Made in Heaven (54 page)

She opened her mouth to deny it. She was surely a good enough liar to carry such a thing off. Then the word came out, almost in spite of what she'd planned to say. ‘Yes,' she whispered. ‘I do love him. Desperately. It's not going anywhere, but I can't seem to stop myself. I'm so sorry, Bob.'

She got up and went to the window. She could feel Bob's silence growing behind her. What would he say? How could this conversation continue?

‘
Desperately
,' he whispered, and Joss cringed. How could she have let that word slip out? He went on, ‘What about me? D'you love me?'

‘Yes. Of course I do, but … '

‘But what? Clearly not
desperately
. I want to know what's in your mind, Joss. We've been married for more than thirty years, for God's sake. Can't you tell me what you feel? Explain things to me? I'm begging you … '

‘Okay,' Joss said. ‘Okay.' She came to sit on the edge of the bed again and took her husband's hand. ‘It's hard, but I'll try. I've loved you for years. I'm used to you. We get on well. We have Zannah and Em and Isis to bind us together. You've looked after me from the very first day we met. You've provided a home and money and comfort and companionship, and all those things that are so important. That's why I promised you I wouldn't see Gray again. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to … well, to disregard what we've always had. And I thought that if I didn't see him then the kind of feelings I have for him might fade. Or go away altogether. But they haven't. I'm sorry, Bob. I'm not going to do anything about it … Perhaps over time … '

‘And how is what you feel for this man different from your feeling for me? Where does the desperation
come from? I want to know. I'd like to be able to understand.'

‘He's more … interested in things I'm interested in. My work. He reads my poems. He writes poetry. He's more involved in my thought processes.' She could have added, but didn't: he sees me. He thinks I'm beautiful. He notices my clothes. He tells me he loves me all the time. Or he used to.

‘It's the sex, isn't it?' Bob was frowning. ‘The
desperation
has to do with sex … '

‘Oh for the love of God, stop it! I don't want to hear one more word about “desperation”, all right?' She was shouting and forced herself to be calmer, to speak more quietly. ‘I don't want to talk about that, if you don't mind.'

‘I'm not enough for you. I don't satisfy you. Probably never have. Go on, deny it.'

‘Don't be so stupid. Of course you've “satisfied” me. I refuse to discuss this, okay?'

‘Not really but I suppose you're right. Especially if you're not seeing him.'

‘Exactly.' Joss nodded.

‘Your reticence on the subject speaks volumes, however.'

‘I don't know what you're saying.'

‘You could have told me, reassured me … Oh, never mind, Joss. You're right. The whole topic's unseemly. I won't mention it again.'

‘Thank you,' Joss said, under her breath.

Bob stood up and went over to the door. ‘It's just over a week till the wedding. Not a word to the girls about this, d'you understand? It was that woman's intention to put the kibosh on Zannah's wedding and I'm not allowing her to do that. D'you promise? Not a single word?'

‘I promise … But what …'

‘I'm going downstairs now. There's the conference in
Birmingham starting tomorrow. I'll think about what's best to do. Good night.'

Joss stood staring out of the window for a long time after he had gone. Why was he the one to make the decisions? Why shouldn't she? Maybe, she reflected, because I don't know what to do. She sat on the divan bed and tried to imagine what was going through his mind. Maybe tomorrow she'd be able to gather what his thoughts were before he went off to his conference. How troubled could he be by all this if he could even contemplate driving to Birmingham to sit in seminars and lectures? No, that wasn't fair. Bob had always used his work to bury any worries he may have had. It was one of the things that irritated her about him. He never came to her to pour out his fears, his dreams. Would she have felt differently about him if he had? Joss had no idea. She wondered what the chances were of her getting a good night's sleep.

‘Tea?'

‘Thanks … yes.'

Joss filled the kettle and waited for it to boil. For the last few months she'd been planning to buy a new one because the noise this one made was getting on her nerves. Now she was grateful for the screeching and high-pitched gurgling that went on till the water boiled. Talking was out of the question. Joss made the tea and brought it to the table, where she deliberately took longer than usual to pour it and add milk.

‘There you are,' she said. Bob was trying to hide behind the
Guardian
, which was harder now, since it had become smaller. Perhaps broadsheets could advertise themselves as being just the ticket for a tense breakfast table. She sat down and waited for Bob to say something. She could have spoken. She could have said,
I haven't slept a wink. I don't know what to do. What's going to become of us?
but she was waiting to see what would happen if she didn't. It had always been her task in the marriage to bring up awkward matters for discussion. And he, all through the years, had generally fled to the safety of his work, leaving her to deal with whatever it was. Not this time, Joss thought. Let him say what he's decided. I'm not going to prompt him.

She'd just buttered a piece of toast when he spoke.

‘I've thought about our situation, Joss, and I've
decided that this isn't the right time to make major decisions about our life together … if we're to have one. The wedding is a week from now and I don't want
anything
to disturb the happiness of that day. I'm determined it will be wonderful for Zannah, Isis and Cal and therefore I'd ask you not to mention any of our … ' He waved a hand. ‘You know what I mean.'

‘But you must
know
what you intend to do!' Joss nearly hit him. How could he extend the uncertainty over a whole week? ‘I see you're not bothered about whether I have a happy day at the wedding.'

‘To tell you the truth, Joss, I don't care whether you do or not. I intend to enjoy myself as much as I can. I can't deny that this … this development … has been a bit of a shock.'

‘But I've explained to you that it's over. I haven't seen Gray since November. It's over, as far as you're concerned.'

‘Ah!' He bent forward over the table and banged his fist down so hard that the butter dish jumped. ‘Condemned out of your own mouth!'

‘What are you talking about? What have I said?'

‘You said: “as far as you're concerned”. Now, call me pedantic if you like, but that means to me that it's not over as far as you, Joss, are concerned. Am I right?'

What could she say? Should she lie? As she looked at Bob, red in the face with anger, a kind of stiff cold took hold of her. I don't care any longer whether it's what he wants to hear. She said, ‘Yes, you're quite right. I'm not going to hide it from you. But I'm not going to act on it, so you don't have to worry about that.'

‘I'm not worrying. But I'll let you know in the next day or so what I've decided to do.'

‘Why not now? What's the matter with right now?' For God's sake, she thought, let's get this over with.

‘I've got to go. In case you've forgotten I'm giving a lecture at the conference.'

‘Nice to see that your domestic troubles won't be interfering with that. I won't be here when you get back. I'm going to London. I'll phone Charlotte in a minute. There are rehearsals and fittings going on next week. Just let me know when you intend to get to Clapham. We're sharing a room before the wedding, but that can't be helped.'

‘I'll ask Cal to book me in with him and Mattie. They're in a hotel, aren't they? Don't want to embarrass you.'

Joss got up and left the room.

‘You've not finished your toast,' he called after her.

She didn't answer because if she had she'd have sworn at him in terms he'd never heard her use before. How did he dare to be so bossy, so calm, so unconcerned about everything? It was an act, she knew, but that didn't make it any less irritating. He didn't want to show her how hurt he was so she ought, perhaps, to be more indulgent towards him, but what she felt was something like rage. He knew she wanted, needed, to know what his intentions were. The possibility of a future with Gray was like a mirage, shining somewhere on a distant horizon. I won't think that far ahead. I'll put Gray out of my mind till the wedding is over. She wondered how she could concentrate on Zannah and Cal when everything she'd thought of as her life was in the process of being broken up and rearranged.

*

The Paradise Spa deserved its name. Zannah, Claire and Louise were lolling in the Jacuzzi. Tropical plants grew up to the blue-glass dome of the roof, and loungers covered with white towels of complete and utter megafluffiness were placed round the perimeter of the main pool. Emily slipped in next to the others, loving the foam, the warmth, the effervescence. ‘This is like sitting in a giant glass of Alka-Selzer,' she said, ‘only hot. And always fizzy. Fantastic.' She sank down and rested her
head on the curved marble edge of the small pool.

‘We've driven everyone else away,' said Louise. ‘D'you think they can tell we're a hen party?'

‘It's Em's fault. She forgot to bring the little hats with
Hen Night
written on them in sparkly letters,' said Zannah. ‘But we're not pissed. No one would ever guess.'

‘I think,' said Claire, ‘that the first toast at lunch … You did say champagne at lunch, didn't you, Em?'

Emily nodded. Claire went on, ‘The first toast will be to Em who found this marvellous spa for us and showed us what a hen night can be if you forget about the night part of it. All-day pleasure, lovely food … Brilliant.'

‘I just thought,' said Emily, ‘that if I had to suffer yet another pub crawl, I'd rather stay at home. This is my idea of Paradise, which was how I found it. I put Paradise Spa into Google.'

‘How many other kinds of pool do we still have to go in?'

‘Only three. Plunge pool, ordinary swimming-pool and Japanese pool with hot stone massage, and lunch of course. Don't forget that … '

‘Shame about the naked men,' said Louise, ‘but even without them, it's worth every penny.'

‘Don't talk about money,' said Zannah. ‘This must have cost you lot an absolute fortune.'

‘Yup. Thin soup for a month. My children'll have to go without shoes till at least Christmas,' said Claire.

‘This time next week,' said Louise, ‘we'll be in church, singing “Love Divine All Loves Excelling”. You nervous, Zan?'

‘Not really. I've been well rehearsed. I've got the dress at home and it's better than I ever dreamed of. The food's sorted and I'm not telling you what you're getting. You'll have to wait and see. Flowers'll be okay. The photographer's great and I'm secretly working on him to fall in love with you, Em.'

‘He's not my type,' Emily said. ‘And anyway, he's married. With a baby. So think again.' She was surprised by how genuinely happy she felt for Zannah and Cal now. Any last hope she might have had of herself and Cal coming together in a blissful distant future had long ago disappeared.

‘Damn!' Zannah laughed. ‘Never mind. But no, I'm not a bit nervous. Excited, yes, but I think the nerves went out of weddings when the wedding night stopped being a terrifying ordeal. Can you imagine what that must have been like? Horrible. You've never seen a willy. You don't know if it's going to hurt. Will you do the things you're supposed to do? Will he? I'd just die, if it was me. That's the best thing about the sexual revolution, I reckon. The fact that you know what you're doing. No alarms and no surprises.'

‘Speaking of which,' said Claire, ‘do we assume that you and Cal …'

‘Me and Cal what?' Zannah had started to giggle before she'd even heard the question.

‘Well,' Claire hesitated.

‘She wants to know,' said Louise, ‘if you and Cal have made love since you got together again. She's a nosy bitch.'

‘I don't think I'm going to answer that.' Zannah whooshed her hands through the water.

‘Ah, go on!' said Louise. ‘We haven't got naked men on this hen night, but we can at least hear about your passionate reunion with your ex. Can't we?'

‘I don't think so,' Zannah said. ‘Sorry.'

‘But it was passionate, wasn't it?' Claire asked.

‘Of course it was. What do you think? Use your imagination, for God's sake. I'm not going to spell it out.'

‘And was it everything you'd hoped for?' Louise was giggling.

‘More than. Now shut up, please.' Zannah looked
at her sister. ‘Can't you make them behave a bit better, Em? I don't want to talk about this, really.'

‘You're not supposed to be well behaved on a hen night, you know,' Emily said. ‘Still, as you're my only sister, I'll see what I can do.' She had no desire to hear details. Just thinking about it embarrassed her. Being over Cal is one thing, Emily told herself. Dwelling on him and Zannah in one another's arms is quite another.

Zannah had a good idea of what was going on, but she pretended not to. It had been quite hard, over the last couple of weeks, to ignore the whispering and giggling and hiding of things behind backs whenever she came into a room. Today was her last day of teaching her classes. She'd been met at the school entrance by Claire and Louise who had taken her to the staff-room and told her to stay there till she was called. She sat down and looked at her wedding notebook, which was now so full of bits of paper Sellotaped to the pages that it no longer closed properly. Bills and letters were forever slipping into it and getting lost among the wedding stuff.