by Sandie Jones
Jack had laughed. ‘Well, I’m afraid you’re going to be bitterly disappointed, because if you think he’s had any control over what’s happening, dare I say, you’re being a little naive.’
She’d taken his comment with a pinch of salt, but a lot can change in forty-eight hours and now she’s wondering if that’s exactly what she’s being. Who else would automatically believe that a text message sent to their husband, saying ‘Can’t wait to see you’ would be from his brother?
Paige wouldn’t have, for sure. She would have strung Noah up by his testicles until he told her the truth.
As she follows the sign welcoming Will and Ali’s guests, she can’t help but wonder if she’s being taken for a fool.
‘Wow,’ says Paige, as she heads through a quaint arch that’s decorated with blossoming bougainvillea, its vivid fuchsia petals trailing all the way to the ground.
They walk through to the garden where shimmering fairy lights illuminate the trunks of two tall palm trees, making them look like miniature helter-skelters. Candlelit lanterns hang from branches of cork trees and a gentle glockenspiel tune rings out from the chimes swaying in the breeze.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ says Ali happily.
‘Olá bonita’ calls out a bearded man as he emerges from a low-rise white stucco building. He opens his arms wide as he rushes to embrace Ali, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘Como está a noiva?’ he says excitedly.
‘Erm . . .’ Ali giggles, turning to look wide-eyed at Will.
Will laughs as he shakes the man’s hand. ‘He’s asking how the bride is.’
‘Oh,’ says Ali. ‘Good, I’m really good.’
‘Paulo,’ says Will warmly, pulling the man in for a bear hug. ‘How have you been?’
‘Very good. Very busy,’ says Paulo, the unfamiliar words sounding short and clipped on his Portuguese tongue.
‘It’s stunning,’ says Will, looking around the walled garden. ‘Thank you.’
Rachel follows his eyes to the open lilies that are laying serenely in a troughed water feature, the stillness reflecting the twinkling lights from the trees.
‘Your guest, she is here already,’ says Paulo as he ushers them towards the doorway of the restaurant.
‘That’ll be my mother,’ says Ali, laughing. ‘I’ll put money on it. She wouldn’t have been able to wait.’
‘Yes, I think so,’ says Paulo smiling. ‘We have had a drink already.’
‘That’s definitely my mum,’ says Ali.
It’s not until she’s in the restaurant that Rachel shivers, as her body registers the change in temperature from outside. Jack notices, putting an arm around her and rubbing her bare arm. It takes all her willpower not to recoil from his touch that suddenly feels sullied.
As if sensing there’s more than just the chill in the air, Jack takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘You okay?’ he asks.
Rachel can’t manage anything more than a nod as her brain goes into freefall, wondering what he must think of her. Does he see her as the faithful, docile wife who just sits at home waiting for him to come in from work? Is he bored by the banal conversation in which she has nothing more to offer than telling him who she bumped into in Blackheath village when she picked up the lamb chops from the butcher’s?
She’s become complacent, believing that putting a good dinner in front of Jack every night would be enough to keep him on side. But she can see now that he needs more; he wants a woman with a bit more get up and go. An ambitious streak. A desire to carve a niche out for herself, rather than relying on him for her emotional, practical and financial needs.
She swallows hard. ‘I was thinking, when I get home, I’d like to start my teacher training.’ She looks at him, expecting to see a renewed sense of respect in his eyes, but they’re devoid of anything. How long have they been like that?
‘What would you want to do that for?’ he asks, looking around, preoccupied by trying to find the quickest way of getting a drink.
‘I just think now would be a good time to pick it up again, seeing as Josh is off doing his own thing.’
‘But that’s why I work as hard as I do,’ says Jack. ‘So that you don’t have to.’
‘I know, and I’m grateful, but I just think it’s time to do something of my own. I want to do something of my own.’
He takes two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and hands one to her. ‘Is this because of today?’ he asks.
She clenches her insides, unable to believe he’s going to go there again.
‘Life’s too short and all that . . .’ he says, laughing, as if what happened to Noah was some kind of joke.
‘Darling!’ calls out a woman, emerging from behind a pillar in a wheelchair.
‘Mum!’ shrieks Ali, rushing towards her, almost falling onto her lap to hug her.
‘Oh, darling, you look absolutely gorgeous.’
Ali straightens herself back up and pulls at the various pieces of Lycra that are just about stopping her from being arrested for indecent exposure. ‘Do you really think so?’ Ali asks, forever looking for a compliment, even from her own mother, it seems.
Rachel hears an exaggerated sigh behind her and knows that it’s Paige without even needing to look around.
‘You always look beautiful,’ says Ali’s mother, looking intently at her daughter, as if really trying to drill the words home. Rachel can’t help but notice her reaching for Ali’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. The genuine warmth between the pair of them is unmistakable.
‘Mum,’ says Ali, ‘this is Will’s brother.’
‘Ah, Jack,’ she says, not needing a formal introduction, it seems.
Ali smiles tightly as she looks at Jack. ‘This is my mum, Maria.’
Jack takes Maria’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ he says, in that false voice he puts on whenever he meets someone new.
It had amused Rachel the first time she’d noticed that slight change in intonation when she introduced him to some friends a few months after they’d started dating.
‘Where on earth did the posh voice come from?’ she’d asked afterwards.
‘What do you mean?’ he’d said, seemingly unaware that he’d come across as anything other than how he normally did.
‘There was a complete key change,’ she’d commented, through fits of laughter. ‘And since when have you dotted your i’s and crossed your t’s?’
‘I always speak nicely,’ he’d said, having already discarded the plumminess that had cushioned his vowels and consonants just a few moments before.
‘Not like that!’ Rachel scoffed. ‘You sounded like you’d come straight from Eton.’
‘I can’t help it if I was privately educated,’ he said, smiling. ‘But class and etiquette are instilled from birth – you can’t buy it.’
Rachel had shaken her head. ‘Yet you seem to have spent a fortune on condescension.’
He’d stuck his tongue out at her, but he still continued to put ‘the voice’ on whenever he met a stranger; at least until he knew them a bit better.
‘It’s good to finally have a face to put to the name,’ says Maria. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
Rachel wishes that she could replay it, as she’s sure the word ‘lot’ was emphasized.
‘All good, I presume,’ says Jack, laughing nervously.
Maria doesn’t answer; she just looks him up and down with a look of . . . Rachel doesn’t know what. Is it disdain or a silent appreciation and understanding? She can’t quite put her finger on it.
‘And this is Rachel,’ says Ali.
‘Ah, I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you,’ says Maria, grabbing hold of both Rachel’s hands and wrapping them in hers. ‘After everything that Ali’s said about you, I half-expected you to have a shining halo above your head.’ She cocks her head to the side and squints her eyes. ‘In fact, I think I can see it,’ she says, smiling warmly.
Rachel is so overwhelmed by the genuine compassion
she feels from this stranger, that there’s an unexpected choke at the back of her throat.
Ali had told her about her mother’s car accident five years ago, but Rachel wishes she’d asked more questions, and is now riddled with guilt for not showing more of an interest at the time, instead of writing the conversation off as another of Ali’s over-exaggerated stories. The admission shames her.
‘It’s really lovely to meet you too,’ says Rachel. ‘How was the trip over here?’
‘Well, while you enjoyed the relative luxury of British Airways, we had to endure the indignity of Ryanair,’ Maria laughs. ‘Who seem to have taken the idea of a budget airline to a whole new level. I think I might have been more comfortable in the baggage hold.’
‘We did all right,’ says a man, chortling as he comes up behind her with a glass of rosé. He extends a hand to Jack. ‘I’m Ken, by the way. Maria’s long-suffering husband.’
‘Hi Ken – I’m Jack and this is my wife Rachel.’ There’s that fake voice again. ‘And these are our good friends, Paige and Noah.’
They all mutter their hellos and good wishes until there’s a natural lull. ‘So,’ says Rachel, always keen to fill an uncomfortable silence. ‘Doesn’t it look lovely in here?’ She looks around for Ali, who, for all her faults, could never be accused of humdrum conversation.
She’s over by the door, hugging Bob and Val, Will and Jack’s parents. Even that simple gesture grates on Rachel more than it ever would have done before.
Maybe it’s me, she thinks as Val fondly squeezes Ali’s cheek like she’s a five-year-old. Maybe I’m the one with a problem.
As she watches Ali link arms with Val and lead her over towards them, she can’t help but feel replaced in Val’s affections. They’d always had a good relationship, but it had meant even more since Rachel had lost her own mum a few years ago. She looked forward to their monthly shopping trips and the occasional afternoon tea they treated themselves to every once in a while. But now, Val has a new daughter-in-law to do those nice things with.
Once Ali’s deposited Val safely beside Maria like a dutiful daughter-in-law, she heads back to the door and shrieks with excitement as she welcomes more guests.
‘Sam! You’re here!’ she says, throwing herself at an impossibly good-looking young man, whilst his girlfriend stands beside them, looking – to Rachel – to be grinning with gritted teeth.
Could it be that that’s just the way Ali is with everyone? Albeit there’s no mistaking that she’s definitely more like it with men. But there’s nothing wrong with that; it just makes her a man’s woman. It doesn’t mean she’s jumping into bed with every guy she sees – including your husband, Rachel says to herself, as if she’s talking to a third party. It just means that she’s more comfortable in their company than that of a woman. When Rachel says it like that in her head, it sounds perfectly plausible. That’s not a crime – there are plenty of women like that, though Paige will gladly cook you over the spit roast if you dare to say so.
As if on cue, using the commotion at the door as a distraction, Paige sidles up to Rachel. ‘Do you think all of her friends are going to be versions of her?’
Rachel watches a blonde girl edge herself unsurely through the door, almost as if she’s apologizing for being there, even before she’s arrived. Her eyes flit around the room and a palpable resignation seems to course its way through her as she forces herself to accept that what she’s seeing isn’t what she’d hoped for.
‘Apparently not,’ Paige goes on as she watches the same woman hover at the entrance. ‘Talk about chalk and cheese.’
Rachel’s sure Paige doesn’t mean it unkindly, but for all the ‘every woman is equal’ crap she spouts, she’s the first to point out the differences in their appearance.
The woman, dressed in a floor-skimming red dress, sees Maria and waves hesitantly, but continues to wait patiently in line to greet Ali, pushing her glasses up her nose as she does so.
‘I don’t think our lady of the moment is going to be too impressed by her friend’s dress choice, do you?’ says Paige, with a detectable frisson of anticipation.
‘Chrissy!’ exclaims Ali, throwing her arms around her friend. ‘Hey girl, we’re winning at twinning.’ Ali pulls herself away and stands beside her. ‘Sam!’ she calls out to the man from the group who came in before. ‘Look, we’re twins! Take a photo!’
‘Oh, that’s wicked,’ says Paige, looking on.
‘What is?’ asks Rachel, as Jack hands her another glass of champagne, even though she’s not yet finished the first.
‘Saying they look like twins and making her have her photo taken,’ Paige goes on.
‘Her friend doesn’t look unhappy,’ says Rachel, watching the pair of them gurning into the camera lens.
‘Maybe not, but you can tell Ali’s put out about her wearing the same colour,’ says Paige. ‘Though, it’s not as if they bear any resemblance.’
Rachel can’t decide whether it’s meant to be a put-down or backhanded compliment.
‘Cheers!’ says Noah, as he raises his glass in the air. ‘Here’s to the happy couple.’
‘I thought you weren’t drinking?’ admonishes Rachel.
‘How does it feel to have your mother out with you?’ Jack says, laughing, to Noah.
Noah’s jaw spasms involuntarily.
‘I’m just going to have the one,’ says Noah, ignoring him.
‘I’ll make sure of it,’ says Paige. ‘After what happened today, I’ll be keeping an extra close eye on him.’ She kisses Noah softly on the cheek and looks at him in a way that Rachel’s not seen her do in years.
‘Bloody hell, perhaps I should go drown myself,’ says Jack. ‘If it gets you this kind of attention from the ladies.’
‘It looked like you were giving it a good go,’ says Paige. ‘But you didn’t quite carry it off with the aplomb of my husband.’
‘Oh, he went for it, for sure,’ says Jack, laughing. ‘I’ve never seen anyone bail under a wave as easily as he did. It wasn’t even that big. It was an ankle buster. I even said that to you, didn’t I?’ Jack knocks back the champagne in his glass and takes another from a passing waiter.
‘Was that when we were paddling towards it?’ asks Noah, through narrow eyes. ‘Or when it was smashing me into the seabed on a spin cycle?’
Jack stares at him as he empties another glass.
‘But I don’t understand why you left Will and ignored Jack when he told you to come back,’ says Rachel.
Noah shakes his head and laughs sarcastically.
‘I thought you said Jack told you to follow him?’ says Paige with a furrowed brow.
Rachel’s throat constricts and her mouth goes dry. She looks from Noah to Jack and back again.
‘Wow!’ says Jack. ‘Are you really going to try and pin this on me?’
‘I didn’t ignore anyone’s instructions,’ Noah says to Rachel. ‘I followed them.’
10
Despite feeling as though the restaurant is shrouded in a Jack-shaped black cloud, Rachel does her best to ignore it over dinner, throwing herself into conversation with the couple seated to her left.
‘So, do you think you will start training, now that your son has left home?’ asks John, who Rachel has learnt is married to Ali’s cousin Kimberley. She has no idea why she’s told them about her simmering desire to teach, though she guesses she was looking for the encouragement she didn’t receive from Jack earlier. That, and the copious amount of wine she’s drunk since.
‘It’s certainly something I’d love to do,’ says Rachel. ‘I don’t feel like I’ll ever forgive myself if I don’t at least give it a go.’ It’s definitely the drink talking now because, as much as she knows it to be true, she also doubts she’s fearless enough to follow it through.
‘I’m so impressed with you ladies,’ says Kimberley, leaning in. ‘I wish I had a bit more ambition.’
‘You can do anything you put your mind to,’ says John, putting his hand over hers.
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‘Yes, but that requires confidence,’ says Kimberley. ‘I mean, just look at everything Ali’s achieved. I’m in awe of her, and a little bit jealous, but I could never do what she does in a million years.’
‘Of course you could,’ encourages John.
‘She has meetings with David Friedman,’ Kimberley exclaims. ‘I could never do that.’
‘Well, I know she works for his company,’ butts in Rachel, keen for Kimberley not to get too carried away putting Ali on a pedestal she doesn’t belong on. ‘But I’m not sure she has any close contact with him.’
‘They’re like that,’ says Kimberley, crossing her fingers. ‘He was supposed to be here, but something came up at the last minute.’
Rachel doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘She said David Friedman was going to come to her wedding?’
‘Yes,’ says Kimberley proudly, without a hint of scepticism.
‘Uh-oh, talk of the devil,’ says John. ‘Here comes trouble.’
‘Oi you,’ says Ali, leaning in to give him a hug. She’s lost enough inhibitions not to worry about holding onto the top of her dress anymore, but Rachel still has a few left and finds herself constantly wanting to reach out to protect her modesty.
‘I’m sorry I’ve not had a chance to talk to you properly yet,’ says Ali, as she kisses Kimberley. ‘How are you?’
‘Good,’ says Kimberley, smiling. ‘This is wonderful. You look so happy.’
‘I am,’ says Ali. ‘I can’t wait until tomorrow when we’ll finally be husband and wife.’
‘It’s so exciting that you’re about to embark on this new chapter.’
‘I know,’ says Ali, with a smug expression. ‘I can’t believe I got so lucky.’
‘You deserve it,’ says Kimberley, putting her hand on top of Ali’s. ‘After everything you’ve been through.’
Rachel waits, ears pricked up, hoping for someone to elaborate. It might help explain why Ali’s like she is.
‘It’s been a long time coming,’ says Ali, sighing. ‘But it finally feels as if my life is back on track.’
Kimberley nods. ‘It’s all about looking forward now,’ she says. ‘The future’s exciting. A new husband and, God willing, children.’
