassie – a warning for her not to push back.

  Cassie looked away. She knew these hard-hitting words were Kelly’s way of managing her own instincts, which were willing her to hope, daring her to dream that maybe this time, this time they’d get through . . . She shifted position, tucking her legs beneath her on the sofa.

  ‘Well, then I guess I’d better get off my lazy arse and buy some lemons.’

  There was a pause. ‘Lemons?’

  Cassie held up her glass. ‘If we’re going to make this a daily thing, I can’t carry on drinking poorly made V&Ts. A girl’s got to have standards, right?’

  Kelly cracked a grateful smile, getting the unspoken point. ‘Listen, I’m flying in to London the week after next. Are you—’

  Cassie’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Kelly, you can’t!’

  There was a pause. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because that will increase the risk of miscarrying. Even I know that!’

  There was a heavy silence as Cassie realized she’d missed Kelly’s cue, broken their cardinal rule.

  ‘Cass, you promised,’ Kelly said stonily. ‘It doesn’t help me to have you fighting me too.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just—’ She bit her lip, physically restraining herself from saying anything more, even though she practically vibrated from suppressed frustration. ‘Sorry.’

  Kelly inspected her nails. ‘Besides, there’s no actual evidence that flying increases the risk; it’s nothing compared to what my own body can do to this baby.’ For a second Kelly’s face crumpled, every muscle contracting from the sheer force it took to hold back emotions stronger than hope. ‘Obviously I wouldn’t fly if it didn’t happen,’ she said in a voice so tiny it was only the fact that her lips were moving that convinced Cassie she’d heard it at all.

  Kelly fussed with her drink, struggling for composure as Cassie hated herself from her spot on her sofa 3,500 miles away. How could she have been so tactless? She’d made a promise.

  ‘So anyway, are you free on the Thursday?’ Kelly tried again.

  Cassie automatically went to nod ‘yes’, but pulled a face halfway through. ‘Oh crap. Actually, I’m not sure. Possibly. I said I’d go to Cornwall with Suze and Arch for a bit, to help out with Velvet.’

  Suzy had been wearing her down on
the issue ever since Henry had left, although Cassie wasn’t sure if it was in response to Cassie’s utter dejection at the manner of Henry’s departure – and his ultimatum – or Suzy’s own growing panic at the thought of living cheek-by-jowl with Gem. Either way, Cassie had found herself somehow talked into a week’s haitus, with the ‘possibility’of staying longer.

  ‘Suze doesn’t know how taken up she’s going to be with Archie yet and I’m worried she’s going to murder her cousin.’

  ‘Oh. Well, never mind.’ Kelly shrugged, but her disappointment was evident.

  ‘But look, let me see, OK? Nothing’s firmed up yet. What are you coming over for, anyway?’

  ‘Bebe’s up for Best International Designer at the BFAs.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Cassie grimaced. ‘So you really do need some backup.’

  ‘God knows what she’ll be like once she’s raided her hotel minibar,’ Kelly groaned. ‘I’ll be babysitting a monster.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Cassie thought hard. ‘Do you know what, even if I am down there, I could probably get back for the night anyway. I think there are regular flights from Newquay, which is nearby. I’m driving down with Suze, but I could maybe fly back early.’

  ‘OK, well let me know. It would be good to see you, and . . .’ She hesitated. ‘Well, I would imagine you’re going to need to cry on my shoulder as much as I’m going to cry on yours. Sometimes even vodka isn’t enough, am I right?’

  Cassie frowned, puzzled. She sensed they had moved topic. ‘Huh?’

  Kelly gave a tense laugh. ‘Wow, OK, so maybe not then. You really are over it.’

  Cassie’s frown deepened. ‘Over what? What are you talking about?’

  The smile disappeared from Kelly’s face. ‘Well, Gil and Wiz, of course.’

  The distance between them contracted at the mention of her former husband and friend’s names, all the air in the room sucked out in a vacuum so that Cassie felt her face was pressed to the screen as she waited for clarity. ‘What about them?’