Made in Heaven (45 page)

‘Don't think I haven't tried. There's been the odd person, but no one who … well, no one I'd like to be married to.'

‘Apart from Zannah?'

There was a long silence. For a moment, Emily thought Cal might have fallen asleep. Then he said, ‘Right. Zannah. I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd have me.'

Emily looked carefully at Cal in the dimmed light that shone from the one lamp they'd turned on. Were his eyes filling with tears? Cal? For as long as she'd known him, he'd laughed his way out of any emotional impasse, but now he was almost in tears and there was
a suspicious crack in his voice as he said, ‘I rely on you, Em, to keep this entirely to yourself, okay?'

‘I've promised, haven't I?' Emily thought she should dispel the heavy mood. She said, lightly, jokily, ‘Besides, she wouldn't have you. She's completely obsessed with this wedding.'

‘And Adrian too, I presume, so there's nothing more to say. Keep mum, Em, and let's have another drink.'

New Year's Eve. Drinking more wine was about the only thing worth doing.

‘Right. I've had some brandy though. Will it make me throw up if I mix them?'

‘It shouldn't, but we'll soon find out,' said Cal, pouring wine into a clean glass and holding it out to her. ‘Cheers.'

‘Is it too late to wish you all a happy New Year?' Miss Hayward smiled at what seemed, in her small living room, to be a crowd of people. Joss had come down at Zannah's request to see the dress, which was having its first proper fitting today. Isis was there too, to try on the bridesmaid's outfit, and visibly excited at the prospect. Joss suspected that part of the reason she'd been invited was to keep an eye on her granddaughter in case boredom set in during the afternoon. Emily had taken time off work to accompany them, refusing to be left out of such a fantastically important occasion.

‘You need us both, don't you, Zannah?' she'd said while they were on their way to Highgate. ‘You need our opinion on this very important matter, right?'

Zannah had agreed, of course. If she could have had Charlotte there as well, she'd have been even more delighted, but it was quite fortunate she hadn't joined the party. Miss Hayward's living room would've struggled to cope with even one more body. As it was, Isis was sitting on the floor at Joss's feet.

‘No, not late at all,' Zannah said. ‘January the eleventh is still very much New Year, I think.'

‘Well, everything's ready for you to try on, my dear,' said Miss Hayward. ‘If you come upstairs with me, I'll get you into the dress and then we can call the others up to see how it looks. Is that all right?'

‘That's lovely. Thank you.' Zannah sprang up, smiling. She followed Miss Hayward out of the room.

‘Mum'll call us soon, won't she, Granny?' Isis had got to her feet and was examining the china figurines on the mantelpiece. ‘Isn't this lady pretty? I like her hat!'

She was looking at one of the shepherdesses who was dressed in foaming pale pink lacy skirts and a wide-brimmed hat trailing green ribbons. Real agriculture was obviously the last thing on her mind.

‘Yoo-hoo! You can come up now!' That was Miss Hayward.

‘Did she really say yoo-hoo? I thought that was only in books.' Em took Isis's hand and they went quickly up the stairs. Joss followed. Miss Hayward was waiting on the landing, holding open the door to one of the bedrooms.

Zannah was standing next to the window. Joss blinked, and couldn't think of a word to say. Her daughter was beautiful: ethereal and delicate in a dress that draped her body and fell elegantly to mid-calf. She saw lace, edged with more lace; flowers and butterflies hidden in the pattern; tiny pearls scattered around the square neckline, around the hem, and the edges of the sleeve. The dress was still pinned in places; one of the sleeves hadn't yet been set in but Joss could see how it would be. It was the perfect dress for Zannah. Joss said, ‘It's … it's completely amazing. D'you like it? Are you happy? Is it what you imagined?'

‘Better. Miss Hayward has made it even better than I'd hoped it would be. Isn't it fabulous? And look … here's the headdress – a ‘fascinator' – it'll be done up with my hair … kind of wrapped round it. Em, what d'you think? Icey?'

‘You're dead pretty, Mum!' Isis said. She'd been standing quite still by the door, her mouth open in astonishment, but when Zannah spoke, she ran to touch the dress, to look at it more closely.

Em was smiling. She said, ‘I dunno. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have had a Maureen Meringue? I'm kidding, you idiot,' she added, seeing the look of horror on Zannah's face. ‘You couldn't possibly have a better dress. Fantastic. Honestly. I love it. You'll be … You are … Well, there's nothing to say except: wow!'

‘What about me, Mrs Hayward?' Isis said, bouncing up and down with excitement. ‘Can I try my dress on too?'

‘Of course. Here it is. Just take off what you're wearing and we'll see what you look like.'

She held up a hanger with one of the bridesmaid's dresses on it. The green of the fabric was the exact colour of milky jade. ‘The other little girl … Gemma? Is she going to come for a fitting soon?'

‘Yes,' said Zannah. ‘I'll bring both girls in next week. But I'm afraid Isis couldn't wait … '

‘Perfectly understandable,' said Miss Hayward. ‘Now, slip this on, dear. Remember that it's not trimmed. You can help me choose the right decorations next time you come. I've got a whole drawer full of pretty things you can look at.' She was pinning the dress together at the back as she spoke. ‘Of course, on the day, you'll have little buttons here, and not pins.'

Isis went to gaze into the full-length mirror. Her eyes widened as she took in the full glory of the taffeta, the rustle of it, the sheen, and the frilly edges of the sleeves. She let out a breath and sighed with pleasure. ‘It's … it's like soooo cool! I can't wait to show Gemma. Is there going to be a ribbon here?' She pointed to the waist of the dress.

‘Yes,' said Miss Hayward. ‘And a ribbon trim on the sleeves with perhaps some tiny satin roses. What do you think?'

‘Roses! Yes, please. Oh, I wish it was the wedding tomorrow.'

‘But if it was tomorrow,' said Miss Hayward, ‘the
dresses wouldn't be ready. Now stand very still and I'll put pins in to show me where the hem should be.'

While Isis was having her skirt pinned up, Joss moved to where Zannah was standing near the window. She leaned forward to whisper in her ear. ‘You look so beautiful, Zannah. And so does Isis. It's going to be a lovely wedding.'

She and Em went downstairs to wait for Zannah and Isis to change and join them.

‘We'll have to start thinking,' Joss said ‘about what we're going to wear.'

‘You should consult with Zannah,' said Emily. ‘She's often said she'd like to dress you up.'

‘Really? She's never told me that.' Joss wondered what Zannah would advise. She was willing to allow her a reasonably free hand, but they'd have to find out first what Maureen was intending to wear. As though she'd been reading her thoughts, Em said, laughing, ‘We'll have to find out about Maureen first, though, won't we? I wouldn't put it past her to go for something like brocade. She'll look like a very smart sofa.'

‘Now now, she's not fat, you know,' Joss smiled.

‘No, she's not, but she's well-upholstered. Like I said: a sofa.'

Joss smiled but she didn't want to think about Maureen. She knew exactly where such thoughts always led, and she wasn't going to allow herself to grieve for what she had lost. Not on a day like this, at a time like this. Pretend he doesn't exist, she thought, not even letting his name come into her head. Think of Zannah. Think how happy Isis is with her outfit. Concentrate on the good things. The dress. The lovely, lovely dress.

‘I've spoken to Charlie,' said Edie, ‘and he's happy to have me and Val stay overnight on the Friday. And he'll drive us to the church in good time for the wedding.'

‘I'm sorry,' said Charlotte. ‘I don't like turning you out of your rooms, but if Zannah's in the big spare bedroom, Em in the small one, then Joss and Bob can go in your room, Edie, and Gemma and Isis in yours, Val.'

‘Of course,' Val said. ‘You can't have them coming from North London on Saturday morning. Too much could go wrong. Very kind of your Charlie, Edie, I must say.'

They were sitting at the kitchen table after lunch. Outside, a thin, late January sun was struggling through the clouds and the back lawn was dotted with the first purple and yellow crocuses. Charlotte said, ‘There's going to be a Wedding Summit at the beginning of March. Maureen calls it that. She's sent me all the catering details. She is an extremely efficient and organized woman. If a little tiring.'

‘The whole thing,' said Val, ‘is running well up to now.'

‘Throw salt over your shoulder or something, Val,' said Edie. ‘That's tempting Fate.'

Charlotte nodded. ‘I'm pleased there's been no panic so far, I must admit. They came over yesterday to look at the garden and apparently there's plenty of room for
our portable loos. They will, I'm promised, be “of the highest possible standard”.'

‘Not then,
bog
standard … such a relief,' said Val, and laughed at her double pun. ‘By the way,' she added, ‘I've been in touch with Maya, the flower lady, and she and Zannah have discussed the colour of the bouquet roses. And the foliage. She wants pale leaves to match the green of the bridesmaids' dresses. Maya's coming to the church on the Friday afternoon to oversee the flowers in there, and she's promised to be here in plenty of time on the Saturday morning, with the bouquets, buttonholes and table arrangements. She wants them to be as fresh as possible but it'll mean an early start, I'm afraid. Six o'clock. I've said I'll be up to help her. No need for anyone else to be disturbed.'

‘I'm sure Zannah'll be wide awake,' Charlotte said. ‘Em too, probably, with all the excitement. And the hairdresser's arriving at nine. Everyone can help themselves to breakfast in here. The caterers bring everything they need, Maureen says, and won't bother us in the kitchen.'

‘Where are the Ashtons staying? And Adrian?' Edie asked.

‘At the Savoy,' Charlotte said. ‘Adrian's stag night'll be the weekend before the wedding, I believe. He and some friends are off to the Highlands for a party, Zannah says.'

‘What about Zannah? Is she having a hen night?' Edie smiled.

‘Emily's taking her and two friends to a spa in the country. A very luxurious one, apparently. They're going to have beauty treatments and different sorts of bath and end the day with a lovely dinner.'

‘How many kinds of bath can there possibly be?' Val looked bemused.

‘You'd be amazed,' said Charlotte. ‘Em showed me the brochure. Hammam tubs, which are a kind of oriental
bath, I believe. Jacuzzis. Spring water. Plus things like hot stones, saunas, steam rooms and facials. And there's a swimming-pool, of course.'

‘And who,' said Val, ‘is paying for that?'

‘They all pay their own way. That's how it's done, I'm told. I suspect Bob's helping Em, but I didn't enquire too closely.'

Edie stood up. ‘I must go,' she said. ‘Choir practice. I have to check with the organist about the music.' She tapped her handbag. ‘I'm going to give him the list Bob sent.'

‘And I'm off to the garden. Things to be done there.' Val followed Edie out and Charlotte was left alone. The wedding arrangements were under control, but she was less certain about Joss's state of mind. She hadn't seen her since the beginning of January, when she'd visited to report on how beautiful the dress was. She hadn't stayed long. It seemed to Charlotte that she'd lost weight and she could ill afford to. She looked drawn. Older. They hadn't been able to talk properly, but Joss did the dishes after lunch and Charlotte volunteered to dry. Edie and Val disappeared in a suspiciously prearranged way and when they were alone, Charlotte had asked her, ‘Are you bearing up, darling?'

Joss had paused before she answered. ‘Bearing up describes it, I think. I try to keep busy. I do a lot of late nights at the library.'

‘Are you writing?'

‘A little. Not as much as I'd like. Not the sort of thing I'd like to be writing either. I'm all right, Charlotte.'

‘You're very thin, dear. Are you sure you're not neglecting yourself?'

‘No, really. I just … '

She stood with her hands plunged in the soapy water. Charlotte longed to put an arm round her shoulders. At Christmas, she'd told her that the pain would ease. That things would get better. Now, she was almost sure they
were worse. She'd hesitated before asking, ‘Have you heard from Graham?'

Joss shook her head and turned away quickly, so that Charlotte couldn't see her face. Were those tears in her eyes?

They'd changed the subject and since then, all the phone calls and emails had been, Charlotte thought, deliberately cheerful and upbeat. Joss was doing her best to give the impression that everything was fine, but she didn't fool her aunt for a second.

‘Can't paint sunsets any more,' said Zannah. ‘Can't write poems about them either. Or about the moon.'

‘Why not?' Adrian, she could tell from the way he asked the question, was paying more attention to following the path down the gentle slope towards their hotel than to what she was saying. He probably wasn't even expecting a proper answer, but Zannah said, ‘They've become clichés. It would take a real genius to tackle a subject like that. I think so, anyway.'