Made in Heaven (49 page)

There he was. He was waving at her and smiling and he looked so handsome. Zannah waved back and when he reached her, she allowed him to hug her, feeling sick and treacherous, and also acknowledging that she still fancied him like mad, and wanted him to kiss her. She didn't stop him, but allowed herself to kiss him back, perhaps with not as much abandon as she would normally have shown.

All the time they'd been walking to the car, the talk had been inconsequential. Meaningless. When they set off, with Zannah driving, Adrian kept chatting away about the flight, the food, the movies. He asked after
his mother. Then he phoned her on his mobile and Zannah was relieved to hear him arranging to go down to Guildford on Saturday. He'll have the perfect person to talk to about how horrible I am, she thought. Maureen'll cheer him up. I'll have to speak to her before then, though. On the phone? In person? Would the head allow me another day off to go and see her? She probably won't want to see me.

‘Mum says would you like to come down there on Saturday as well? It'd be great, wouldn't it? I've said I'll go down … Hope that's okay?'

Zannah nodded and searched her mind for what to tell Adrian … What bits of news could she offer in return for his scraps about New York and how great it was? He chattered on, then turned to her. ‘You're very quiet, Zannah. Anything wrong?'

‘No … Well … ' Why couldn't she lie convincingly?

‘Tell me.'

‘At the flat. It's not the kind of thing you talk about when you're driving.'

‘God, that sounds ominous. You're the boss. If it's okay with you, I'll just close my eyes. Still the middle of the night for me. Right?'

‘Yes, fine.'

He fell asleep at once and Zannah drove on, rehearsing different ways of saying what she had to say.

Once they were in the flat, everything was a little easier. Adrian put down his cases and she went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. What would people do without tea at times like this? When she brought the tray out into the living room, he was sitting on the sofa.

‘Can we have it at the table?' Zannah asked. She wanted to avoid the possibility that he'd put his arms round her. ‘It's more convenient.'

‘Okay. You seem most odd, Zannah. There's definitely something wrong.'

She pushed a cup across to him but he ignored it, and went on: ‘I'm not blind, you know. You're unhappy.'

She removed the ruby ring she was wearing and slid it across the table towards him. He frowned and stared at it. ‘What's this?'

‘Your ring, Adrian. I'm giving it back.'

‘Why on earth … '

‘Because. I can't marry you. I'm so sorry. I can't.'

She'd never seen Adrian lost for words before. He turned white, then red, and kept staring at the ring, then at her as though somehow, if he waited long enough, everything would become clearer. She had to say something. ‘It's not you. It's me. I … I've realized while you were away. I don't love you as I should. I mean, I love you, but not … well, not enough to spend the rest of my life with you.'

He pushed the chair back and stood up. ‘This is about Isis, isn't it? Just because I said what I did last time. If it weren't for that, everything would be fine, wouldn't it?'

Was he going to do it? Apologize? Say he'd never meant it? She and Em had gone over what Zannah might say in such a case.

‘No,' said Zannah. ‘I thought that was it, but it isn't. Not really. Of course Isis comes into it, but … I've thought about it and I don't think it'd be fair to you. What I feel about you has changed. I don't love you in the same way that I did, Adrian. There's no good way to say this. I'm so sorry.'

He strode over to the window and turned round, shouting at her, ‘It's no fucking use being sorry! You're nothing but a spoilt, selfish bitch. As long as everything's going your way it's all wonderful, but the minute someone wants to do something you disapprove of, that's it, you're off. No looking back. No regrets. Nothing. How about me? What am I supposed to do now?'

‘I don't know.' Zannah sat at the table and wondered
if he was right about her. Perhaps he was, but she couldn't do anything about it. She wasn't going to fall in with what he thought about Isis but even if she did, she'd already admitted to herself that she wanted still to be married to Cal and no amount of adapting herself to Adrian's desires would change that. Should she tell him? Would that make things better or worse? In the end, she decided to shut up and let him think whatever he wanted to about her. She said, ‘I know your mother's worked fantastically hard on this wedding … '

‘And spent a fortune. Don't forget that. What're you going to do about it?'

‘I'll deal with it, okay? I'll pay back every penny. I'll speak to your mother.'

‘Don't bother. I'll tell her. I'm going down on Saturday as you know.'

‘That's days away, Adrian. I'll tell her. It's the least I can do.'

‘Thanks for nothing. Over the phone, I presume?'

‘I'll go and see her. I'll cope with everything.'

He went back to the sofa and flung himself on to it. ‘What d'you expect me to do with that ring?'

‘Take it back. It's yours.'

‘No, I bought it for you. Keep it. I'm not interested in it.'

Zannah stared down at the ruby. She knew that if she kept it, she would never wear it. She said gently, ‘Adrian, it cost you a lot of money. Perhaps you could get some of it back?'

‘I don't want the bloody money – can't you understand? I want you and I can't have you so I'd rather not have anything to do with your ring or any other crap you think up, okay? It did cross my mind a second ago to beg you to marry me. To beg you to love me still, but that's pointless. You've made your mind up and you want nothing more to do with me, so as far as I'm concerned you can get stuffed. And I'll tell my
mother. I'm going to drive down there right now. You can forget about seeing her. She won't want to speak to you. In fact, once she gets over the shock, she'll probably be quite grateful not to be getting involved with your relatives. She was never entirely happy about having what she called a con in the family, and when I tell her what you've done to me, she'll think she was entirely justified.'

‘I'd better go.' Zannah stood up. ‘Goodbye, Adrian.' What could she say to make things better? Nothing. Why wasn't there some form of words? She tried, ‘I hope we can still be friends.'

‘Oh, do me a favour, Zannah. Fuck off with your mealy-mouthed clichés and leave me alone.'

She left at once, feeling ashamed, sick and relieved all at once. She walked quickly to her car. As she drove towards her flat, she was making a list in her head of who had to be told, what had to be done. Ma would want to come down and see her but she didn't want that … She'd only just emerged from a blanket of parental care in Altrincham and the last thing she needed now was someone else to take into account. No, she'd let her know on the phone and say she was absolutely fine. She started to go over the other repercussions, and wondered whether she could still turn round, go back to Adrian and tell him she'd been mad. He'd forgive her, she was sure, if she pleaded with him. They could still have it: the wedding, the flowers, the music, the heavenly food. The day they'd remember throughout their lives. She still wanted it. She longed for it. There must have been something wrong, she decided, with the whole relationship from the beginning if what I'm feeling sad about now is the wedding. Perhaps Adrian's right and I am selfish and spoilt. I must be completely unfeeling as well. How would Adrian manage? Would he be okay? I ought to care more than I do. Why aren't I crying? Am I completely heartless? Zannah knew it
wasn't that. She'd done her thinking and her crying when she was up in Altrincham last week. Now, she needed every bit of her energy to deal with everyone she had to tell: Mrs Hayward, Maya, Charlotte, Ma, Pa, and Maureen too, because whatever Adrian said, she'd want to tear a strip off the woman who'd let her son down. I'm ready for her, Zannah thought. I've got to be strong from now on.

*

Cal was the first person she tried to reach. Of course he was out somewhere and all she heard when she rang his mobile was
Leave a message and I'll get back to you
. She said, ‘Cal? It's me. I just wanted to let you know. The wedding's off. I've split up with Adrian. Bye.'

Emily was at work but Zannah reached her on her mobile. Before she'd had a chance to say a word, Emily said, ‘You okay, Zan?'

‘Fine. Can you talk?'

‘Not really. Have you done it? How did he take it?'

‘Not well, but better than I expected. He's going down to tell Maureen tonight. I'd better go. Got to phone Ma and Pa. I'll tell you the details tonight.'

‘Okay. Sure you're all right? I can come home early, if you like. What about Isis?'

‘She's going to Gemma's for a bit after school.'

‘Right. See you later, then.'

‘Bye.'

She'd just put the phone down when she heard the trilling of her mobile. Adrian. Texting her. Trying to get hold of her. Wanting her back. She fished the phone out of her handbag and looked at the display. It wasn't Adrian, it was Cal. She clicked on ‘read'.

Don't cancel anything. Must talk to you. xx
.

*

‘I've sent for Graham, darling. He needs to know what's happened.' Maureen felt as though she and her son were the survivors of a natural disaster. She would never, she
told herself, understand it as long as she lived. How could someone throw away the chance to be married to Adrian? She'd always had certain reservations about Zannah without knowing exactly what they were, but had put down her hesitation as the natural jealousy a mother felt about the woman who was about to marry her son. Now, however, it looked as though she'd been spot on. Zannah was nothing but a silly little bitch who gave herself airs, and she seemed to Maureen, now that she looked back, to have been … What was the right word? Stand-offish. Superior. As though she felt she was better than you were. Snobbish. She was not the woman for Adrian. Maureen's duty now was to console her son and persuade him that he'd had a narrow escape, not a devastating loss. She said, ‘You're being very brave but I can see it's a shock. I can't believe it. I really, truly can't. How could she throw away the chance of being married to you, that's what I can't understand.'

‘She doesn't love me any longer.' Adrian was drinking his third gin and tonic. ‘Shit happens.'

‘She must be mad. Quite, quite mad.'

The moment she'd opened the door to her son, Maureen could see that he'd been hurt. She'd been right not to allow him to speak till he'd eaten and drunk something. Then it had all come pouring out: the treachery, the underhandedness, the sheer
cruelty
of that Zannah, who looked as though a strong wind would blow her away.

‘I'll have to ring Genevieve in the morning. And Roland. Cancel the food and the cake. I'll lose the deposit, of course. What does she propose to do about that?'

‘She did say she'd take care of the money stuff. She wanted to come down and see you.'

‘I'm not interested in talking to her, thank you very much. Though I might email her. Or, better still, send her a letter with a piece of my mind enclosed, along
with the bill. What's happened to the ring?'

‘I've got it. I tried to get her to keep it, but she wouldn't.'

‘I should think not. Take it back and see if they'll give you anything for it. I'm sure they will. Something, if not the whole lot.'

‘Just let me get over it in my own way, Mum, okay? I loved Zannah. I'll need time to recover. She's hurt me.'

Maureen had to stop herself hugging him to her bosom as if he were still a small child. Instead she reached across the sofa cushions and squeezed his hand. ‘Of course, darling. Of course you loved her. But you'll be all right. Really you will. You're so handsome. It won't be any time at all before you meet someone else. Someone much more suitable, I hope.'

‘Hello,' said Graham, coming into the room. Maureen had been so absorbed with Adrian that she hadn't heard him. She sprang up at once.

‘Oh, Graham, thank God you're back. It's off. The wedding's off. Can you believe that girl? I'm still dumbstruck. Poor Adrian. Look at him. Sit down and I'll pour you a drink and tell you about it. What did I say about that family? From the word go? Didn't I point out that no one else we knew had a relation who'd been to jail? Didn't I?'

‘You did, Maureen,' Graham said and went to sit down on the chair opposite Adrian. ‘But I think Adrian should tell me what's been going on, don't you?'

Adrian sighed and started his story all over again. Maureen only half listened to what he was saying. She began mentally making a list of the people she'd have to contact first thing tomorrow morning. Poor, poor Adrian. He might seem in control and grown up, but Maureen recognized the signs. The darling boy was in agony. Until he was quite recovered, he would be her priority.

*

Cal was sitting across the table from Zannah in a local Greek taverna he'd always been fond of, and which she privately thought was a bit rough and ready. He'd come round to the flat straight from work and invited her out for a meal. Emily was away for the night in Newcastle.

‘I often have dinner in restaurants,' Cal said.

‘Then you've changed.' Zannah smiled. ‘You used to think going out to restaurants was a waste of time.'

‘I still do, a bit. This is a special occasion, though. I want to say something.'

‘Which you couldn't do at home?'

Cal shook his head. ‘Didn't want Isis to know. Not at this stage.'

‘Know what?'