The Witness at the Wedding. Simon Brett

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘When you say “work on”, do you mean manipulate it?’

      ‘No, I’m not an osteopath. And what’s wrong with you doesn’t need the attentions of an osteopath. You’re just out of balance. You need to get yourself back in alignment.’

      As she spoke, Jude was opening a bottle of oil on the table. A herbal aroma, redolent of Mediterranean hillsides, joined the scent from the candles. Jude poured oil on her hands, rubbed them together, and wiped the excess off with a small white towel. Then once again she stood over the girl on the couch.

      ‘So it won’t hurt?’ asked Gaby.

      ‘No. It certainly won’t give you any more pain. And, hopefully, it will diminish the pain you’re already suffering.’ Jude put her hands again on the small of Gaby’s back, and started to move her fingers. There was only the slightest of pressure, but the placing of the fingertips was very exact.

      Gaby sighed, as she felt the warmth melt into her locked-up vertebrae.

      ‘Funny,’ she said drowsily. ‘“Out of balance.” That’s what you say when someone’s off their rocker. Well, not that exactly. “Unbalanced”, I suppose is what you say.’

      ‘Very sensible description. Amazing how many of our bodily metaphors actually work on the literal level. You speak of someone “being on the back foot”. That’s how they are physically when confronting danger. “Showing a bit of backbone”, “backing off,” “putting someone’s back up”, “putting someone’s back out” – they all mean exactly what they say.’

      ‘Mm . . .’ Gaby murmured.

      There was no effort in the movement of Jude’s hands, but there was an intensity about her body. Though her ministrations seemed minimal, almost casual, a lot of energy was being put into her actions.

      ‘So,’ she asked lightly, ‘can you think of anything specific that may have “put your back out”?’

      ‘I don’t know . . .’ But the words weren’t said as a deterrent. As Gaby relaxed, she seemed increasingly ready to talk.

      Jude let the silence continue between them, knowing that, in her own time, Gaby would break it.

      ‘Well, you know I’m getting married?’

      ‘I certainly do. Living next door to Carole, there is absolutely no way I couldn’t know that you were getting married. She’s very excited about it.’

      ‘Yes, so’s everyone.’

      Jude caught on to the wistfulness in the girl’s words. ‘Meaning you’re not?’

      ‘No, not meaning that at all. I’m as excited about it as anyone else. God, they’re all sick to death of me at work. They can’t wait till I actually am married, and then they hope I’ll stop talking about it.’

      Again Jude let the silence stand. She wasn’t probing. If Gaby wanted to volunteer more . . .

      Inevitably, Gaby did. ‘I’m ecstatic about getting married. Steve’s the man I’ve been looking for all my life. And he seems to feel the same about me, which I sometimes can’t believe, but deep down I know it’s true.’

      ‘Sounds pretty good to me,’ said Jude.

      ‘Yes.’ Again the slight wistfulness.

      ‘What is it that you think attracts you and Stephen to each other?’

      ‘I don’t know. Don’t like to question it too much. If you analyse things, you can spoil them.’

      ‘Very true.’

      ‘But I think with us – well, we have a lot of similarities in the way we were brought up – I mean, very different homes, but both homes where – well, there were always secrets – nobody quite said exactly what they meant—’ Suddenly Gaby was aware of who she was talking to. She shifted her head sideways to look apologetically at Jude – a movement, incidentally, that she couldn’t have performed twenty minutes earlier. ‘I’m terribly sorry. Carole’s your friend, isn’t she?’

      ‘Yes, she’s my friend, but that doesn’t mean I have any illusions about how relaxed or otherwise she is in her approach to life.’ Jude’s grin took the edge off her words.

      Gaby grinned too as she straightened back out on the couch. ‘So Steve grew up where there was always tension between his parents.’

      ‘Carole’s never talked to me much about her marriage.’

      ‘No. I get the feeling she has put the lid firmly down on that particular pressure cooker. But according to Steve, the atmosphere at home wasn’t great, even before they started thinking about the divorce. He coped as kids do – putting his head down, getting on with his school work, trying to avoid situations in which he might be expected to take sides. And then, like me, getting the hell out of the family home at the first opportunity. So I think that inculcated a kind of . . . I was about to say deviousness, but let’s call it caution, in his approach to life.’

      ‘And where does your deviousness – or caution – come from?’ asked Jude casually. ‘From what Carole told me, your parents seem to be absolutely devoted to each other.’

      ‘Yes, they are, but, you know, there were things in their past history, things that happened before they got married. My grandfather died around that time, and then Grand’mère had a major breakdown and . . .’ The deviousness – or caution – which Gaby had been talking about asserted itself, and her words trickled away to silence.

      Jude let the stillness continue, as her fingertips fluttered over the slowly unknotting muscles of the girl’s lower back. She knew that, when she was ready, Gaby would again pick up the conversation.

      ‘And I think it’s that that’s making me tense.’

      ‘The baggage of the past?’ Jude hazarded.

      ‘Mm. No worries about marrying Steve.’

      ‘Worries about having a family?’

      Jude had hit a spot there. ‘Slight anxiety, I suppose. The fact is, I was born quite premature and – I mean, I’ve been absolutely fine since, but maybe it was touch and go when I was born.’

      ‘Have you talked to your mother about that?’

      Gaby laughed at the preposterousness of the suggestion. ‘You don’t know my mother. I’m afraid that kind of detail doesn’t get talked about in the Martin household.’

      ‘Oh. So are you really worried about your ability to have healthy children?’

      ‘No, not really. Well, it’s another worry to add to the list, you know, when my head’s full of worries, but not really a problem.’ With a visible effort, the girl pulled herself together. ‘No. As I say, no worries about marrying Steve. No worries about the arrangements either, really. I know we’ve left it late, and I’m sure there’ll be various panics and crises along the way, but equally I know we’ll be able to cope with them. Steve and I are both organizers by nature СКАЧАТЬ