Wise Follies (36 page)

Preparing the paintings is an excellent distraction from my wedding – I am not a traditionally thrilled bride. I hate all the fuss and lists and discussions about who we should invite. Thank goodness Eamon is taking care of most of these details. He seems to enjoy that kind of thing. I already have quite a number of paintings that could be exhibited. During the past week I’ve been frenziedly getting on with some new ones. Liam says a friend of his will frame them for me at a discount.

I must say, Liam is turning out to be quite a nice neighbour. He’s encouraging. I no longer get encouragement mixed up with attraction and anyway he’s as much as told me that he’s mended his ways – that he’s no longer going to be unfaithful to Elsie. I discovered this the other day when he asked me why Mira was looking so sad. I told him, in strict confidence of course, that the man she loves had gone off with someone else, though I didn’t give him the background details.

‘Oh, poor Mira,’ he said. ‘Loyalty is so important. You can’t have a good relationship without trust.’

‘Absolutely,’ I said, beaming at him. I feel much more comfortable about being with him since he said that. We’re almost friends now, though I wish he’d watch
Neighbours
on television and not me. I still see him watching me from his upstairs window sometimes. These days I usually smile back at him and wave. People can get into funny habits and that’s obviously one of his. I don’t think we’ll ever be that close. Strangely enough I haven’t even told him about Eamon. I’ve meant to, many times, but just as I’m about to say it we end up talking about something else. Anyway, he himself rarely mentions Elsie. We tend to talk about Mrs Peabody and gardening and my paintings. But I no longer feel the need to put up those net curtains. Especially now that I’ve learned he and Elsie are going to be husband and wife.

I discovered this when I was looking at wedding dresses in a shop the other day. As I browsed around I noticed Elsie looking at them too. ‘Hello!’ she said when she saw me. ‘Liam has been telling me about your exhibition. He’s very excited about it.’

‘Yes, he’s been very helpful,’ I smiled, then I added slyly, ‘They have quite a good range in here, don’t they? Are you choosing a wedding dress for yourself?’

‘Yes, I am, Alice,’ she said. ‘I find this stuff’s a bit formal. I don’t want to look like a meringue.’

‘I know exactly what you mean,’ I sighed. ‘I wish we could just wear jeans and a jumper.’

‘I saw you looking at the bridesmaids’ dresses just now,’ she said. ‘Is a friend of yours getting married?’

‘No, I am,’ I said, slightly smugly. I wished I was wearing my engagement ring – it’s the solitaire I chose some time ago but I keep forgetting to put it on. ‘My housemate Mira is going to be my bridesmaid,’ I added. ‘I’d like to find her something nice.’

As I spoke I realized that Elsie was looking at me extremely oddly. She definitely seemed somewhat surprised. ‘The turquoise dresses over there are quite pretty,’ she commented, rather curtly it seemed to me. Then she made some desultory remarks about raw silk and slunk off towards the veils. I think she must be a rather moody person. I hope Liam has made the right choice.

I did choose a raw silk wedding dress actually. It’s cream with a slight tinge of blush pink. It has rosebuds round the bodice and is rather charming. Mira is very pleased with her dress too. It’s much the same as mine, only less flouncy. I’m rather relieved that the dress business is sorted out. I’m getting married in twelve days’ time…

Twelve days’ time… I must say I do sometimes feel a pang of panic about my forthcoming nuptials. Nearly every bride does, I think. It’s not uncommon. I think that’s why I threw away my diaphragm really – it was one way of making sure I didn’t chicken out. I’ve been avoiding Annie. She’s still trying to persuade me to wait for Mr Wonderful. ‘The dress is beautiful,’ she told me. ‘Keep it and find another man.’

‘Oh, shut up, Annie,’ I said to her. ‘You can just feck off if you’re going to keep saying that kind of thing.’ I was amazed at my own rudeness, and so was she. She left shortly afterwards.

I have been a bit irritable lately. There’s so much going on and I suppose I feel under a bit of pressure. I haven’t even been very nice to Eamon. When he rang to ask whether I wanted the ceremony videotaped I said, ‘Well, I doubt if I’ll want to watch it again – but you can if you want.’ I hurt him. I know I did. He went all silent and I didn’t even apologize.

‘What’s wrong, Alice?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ I said petulantly. Afterwards I flung paint at a canvas, not caring where it landed.

Actually, Eamon’s in the cottage now, and I’ve scarcely spoken to him. I’ve told him I’m busy preparing the list of invitations for the exhibition and he’s just remarked, rather pointedly, that he wishes I’d shown the same interest in our wedding guests.

‘Look, I wanted a simple ceremony. It’s you that’s turning it into a Cecil B. De Mille job,’ I bark at him. ‘And why have you invited your business associates to the reception? I thought it was just supposed to be for family and close friends.’

‘We discussed all this, Alice,’ he says wearily. ‘You didn’t seem to mind before.’

‘Well, I do now,’ I reply, unreasonably. Then I go into the bathroom, hoping that my periods have arrived. They’re due around now. In fact they’re a bit late. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t thrown away my diaphragm. I bought a box of condoms the other day and insisted that Eamon use them.

After I come out of the bathroom I go into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine. As I sit there alone I hear Eamon and Mira talking very easily and comfortably together. Amazingly, she’s telling him about Frank. She rarely confides in people and he’s being very understanding. Very kind. When I return they look up at me almost reluctantly. I feel like an intruder. ‘Fancy a bit of Wensleydale?’ I ask, trying hard to be civil. ‘I bought some today at Superquinn.’

‘Yes, that would be lovely, Alice,’ Mira says. When I come back with the cheese I find them earnestly discussing motorbikes. Eamon wants to get a motorbike apparently. He never told me this. As we polish off a bottle of wine he also reveals that he’d wanted to be a musician when he left school. He was particularly ‘drawn to the cello’ apparently.

‘Ah yes, I’ve always loved the cello myself,’ Mira comments. I watch them talking. It’s amazing. Eamon is being so open. Why isn’t he like that with me? ‘Well, I’d better leave you two lovebirds to talk,’ Mira says eventually, getting up to go to her room. I wish she hadn’t used that description. It suddenly feels so entirely, so almost ridiculously untrue. In fact, at this precise moment the only birds I would liken Eamon and myself to are Cyril and Dora. My forthcoming marriage is beginning to seem like a cage suddenly. I am not prepared for the wave of dread that overcomes me. It’s as if I’m seeing the whole situation for the first time. I look at Eamon and I realize he is almost a stranger. A nice man, yes, but not someone who will ever understand me. And why should he? Because I don’t understand him. I’ve been so horrible to him lately. Is that the kind of wife I’ll be? Irritable, complaining, hard? It was starting already. How could I have fooled myself quite so completely? Persuaded myself that I was being ‘sensible’?

As Mira leaves the room I find myself thinking about a question I’ve been wanting to ask Eamon for some time. Since he’s in an open mood this evening, maybe he will answer it.

‘Eamon,’ I say, ‘a friend of yours told me you “disappeared” earlier this year. That you were gone for some days without telling anyone. Where were you?’

He looks at me stony-faced.

‘Were you with someone?’ I continue. ‘I need to know. Tell me.’

‘I was on my own, Alice,’ he replies slowly. ‘I just wanted to get away for a while.’

‘Are you telling me the truth?’ I persist. ‘It sounds so unlike you.’

‘That’s what happened,’ he sighs. ‘I’d been having some disagreements in the office. I thought “Fuck them – I’m going off to clear my head.” Haven’t you ever felt like that?’ He studies me sadly.

‘Frequently,’ I say. ‘But I never thought you would.’

‘Well, I did.’

‘Why was there mud on your clothes?’ I pester. ‘Why did you come back unwashed and unshaven? You even had a tent in your car.’ I almost add ‘you made love to her under the stars, admit it. You were with a woman you love truly, wildly, helplessly’– only I don’t. I want him to tell me this himself. For some perverse reason I dearly wish that it’s the truth.

‘What exactly are you implying, Alice?’ Eamon regards me icily. ‘Why don’t you believe me?’

‘Because I think you were with someone,’ I say, angry now. ‘You were – go on – admit it.’

‘The fact is, Alice, that I went for a long hike up the mountains. It was wet out. I got muddy. I’m sorry if it’s not an exciting enough answer for you, but it’s the truth.’ Eamon is staring at me, crestfallen. I’ve never seen him look like that before.

I feel abjectly apologetic suddenly. ‘I’m sorry, Eamon,’ I whisper miserably. ‘I do believe you. Of course I do. It’s just…’

‘Just what?’

‘Oh, I dunno. Pre-wedding nerves or something. Please forgive me.’

He leans over and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he gets up. ‘Of course I do,’ he says. ‘Look, I’d better go now. I promised the lads I’d meet them for a pint in O’Driscolls.’

As I watch Eamon leave I know he’s keen to get away. When we marry I think he will often want to meet ‘the lads for a pint in O’Driscolls’. But then again, many men do.

‘You’ll be glad to know I’ve given Eamon a thorough vetting on your behalf,’ Mira calls out from her room as I watch Eamon’s car leave. ‘I know you’re still a little doubtful about this wedding, Alice, so I gave him a little ESK quiz.’

‘What do you mean?’ I frown.

‘I tried him out on Empathy, Sensitivity and Kindness. He came through it with flying colours.’

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Thanks.’

‘I’m so pleased you’re marrying him, Alice,’ Mira says as she returns to the sitting-room. ‘He’s special. Quite a find.’

‘I’m glad you think so,’ I say, trying to smile gratefully. It’s becoming rather clear that Mira is far more delighted about my wedding than I am. I can’t quite account for it. Maybe she’s enjoying ‘romance’ by association. And if she is, she can’t be quite as confirmed an eccentric spinster as she claims.

I go to my room and pick up a letter from Matt that I have not yet opened. I rip open the envelope and gaze gratefully at his large, even handwriting. ‘So pleased you’ve decided to exhibit your paintings at James’s studio,’ it says. ‘I’m getting the invitations printed. They’ll be ready by the time you come back from your honeymoon. Did you get the set of dinnerware we sent you? James designed it especially. It’s got small tropical fishes on it – I told him you like them. He sends you his love, and I do too.’

I look at the note numbly. I’m remembering how the small fishes in Laren’s bedroom used to remind me of hope. How it can glint and sparkle at you suddenly, at the most unexpected moments. I stare dully out the window.

Oh, how I wish it would glint and sparkle at me now.

Chapter
30

I am getting married
in seven days’ time. We’ve already had the rehearsal. Two hundred people are coming to the wedding. Some of my cousins are even flying in from Boston. Eamon’s house is jam packed with expensive presents. The cake’s been made and iced. Mrs Peabody has bought herself a most elaborate hat and even Annie has been persuaded to attend. Matt and James are coming too. I haven’t invited Liam. I don’t really know him well enough and anyway he’s been a bit cool with me over the last few days. I don’t know why. Perhaps he’s getting pre-wedding nerves too. I should tell him about the ‘Rescue Remedy’ I’ve bought. It’s in the ‘Bach Flower’ range. I take four drops of it in water at regular intervals. It does seem to help a bit, and I need it. Especially after what Eamon told me yesterday. He said he’d just heard that he, that is ‘we’, might be posted to Colombia before Christmas. It’s a year-long assignment.