THE RELUCTANT BRIDE (22 page)

But
had any marriage ever begun so badly. She and Rod had scarcely spoken
to each other all week. When they were forced to meet, the air
between them crackled with hostility. Neither spoke of Sue Langdon –
perhaps it would have been better if they had – but she was
there between them nevertheless, and the girl's appearance, pale and
shadowed when she came back to Englands, only added fuel to
Gabriella's bitterness. Holiday indeed!

She
smoothed the folds of her veil beneath the circlet of pearls and tiny
cream rosebuds, struck by the falseness of the occasion. She felt
more like a sacrificial virgin than a bride. How could she get
through this dreadful wedding? Through the honeymoon, which she could
hardly bear to contemplate? Through the five long years before they
could be free of each other? One day at a time, Gabriella, one day
at a time. And with a smile on your face, so that no one else will
ever know.

A
ribbon-bedecked limousine was turning into the street. She closed the
window, picked up her bouquet, pinned on the first smile and went
down the stairs to where Uncle Richard waited for her.

****

Rod
turned to watch as she moved slowly down the aisle. He looked at her,
she thought, as if he had never seen her before. And Rod, so
handsome, so elegant in his pale grey morning coat, could have been a
stranger too. Briefly as she reached him his eyes held hers and she
wondered what thoughts lay behind that sombre gaze. Then the vicar
began the ceremony.

When
it was all over the trembling that had started when she entered the
church and that had been most pronounced when Rod was slipping the
ring on to her finger subsided. They were married now, there was
nothing she could do to change anything. And when they arrived at the
hotel for the reception a strange gaiety overcame her, which she
welcomed and helped along liberally with glasses of champagne. There
may have been an element of hysteria in it but she didn't care, as
long as it got her through the rest of the day.

Across
the hotel lounge Rod was talking to his mother and sister, who had
travelled from London that morning. He beckoned her over.

“
My
dear,” said Mrs Nicholson, “I wish so much for you both.
I'm just so sorry we haven't had an opportunity to meet before.
Roderic should have brought you to see us.”

Gabriella
had to look up to the older woman, who was as darkly elegant as Rod
and only a few inches shorter. She smiled, liking the woman. “I
wish we had, too, but it's been a busy time for both of us.”

“
And
this is my little sister,” said Rod, linking arms with the
equally tall Claire. “Micro mouse.”

“
Monster,”
rejoined Claire affectionately. “Welcome to the family,
Gabriella, and take no notice of our insults. We like each other
really. Gosh, you're a tiny little thing, aren't you? I think you're
even smaller than -” She stopped.

Than
what? Than whom?

“
Let's
go and talk to Helen,” said Rod, gathering the three of them
before him and ushering them across the room. “I think she
needs rescuing from the Vicar, and she can't exactly make a run for
it.”

Watching
as she greeted Mrs Nicholson and Claire, Gabriella was struck by how
much her mother had changed. She had forgotten how vivacious she
could be, how she could draw a group into shared laughter, hold the
centre of attention. It was the freedom from pain, the knowledge that
she was part of the world again that had brought about the change.

So
some good had come of it all. Whenever things became too unbearable
she would remember her mother, as she had been and how she was now.

Later
in the afternoon Rod appeared at her side. “We should go,”
he said. “We have to be at the airport by five o'clock.”

“
Am
I allowed to know yet where we're going?”

He
hesitated. “You may think it's a hackneyed choice -”

Rod
apologetic? I waited.

“
Actually,
it's Madeira. Sorry if you're disappointed, but with only a week -”
He shrugged.

“
Well,
as I've hardly been anywhere in the last eight years, and as it's
hardly a honeymoon, I don't really care,” she said.

Madeira.
Island of flowers. Quite a romantic choice for a honeymoon –
but there would be nothing romantic about this honeymoon.

When
she had changed into a light linen suit and laid her tissue-wrapped
bridal gown back in its box they said their goodbyes.

Once
again Mrs Stevens was tearful but she dashed the tears away and
beamed at them both. “Have a wonderful, wonderful honeymoon!
It's the happiest time of your lives!”

Hugging
her, Gabriella wished fervently that she could stay and let Rod go on
honeymoon alone. It seemed to her that in the laughing group of
friends and relatives that were gathered together, the only unhappy
people were the bride and groom.

“
A
kiss for the bride!” Jamie Wright, Rod's best man, was
approaching her, arms extended, cravat askew and sandy hair standing
on end. He had clearly had more than sufficient to drink and she
looked round for Rod but he was saying goodbye to Mrs Nicholson and
Claire.

Swinging
her off the ground in a bear hug, Jamie planted a smacking kiss on
her cheek and gazed at her owlishly. “You're a lovely girl, Gab
– Gab – Gab whatever. Long live both of you.” He
sighed. “Never thought I'd be best man again for Rod, not after
the lovely Caroline. Just shows to go – goes to show –
never know what's in the future, eh? Red!” He flapped his arm
as Rod joined them. “Just exercising my pre – pre whatsit
as best man, want to wish you all the best.”

Rod
smiled and shook his hand, managing to draw him towards a chair into
which he fell in a heap. “Thanks, Jamie, thanks for everything.
I should have a little snooze and some black coffee if I were you.
And I'll be in touch when we're back.” He turned to Gabriella
and smiled. “Ready?”

For
the sake of those watching she smiled back. “Ready.”

It
was not until they were on the plane that she asked him about
Caroline.

He
closed his eyes for a moment before he answered. His voice was bored,
clipped. “We were married for two years. Then we got divorced
and went our separate ways.”

“
Why
did she divorce you?”

He
raised his eyebrows. “Why do you assume
she
divorced
me
?”

“
Because
I can't imagine any woman wanting to stay married to you.” She
could see a muscle twitching in his cheek and knew she should stop
but she couldn't. “Why didn't you tell me you'd been married
before?”

“
I
didn't think it was any of your business.”

“
Of
course it's my business. I'm your wife now, however much I might wish
not to be.”

He
turned to her then and his voice was a harsh whisper. “If I
loved you, Gabriella – and if you loved me – I would have
told you long ago. But as things are, I don't think it's in the least
relevant and it's a subject that I find particularly boring. So will
you please shut up and read a magazine or something!”

She
opened her mouth to argue but Rod had turned away from her and was
unfolding his newspaper with a savagery that almost ripped the pages
apart. She had no option but to drop the subject. Pulling the airline
magazine from the seat pocket she stared at an article about New
England in the Fall. The words could have been Chinese for all the
sense they made but she stared at them anyway. At her side Rod
appeared to be concentrating on the back page of the Telegraph. She
sensed that he wasn't reading either.

It
was a relief when the stewards began to serve dinner. Opening the
various containers and nibbling at the contents gave her something to
do, although she had little appetite and the food was bland. She
drank the wine quickly, hoping it would anaesthetise her against the
hard knot of pain that lay somewhere between her heart and her
stomach.

Why
should it hurt so much? At thirty two it wasn't unnatural that he
should have collected a wife along the way. Caroline. She tested the
name, trying to picture her. Small, according to Claire. And Jamie
had described her as lovely. Did Rod still think of her, did she
still mean something to him. And what if she did? It was none of
Gabriella's business, as Rod had been quick to point out.

If
he'd loved her, he said, he would have told her. And he hadn't told
her. And that's what hurt. That he hadn't cared enough to mention
something that all his friends and family knew, that even Jenny, she
realised now, and possibly everyone else at Englands already knew.
Oh, by the way, thought you might like to know I've got an ex-wife –
just in case anyone brings it up at the wedding!

A
stewardess returned with a pot of coffee. Attractive, well groomed,
smiling, carefree. Gabriella envied her although commonsense told her
that other people's lives were not always what they seemed.
Struggling up and down narrow gangways with trolleys of duty-frees,
booze and packaged meals was not everyone's idea of a glamorous job
and for all Gabriella knew the girl might be suffering from
unrequited love for the pilot.

Love.
Be thankful that you don't love Rod, that you couldn't possibly,
ever, love Rod. Because if you did he would break your heart.

She
turned to the window and stared hard at the pink tinged carpet of
cloud below the plane.

Silently
he passed her a handkerchief.

“
Thank
you.” She blew her nose.

He
heaved an exasperated sigh. “Look, I'm sorry. Is there anything
else you want to know about me?”

Yes.
Everything. What does she mean to you now? And Sue Langdon. How
important is she to you? And when you make love together do you talk
about me? And me, Rod, did you feel anything at all for me when you
kissed me, when you comforted me? She stopped, appalled at the
direction her thoughts were taking. She was acting like a lovesick
idiot. She didn't love Rod. And yet. He mattered. And deep down, if
she were completely honest with herself, she had to admit that he had
always
mattered, right from the beginning, right from the day when Ben had
introduced them and he had taken her hand in his large one and smiled
down at her. There had been a warm impudence in his dark eyes, a lazy
awareness in his smile that had drawn her with such strength that she
had wanted to step back, like someone fearful of heights who stood
too close to a cliff edge, and she had known that this was a man she
couldn't afford to like.