Needles and Pearls (4 page)

‘I know, pet, but it doesn’t feel like that long.’ She looks down at her wedding ring. ‘I’ll not stop wearing my ring, you know. I’ve told Reg, I’ll have it altered so it fits my other finger.’

‘That’s a lovely idea.’

She smiles.

‘So you’re pleased then?’

‘Yes. Cross my heart. When did he ask you?’

‘This morning. When he brought the paper round he said he wanted to wait until we were out for a meal, and do it properly, but he couldn’t help himself. He was so nervous, bless him.’

I get up to give her a kiss and she holds on to my hands.

‘We’ve decided to have a proper wedding, in the church. I know it’s daft at my age, but I never had one with your grandad – we didn’t have the money, and what with the war … and Reg was the same; they were saving up for a house, so it was just a tea at her mother’s. So this time we want the full works, except I’ll not have a dress, I’ll have a suit, and I thought I’d ask Betty to be my matron of honour, and you can be my bridesmaid. What do you think, pet? I thought the boys could be page boys – I’ve seen some lovely little velvet suits in one of my catalogues. Although heaven knows what your mother’s going to say.’

‘Something unfortunate, probably.’

‘Yes, well, she doesn’t have to come if it doesn’t suit. I’m going to tell her. If she can’t be nice she can stop in Venice. I’m not having her upsetting everyone like she usually does.’

‘She doesn’t mean it, Gran.’

‘Oh yes, she does. I don’t like to say it about my own flesh and blood, but she’s a right little madam, she always has been. And it’s not from my side, I can tell you. Your Grandma Butterworth was the same, always wanting to be the centre of attention. When she died I felt like putting the flags out, I really did. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but when I think of the years I spent stuck in that shop with her moaning on at me, well, I’m surprised I managed to stick it. Mind you, I had nowhere else to go.’

‘I know, Gran.’

‘Still, that’s all over now, and you’re here, and the boys, so I’m glad I stuck at it now, I really am. We thought we’d sell Reg’s house and live in mine, and that way we’ll have a bit of money to treat everybody.’

‘Or you could treat yourselves. You could go on another cruise, a honeymoon one.’

She blushes.

‘Reg has already been on at me about that. He’s getting all the brochures, and they do some lovely ones, with suites and balconies, although I’d be worried if there was a storm. You could get drenched if you left your door open. And they cost a fair bit, and I’m not sure we’d get the benefit, what with my head for heights. But we’ll see. Now I want to tell your brother, but could you dial the number for me, only it always goes wrong when I try to call him. I thought I’d ask him if he’ll give me away. Do you think he’d like that?’

Vin’s a marine biologist, and usually on a boat somewhere, so he can be pretty hard to track down.

‘Of course he will. He’ll be thrilled.’

I’m sitting by the fire with my To Do list, and trying to visualise where Jack’s PE kit might be, when Ellen calls.

‘So how did it go?’

‘Less traumatic than I thought really. Fiona made some nuclear horseradish, so there was slightly less of the I’m A Perfect Housewife And You’re Not routine than usual, and Elizabeth got pretty tearful, but apart from that it was fine. Weird, but fine.’

‘Weird?’

‘There’s something weird about visiting graves, trying to work out what to say to a marble headstone and some wet turf. They should have phone booths or something, like in prisons, so you could put your hand on the glass and talk into the phone. Except there’d be nobody on the other end.’

‘Isn’t that what therapists are for?’

‘I used to call his work mobile, in the first few weeks, just to hear his voice. It made it all more real somehow, but then one day there was a “this number is unavailable” message. Personnel must have cancelled the contract.’

‘Mean bastards.’

‘Well, he was hardly going to use it, was he? I suppose it didn’t occur to them I was ringing it occasionally. Anyway, never mind about that, I’ve got some really good news, for a change. Gran’s marrying Reg. Isn’t that sweet?’

‘Bless.’

‘I know. She’s so excited, and Vin’s going to give her away, and I’m meant to be the bridesmaid. The whole town will probably be there, which is the only tricky bit really, because you know what you were saying about pink crinolines, well, that’s exactly the kind of thing she’s going to want.’

‘I’ve been looking at websites this afternoon and you wouldn’t believe some of the wedding kit out there. It’s like there’s some terrible conspiracy going on: perfectly nice sheath dress, let’s add some net and a sprig of embroidery and totally fuck it up. And the veil thing is so weird. I might have a tiara, though. And maybe floral would work for your gran – there are some half-decent floral bridesmaids’ outfits out there.’

‘I can see you with a tiara. And floral sounds lovely.’

‘Yes, but not in mimsy colours – acid greens, purples, that kind of thing. No Laura Ashley.’

‘Perish the thought.’

‘God, there’s so much to do.’

‘It’ll be lovely, Ellen, and we’ve got ages, you’ll see. We’ll do a plan this weekend. It’s all going to be perfect.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

‘Good. So what have you got on this week apart from paying homage to the Diva?’

‘I’ve got to go into school tomorrow for another session with the staff on the knitting thing. Lesson plans or something. And Annabel Morgan’s still giving me the evil eye.’

‘What have you done to her now?’

‘Nothing, but she thinks being President of the PTA means she should get to choose which parents get hijacked into doing school projects, and I’m definitely not on her list.’

‘Just ignore her.’

‘Yes, well, that’s easier said than done when she keeps barrelling across the playground with a mad grin on her face and asking me about my plans. She wants a written outline, for her files.’

‘That’s easy, darling. Just do it in management speak.’

‘On knitting?’

‘Yes. Over-arching skill development, creative empowerment, that kind of stuff.’

‘Cross-curricular multi-disciplinary learning goals?’

‘Perfect.’

‘Great, well, that’s Monday sorted. And I’ve got dinner with Martin on Friday.’

‘Good old Dovetail.’

‘Yes, and stop calling him that – those shelves are really useful. I’m thinking of asking him to do me some more for downstairs so I can have more stock out.’

‘So you’re taking him out to dinner to talk about wood again?’

‘Yes, I promised him dinner, when Archie went missing that day and he found him, remember?’

‘Yes. And you kissed him.’

‘By mistake. And I’m still really embarrassed about that, actually, so thanks for reminding me.’

‘Darling, I’ve told you, he could be gorgeous if he got rid of that tragic haircut.’

‘It’s grown a bit since you last saw him.’

‘Good.’

‘And he’s talking about buying a flat.’

‘Excellent. The sooner he gets out of Elsie’s clutches the better: he’s far too old to be living at home with his mother.’

‘It was only temporary, while the divorce was going through.’

‘What are you wearing?’

‘It’s not that kind of dinner. It’s just friends.’

‘You don’t need any more friends – you’ve got me.’

‘Yes, but you’re not quite so handy at putting up shelves. Anyway, I’ve told you, I practically grew up with him; we were here every summer for our holidays, don’t forget. He’s like a cousin or something.’

‘A kissing cousin, obviously.’

‘Stop it. Anyway, look what happened the last time I tried a bit of romance.’

‘I assume we’re talking Daniel Fitzgerald now?’

‘Yes.’

‘That was just bad luck. And you had a nice wanton moment in Venice. What more do you want?’

‘Maybe for him not to get back together with his ex-girlfriend?’

‘You can’t let one little setback put you off, darling. Take Martin out of his box and give him a twirl. You never know, he might surprise you.’

‘Yes, and it’ll be a nice surprise for Elsie too. She’ll go into a massive sulk with me in the shop, which is all I need.’

‘She’s sulking for most of the time anyway, so how will you know?’

‘Trust me, if I’m giving her Martin anything remotely resembling a twirl, I’ll know.’

‘Go for it, darling. You deserve a bit of fun.’

‘I don’t think Martin would be just a bit of fun – he’s too nice. And he’s still getting over his wife.’

‘Trust me, wear something tight, and he’ll get over it.’

‘Everything’s tight at the moment, so that won’t be hard. I’ve told you, Elsie keeps feeding me custard creams in the shop.’

‘It’s probably a plot to turn you into a porker so her Martin won’t fancy you.’

‘Well, it’s working.’

‘Just promise me you won’t wear a baggy jumper.’

‘Well, it’s either that or my nightie.’

‘Not very subtle, darling, but I like your thinking.’

‘Night, Ellen.’

‘Night, darling.’

Damn; I wasn’t feeling that nervous about Friday, but I am now. Ellen’s always trying to turn things into something they’re not, although she was right about Daniel, briefly. But Martin’s totally different: he’s not at all cosmopolitan like Daniel; famous photographers can cope with low-level affairs with no harm done, it’s almost part of the job, but Martin’s just not the type. And anyway, Ellen’s only imagining things, as usual; it’ll be a nice friendly supper, and it won’t matter at all what I’m wearing. But still. Damn.

I’m sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea after making the packed lunches ready for school in the morning, feeling very pleased with myself for being a proper organised mother for once, even if I still don’t know where Jack’s PE kit is. I’m finishing knitting the pink rabbit while I try to work out how I’m going to hide the horrible peach matinee jacket Elsie’s made for the shop window that will ruin my colour scheme; I’ve gone for nutmeg and caramel and buttermilk cotton, little cardigans and a striped blanket, and some tiny socks, which I’ll hang on a washing line strung across the window with some little wooden pegs.
Gran’s knitted some baby ducks in pale primrose too, so if I can finish off the pink rabbit I’ll have a few toys to put in; I’ve already knitted a penguin and a pale-blue elephant, and a doll with clothes you can take off, which will hopefully attract a few mother-and-small-daughter combos into the shop. Things have been fairly quiet since Christmas, so I’d like to boost sales before the new summer stock starts to arrive.

I’m about to go up to bed when Mum calls.

Damn.

‘I’ve just been talking to your grandmother about the wedding.’

‘Isn’t it lovely?’

‘Lovely? It’s ridiculous, and I might have known you’d take her side. Who is this Reg, anyway?’

‘He’s very nice. He used to be captain of the bowls team. She’s known him for ages.’

‘Getting married at her age is ridiculous.’

‘She’s very happy, Mum. Isn’t that all that matters?’

‘It’s so suburban. Nobody gets married any more.’

‘You’re married to Dad.’

‘Don’t be deliberately stupid, Josephine – it’s so unattractive. Is he after her money, do you think?’

‘What money?’

‘That ghastly bungalow’s got to be worth a small fortune by now.’

‘He’s got his own house, Mum.’

‘Well, I think it’s very suspect, and I’m not sure your father and I can get away. We’re so busy here, and just think of the expense. I’ve got a new commission; there are some beautiful panels in a local church, the one I showed you with the marvellous altar, and they’ve said I’m the only
person they trust them with. They practically begged me. It was very touching.’

‘It would only be for a few days, Mum.’

‘I suppose we could stay with you, but as for Vincent agreeing to give her away, I’ve never heard of anything so silly in all my life. If anyone is going to give her away it should be me. Or your father, although he’s bound to make a hash of it. No, I suppose it will have to be me. Tell her, would you?’

‘Tell her what?’

‘That I’ll give her away.’

‘I think that’s up to her, Mum, don’t you?’

‘I might have known I could count on you to be completely hopeless, as usual.’

I’m counting to ten now.

‘Are you still there, Josephine?’

I’m tempted to say no. I’m in the bath, please leave a message.

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘I’ll get your father to talk to her.’

‘Is his knee better?’

‘He’s absolutely fine – he was just being dramatic. You know what he’s like. The doctors have given him some tablets, and the stitches come out soon, I really don’t know what all the fuss was about.’

Actually, Dad never makes a fuss about anything, not even falling off a ladder and gashing his knee, but never mind.

‘My wrist is still total agony. In case you were wondering.’

Mum always invents a mystery ailment if anyone in the family has anything medical going on: when I was having Jack she had an appendix drama, and with Archie it was an invisible neck injury that required one of those plastic neck
braces. Which she kept taking off when she thought nobody was looking.

‘Oh dear.’

‘I’m sure I’ve fractured it. I don’t trust the doctors here, but I’m going to a nice man now who does herbal healing, and he says he can’t believe how I’ve managed to cope with such pain. He’s very expensive, of course, but worth it. I’ll call you later in the week then, so you have time to talk some sense into her. Night, darling.’

Bloody hell.

I’ll call Vin tomorrow and we can try to work out how to handle this; he’s usually much better at dealing with Mum than I am, mainly because he tends to completely ignore her. But I’m determined she won’t end up spoiling things for Gran. Perhaps her new herbalist could make up a special Don’t Ruin Your Mother’s Wedding potion: a bit of chamomile, maybe, with a spot of arsenic. Or perhaps she might not make it over in time; I wonder how much you’d have to pay Easy Jet to divert to somewhere unusual: Reykjavik maybe, or a disused airbase somewhere, with no telephones.