The Dilemma Page 13

  I reach the house and slow my pace. Adam is keeping something from me, I know he is. I don’t believe that what he wanted to tell me was that he loves me and will always be here for me, not with the darkness I saw in his eyes. It reminds me of the haunted look I see in my own eyes and suddenly, I’m struck by the possibility that maybe he knows what I know, and has been looking for a way to tell me. But then I realise that it can’t be that, because if he had the slightest inkling that Rob was having an affair with his beloved Marnie, there’s no way that Rob would still be standing.

  7 P.M. – 8 P.M.

  Adam

  I haven’t left my shed since Livia came to find me. The first thing I thought, when she came bursting in, was that she knew, that she’d somehow worked out that Marnie was meant to be coming home and had been on the plane that crashed. But she’d thought I was ill and I wished it could be that – that I could swap everything around so that Marnie was definitely coming home, and that I was ill.

  I’d been studying the block of mahogany that I’d bought for Marnie’s angel sculpture, trying to ground myself by thinking about how I would start, where I would make the first cut. Liv’s interruption had me pacing the floor, unable to stay still. I tried to call Marnie again but the call wouldn’t connect. To calm me, I put my hands on the wood and focused on the thought that, on her birthday in July, Marnie would be here in the shed with me, delighted with her sculpture.

  The stifling air in the shed becomes oppressive. I push my way outside. Livia will be down soon. I circle the marquee and walk across the lawn, psyching myself up to be as normal as I can possibly be so that I don’t spoil anything for her. I wait on the terrace; and then she’s here, walking towards me, her movements nervous, the expression on her face almost embarrassed, so beautiful in her long cream dress that she takes my breath away.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ I say, kissing her.

  A faint blush appears on her cheeks. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Yes, even more beautiful than on our wedding day.’

  ‘We were so young. You were only nineteen, the same age as Marnie. Imagine if she told us she was getting married – and that she was pregnant.’ She stops abruptly.

  I try not to flinch at the searing pain the mention of Marnie brings. It’s going to happen a lot tonight, I realise. People are going to be talking about her, saying it’s a shame that she couldn’t be here, asking when she’ll be back. How am I going to cope with having to pretend that she’ll soon be home when I don’t know if she will be? You’ll focus on Livia, I tell myself, you’ll be strong for her.

  ‘I was going to curl my hair and leave it loose but I ran out of time,’ Livia says. ‘Is it alright, do you think?’

  She’s put it up and some strands have fallen around her neck. ‘It’s perfect. You’re perfect.’ I give her another kiss. ‘Stop worrying.’

  ‘I wonder who’ll be the first to arrive?’

  ‘Normally I’d say Izzy and Ian, but Izzy messaged to say they’re going to be late. So, it’ll probably be Kirin and Nelson. Nelson will be itching to get away from the children.’

  ‘And I imagine he’ll be needing a stiff drink,’ she says with a smile.

  ‘Well, there’s everything here he could possibly want.’

  ‘We haven’t forgotten anything, have we?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Where’s Josh?’

  ‘Upstairs, getting changed.’

  ‘And Max?’

  ‘Upstairs, getting changed.’

  She gives a sudden laugh. ‘This is the worst bit, waiting for everyone to arrive.’ She turns towards me. ‘And do you know when the best bit will be? Not when everyone is here but when it’s all over, and it’s just you and me.’

  I swallow painfully. There are footsteps on the path. ‘I think someone’s coming.’

  As if in answer, Nelson’s voice comes to us.

  ‘It’s seven-thirty, let the party begin!’

  And he and Kirin burst through the side gate and onto the terrace.

  ‘Oh my God, Livia, you look amazing!’ Kirin squeals. ‘And you don’t look so bad yourself,’ she says, giving me a kiss and then hugging Livia. ‘I love your shirt.’

  I give a quick smile. ‘New on today.’

  ‘Livia, you look stunning.’ Nelson turns to me and gives me a man hug. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘You only saw me a week ago.’

  ‘And that’s seven days too long.’

  Kirin takes her phone from her bag and I realise, I’m not going to be able to stop people asking about Marnie tonight, but what if they start talking about the plane crash? I move away from them quickly, my heart hammering as I hurry to the kitchen. The caterers are there, taking up too much space. I push past Liz, reach into the cupboard next to the dishwasher, grab a large bowl and go back outside.

  ‘Sorry, Kirin,’ I say, interrupting her as she talks to Livia. ‘It’s a no-phone policy tonight. In here, please. You too, Nelson.’

  Liv looks at me in surprise. ‘Is that really necessary?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I say, faking cheerfulness. ‘We don’t want people on their phones when they should be enjoying the party.’

  ‘But what about photos?’

  ‘Max is the official photographer, isn’t he?’

  Kirin frowns. ‘What if Mum and Dad need me? They’re looking after the children.’

  ‘They’ll phone on the house phone.’

  ‘But will we hear it?’

  ‘Hopefully not,’ Nelson jokes. ‘Kiri, if they need us, one of them can drive two minutes up the road.’

  ‘Alright,’ Kirin says, reluctantly dropping her phone in the bowl.

  ‘You can have mine, with pleasure,’ Nelson says. ‘At least I won’t hear a million messages coming in.’

  More people arrive. Neighbours from across the street, colleagues from Livia’s law firm, friends we don’t see as often as we’d like because they live further away. Soon the terrace is full of people with bottles of wine and presents for Livia. I’m relieved that everyone is going along with the no-phone policy without too much grumbling, joking about going home with the wrong phone – I hadn’t thought of that. But Josh hears and, with a hand on my shoulder, says he’ll sort it. He disappears for a couple of minutes while I struggle to make conversation with one of Livia’s work friends, and comes back with some stickers and a pen.

  I leave him with the bowl and move to the side, listening as he tries to get people, once they’ve given him their phone, to move up the steps and onto the lawn. At first, no-one responds, so he starts shouting that there are drinks in the marquee. It works; the terrace empties and Livia goes with them. She’s quickly surrounded by a group of people and all I can see is her auburn hair. Then it’s just me and Nelson.

  ‘Have a drink with me,’ he says.

  ‘What would you like – beer, wine, champagne?’

  He sits down on the steps. ‘I don’t suppose I could have a whisky, could I?’

  ‘Sure. Wait there.’

  I go to the dining room, find a single malt and two glasses, and half fill them.

  ‘Here,’ I say, handing him one.

  ‘Thanks. Exactly what I need.’ He pauses. ‘Kirin’s pregnant.’ He clinks his glass against mine. ‘Here’s to big families.’

  I wade through the mess of emotions coursing through me, trying to find an appropriate response. ‘Wow.’

  ‘You can say that again.’ He takes a drink. ‘It’s twins.’

  I can’t keep the shock off my face. ‘Twins?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Christ.’

  He looks at me, a frown furrowing his brow. ‘Right now, I’d be expecting you to be rolling on the floor laughing.’

  He’s right, normally I would be. ‘It’s great news, Nelson, really. You are pleased about it, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m sure I will be, once I’ve got used to the idea. Kirin sort of sprang it on me earlier. She c
ouldn’t get into the dress she wanted to wear and that’s when she told me. It was quite brutal. My fault – I told her she’d better go on a diet if she didn’t want to bust the zip, and she told me I’d better get a vasectomy if I didn’t want to end up with more than five children. You know Kirin, she gives as good as she gets.’ He takes another long drink from his glass. ‘Father of five, who would have thought it? But, you know, after I’d got over the initial – pretty awful, I have to say – shock, I began to think it might be quite nice. As long as they’re girls. I don’t want another pair of little monsters. I don’t know where the boys get their energy from. That’s the only thing that worries me. I’m already permanently knackered. Sometimes I envy you. We’re the same age and yours are off your hands.’

  ‘Don’t envy me,’ I say quietly, so quietly that I’m not sure he’s heard.

  ‘I suppose I must be OK about it,’ he goes on, ‘because while I was having my shower I began to think about names. I thought, if they’re girls, it might be nice to continue with the flower theme. I was thinking Poppy and Dahlia. They go well with Lily, don’t you think?’

  ‘Dahlia? Poppy’s alright – but why Dahlia?’

  ‘They’re the only two flowers I know. Apart from Chrysanthemum and Carnation and I don’t think Kirin will like either of those,’ he says with a grin.

  ‘I don’t think she’ll like Dahlia much either. What’s wrong with Rose?’

  He turns to me, a look of amazement on his face. ‘Adam, you’re a genius! Rose!’

  ‘They might not be girls,’ I remind him.

  ‘They better bloody be,’ he growls. Then he starts laughing.

  ‘What?’ I ask.

  ‘Five years ago, we’d have been talking about motorbikes and who won the Grand Prix. Now we’re sitting here talking about babies and flower names for girls.’

  I find a smile. ‘You started it.’

  He gives me a nudge. ‘People arriving.’

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘Go and get drunk, you deserve it.’

  ‘Adam!’ I turn and see Jess smiling at me. ‘Where’s the birthday girl?’

  I give her a hug, taking care not to knock her off balance. ‘On the lawn. Where’s Cleo?’

  ‘Here!’ I look past Rob, who is standing in front of her dressed in a tuxedo and bow tie. He’s fiddling with his hair and I have to reach round him to give Cleo a hug.

  ‘This is amazing,’ Cleo says, her blue eyes moving around the garden, taking everything in. ‘Those lights in the trees – they’re beautiful!’

  ‘How are you?’ I ask, and I feel even worse because all I can think is that here is another person who’s going to be devastated if anything has happened to Marnie.

  ‘I’m good – apart from Charlie, who’s being a bit of a child at the moment.’

  ‘I’ll kick his ass if he upsets my little girl,’ Rob threatens.

  Jess casts her eyes to the sky. ‘Your little girl is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, aren’t you, darling?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Cleo says.

  I hold out the bowl, now nearly full with mobiles. ‘Phones in here, drinks this way,’ I say, showing them the steps, and thankfully, they leave, Rob going up the steps first, leaving Cleo to help Jess.

  An arm comes around my shoulder. ‘So, how are you?’

  ‘Dad. I’m good. Hi, Mum. Wow, you’re looking glamorous.’

  Her eyes search my face. ‘How’s the migraine?’

  ‘Fine. Not great,’ I amend. I’m beginning to lose track of whether I still have my migraine or not. Although I’m no longer lying, because a huge band of pressure is building up inside my head.

  ‘Is that why you forgot to shave?’

  I run a hand over my chin. She’s right, I did forget.

  ‘The drinks are on the lawn,’ I tell them.

  ‘Are you trying to get rid of us?’ Dad jokes.

  ‘Only until everybody has arrived. Why don’t you go and see Nelson? He’s got some news I’m sure he’d love to share with you.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing. Catch up with you later, Adam.’

  More people arrive. I chat to them for a bit, take their phones, the bowl nearly overflowing now, send them up the steps. I can’t remember who’s arrived and who hasn’t. I fish my own phone from my pocket but nothing has come in since that message from Izzy. I feel the now-familiar wave of panic. Where are you, Marnie? I ask silently. Shouldn’t I have heard from you by now?

  I check the time; it’s eight o’clock. The party is supposed to go on until two in the morning, when the music has to stop.

  I don’t know if I can do this.

  Livia

  Josh stands on a chair, his tanned legs showing under the cut-off jeans he’s wearing with a loose white shirt. I watch as he waves his arms at the guests, who are busy chatting, trying to attract their attention. Max steps next to him and taps a fork against his bottle of beer until there are only murmurs.

  ‘Hello!’ he shouts and people cheer back.

  I’m standing with my friends from work, smiling at Josh when, out of the corner of my eye, I see him. He’s standing in front of the marquee wearing a tuxedo with a red bow tie and my stomach clenches horribly. He looks so confident and sure of himself that for a moment I don’t know how I’m going to be able to bear being in the same place as him. Since I found out about him and Marnie, I’ve managed to avoid him completely, arranging dinners with other friends, pretending to be ill so that Adam would have to cancel the dinner he’d arranged at ours – although it wasn’t really a pretence, because the thought of having to sit down and eat with Rob made me physically sick. But I was damned if I was going to cancel the party I’d dreamt about for so long. All I needed was to avoid him, I told myself, which wouldn’t be difficult with another ninety-nine people around. But now that it’s here, the reality is very different.

  The rush of hate I feel is so violent that I have to turn away for a second, and my cheeks flare as I try to control my breathing.

  ‘So for tonight,’ Josh continues, ‘we have a musical adventure for you all! At certain times during the evening I’m going to play a song that one of you chose, and it’s up to you to guess who chose it.’

  There are more cheers and laughs and I try to focus on this, everyone’s enjoyment, to take my mind off Rob.

  ‘Do you understand?’ he cries.

  ‘Yes!’ everyone shouts back.

  ‘Then let the party begin!’

  ‘Celebration’ starts playing through the speakers, and before anyone can stop me I move away from the marquee and go and stand at the top of the steps, as far from Rob as I can. Max is hovering nearby, filming and taking photos, and I’m glad he insisted on being the photographer because otherwise we might not have had any. Adam confiscating everyone’s phones was so unlike him I nearly laughed, thinking at first he was joking. We’d never talked about a no-phone policy, so it must have been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Maybe he was worried that people would spend half of the evening checking their messages, but I don’t think any of our friends would do that.

  I take a few deep breaths. This moment of solitude amongst so many people has calmed me and I smile as I watch my friends laughing together, already having a good time. I smooth my dress down, rearranging the skirt so that the hem is straight, and flattening the material that has bunched slightly around my waist. I’ve been worrying about this dress since I bought it, wondering if it was the right thing to wear, wondering if people would think, because of the colour, that I was trying to re-enact my wedding. But I’ve only had compliments and no-one has said that I look like a bride.

  I did have a moment earlier, though, after I’d done my hair and make-up. As I checked my appearance in the mirror, I suddenly thought of the roses Marnie had sent me and ran downstairs to get them. Back upstairs, I took them from the vase, dried the stems with a towel and put them to one side while I slid into my dress. Then, before looking at myself in the mirror
, I picked up the bouquet and held it in front of me, like a bride would, walking up the aisle. When I looked up and saw my reflection, tears sprang to my eyes.

  I wish there’d been someone to take a photo so that I could have taken it out and looked at it in secret, a reminder of what could have been. But there was only Adam and Josh, and I was too embarrassed to let them see me playing at being a bride. I stared at myself for a long time, imprinting the image on my brain, because I wanted to remember how I might have looked on my wedding day. And then I raised the roses to my face and breathed in their heady smell.

  ‘Thank you, Marnie,’ I murmured. ‘Thank you for making it possible for me to see.’

  The sad thing is, if she had been here, and if what has happened hadn’t happened, we’d have shared the moment together, messing around and giggling. Maybe later, once everyone has left, I’ll ask Adam to take a photo of me with the roses to send to Marnie. Or if I preserve the roses, I can wait until she comes home at the end of the month, put the dress back on, and recreate the scene for her. But I’m not sure I’ll feel like dressing up then.

  It was strange, that moment on the terrace with Adam, when we were waiting for everyone to arrive. There was a sort of gap, a moment in time when nothing was happening and there was nothing to do. A moment when Adam and I ran out of words. A moment where it seemed as if the world had stopped turning and we were suspended in time, waiting for it to move on.

  I see Kirin waving and go over, lifting my hem as I walk.

  ‘I told him,’ she says, smiling. She takes a glass of juice from a passing tray and I do the same. I will have alcohol, but later, once everyone has arrived. ‘I told Nelson I was pregnant.’

  ‘How did he take it?’

  ‘Well, after I resuscitated him he seemed OK. Dazed, but OK.’ She sweeps her arm around the garden. ‘This is beautiful, Liv.’

  ‘I know, and it’s all down to Josh and Max. They’ve done a fantastic job. I can’t wait until it gets dark, it’s going to look amazing.’