Kate's Wedding (27 page)

Chapter Forty-Six

Upon hearing Melanie’s revelation, Kate looked up from her paper tissue in confusion.

‘Really? But . . . ?’

‘I know. The official line is that my husband passed away. I never actually offer the information unless I’m asked, and if I am asked, I decline to go into it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because how do you think it would be for business? A bridal-wear salon run by a woman who came to believe that marriage is just about the biggest con ever known to womankind.’

‘Then why did you do it? Get married, I mean.’

‘I was twenty-one. I was in love.’

‘And why did you divorce?’

‘For pretty much the same reasons you’re talking about. I just got tired of having to do it all on my own. Running the shop all day, then going home and doing all the housework, the cooking. Making all the plans for our social life. Keeping my family happy. Keeping his family happy. And getting in return? Well, I didn’t think I was getting a fair deal, let’s put it that way. I didn’t even have the baby I’d always wanted. I made the decision the weekend Princess Diana died. I think her death made a lot of people realise that life’s too bloody short. Do you remember what you were doing the weekend Diana died?’

Kate found a smile at last. ‘I’d rather not.’

‘My husband and I were in Paris, on a make-or-break weekend. Funny, eh? Thing was, it had been going OK up until the moment we got the news about Diana. Having married on the same day as Diana and Charles, I’d followed her progress, even idolised her, I suppose. So hearing that she died felt like losing a personal friend. Keith didn’t seem to understand that and so I decided that he would never understand me.’

‘And so you divorced him.’

‘Yes, and it was great. For the first time in my life I got to do exactly what I wanted. I had my bedroom painted pink. I went on holiday to all the places Keith never wanted to go. I started dancing again. I dated quite a few men. I’d never slept with anyone except my husband. Going to bed with a different man, that was quite an eye-opener, let me tell you.’

‘And now?’

Melanie dabbed at her eyes and didn’t answer the question. Instead, she said, ‘Marriage is not for everyone. You’ve got this far without needing to be anyone’s missus. Maybe you could go through your whole life like that. Some of the girls that come in here, I know that marriage will be the making of them. They
want
to nurture someone. They get their sense of worth from taking care of other people. They are quite happy to have a husband who’ll end up being like an extra child, which is lucky because so many of them do, but you . . . If you’re going to do this at all, you need it to be a proper partnership. That’s obvious to me. You need to decide if you can have that with your fiancé.’

‘It’s too late to find out whether I’m in a proper partnership or not. I’ve got to do it now. The venue is booked for two days’ time.’

‘You know Princess Diana didn’t want to get married, not after she found out about Camilla. She told her sisters she wanted out, but they said to her, “It’s too late, Duch. Your face is on the tea towels.” Your face is not on any tea towels, but even if it were, you can say, “I don’t,” right up until you say, “I do.” I bloody wish Diana’s sisters had told her that.’

‘Can you imagine the fallout?’

‘Would probably have seemed like a storm in a teacup compared with the furore surrounding her death . . . Would you like a cup of tea?

‘I didn’t think cups of tea were allowed in Bride on Time. All that white material.’

‘I trust you not to spill it,’ said Melanie. ‘You are a grown woman, after all.’

Over tea, Melanie told Kate more about her marriage.

Melanie met her darling Keith at a youth club. She had seen him around plenty of times when they were growing up, though he went to the rougher school on the other side of town. She had never spoken to him until the summer of her thirteenth birthday, when her parents decreed that she was allowed to stay out until nine at night so long as she stuck to organised activities.

Keith was sitting on his bicycle outside the youth club when Melanie arrived with her friends from school. They swept past him as haughtily as three supermodels sashaying past the red rope at a nightclub, but Bernice couldn’t keep her composure for long. She burst into giggles, and when Melanie reprimanded her for ruining their illusion of cool, Bernice made things a hundred times worse by saying, ‘Well, you fancy him,’ with reference to Keith, who was now chewing on a matchstick like a very young Marlon Brando.

Their courtship progressed in typical teenage fashion with both of them denying that they liked each other at all. They protested that they hated each other, in fact. Keith drew an unflattering picture of Melanie in Magic Marker on the whitewashed wall of the boys’ toilets. She found out from Bernice’s brother. Melanie retaliated by writing, ‘Keith likes boys,’ on a cubicle wall in the ladies’. She was caught in the act and had to spend a Saturday afternoon repainting. When she protested that she would never have stooped to graffiti had Keith Harris not drawn that picture of her first, Keith was also roped in to make amends. It was while they were painting that they finally got talking. While they were cleaning paintbrushes, Keith chanced a kiss and the rest was history. When the new school term began, Melanie was proud to be able to tell her friends that she had a real boyfriend.

Melanie lost her virginity to Keith when she was sixteen. He promised her that day that they would be together until they were old. He was going to marry her the moment he could get her father’s permission. He kept his promise. He asked Melanie’s father for her hand on her eighteenth birthday. He proposed to her at her birthday party in front of all of their friends. They married in 1981 and stayed married for sixteen years. No children, Melanie sighed.

Not a day went by when Melanie didn’t think of Keith in some context or another. All in all, they were together for almost twenty-five years. When someone is part of your life for that long, then it’s inevitable that you’re reminded of them at every turn.

Melanie hadn’t seen Keith since 1999, when he turned up at her father’s funeral. Melanie hadn’t invited him. He said his mother had read the death notice in the local paper and told him when the cremation was being held. At the time, Melanie had told him that he wasn’t welcome, that her father wouldn’t have wanted Keith there after he let her down so badly, but that wasn’t true. Melanie’s father had been on Keith’s side to the end. He’d told Melanie that he couldn’t understand what was wrong with her, casting off Keith’s love for some feminist ideal.

‘Why didn’t you just ask him to do the washing-up more often?’

Now, nearly twelve years later, Melanie saw Keith’s gesture – turning up at the funeral like that – for what it really was. It was kind and thoughtful. It was his attempt to let her know that if she needed support, she still had his.

But Melanie didn’t even know where Keith was any more. She had seen in the paper that his father had died too. She hadn’t gone along to the funeral. Keith’s mother definitely wouldn’t have been pleased to see her. Now she wasn’t sure Keith was still in Southampton. None of her friends had seen him in years. At least, they hadn’t mentioned it to Melanie if they had.

‘Looking back, I wonder if we could have made it work. Was it just the idea of marriage, rather than our marriage, that was driving me insane? It’s possible that it’s not Ian who’s making you feel like this, Kate. It’s centuries and centuries of conditioning. It’s the way his mother and father were around each other and the way their parents were around them. It’s everything you see on television. It’s every novel you read. It’s every celebrity who announces that giving up her film career to cook his dinner was the best move she ever made. There’s so much pressure on us to do it all, have it all, then don the white dress and give it all up.’

‘That’s exactly how I feel.’

‘I blamed Keith for so many things that were completely beyond his power to change. It was easier to get rid of him than to try to make him understand. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. But it’s a big decision you’ve got to make, my love. I don’t envy you in the slightest, but you mustn’t think that it’s impossible. I believe that you can have a marriage and still hold on to you what matters to you, so long as you really want it.’

‘How will I know if I really want it?’

‘You’ve got all the information you need inside. Right here.’ Melanie thumped her fist against her chest. ‘You’ll make the right decision.’

Kate drove to Matt’s house. The curtains were drawn and the place looked empty. She got out her phone and was about to send him a text when she saw a car pull up across the road. In the driver’s seat was a small, dark-haired woman. She jumped out of the car and went round to the back to unbuckle two child seats.

Matt came to the door. He looked nervous as the woman ushered the children up the driveway. The children wrapped themselves round their father, but he barely seemed to notice them. He was watching their mother get back into her car. Kate could see in his expression that Rosie still held his heart in her hands. Matt was not going to be her future. He never had been. Kate decided not to let him know she was ever there. She had to go home and think very carefully about her next move. She looked at her phone, hoping for some kind of message from Ian that would convince her the happiness she’d felt on the day they got engaged could come back again. There were still more than thirty-six hours. All she needed was a sign.

Chapter Forty-Seven

At last the day of the royal wedding arrived.

‘Can you imagine what it’s like at the palace this morning?’ Kate’s mother observed as her daughter finally emerged to have her breakfast. ‘I don’t suppose Mrs Middleton has had a proper night’s sleep in a month thinking of this morning. At least she doesn’t have to worry about the flowers and the catering. But she’s giving her daughter up to that family! She must be wondering if she’ll ever really see her again.’

‘I don’t think Prince William will ban the Middletons from Buckingham Palace,’ said Kate.

‘His grandmother might. It’s one thing her grandson getting married to a commoner . . . Poor Mrs Middleton must be feeling sick. She’s got to walk into that abbey with the eyes of the world upon her. They’re going to be pulling her outfit apart. I found it hard enough to decide what to wear for tomorrow and I don’t have to think about how it’ll look in the
Daily Mail
.’

‘What about Mr Middleton?’ asked Kate as her father shuffled into the room.

‘I imagine he’s just happy somebody’s taking his Kate off his hands,’ said John. ‘I know I am.’

‘Thanks, Dad. I’m not quite off your hands yet.’

John gave her a squeeze to confirm that he was joking.

‘Well, I never thought I’d get to see this day – Diana’s little boy getting married and my own little girl going to do the same tomorrow morning.’

Kate called Ian.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Watching the wedding. Mum is looking for tips on how to behave when she meets your posh family en masse.’

‘Tell her that Auntie Jean must be addressed as “HRH”.’

‘Aren’t you watching the wedding?’

‘No, I’m going for a walk. I feel like I’m completely wedding-ed out after the past six months.’

‘Just one more day to go, Miss Williamson.’

One more day. Just over twenty-four hours, in fact.

‘Your face is on the tea towels, Duch,’ echoed in Kate’s mind. It was too late to do anything but go through with it now, right?

Over at the Ashcroft household, Diana and her mother were watching the royal wedding in an altogether more critical frame of mind. It was as though the royal wedding was a dry run for their big day. Diana wanted to see whether Kate had her hair up or down. She was still undecided about her own do. Susie wanted to see Mrs Middleton’s outfit, of course. As it happened, she approved.

‘Good colour. I like it. Very elegant and restrained,’ was Susie’s verdict.

‘Not at all like a stewardess’s outfit,’ Diana said.

‘I’m still convinced I worked alongside her on a flight to Bahrain,’ Susie commented as the mother of the bride walked into Westminster Abbey. Susie had enjoyed a very brief career as an air hostess before she met Dave and her plan to marry a pilot and move to the Home Counties was scuppered.

Diana perused the faces of the guests.

‘It must be really tedious, having to have all those politicians as your guests. Who do you think that is?’ Diana pointed at a woman who was veritably waddling down the aisle.

‘That might be the queen of Tonga,’ said Susie. ‘The king of Tonga had to have a specially made seat when Diana married Charles. It took eight men to lift it or something like that. I remember thinking that I would need eight men to lift me too if you didn’t finally make an appearance. You were two weeks over your due date, you were. Nothing made any difference. You just weren’t going to come out until you were good and ready.’

‘I was listening for Kiri Te Kanawa. I was waiting to make my grand entrance,’ said Diana.

‘You certainly were.’

While the live television cameras waited for the bride and her father to arrive in their limousine, the television footage flipped back to 1981.

‘Ugh. I can never see those bridesmaids without thinking about the excruciating pain of childbirth,’ said Susie. ‘I can almost feel the tearing pain . . .’

‘Mum, please. I’m trying to eat a sandwich.’

‘Sorry, love.’

The television showed the guests in the abbey again.

‘I think it was a mistake, don’t you, inviting ordinary people?’ said Diana. ‘I mean, what is that woman wearing? She must be a charity worker.’

‘I think she’s a duchess, actually,’ Susie pointed out.

‘Well, she doesn’t know how to dress . . . Oh, if only Ben had a military uniform,’ sighed Diana as a man in naval uniform found his way to his seat. ‘He’d look great in a jacket like that. Do you think you can hire them?’