“You’re overwrought,” he said. “There’s no point having this conversation now, you’re not in any sort of mood to listen to me.”
I was shortly going to cry, hard. I had to leave before that happened.
“Just think about what I’ve said,” said Angus. His gaze was fixed on the flames, his body twisted away from mine. “That’s all I ask. Just think about it.”
*
I slept fitfully that night and woke at nine, feeling unrested. I wondered whether Matt had also passed a restless night. Just think, when we were married, we’d be able to share a room here. I missed his solid warmth in the bed. The house had never seemed colder.
After breakfast, I asked Matt to come for a walk with me. I could see by smile that he thought I was taking him somewhere to celebrate properly, although God knows it was far too cold for any kind of alfresco antics. We pulled on our coats and scarves and walked out into the garden, stepping back over the same ground we’d walked yesterday.
“Maudie?”
I realised I’d been standing still, looking at nothing for nearly a minute. Matt was observing me with a half-smile. His nose and cheeks had pinked in the cold; he looked younger than usual; more carefree, more boyish. Was that because of my proposal? It was a lovely thought, although there was something a little worrying about the fact that his happiness rested so firmly on a decision of mine taken on something of a whim.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was miles away.”
“Not having second thoughts, are you?”
“No!” I said, a little too quickly. “Not at all. It’s just that–”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
I stood with my fists clenched for a moment. Then it burst out of me. “My fucking father–”
“Maudie!” said Matt, shocked. “What on Earth–”
“He wants me to have a pre-nup,” I said, talking over him. I clenched my teeth for a second. “It’s such a stupid idea, it’s so insulting, I won’t blame you if you’re furious, I can’t believe he’s making me ask you–”
“Whoah, whoah, whoah,” said Matt, putting both his hands on my shoulders. He put a finger under my chin and tipped my face up to his. He was frowning, but more in puzzlement than in anger. “Slow down, and tell me from the beginning.”
Falteringly, I summarised the conversation of the day before. Again, at moments, a choking anger overwhelmed me. Thanks, Angus, I thought. Thanks for managing to ruin what should be one of the happiest days of my life. If Matt broke off the engagement, would I be able to bear the humiliation? If he does, he’s not the man I thought he was, I told myself, but it didn’t really help.
After I finished speaking, I held my breath and waited for the explosion from Matt.
“Well,” he said, after a moment. “I can’t see that that would be a problem.”
I let out my breath in a gasp. “Oh Matt, really? You don’t mind? You’re not terribly insulted?”
That made him laugh a little. “No, Maudie, I’m not. I can’t believe you’ve got yourself into such a state over this.”
“You’re really okay with it?”
He nodded. Then he pulled me closer and kissed me on my scar. “You idiot,” he said, “You’re so daft, sometimes. You just don’t think about all these practical things, do you?”
“It’s not that–” I began. His words reminded me of what Angus had said. You’re so naive about the world.
“It’s alright,” said Matt. “God, darling, let’s not even think about such awful things as divorce, not today.”
“God, no,” I said, limp with spent emotion. “I don’t care about the stupid thing, it’s just that Angus–” I stopped myself. “It doesn’t mean anything, anyway.” I was babbling a little but mostly out of relief. “Money’s not important, is it, anyway?”
“Of course not,” said Matt.
“It’s all ours to share anyway. And-” I laughed lightly, “I’d never divorce you.”
He pulled me close to him again and kissed me, properly this time. His mouth was warm against my frozen face.
“And I’ll never divorce you either, sweetheart,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Let’s never mention that word again.”
Later that afternoon, I went into the room that contained my mother’s clothes. I found myself at the wardrobe, staring inwards at the racks of garments, her dresses and jackets and coats. I ran my hand along the row of hangers, rattling them against one another on the rail. My hand stopped at the last hanger; my mother’s wedding dress, shrouded in rustling plastic. Slowly, I pulled it towards me and tugged at the zip. The long, silky white folds spilled out over my hands, glossy and cool against my skin.
I lifted the dress out and held it against me. I could never wear it – whilst beautiful, it was so obviously a dress of its time. I would look as if I were on my way to a fancy dress party. I hugged the dress tighter, moving so the slippery folds rippled against me. And I felt again the old, old longing, for a mother I couldn’t remember, for a person I’d never known. She should be here with me right now, laughing over her old wedding dress, talking to me about my own wedding plans. I let the dress slither through my fingers and drop to the ground in a cold puddle of silk. There were tears pressing at the back of my eyes.
Chin up, Maudie. Be happy. Matt will be your husband. Be thankful for that. I told myself all these things, as I put the dress back into its bag on the hanger and replaced it in the wardrobe, before I left the room to join my family, the two of them, the old and the new.
Chapter Eight
Matt reminded me about the call to the solicitor’s office as he kissed me goodbye. The sun had barely risen and I moved about the kitchen in a fog. I didn’t think I’d drunk that much last night, but I felt badly hungover, my head aching and my mouth parched. Outside, a drizzling rain made the air look grey and dirty. I pulled my dressing gown more tightly about me as I made coffee, wincing as I raised my head to look for the cafetiere.
“Got a headache?” asked Matt.
“No,” I said. “I just slept badly.”
“Right.” He was pulling on his tweed jacket. “So you won’t forget?”
“Forget what?” I said. I pushed my hair away from my face, yawning.
“The solicitor, darling, you remember? You said you’d ring Mr. Fenwick to see what he wanted? God, Maudie–”
“Alright,” I said, grumpily. “I don’t see what the hurry is.”
Matt gave me a cold look. “It’s not a question of hurry, Maudie, it’s just that it’s something that has to be sorted out. There’s the estate, and the property and all sorts of things.” He pulled on his black leather gloves. “I’ve asked you three times to do it. You don’t know how bloody tired I get of nagging you about it.”
“So don’t, then,” I said. “I said I’d do it.”
“I shouldn’t have to ask you three times,” said Matt. “You’re a grown woman. Christ, if my students were as slow to get things done as you are–”
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll do it today. Satisfied?”
“Yes,” he said stiffly. He picked his briefcase and turned away.
I heard the front door slam and watched for him as he walked out of the front door and came into my line of vision, stationed as I was at the kitchen window. I hoped he would look up so I could wave, perhaps pull a silly face, but he didn’t. The rain was coming down harder now – I could see it darkening the shoulders of his jacket.