| |
Since he had told me that I was to be married, Father seemed to push me out of his way. When I tapped on his study door the following morning with a glass of water and some biscuits, he had waved me away with an impatient and fluttering hand. He insisted on eating dinner alone in there too, shooing me away once more as he mumbled about being terribly busy and having lots to arrange. I felt a crawling, curling feeling in my stomach, and my chest felt empty. It seemed as though in his mind, I had already left him.
For three days I barely saw him. I heard nothing of the wedding, I didn’t dare bring it up. It seemed wrong to try and break the silence Father so determinedly surrounded himself with. On the fourth day we received a note, delivered by a woman in black who hurried away without a word. Father snatched the note from my hand and squirreled himself away for a few hours. It wasn’t until the shadows had lengthened and the tallow candles had been lit that I was called in to the study. I can’t describe how it felt in there, other than that it seemed as though the wall of silence had dissolved into a heavy mist. Father looked puffy and damp, although he was perfectly dry.
‘Mr Raynor has written,’ he said, holding the note between his short, thick fingers and flicking it this way and that.
‘Oh,’ I said, as the silence suggested that I give an answer. ‘What did he say?’
Father scowled and huffed.
‘Arrangements, you know. Times, dates, places and whatnot. He wants us – ah, that is to say, you, to be prepared. He’s a very organised man, Mr Raynor. You’d do well to remember that. He likes things just so.’
‘Oh.’ The silence again, as Father stared glumly at his desk, where the note sat folded in front of him.
‘Yes. Well, I suppose it’s a good thing in a way, because it means that there really isn’t a terribly large amount for us- that is, for me to do. It is usually the bride’s father, in these situations, I hear, so...’
Father looked flustered, and two pink spots appeared high on his cheeks. I noticed an empty glass at his elbow, and the dusty old bottle which had been kept in the back of the kitchen cupboard for as long as I could remember stood on the floor, and wasn’t so dusty anymore.
‘There’s really nothing for you or me to do, Fleur, but wait, and obviously, you know, be there for the wedding.’
‘When is it to be, Father?’
‘What? Oh, you mean the wedding. Of course.’ Father cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times. ‘Thursday.’
‘So soon?’
‘Not soon enough, eh?’ He grinned, and it was unnerving. ‘Least said, soonest mended. Or, is that right? I can’t remember. I called you in here for – ah yes. Well, there is something we need to do, to prepare. Or that I need to do, to tell you about, so you are prepared, as Mr Raynor likes to be prepared. As I said. Didn’t I say that?’
I nodded, and rubbed at a patch of rough skin on my finger.
‘I did? Good. Well, the thing of it is, Fleur, that this isn’t really something I wanted to have to speak to you about.’ Father tugged at his collar, although it was already loose. ‘If you had some sort of female – your mother would have been best, but unfortunately... but another woman would have been better than me.’
I watched Father with concern as he tugged at his collar again before reaching across to the glass, and dropping his arm on the desk when he saw that it was empty. He shook his head, then cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
‘When you’re married, there are things that are expected of you. By your husband. Erm, demands, if you like, that he will make on your time. For children. So, you can have children. Do you know what I’m talking about?’
I gave a shrug and bit my lip. His discomfort was infectious.
‘Ah. At night, probably the night of your wedding, perhaps not, but at night he will come to your bed and ah- I won’t – that is to say, it would really be extraneous to go into any detail beyond the fact that you must be prepared for him to- ah, to expect you to be expecting him. If you understand me.’
I didn’t.
‘He’ll just- he might not be wearing clothes. You should be aware of that. He might. I don’t know.’ Father started to laugh, a desperate howl that quickly stopped when he saw that I wasn’t laughing too. ‘Ahem. Just... I should probably tell you that it’s all perfectly normal and nothing to be scared of. It won’t be very nice, but if you just, I don’t know, think of something else, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just don’t say anything. You don’t have to move, and it’ll be fine. You can close your eyes, if you like.’
He looked triumphant as he gave a decisive nod and began to reach for his empty glass again, scowling at it when he realised.
‘For children?’ I asked finally. ‘He’s going to come into my room, and I shan’t enjoy it, but it’ll mean I will have children?’
‘Oh yes. I knew you’d pick it up. It’s perfectly normal. Nothing to worry about. Just, ah- just thought you should know. You’ll want children, of course.’
‘I hadn’t really-’
‘That wasn’t too bad, was it?’ Father laughed again and smoothed the note on his desk with unsteady hands. ‘Nothing to worry about. All sorted. Jolly good. You can go now.’
‘Well, I-’
‘Yes, that’ll be all. See you tomorrow, Fleur.’
As I left, he reached for the glass again.