Stand by Your Man

by Gil McNeil

  We’ve got to do the signing-the-register thing now, and the photographer’s lurking. Charles is carrying Mabel, who’s almost asleep.

  ‘You look lovely, and you were right about those shoes. The other ones were nice, but those are better.’

  ‘Actually, they’re killing me at the moment, so I might have to get the other ones from the car. Where’s Ezra?’

  ‘Outside, waiting for Alfie.’

  ‘Great. Well, we’ve just got to do photographs and then we can all go and get something to eat. I’m starving – I was too nervous to eat much earlier.’

  The reception and the food are lovely. Wedding food can be so boring, but the hotel has come up with a huge buffet breakfast, in a trendy brunch rather than a Little Chef kind of a way: bacon, sausages, kedgeree, even porridge. Actually, Alfie and Ezra have had a competition to see who could eat the most porridge, which I’m not really sure was the best idea in the world, and I’ve eaten so much I’ve had to undo one of the buttons on my skirt.

  ‘You look great in that outfit. It really suits you.’

  ‘Oh thanks, Moll.’

  ‘It was a lovely service, I thought, and Alfie did really well.’

  ‘All thanks to you and Mel Gibson.’

  ‘Happy to help. Oh god, Jack’s off again. He just wants to walk all the time now. You can’t get him to sit still for more than five minutes, and Lily keeps teaching him new words. She was trying to get him to say bugger the other day.’

  ‘Doreen will love that. Has he stopped saying puke yet?’

  ‘No, but only me and Dan notice it really, and Janice. It’s so annoying at mealtimes – he says it all the time.’

  ‘Well, give him to me then – it might come in handy in a minute. I think I might have eaten a bit too much.’

  Jim and Stella come over, looking very pleased with themselves.

  ‘So you did it then?’

  ‘Yup. Looks like it.’

  ‘Happy?’

  ‘Blissed out, to be honest. And thanks.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Oh for being my clever little sister and stopping Mum from driving us completely round the bend. And for getting Alfie to wear his kilt. You win the best bridesmaid award, definitely, doesn’t she, Stella?’

  ‘Yes. Really. Thank you, it was all just perfect. Just how we wanted it.’

  ‘My pleasure. God, I’m going to miss you both.’

  ‘Oh don’t you start, you’ll set Mum off again.’

  Telling Mum about Jim’s big new job in Boston was a total nightmare. His company are paying for him to move out there to run their American office, and they’re getting him a house and everything, but they’d only pay for Stella if they were married. We told Mum about the wedding first to distract her, but it didn’t help much and it still took us nearly an hour to calm her down.

  ‘It’s not that far, you know. You can come over, and we’ll come back, and I’ll have meetings in London all the time.’

  ‘I know, but it still feels like a big deal.’

  ‘Stop it right now.’

  ‘I’m coming to the airport, you know. I don’t care what you say. I’m coming.’

  Jim gives me a really sweet look.

  ‘Just promise you won’t bring Mum.’

  ‘Do I look that daft? Why on earth would I bring Mum and have the whole place in an uproar when she goes into hysterics? Charles will keep Alfie and I’ll come by myself. Just me, and a wet hanky.’

  ‘Alice.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘If you don’t stop it right now I’m going to have to give you a Chinese burn, and don’t think I won’t, just because I’m in this get-up. I know what you’re up to, you know. You’re just trying to divert attention away from the fact that you’re still refusing to do the decent thing and give Mum the wedding she’s really been waiting for. You’ll be next. Once you and old Charlie boy stop playing squires and peasants, you’ll be the next one up the aisle.’

  ‘Oh no I won’t. Mum’s had her family wedding now, and that’ll have to do.’

  ‘Still my naughty little sister then?’

  ‘Definitely. And we’re not playing squires and peasants.’

  ‘He lives in the big house, you live down the lane in the little one. Squires and peasants. It’s obvious. What do you call it then?’

  ‘I call it a semi-detached relationship. Just how we like it.’

  ‘Semi-detached? Sounds more like a bungalow than a relationship.’

  ‘Well, it works for us.’

  Charles comes over.

  ‘Hello, squire. How’s it going?’

  Stella and I start to laugh.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He thinks he’s being funny. He thinks you’re being a snooty squire living in the big house, and I’m being the poor peasant stopping in mine. Just ignore him.’

  ‘I have asked her, you know. I want to make that perfectly clear. But she won’t have it. People in the village must think I’m a terrible bounder. I might put a notice in the parish newsletter: “To whom it may concern, I have asked her, but she keeps saying she likes things the way they are.” ’

  ‘But I do.’

  ‘I know. So do I.’

  ‘She’s always been stubborn, you know. It’s not like the good old days, is it? When women knew their place.’

  ‘Jim, do shut up. Please ignore my husband. Oh, I quite like saying that.’

  ‘Oh I see. Starting already, is it? Telling me to shut up in public.’

  ‘Yes. And I’ve been learning how to do Chinese burns. So watch it.’

  We gather on the steps of the hotel to wave them off on their honeymoon, and Stella tries very hard to throw her bouquet at me, and I have to hide behind a pillar. I can tell Mum’s watching me and shaking her head. Stella’s friend Gemma catches it in the end, which is good because she’s very keen on getting married, apparently, although her boyfriend gets a rather hunted look on his face when she walks towards him proudly clutching the flowers.

  We have another quick drink, and Mum says how well Alfie did, and wasn’t it all perfect, although she thinks Stella’s mum might have made a mistake going for fuchsia-pink, and then we round up the kids and drive home. Mabel falls asleep fairly quickly, while Alfie and Ezra sit listening to tapes on their Walkmans.

  ‘You don’t really mind, do you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘About us not living together. I mean I know we’ve talked about it, but I’d hate it if you secretly minded.’

  ‘No, I think you’re right.’

  Charles has a habit of not talking about things that really bother him. It’s like getting a limpet off a rock trying to get him to talk about his feelings. He tends to say he’s fine, even when it’s obvious that he’s not. And even when it comes to small things like the way he likes his coffee he doesn’t make a fuss. It took me nearly three months to work out he prefers it black. He just never said. It’s one of the things I really love about him. That he’s so relaxed. But it also drives me round the bend.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. And anyway the children have had enough to cope with. I mean obviously at some point I’d like us all to be living in the same house, but for now I think it’s fine.’

  ‘Fine?’

  ‘Sorry. I forgot you were allergic to fine. Fantastic. Brilliant.’

  ‘Good. Well, at least now we’ve got the wedding over with we can start panicking properly about Christmas.’

  ‘Just run it by me one more time, how we ended up with everyone coming to us.’

  ‘Look. I’ve said I’m sorry. Only we usually go to Mum, and with Jim away it’s even more important she sees us, but then your mum was so keen too and I didn’t have the heart not to ask her as well. I really didn’t mean to ask them both on the same day, honestly. But Lola’s not due until teatime, and your mother will have gone by then, so there shouldn’t be any awkward scenes or anything. And Mum and Dad have promised they’ll just ignore her, whatever s
he says.’

  ‘Famous last words.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘What if she starts ranting on again, like last time, about how badly behaved the children are or something?’

  ‘How nobody was fussing enough around her, more like.’

  ‘I know. But that’s what I mean. What if she starts? If she has a go at Alfie your mum will kill her. Actually, that might be rather good.’

  ‘Yes. But I don’t care. It’s Christmas, and the children will love it and I don’t care about anything else. And I’m going to get some spare presents for anyone she’s horrible to.’

  ‘You’d better get a lot of extra presents then.’

  ‘I know. What do you think we should get for her?’

  ‘Swastika armbands might be good. She could wear them to boss people about. I saw some in that catalogue you were showing me, with the dressing-up outfits. They had all sorts, nurses, policemen, everything.’

  ‘Yes, but not Nazis, Charles. Nobody buys their children Nazi dressing-up kits.’

  ‘Well, it’s my best idea so far, but I also thought of one of those giant slipper things that you put both feet in. I saw them in one of the catalogues, in all sorts of colours. I thought bright-yellow might be nice. It would look like a giant banana.’

  ‘You’re brilliant, do you know that? A giant yellow slipper. Perfect. And my dad gave my mum oven gloves once. She was quite pleased, but I always thought that was a particularly manky present, so maybe the children could get her some oven gloves. Actually, you know, I’ve been thinking, if you told me what your surprise present’s going to be that would be a big help. I could factor it in, sort of thing.’

  ‘You don’t think I’m going to fall for that, do you?’

  ‘You might.’

  ‘I’m not telling you. It’s a surprise.’

  Bugger. I really want to know. ‘You’ve got to tell me at some point.’

  ‘I do not.’

  ‘Yes you do. Because it might be another of your really bad ideas, like your brilliant plan to take us all fishing.’

  ‘Look, I thought you agreed you wouldn’t keep mentioning that. It was perfectly calm when we set off. You said so yourself.’

  ‘I never knew children actually contained that much sick.’

  ‘They would have loved it if it had stayed calm. You know they would.’

  ‘Well, at least none of them will ever be tempted to run away to sea.’

  Charles laughs.

  ‘Are you coming back with us tonight?’

  ‘No, I thought a quiet night in with Alfie, if you don’t mind. Talk him out of his kilt and have an early night. I’m knackered.’

  ‘All right, but come up for breakfast tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Molly rings when I’ve just settled down with a cup of tea and a nice little pile of digestives.

  ‘I thought the wedding was lovely.’

  ‘Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Did you get home all right?’

  ‘Fine. They both fell asleep in the back of the car. And then Dan and I had another fight about what to do for Christmas. Doreen’s still on at us to go to her, but then we’d have to go to Mum’s for New Year, and Dan really wants to be at home, with just us. I can’t make my mind up. Families are so complicated, aren’t they?’

  ‘Well, come to us for New Year, and bring your mum. We were talking about it the other day – we thought we’d have a sort of gathering on New Year’s Eve, just low-key, with everyone from the Garden Society. Mrs Bishop can make her famous mulled wine. What do you think?’

  ‘Sounds great to me. Oh well, that’s decided then, we’ll stay here. Your mum was on at me about telling you to get married again today. Did I say?’

  ‘Oh god, was she? Sorry.’

  ‘I told her I thought you’d got it pretty well worked out, actually. Never mind a room of your own, I want a house of my own too.’

  ‘I know, it’s the best of both worlds really.’

  ‘I’m not sure people should live together, you know. Not all the time.’

  ‘But you and Dan are still all right, aren’t you?’

  ‘Oh yes, we’re definitely back on track and everything. I don’t think about it much now, you know, all that stuff before Jack was born. It seems like years ago. But that doesn’t stop it feeling like bloody hard work sometimes. I think it was much easier when we all lived in caves and gathered berries. The women looked after the kids together, and when the men came home they all had a feast, and if they’d got eaten by a buffalo that was fine too. The problem is our hunters come home every night.’

  ‘I don’t think buffalo actually eat you, do they? They probably just squash you about a bit; that must be why buffalo mozzarella’s so bloody expensive. Milking a buffalo must be a bit dodgy. Actually, I’m not sure Charles would be very good at the hunter thing, to be honest – he’s a bit too squeamish. He tried to make steak-and-kidney pie last week but it ended up just steak because he said the kidneys were so revolting he couldn’t touch them.’

  ‘I don’t blame him. Dan wouldn’t be much cop either, come to think of it.’

  We arrange to meet up for coffee tomorrow, and I get back to my biscuits. Molly’s definitely much happier now, but I know she still finds it hard sometimes. I mentioned something the other day about when she was pregnant with Jack, and she said she couldn’t really remember much about it – she just remembers crying in the bath for hours.

  And if I ever mention Lola’s name, if I’m saying something about the children, or Lola’s latest visit or anything, she sort of flinches. Actually, I usually try to avoid mentioning Lola’s name, not that Molly’s said anything, but I can tell it still hurts. The echoes just go on and on. But they’re getting there, and that’s the main thing.

  Patric wasn’t too pleased when he found out about Charles, and we had a weird conversation where he said maybe we ought to consider giving it another go, for Alfie’s sake, and I said that for Alfie’s sake we probably shouldn’t. I think it was just sour grapes really.

  He still comes down every fortnight or so, and he’s almost civil to Charles. Although I’m a bit worried about Cindy, who seems to be getting more and more obsessed. It’s as if she thinks if she can just make everything perfect for him he’ll be happy. And the harder she tries the more he treats her like a doormat. If she doesn’t snap out of it soon Molly and I are going to send her on some sort of emergency assertiveness course.

  Charles has been a complete revelation, and it just keeps getting better. Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am. He’s calm and patient, and great with Alfie, but he’s also really passionate, and he makes me laugh. A lot. Although sometimes not on purpose, like when he tries to be masterful and macho and it all goes wrong. He tried to cut down one of the old trees behind the garden wall in the summer and nearly knocked himself out when a branch fell on him. He just isn’t that practical really. But he doesn’t sulk about it for weeks if it turns out you’re better at something than he is.

  And even though it’s complicated trying to work out my role with Ezra and Mabel, and how to handle Lola, who was furious when she found out and is still being pretty nightmarish, it’s definitely worth it. Definitely. Ezra seems happier, and much calmer, and Mabel’s a sweetheart most of the time, although she’s inherited her mother’s stubbornness, which can be a bit scary sometimes.

  But there’s no rush, and we can take our time working out what we’re going to do next. I love spending time back at our house, just me and Alfie, and I don’t think I ever want to give that up completely and get locked into coupledom for every minute of the day, every day of the week. But not because I’m not happy with Charles or trying to keep my options open or anything. I’m not looking for anyone else and I can’t see that changing. But there is room for me, and I like that. And me and Alfie. And Charles gets to spend time on his own with Ezra and Mabel, which they need, I think. Space. The final frontier, well, in relationships it is anyway. And I think w
e’ve almost cracked it, I really do.

  Christmas lunch is a triumph. It ends up being a bit of a team effort with Charles and Dad doing the vegetables, and Mum doing the gravy. And the turkey takes care of itself, once it’s in the oven, so all I have to do is set the table. The children have made all the decorations – with lots of paper chains and tinsel – which aren’t very elegant but we’re very proud of them. Ezra’s made a robin on a log, which he’s covered in glitter, even though it looks more like a dodgy vulture, and Alfie and Mabel have made angels out of pipe cleaners and white crêpe paper, which are dangling all over the place.

  It’s a bit more Blue Peter than Martha Stewart, but with the Christmas tree and the fairy lights it all looks very festive. Actually, I think I might have gone slightly overboard with the fairy lights. I even got some of the disco flashing ones that have different settings, at least two of which make you feel slightly sick if you watch them for too long.

  Em calls to say Happy Christmas, and says she really wishes she could come over to see us all. She’s eight months pregnant now, and getting slightly nervous. But at least it’s not twins. Luca is being great and his mum’s thrilled, and I’m going to go over when the baby’s born. I’ve arranged it with Luca, as a surprise, and Charles is going to come too. Mum says she’ll stay with the children so we can have a nice little break. I’m really looking forward to it, and I can’t wait to see the baby.

  The really major success of the day is Charles’s surprise present, which arrives in a large wicker basket, which his father carries in from the car. The children guess what it is before he’s even got it in the house. It’s a small but very noisy Labrador puppy, a distant relation of a dog Charles had when he was little. The children are ecstatic.

  ‘I know, but before you say anything it can stay here with us, and I’ll do all the cleaning up and everything. And we’ve had him checked out by the vet, and he’s already had all his injections, and he’ll be good-natured and easy to train.’

  ‘Right.’

  Alfie’s delirious.

  ‘Oh thank you. Thank you for ever.’

  They all crowd round the puppy and stroke him. He’s wagging his tail so hard he’s almost falling over, and he keeps making little excited yelping noises.