The morning after, I woke with a dull feeling of tiredness still. The bubbles and excitement of our quiet celebration had kept me and Rowan awake until the early hours of the morning. We’d stayed at mine – to avoid his noisy, nosy housemates – and as the sunlight flooded in through wildflower-print curtains, I thought everything in the world was a bit perfect. I rolled over to face Rowan’s side, though, and saw that perfect or not, I was waking up alone. The bathroom door was wide open, too, so that ruled out him disappearing for a morning wee. It crossed my mind for the flicker of a second that he might be making breakfast for us both, but I laughed the thought away.
‘Not that future husband of mine,’ I said quietly into the room to try the phrase on for size. It didn’t taste right yet, though, and I thought that was even more reason to keep trying. ‘Future husband, dear future husband …’ I kept going until I broke out into a gentle hum of music, my bum moving in sync to my song as I danced flat against the bedsheets.
‘It is bloody connected to the Wi-Fi.’
The words burst in from the living room and brought with them a horrible realisation: He’s calling his parents. The night before we’d agreed to call his today. Out of our respective relatives, they were the trickier customers and so, bloated on bubbles and bright-eyed feelings, we’d agreed to tell them before telling mine. And he’s coming good on the promise, I thought as I threw back the duvet and climbed out of bed. I plodded to the bathroom and considered nesting there. But I couldn’t spend the entire Skype call hidden away. To start with, Rowan would think I was having an IBS flare-up; and second, Mum had raised me better than to ignore my in-laws.
I heard the ringer for the video call, so quickly pulled my hair into a ponytail – and arranged my face in a suitable smile. Rowan tapped the seat next to him when I walked into the living room.
‘Come on, it’ll be fine.’
‘Rowan, dear.’ I heard her before I could see her. ‘Oh, and Edith.’ My stomach turned at the thought of her being able to see me already; like she was some kind of wildlife predator, higher up the food chain. The screen flickered then, though, and both his parents came into view. Rowan’s dad was smiling. Rowan’s mum was the sort of woman who surely asked her facial technician to make it impossible for her to smile – or frown. ‘It’s so lovely to see you both.’
‘You’re looking well,’ Gregory said – always Gregory, never Greg, I had learnt early on – although it wasn’t clear whether he was speaking to one or both of us. ‘Wonderful to be able to have a chat, too. Penny and I are delighted with the news, of course. Marvellous, just – truly, a huge congratulations to you both.’
When did he tell them? I tried to keep my face neutral. But for them to already know, he must have told them before he called. And if he told them before he called then he must have broken our pact from the night before and, what, texted them?
‘Thanks so much, Dad.’
‘Thanks, Gregory.’ The excitement overrode the irritation, and I was painfully aware of the growing grin that gave me the appearance of a woman who’d slept with a hanger in her mouth. ‘It was such a beautiful surprise.’
Meanwhile, Penny managed to raise something that wasn’t quite a grunt, as though even being disinterested was too much cheer for the occasion. ‘A surprise for us, too,’ she said, although the remark went uncommented on.
Rowan tried to steer the conversation. ‘You’re looking well also, the pair of you. North is treating you well?’ Out of view of the camera he felt around for my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. It was a sore point, that Rowan’s parents had moved so far out of Birmingham. Rowan didn’t mind it much. But his parents – despite him being in his final year of university, with a house for afterwards already lined up – had expected him to move with them. When he’d asked what would happen to his relationship with me, his mother had said, ‘Well, if Edith really wants to be a part of this family …’
‘It is, immensely well, boy, immensely,’ Gregory answered, and Penny grumbled again. They’d moved there because Gregory – the owner of four high-end car dealerships in our hometown – had decided to try to conquer a different part of the country, with a new set of partners to support the venture. He was essentially a car salesman, but the first time I’d said that he’d gave me such a fierce look that I’d thought he might never speak to me again. I was thirteen at the time. I hadn’t made that mistake again. ‘We’re getting a lot of interest up here with hiring firms, people who aren’t necessarily looking to buy, but for their companies they’d like to …’ He then went on to explain the definition of what it meant to hire a car, in case Rowan and I weren’t sure. And this is what you’re marrying into. I squeezed Rowan’s hand again and tried to tune back in. ‘… some of the older clients from that way.’
‘Your father is excited at the prospect of turning the wedding into a large-scale business meeting.’
‘We’d better get a big enough venue then.’ Rowan forced a laugh. ‘So, Mum—’
‘Actually, son,’ Gregory interrupted. He put his arm around Penny and gave her a squeeze. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of work with the Flynns.’ From the look on Penny’s face, an ignorant bystander might think someone had just announced she were pregnant with a litter of piglets. It was the most animated I’d seen her in years. And it was the most contact I’d seen Rowan’s parents have with each other. ‘You remember them, don’t you? Skye’s parents?’
Rowan matched the gesture to give me a hug. But it was too late; I’d already started to fall to pieces – and I imagined my expression wasn’t too dissimilar to Penny’s now either. ‘I’m so sorry, can you excuse me for a minute?’ I didn’t wait for anyone’s approval before standing up and scooting out of the room, though. I only hovered outside to make sure I didn’t miss too much.
I took deep belly breaths while Gregory explained how helpful it might be – to them, of course, two-fifths of bugger all to do with us – if the Flynns could be invited to the wedding party. Rowan had three false starts before he answered. ‘I can throw names around with Edi later. We haven’t exactly started planning.’
‘Of course, boy, of course. Think it through.’
‘Fuck’s sake, Parcell,’ I whispered on my way back to the kitchen, ‘get a grip of yourself.’ Everything I did, I did with the brute force of a hundred women scorned by their in-laws. ‘What an ugly cliché.’ Bang went the fridge door as I took out the milk. ‘What a horrible, boring thing to take umbrage with.’ Bang it went again when I replaced the carton. I left our teabags in to stew – don’t I just know how that feels – and fished around in the freezer to see what I could throw in the oven for breakfast. ‘This will not be a bad day,’ I said under my breath as I moved about the kitchen. ‘Today will not be a bad day. Today will not be a bad day. Today will not be—’
‘With all this talk of how well the business is doing—’ Penny had taken over talking; the rise in volume significant enough to carry through to me ‘—what your father means to say is that we’d like to contribute to the costs, when you get to a point of needing the help.’ And even though she hadn’t outright said as much – and wouldn’t, because it wasn’t her style – the offer itself felt like a judgement on Mum and Dad. They were meant to pay, of course, if tradition had anything to do with the wedding.
‘Mum.’ Rowan sounded like a nervous schoolboy. ‘Edi and I haven’t said as much. But we’ve always been equal in things and, really, I think …’ I felt my tummy tense. If Rowan knew me as well as I hoped, then the only possible thing he could say next was: ‘Edi and I would really like to pay for the wedding ourselves, or pay for as much of it as we can. We’d like to start married life equally, financially and all, as we mean to go on.’
I dropped myself hard against the kitchen counter, exhaled and smiled – the same coat-hanger smile from earlier. So he does know me that well. ‘Today will not be a bad day,’ I said again as I flicked the kettle on. I was preheating the oven by the time they’d arrived on the topic of grandchildren, they being Penny – ‘Of course, you’ll be thinking of where in the country is best to raise children before you know it’ – but I did a fine job of convincing myself the worst was over with. ‘Today will not be a bad day.’ Realistically I knew the worst – the absolute worst – had already happened. ‘Today will not be—’
‘Bloody right it won’t,’ Rowan interrupted from the doorway.
I froze, bum in the air and head buried in the second drawer of the freezer. ‘It won’t be.’ He didn’t say anything until I’d righted myself.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Of course!’ I made an effort to lower the falsetto into something that didn’t sound quite so utterly fake. ‘Of course. I didn’t hear you finish.’
He crossed the kitchen to join me, then, as though sure he’d dipped a proverbial toe in the waters. He grabbed at my hips and my mind flashed back to the night before; our first time having sex with a ring on my finger although it hadn’t felt any different – and I knew Molly would ask. ‘Parcell, are you in here making breakfast sandwiches without me?’
‘I am if I can find the sausages.’
‘Third drawer.’ He let me go, then, and crossed to where the tea was still brewing. I imagined the brown particles that must have formed on top. Rowan hated that but I’d always quite liked them. ‘How much did you hear?’ he asked, stirring each drink in turn.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Nice try, but you heard the question.’
I dropped six sausages onto an oven tray. ‘How much do you want me to have heard?’
‘Wait …’ He cupped a hand around an ear. ‘Would that be thin ice I can hear cracking?’
‘Cute.’ I dropped the sausages back in the drawer and launched a search and rescue for hash browns. ‘I’m serious, though, babe. How much do you want me to have heard?’
‘I’m serious, though, babe.’ He matched my tone. ‘Come on, Edi, you aren’t that girl.’
I coughed. ‘“We’ve always been equal in things and, really, I think—”’
‘I don’t sound like that.’ He pushed a cup along the worktop towards me. ‘She’s fine with it, really. Mum just likes to throw Dad’s money around, doesn’t she? Meanwhile, Dad is – Christ, I don’t know. He’s more worried about work than anything. Which gives Mum too much time to think. When she has too much time to think, she …’ It felt like Rowan was getting tangled up in side issues, but I nodded along all the same from behind my mug. ‘Dad is happy for us.’ He hesitated before he added, ‘Mum will be when she’s bought something for us.’
‘Jesus.’ I opened the oven door and slid both trays in to cook. ‘Here’s hoping mine’ll take it better than yours. Fried bread?’
Rowan thought for a minute. ‘Sure, fuck it, we’re celebrating. Chuck me the loaf?’
‘Bedded and breakfast all in one morning.’ I pulled ingredients from the fridge and threw them one by one across the room. ‘A woman could easily get used to this.’