Chocolate Shoes and Wedding Blues. Trisha Ashley

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СКАЧАТЬ you tell her to draw her horns in a bit?’ I asked. Not that I was suggesting she really had a devilish little pair of horns, you understand, though sometimes I’d suspected there might be, under that bouffant beige-blond hair. And maybe there was even a hint of a forked tail under her cocktail frocks. …

      ‘I’m doing my best,’ he protested.

      ‘No, you’ve been putting her before me and any chance of a family,’ I pointed out bitterly, a bit stunned by this revelation. ‘Anyway, children aren’t that expensive. They don’t have to go to private nurseries and prep schools, or expensive boarding schools. We could manage. Assuming I can still get pregnant, of course.’

      ‘Oh, come on, Tansy,’ he said impatiently, ‘of course you can get pregnant!’

      ‘Justin, I’m serious: I went to a private clinic and had a fertility MOT and it wasn’t the best result possible.’

      ‘You did that, without telling me?’ he said, looking taken aback.

      ‘I tried to discuss it, but you kept shying away from the subject. Anyway, I did it, and although it showed I still had some eggs, I’m running out of time.’

      He came over and sat next to me on the sofa, putting his arm around me. ‘I’m sure they were just erring on the side of caution, Tansy, and things aren’t that bad,’ he suggested. ‘You’re only thirty-six, after all.’

      I turned to him. ‘Justin, what’s happened to us? When we got engaged there wasn’t any talk about waiting for children. We were going to start a family as soon as we got married. Not that we’ve got married, either, have we? I thought you were joking when you said we’d set a date for the wedding as soon I got down to a size eight, but you weren’t!’

      ‘I just want you to slim down for your health’s sake. You’re carrying a bit too much weight … though sometimes it’s hard to tell under all those weird outfits you wear,’ he added, eyeing today’s bright pink and orange ensemble critically. ‘Isn’t it time to stop dressing like an art student and smarten up a bit? Mother said you would look quite chic with a decent haircut and in the right clothes.’

      ‘I’m surprised she remembers what I look like at all!’ I said tartly. ‘And she wouldn’t like me even if I’d been gilded by Cartier and dressed by Gucci. But you used to say my clothes were zany and fun, just like me, and you didn’t like skinny women.’

      ‘There’s something between skinny and overweight, though,’ he said.

      ‘Well, whatever I am, Aunt Nan says I look fine to her. And goodness knows, dieting never works – it just makes me hungrier, so I go off the rails and eat much more. It’s a vicious circle.’

      ‘Your aunt Nan doesn’t like me. I think she’s been poisoning your mind about me over Christmas and getting you all upset,’ he said, which was pretty rich when Mummy Dearest must have spent the entire Christmas season pointing out all my shortcomings!

      ‘Aunt Nan expected us to get married long before this. She doesn’t believe in living together beforehand; it’s not how she was brought up and it upsets her. But at least she wants us to get married – your mother’s desperate to get rid of me.’

      ‘Of course she isn’t,’ he insisted unconvincingly. ‘You have to admit, though, that we don’t have a lot in common, so naturally she’s worried that things wouldn’t work out. Perhaps you could try to win her round a bit – wear something a little more ordinary when you see her next.’

      ‘I don’t have anything more “ordinary”, and the way I dress expresses the inner me – so if you don’t like that, or my weight, then maybe you don’t really like me either?’

      ‘Of course I do – I love you!’ he protested. ‘And if you lost a stone, not only would you be healthier, but it would increase your chances of getting pregnant too – and you wouldn’t want to start a pregnancy overweight, would you? You’d never get the excess off afterwards. Look at Leonie!’

      Leonie, one of his friends’ wives, had gone from being a bonily chic woman, all knobbly joints and neck tendons like a chicken, to a plump, dishevelled mother in the space of a year.

      ‘She looks fine to me, better than she did before the baby,’ I said.

      ‘Do you think so?’ He smiled at me ruefully with a sort of boyish charm and I remembered Aunt Nan’s Dr Kildare remark. When Justin looked most trustworthy, was he really the opposite?

      ‘Let’s not argue about it any more now, Tansy. I can see what the clinic said upset you, though I’m sure they were being alarmist. And Mother really has been insensitive about your things, so I promise I’ll speak firmly to her about it. We can sort things out.’

      ‘Do you still love me, Justin?’ I asked curiously, half-afraid of the answer.

      ‘Of course I do,’ he assured me, giving me another hug. ‘Look, perhaps we just haven’t spent enough time together lately. I’m working all hours, and what with you off to Lancashire a couple of times a month and Mother wanting to see as much of me as she can, the opportunities have been few and far between.’

      ‘And the golf, don’t forget – you weren’t addicted to that when we first met!’

      ‘It’s healthy to get out and about. You should try it.’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ I said firmly.

      We used to get out and about together, taking walks in the park, but it was a long time since we’d done that, and even our social lives had been becoming increasingly separate. I didn’t much care for his friends and their wives, and he loathed my more bohemian circle. He wasn’t even that keen on Bella, who wasn’t arty in the least!

      ‘I can see we both need to make some changes – and some plans. I’ll tell Mother I can’t keep helping her out financially, for a start,’ he promised, a new light of determination in his eyes.

      He gave me another, enveloping hug and kissed me. ‘We’ve been drifting apart, and we mustn’t let that happen. Let’s go away after the New Year on our own and have a romantic break – talk things through and make some decisions about our future.’

      ‘Not at your mother’s or somewhere near a golf course?’ I asked suspiciously.

      ‘No, some little country hotel we’ve never been to before.’

      I relaxed, feeling that perhaps there was hope of rekindling our love after all. ‘Sounds perfect!’

      Chapter 4: Philtred Out

       My youngest sister Violet – or Viola, as she called herself later, when she turned into little Miss Fancy Pants – was tall and fair like Mother, and so was her daughter, Imogen. She and her husband adopted Imogen, but she was a Bright all right – I’ll get to that later, dear. I’m not ready to talk about it just yet. You let me work up to it in my own time. And I’m afraid it’s all going to come as a bit of a shock to my niece, Tansy …

       Now, wet the tea leaves and we’ll have another brew, because my throat’s that parched from all this talking!

      Middlemoss СКАЧАТЬ