Pandora (89 page)

‘You look absurdly gorgeous,’ sighed Sienna as she slotted the comb, with the pink feathers attached, into Emerald’s piled-up hair, ‘like a little squaw.’

‘It’s twenty-five to two, we must hurry,’ begged Emerald.

‘I think Jonathan will wait.’ Sienna peered out of the window. ‘Transport’s outside.’

Charging downstairs, hanging on to her feathers, clutching her flowers, Emerald went slap into Ian, who was putting a white rose into his buttonhole.

‘Oh Daddy, so you were in on it too. How on earth did you get your morning coat here?’

‘Jonathan brought it down last night, felt it might have given the game away if you’d seen it in the boot. You look absolutely lovely, darling.’ Ian kissed her on the cheek.

‘Don’t make her cry again,’ pleaded Sienna, wriggling into a tight scarlet dress as she ran down the stairs, then turning for Ian to do up her zip.

‘You’re not going to like the next bit,’ she added to Emerald, ‘but Dora insisted. Better have another slurp first.’ She handed Emerald her glass.

Outside, surrounded by punters and photographers, stood Loofah, chestnut patches gleaming, malevolent eyes rolling, mane and tail plaited with pink bows, harnessed to a shiny dark-blue trap. Dicky was hanging on to him for grim death.

‘Oh no!’ Emerald retreated into the pub in terror.

‘He’ll be as good as gold,’ said a grinning Dora who, brandishing a long-tailed whip, was already ensconced in the trap.

‘Theirs but to do or die,’ cried Sienna, helping Emerald into the nearside seat, as Ian clambered on the far side into the other.

‘Dicky and I are going in my car,’ Sienna added maliciously, ‘let go of the reins, Dicko.’

‘What happens if he sits down?’ wailed Emerald.

‘He won’t, he has a great sense of occasion,’ said Dora confidently, ‘and he loves crowds.’

As Loofah broke into a brisk trot, the word, it seemed, had got around. All down Searston High Street, people stopped to wave and cheer.

Dora was in an excellent mood. She was in the process of selling the story to the
Telegraph
and the
Standard
and was due to rendezvous with them in the churchyard.

As they hurtled towards open country, past cottages decked out in pink and yellow rambler roses, narrowly missing cars and dog-walkers, a dazed Emerald got out Jonathan’s letter, reading it over and over again.

‘Oh Daddy, is it really true, how long have you known?’

‘Just over a week. Jonathan was determined it should be a surprise. Had a bit of good news myself while you were changing upstairs, got a call on my mobile telephone from Bagley Hall, offering me this job. Evidently the other bursar’s been fiddling the books. They want me to start as soon as possible. Seems a good school, Rupert Campbell-Black’s children go there.’

‘So does my brother Dicky, which lowers the tone,’ said Dora, steering stylishly round a lorry buckling under a load of hay bales. ‘Giddy-up, Loofah. The deputy head is a bitch.’

‘That’s wonderful, Daddy, congratulations,’ murmured Emerald, clutching on to her feathers as dark strands of hair kept escaping, but all she could think was: If I don’t get killed first, I’m going to marry Jonathan. So there is a God and an end to the rainbow after all.

At last there was Limesbridge, with its idling river and the tall chimneys of Foxes Court peering through the billowing trees. Realizing he was nearly home, Loofah thundered down the High Street, ignoring posters showing Jupiter’s thin, haughty face in nearly every window, exhorting people to vote Tory in the forthcoming by-election.

‘At least this job means I can make a contribution to the wedding— Jesus Christ!’ Ian clapped his hands over his eyes as Loofah swung off the High Street into Church Road, nearly mowing down Rosemary and Aunt Lily. No wonder everyone had dressed so smartly this morning. It was the first bit of happiness, except for Sophy and Alizarin in a lower-key way, that the family could celebrate since Raymond’s death. They were determined to enjoy it.

‘That hat cost Rosemary five hundred pounds,’ confided Dora. ‘David will go apeshit.’

There were the dark yews and soaring scented limes. There was the church with its gold weathercock and its bells ringing out joyously. Flanked by crowds hanging over the iron gate, as deathly white as the rose in the buttonhole of his morning coat, his dark curls for once brushed, was the handsomest bridegroom in the world. And wearing a red bow and yapping round his master’s (for once) polished shoes, was Diggory. Charging down the slope, Jonathan lifted Emerald out of the trap.

‘Thank Christ, you’re alive.’

‘Charming,’ said Dora.

‘You look so beautiful.’ Jonathan dragged Emerald behind a nearby yew tree, covering her face with kisses, taking off all Sienna’s make-up. ‘I haven’t press-ganged you, I know it was presumptuous,’ he muttered as they paused for breath, ‘but I love you so much. This is going to be the shortest engagement ever. Will you marry me?’

‘Definitely,’ gasped Emerald, then she gasped in even more delight as he slid the emerald four-leaf clover set in tiny seed pearls onto her finger.

‘Oh how lovely, it’s beautiful.’

‘I bought it to give you the day we got Dad’s DNA test.’

‘Thank you, I love you so, so much.’ Emerald flung her arms round Jonathan’s neck. ‘I cannot believe you organized this.’

‘Who normally cannot organize a piss-up in a brewery, as Jupiter keeps telling me,’ grinned Jonathan as once more he buried his lips in hers.

‘I must be seeing things,’ Sophy muttered to her mother as Emerald’s shiny hair collapsed round her shoulders. ‘Emo is actually allowing her face to be totally mussed up before her own wedding.’

The extraordinarily happy couple only let go of each other when Ian, getting bossy with the confidence of a new job, tapped his future son-in-law on the shoulder.

‘Can’t keep the parson waiting. You push off up to the front pew, Jonathan.’

‘Can’t I walk up the aisle with you two?’ protested Jonathan.

‘No, you can’t,’ said Neville-on-Sunday, getting his hairbrush out and smoothing Jonathan’s curls. ‘Off you go, Emerald will join you in a minute.’

Grumbling, blowing kisses to Emerald, Jonathan gathered up Diggory and disappeared into the church, where Green Jean was remonstrating with an unusually tidy Trafford for drinking brandy out of a bottle.

‘It’s OK, it’s organic,’ said Trafford, passing it to Jonathan.

Outside, Anthea descended on a dazed Emerald, tidying her hair, readjusting the feathers, straightening her dress, reapplying lipstick and blusher, taking the shine off her nose.

‘I chose the dress with Jonathan,’ she couldn’t resist whispering.

‘It’s lovely, everything’s lovely, I’m in a dream.’

Emerald only had time for a brief word with Patience, who had lipstick on her teeth, but who was redeemed by a dashing green hat lent her by Rosemary.

‘You look terrific, Mummy.’

‘So d’you, divine. I’m so excited, darling. I couldn’t tell you before. Jonathan swore everyone to secrecy, I’ve always loved him so much, Daddy and I couldn’t have a nicer son-in-law. Not that Alizarin isn’t awfully nice,’ Patience added quickly. She was rather in awe of Alizarin. ‘Anthea’s been absolutely super too, she made me up. Such a dear person. Neither of us has any mascara on our lower lashes in case we cry.’

‘It’s all fabulous,’ said Sophy, pausing to allow Emerald to arrange her pink beret at a more becoming angle, ‘so like Jane Austen, sisters ending up with brothers. And Jupiter’s lovely wife’s been up all night making and icing the cake,’ she added as Hanna paused to peck Emerald on the cheek before scuttling into church.

Up in the front pew, Trafford was saying smugly, ‘
Shagpile
’s been nominated for the Etienne de Montigny Erotic Prize.’

‘Well done,’ said Jonathan.

I don’t mind, he thought truthfully, I’ve got Emerald, she’s the only prize that matters.

Miss Prattle, the village gossip, resplendent, uninvited, but taking up most of the fourth pew, sat like a recording angel, fulminating over misdemeanours.

‘The groom and the best man are both smoking,’ she hissed, ‘and that dog shouldn’t be in church.’

‘At least the dog’s not smoking,’ replied Jupiter gravely.

‘And I’m sure Alizarin’s young lady’s expecting.’

‘Hard to tell really,’ observed Jupiter as plump Sophy bounced up the aisle.

‘And who is Jonathan marrying in such a hurry?’

‘His sister,’ said Sienna with a sweet smile as she plonked herself down beside Jupiter. ‘Oh, look who’s arrived from Paris.’

Everyone swung round as a beaming Jean-Jacques Le Brun, blowing kisses in toutes directions, settled happily into the seat up the front that Lily had kept for him.

Ian Cartwright admired the banked blue delphiniums and the coronets of pale pink roses on the end of every pew. He was unable to believe such happiness and change of fortune as he took his elder daughter’s arm.

‘I’m so proud of you, darling, Raymond Belvedon was such an awfully nice chap, I feel he ought to be taking your other arm.’

‘I’m sure his ghost is,’ whispered Emerald, ‘I’m so lucky having two families.’

The organ launched into Bach’s Toccata. With a smile as radiant as the new moon, the bride floated up the aisle.

‘She can’t marry her brother,’ hissed Miss Prattle as Jonathan sprinted down the aisle to collect her.

‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he whispered.

The congregation giggled, particularly when Jonathan during the vows announced, ‘With my body, I cannot wait to worship you.’

But when they knelt down later, both Emerald and Jonathan shut their eyes, and begged God to help them make each other truly happy.

‘Why are weddings so soppy?’ muttered Dicky in disgust as Anthea and Patience mopped each other up yet again.

After the marriage service, Jonathan kissed his bride throughout all four verses of ‘Dear Lord and Father of Mankind’ until Neville tapped him on the shoulder, then cried, ‘Ouch!’ because Diggory had bitten him sharply on the ankle.

‘Diggory’s very up himself because Jonathan’s got him a dog passport to go on the honeymoon,’ whispered Sophy.

‘I hope Emerald can cope with his breath,’ whispered back Alizarin.

Then he stroked Sophy’s cheek.

‘You look so pretty. We could get married, if you wanted to.’

Sophy beamed up at him.

‘You and I don’t need rings on our fingers.’

‘Tum, tum, ta, tum, tum, tum, tum, tum, ta, ta tum, ta, ta, tum, tum,’ went the Wedding March.

Never had two such pale people looked so glowingly happy, decided Sienna as, chattering nineteen to the dozen, bride and groom came down the aisle.

I cannot bear it, she thought. I can’t behave beautifully any longer. She put a hand on poor Grenville who stood shivering in the side aisle, hoping eternally for his dear master’s return.

Outside, Jonathan broke away for a second to kiss Anthea and Patience.

‘Now you’re my mothers-in-law, I can refer to you both as the Old Witches.’

‘I thought you already had,’ said Anthea drily.

After the photographs, Emerald took Jonathan’s hand, leading him over to Raymond’s grave, on which she laid her bunch of pink freesias.

‘I just want him to know that he didn’t ruin our lives after all.’

‘I do like Jonathan,’ insisted Ian, as he opened the iron gate back into the garden of Foxes Court, ‘so much more congenial than that absolute bounder Zachary Ansteig.’

‘I agree.’ Anthea smiled up at him. ‘Congrats on your new job, by the way, terrific news. I’m very excited too. I’m having a rose named after me, very pale gold streaked with salmon pink. They’re calling it Lady Belvedon.’

‘If it’s as pretty as you, I’ll buy lots,’ said Ian happily, realizing that now he was moving to the country, and had a job again, he could.

Dora was due to join Dicky at Bagley Hall next year, reflected Anthea. She was sure Ian would be understanding if she were late with the fees. Although there might be someone to pick up the bills quite soon. Caradoc Willoughby Evans was phoning every day, and the rose-grower was a charmer, quiet, but with lovely hands and piercing blue eyes.

The terrific party under way at Foxes Court was soon deserted by Sienna. She couldn’t bear to hear anyone else slagging off Zac, and the thought that he might be at Sotheby’s this evening was too much for her.

Jonathan, leaving Emerald’s side only for a minute, tried to dissuade her.

‘Are you sure it’s a good idea seeing the Raphael sold? It’s going to hurt like hell. Stay here and get hammered.’

‘Dad insisted we always waved people off until they were out of sight,’ said Sienna. ‘Pandora deserves that. Dad would expect it.’

‘I’d come and hold your hand,’ Jonathan assured her, ‘but I’m off on my honeymoon later. I never dreamt I’d be so excited about getting my dick out in private.’ Then, misreading the desolation in her eyes: ‘You OK, darling, not jealous of me and Emerald?’