The First Wife (22 page)

‘Oh,’ I remembered. ‘That. Yes, that was dreadful, wasn’t it? How’s he doing?’

‘Oh, Lily, he’s doing dreadfully. We went over to talk to them, because there’s nothing worse than people cold-shouldering you if you’ve been through a tragedy because they don’t know what to say. And they’d just been asked to think about switching off his life-support.’

Silence hung in the air.

‘That’s horrific,’ I said eventually, knowing it was inadequate.

‘Isn’t it just? One of those random things. Darren wasn’t even drunk. Not that it would have made any difference. He was just picking up some fish and chips, and this car drives up on the pavement, knocks him down, and speeds away. It had its lights off, May said, which is why no one got a proper look at the number-plate. A silver car. There are millions of the bloody things. I hope they get him though. Or her. Probably him. It makes you want to bring back the death penalty, and that’s not something I’d say lightly.’

‘No, you’re right. They will get him – I’m sure they will. Something like that can’t stay hidden for ever.’

‘Well, let’s hope so. Now, what is there to do but carry on? After all that I could do with a drink, but we’d better stick to coffee. Will you have one?’

I nodded. ‘Please.’

Julia looked at me.

‘You know, Lily? I always knew you’d go far, but we never imagined this would happen. Do you realise how different you look? You are positively glowing.’

I grinned back and tried to put Darren from my mind for the moment. ‘I feel it, actually. I’m so glad you’re pleased for me. I know people think it’s ridiculous. I do sense some hostility from people Harry knows. They see him taking up with a younger woman soon after his wife’s death, and they get their disapproving faces on.’

Julia laughed. ‘Should we wait for Harry before we have the coffee?’

I shook my head. ‘He won’t be able to stop. He’s just bringing the car so I can pack some stuff into it.’ I inhaled, ready to impart my news, but Julia filled the silence too quickly.

‘Well, of course they disapprove. People love to. “Cat’s bum mouth”, that’s what we call it at work. Healthcare professionals can be guilty of it, that’s for sure.’ She turned and pulled the face in question at me.

‘That’s exactly it!’ I giggled. ‘So, to the outside world we seem to be fulfilling every cliché in the book, and I can’t walk down the road without seeing cat’s bum mouths everywhere I look, but from the inside it doesn’t feel a bit that way. It feels like . . .’ I grasped for any words that could possibly explain it. ‘It feels as if the flowers spring out of the ground just for us. As if the stars shine for us. It’s impossible to describe without churning out the clichés: in fact, I keep going back to Shakespeare’s sonnets, but even those seem a bit too cynical. You know, all preoccupied with how immortal his writing’s going to be.’

‘Everything seems to have gone elemental, all of a sudden,’ Julia mused. The kettle boiled, and she started carefully spooning coffee into the cafetière. ‘Birth, love and death. None of the ordinary in-between business.’

‘I only wanted to be ordinary,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘That was my one goal in life. To learn how to live an ordinary life. Anyway, he asked me to live with him, so I’m going to move out of here. I’m sorry. I hope you find a nice new lodger. I’ll keep paying the rent until you get someone.’

She got two cups out. ‘We were expecting it, to be honest,’ she said. ‘Which doesn’t mean we won’t miss you.’ She turned to me. ‘This is a bit of a ridiculous thing to ask, because I know what you’re going to say, but you are sure, aren’t you? This
is
what you want? It’s only been a matter of weeks.’ She looked at my face and hurried on, ‘I’m only saying this to you because someone has to, Lily, and you don’t have any family around to do it. If you want to take things more slowly, don’t be afraid to tell him that. And if you ever need a bolthole, you can come back here.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘But I won’t. I’ve never been happier.’

‘I know – I can see that. You’re radiant. How’s college going?’

I avoided her eyes. ‘I haven’t been much. Harry says it’ll be too easy for me and I don’t need to take it seriously until next year.’

‘Lily, you have to keep on top of it.’

‘I know.’

She handed me a mug of coffee and a chocolate Hobnob.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll always stay in touch, you know.’

‘Too right you will,’ said John, coming into the kitchen and apparently sizing up the situation in an instant. ‘We want to be invited to the wedding.’

Harry knocked on the door at the appointed time. Julia had changed her clothes and put some lipstick on. John smiled and blustered at him in a male manner. Even Tommy came in from the garden where he was playing football and Mia edged down the stairs, hiding her blotchy face behind her hair.

‘You know,’ said Harry, looking around at them all, ‘it occurred to me that you’re Lily’s surrogate family, and I’ve never actually met any of you properly. It’s high time we rectified that.’

‘We’re just delighted to see Lily so happy,’ said Julia. ‘Would you like a coffee or something?’

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Harry said. There was something about him. It was, I thought, charisma. He was the centre of any room he stepped into, and everyone warmed to him instantly. ‘Why don’t I get Lily’s worldly goods into the car, and then, yes, I’d love to join you all for a coffee.’

‘I’ll give you a hand,’ said John, and the two of them transported my boxes of books, my few bags of clothes, and the small amount of other bits and pieces I owned, into the small boot and the tiny back-seat space of the BMW Mia hung back watching them. She had cleaned up her tear-stained face, but it was still obvious.

‘He’s really nice,’ she whispered to me. ‘I can see why you want to live with him.’ I smiled at her. ‘It’s just Joe,’ she added, picking up our previous conversation. ‘His dad lost his job. He’s got a new one, but it’s in Newcastle. They’re moving in a couple of months.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Yeah, I know. It sucks. Nothing anyone can do about it. Can I come round to your house one day, then?’

‘Of course you can. Any time you like.’

Harry and John were coming back in, satisfied with a job quickly and easily done.

‘Nice car,’ John was saying. ‘New?’

‘Yeah. You know how it is. One of those life moments. Everything else has changed – better change the car while I’m at it. Now, Mia, I’ve heard all about
you.
’

She blushed furiously and looked at her feet, which were clad in huge woollen socks that made her legs look like matchsticks.

‘And it’s lovely to meet you at last.’ She grinned at him and he gave her one of his warm looks. ‘Tommy?’ he said, shaking Tommy’s hand. ‘I’d recognise you anywhere – you’re famous, aren’t you? I’m sure I saw you in the paper.’

Tommy beamed at him and I looked at Harry with pride. Every member of the family loved him, instantly. I was inordinately proud.

On the news that night, we heard that Darren Mann’s life-support had been switched off.

October

There was an end-of-day feeling when we reached the beach. I couldn’t stop looking at Harry. I was starving: we had stayed in bed all day, only getting up an hour ago. I thought, however, that Harry had left me sleeping at various points, and that this had to be how he had magicked up the heavy picnic basket that we were now carrying between us. It was so heavy that Harry had insisted we take a taxi, and he had got the driver to bring us here, to Maenporth, the next beach along the coast path, a few miles from town.

The sun was setting, and the car park was emptying. There was a slight chill of the beginning of autumn in the air. A few children had been out in kayaks, and they were now coming in, walking up the beach, shivering in their wetsuits. A man barked orders at them as they took their canoes to a waiting van and helped him strap them onto the sides and the roof. The café was still open, although it looked as if it were about to shut. A couple of serious walkers came onto the beach from the coast path, walked across it, and set off up the other side, in the direction of town. They smiled as they strode past us.

Harry chose a spot in the very middle of the coarse sand, and we put the basket down. I stood and looked at the ocean, which was glowing in the golden evening light, pulsating, alive. There were a couple of yachts out at sea, their sails harnessing the breeze. The tankers, as ever, lurked close to the horizon. When I looked around, there was a red and white checked picnic blanket on the sand, with two champagne flutes and a bottle of Moët on top of it. Harry was hovering with a match, next to a little barbecue, a small one in a foil tray.

I sat down next to him.

‘Want me to have a go?’ I asked, and he reached out and took a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. I felt myself trembling, although it was a warm night.

‘Go on then. You’ll do it first time, won’t you?’

I took the matches from him, lit one, and dropped it straight into the tray. The coals began to glow at once. Harry placed two burgers on top of it, and put a Marks & Spencer’s salad down in front of us. He passed me a china plate and picked up the champagne.

‘Cold?’ he asked, as he eased the cork out of the neck of the bottle. I was still shivering slightly.

‘Not really,’ I said. ‘Happy.’

I thought he was going to give me his jumper, and I was looking forward to feeling small and snug inside it. Instead, he whipped out a wrap from a side pocket inside the hamper.

‘
Voilà, Madame
,’ he said. ‘One pashmina.’

It was soft, dusky pink, probably cashmere. I knew that it had been Sarah’s, because I had seen it hanging up when I cleaned the house. I bit my lip and reached for it, but Harry opened it out and wrapped it around my shoulders, enveloping me. I smiled. It was warm and gorgeous. It didn’t matter that it had been hers, because she was gone and now it was mine.

We sipped champagne as the sun set. There were other people on the beach, a couple of other barbecues. A wedding party crossed the road from the hotel opposite, and forty or so people had their photos taken in the fading light. All of them looked at us, at Harry and me, leaning on each other, enjoying our barbecue, drinking our expensive champagne. I had no one in the world apart from Harry, and I was happy with that. I only wanted him.

‘I’m glad it’s me,’ I said, when it was almost completely dark, when Harry produced a thick candle, pushed it into the sand and lit it.

‘You’re glad it’s you?’

‘You. Getting over Sarah like this. Finding someone else. I’m glad it’s me.’

‘Oh, of course it’s you. It could never have been anyone else . . . Lily?’ he said.

‘Yes?’

‘This is going to sound premature and impulsive, but I can promise you it’s not impulsive. I’ve given it a huge amount of thought. I think we should get married.’

I could not say anything. My head was spinning.

‘Married?’ I managed to stutter.

‘Yes. It’s simple enough, the way I see it. I love you. I believe that you feel a similar way about me?’

‘Oh, yes,’ I managed to say.

‘Well then. I know what I want for the future, Lily. I want you. I want you to be my wife, and I would love it if we could have a family together. Some little Lilies and little Harries. I know you’re young, and of course I’ll support you in your education, but I can see you might not want to be tied down to some sad old codger . . .’

‘No, no, no!’ I exclaimed. ‘I do want to! I’d love to marry you, Harry. I’m just amazed. I thought people lived together for years before they got to this part. It’s the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me.’

He was beginning to smile.
‘P
eople
live together for years, sure. But we’re not people. We can do it our way.’

There was a crisp wind blowing my hair around. The sun was half-sunk into the sea. The waves splashed gently onto the shore and the pebbles made a tearing sound as the water pulled back through them.

‘Yes,’ I said, aware that I was sounding prim and formal, that this was a situation in which it was impossible not to follow a script. ‘Yes, please, Harry. I’d absolutely love to marry you.’ Suddenly I thought of Tommy. I could probably manage a couple of children, too, I decided, at some point.

He smiled at me in the dusky light.

‘Thank you,’ he said. He raised his champagne glass. ‘To the future, Lily Button.’

I clinked glasses with him. ‘Lily Summer,’ I said. ‘That has a better ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘Now, is that why you’re doing it?’ he asked seriously.

‘Yep. The only reason. Actually, I think I’ve been in love with you since the very first moment I ever set eyes on you. I walked past you on that lane that the Trago’s trucks use, and you said hello to me – and that was that, as far as I was concerned. You won’t even remember.’

‘I’ll tell you something,’ he said, ‘I do remember. You’re more striking than you think, with that hair of yours. I felt flattered that a beautiful young girl with a pasty was blushing at the sight of me, and believe me, a man doesn’t forget a thing like that.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘I’m going to tell you every day. I love you, Harry.’

He was beaming. ‘Thank you, my darling. I love you, too, but I may have mentioned that already.’ He cleared his throat. ‘So, I have a piece of jewellery that I hope you might like.’

It came out of his pocket, a hard little box. Inside it, there was a ring. It had a small square jewel in it which caught the last of the evening light and, for a second, dazzled me. I blinked, and Harry took it and gently put it onto the fourth finger of my left hand.

I looked out to sea, then back again. It was still there.
I am engaged
, I told myself. We would have a wedding. I would have to meet his family properly, and hope they liked me. Mia and Jessica could be my bridesmaids. Al could come, if I could get his attention. If he was still all right. Al was a constant nagging worry that underscored all my happiness. He had not responded to my texts for over a week, and I was not sure how else I could check up on him. Catching a train to Glasgow and wandering around in the hope that I stumbled across him did not seem like a practical plan.