CHAPTER 29
Ana
November 1995
Two ushers raced to reach Ana first as she made her entrance into the Hurlingham Club’s Palm Court. “Bride or groom?” asked the winner.
Light filtered down through the glass dome, illuminating the sea of colorful hats below. The buzz of conversation floated up to meet it.
“Bride, I suppose,” said Ana.
She spotted Harry next to Charles in the front row and took an aisle seat two rows behind. She waited for them to turn around and notice her. In her red leather Chanel, she was difficult to miss. Ana had spotted the suit during Paris Fashion Week and had immediately known it would be perfect for Megan and Charles’s autumn wedding.
Charles laughed heartily at something Harry said. She smiled. Charles didn’t look at all nervous, which was par for the course. Neither of those boys was short on self-confidence.
If they hadn’t yet noticed her, others had. Glances were coming at her sideways. She could imagine the whispers. Harry’s girlfriend—the one he got rid of Katie for. It was only to be expected. Many of the guests would be Harry’s relatives who would have attended his wedding to Katie. And of course, everyone had loved dear Katie.
When Ana had seen the red Chanel, she thought she might as well go the whole scarlet woman.
Meanwhile, Charles’s relatives would no doubt be comparing home-wrecker Megan to Cassandra, who according to Harry had been a jolly good sort before she’d gone all New Age.
Ana peered around discreetly from beneath the brim of her hat, looking for faces she recognized. A group of girls tottered in, all blond highlights and high heels. Probably Megan’s workmates. Directly across from Ana were aunt and uncle types. She recognized Harry’s uncle Richard, who was still on Rose Corp.’s board. He saw her and nodded, but there was no smile. His wife noticed, ran her eye over Ana, and whispered something. Richard turned away.
And then she noticed Katie. And . . . Cassandra? Of course. Charles’s and Harry’s daughters were bridesmaids.
If Cassandra hadn’t been sitting with Katie, Ana wouldn’t have recognized her. Her hair had grown long and was loose around her shoulders, and there were flowers in it.
Katie sensed Ana’s scrutiny and turned slightly, meeting her eye. As recognition dawned, she looked quickly away again. She said something to Cassandra, who craned her neck to give Ana the full once-over. Surprisingly, she smiled.
Ana dropped her eyes.
Harry turned around, finally. He was looking dapper in his morning suit, his gold-patterned waistcoat a splash of color against the gray and white. He grinned, before his eyes traveled over the other guests.
There were calls of “shh!” as a string quartet began to play. Everyone turned to see Megan, a vision in white tulle, floating down the aisle, a beatific smile on her face. Behind her came the posse of bridesmaids, including Harry’s daughter, who wore an intense frown as she concentrated on not stepping on Megan’s dress.
As the ceremony began, Ana experienced an upwelling of emotion. She remembered Megan as she’d been in France, flitting from one relationship to the next. Now look at her. She’d been with the same guy, a lifelong friend twelve years her senior, for all this time. And there was Charles, whose roving eye had driven his first wife to drink, now promising fidelity to the girl who’d held a special place in his heart since she was a child.
They were so right together, so content.
Would Ana and Harry ever achieve that? Watching Megan and Charles made her realize what hard work her relationship with Harry had become.
At the office, people were wary of her. In the loos, Ana had overheard Lesley from human resources (best friend of Janette) liken Ana to Camilla Parker Bowles, the saintly Katie being “just like Diana, really.” And Harry was still fobbing her off every time she raised the subject of a more managerial role.
They were out several nights a week, at mostly work-related functions, and Harry was always too busy networking to pay her much attention. On the remaining nights he preferred to stay home and relax, watching TV or reading a book.
Sex was now a bedroom-only affair, after their initial can’t-wait-that-long rampages. And, often as not, it was initiated by her. The only thing that guaranteed his attention was another guy showing too much interest.
It was time to move things on.
As Charles kissed his bride and the guests burst into applause, she wondered whether to speak to Katie, to see if she could get her to budge on the wait for a divorce.
At the reception, Ana was seated with Megan’s work friends. After her initial annoyance at being some distance from the top table, she accepted that—technically speaking—she came under the heading “friends.”
The girl on Ana’s right was gushing over Ana’s suit. “It’s absolutely spectacular. Where did you get it from? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’s Chanel.”
“Oh wow, Chanel! And how do you know Megan?”
“We used to share a flat, and—”
“That must’ve been fun. I work with her, we have such a laugh. I’m so happy for her. Charles is a lovely bloke. It’s sad her parents aren’t here, though, being dead, I mean. But at least her older brother is. The very rich and not exactly ugly Harry Rose. Isn’t he a dreamboat? Shame he’s married. Megan said he’s separated from his wife, though. So maybe there’s hope. I—”
“I’m Ana, Harry’s girlfriend. Once the divorce comes through, we’re getting married.”
That shut her up.
Then: “Oh, of course. Penny dropping here! The one Megan organized the wedding for, then it got called off because . . . right. Sorry.”
The girl picked up her glass of wine and took a prolonged sip, staring straight ahead.
“I work for Hooray!,” said Ana. “Of course we’ve got exclusivity on today’s photos.”
“Jake! The photographer. I’ve met him a few times at events I’ve done. I remember him mentioning you now . . .” She stopped abruptly. “He’s cool.”
What had Jake said about her? She tried not to care.
Ana turned to the girl on her other side. “Hi, I’m Ana. How do you know Megan?”
A while later, as the waiters poured champagne for the toast, Harry stood up and tapped his glass with a spoon. The room went quiet.
“Back in the nineteen seventies,” he began, “my sweet little seven-year-old sister proposed to my nineteen-year-old best friend.”
There were “aaahs” and chuckles.
“Charles’s response was, ‘Ask me again in a few years.’ Some twenty years later, she did. And here we are . . .”
Harry’s speech was funny and full of affection, and as he finished, he wiped a tear from his eye, as did most in the room. Harry had charmed everyone, as per. He hadn’t mentioned Ana at all, hadn’t looked her way. She tried not to care about that either.
The dancing began, and Megan and Charles swayed together to “Love Is All Around.” Harry led his daughter onto the dance floor, and people smiled as he made a big show of twirling her around.
Ana turned her back and made her way to the restrooms. She walked slowly, looking out the windows to the tennis courts, remembering the time she’d played doubles here. It had been the big Charles and Megan reunion, when it all kicked off. And Harry hadn’t taken his eyes off Ana all evening. She tried not to compare then with now.
In the restrooms she took her time touching up her makeup, tucking stray hairs into her chignon. Two aunt types briskly came and went, giving her tight little smiles.
The door opened again, and Katie came in with Maria.
“Oh,” Katie said, hesitating.
“Look, Mummy,” said Maria. “It’s like a bathroom in a palace!”
“Yes, isn’t it lovely,” said Katie.
Maria disappeared into a cubicle.
“Be careful with your dress!”
Katie sat down in an armchair. “Hello,” she said. “We’ve never properly met, have we?” Her voice was calm; there was no undercurrent.
“No. How’s life in Wales?”
“Good. It’s beautiful where we are, really peaceful. I expect that sounds awfully boring to you, but we get a lot of people staying who need time out from their stressful lives, and it’s great to be able to help them.”
“You’re a counselor?”
“Yes. And you? You’re living with Harry, I hear.”
“Yes.” She decided to bite the bullet. “We want to get married, of course, but . . . Katie, I understand you’re reluctant to divorce Harry. Would you consider . . . ?”
“I know it must be hard, Ana. I’m sorry, but I can’t go against my faith. In God’s eyes, we’re still married. The law says Harry can divorce me and there’s nothing I can do about that, but I’m not going to agree to it. Like I said, I’m sorry, truly.”
“Look, Katie. Why make our lives difficult, when it’s going to happen anyway? If it’s because you think I stole—”
“No, this isn’t about revenge or bad feeling. It’s about my beliefs. And anyway, you didn’t steal Harry. I had depression, and his way of dealing with that was to look elsewhere for . . . love. At the time, I blamed myself. But being away from him has made me realize, Harry was the one at fault. He could have helped me through it, but he didn’t. He buried himself in his work and found women who were easier to be with—you know about Bennie? And your sister, obviously.”
Ana nodded.
“The place Cassandra and I run, it’s for women who need time out from modern life.”
It looked like she was about to launch into “New Age bollocks,” as Harry called it.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned through working there, it’s that women blame themselves. I did. We’ve got to stop doing that. Look at the people here today. So many—especially the women, actually—have been offering sympathy for my marriage breakdown, and guess who they’ve been blaming?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Apparently you’re a husband stealer.”
“Well, they would blame me, wouldn’t they? But I don’t care.”
“They’re wrong. You’re not a husband stealer. Harry betrayed me. Twice that I know of, maybe more. But is anyone saying how badly he behaved? No. Harry can do no wrong—everyone loves Harry. So, Ana, I’m not blaming you. I know how hard it is to resist Harry when he turns on the charm. No doubt he told you his marriage was over, and you weren’t going to turn Harry down out of loyalty to a woman you didn’t know, were you?”
Ana didn’t know what to say. Katie—fragile, boring, mouse-wife Katie—was in fact strong, self-assured Katie. And somehow, she was on Ana’s side.
Katie smiled at Ana’s confusion. “Does he still eat toast loudly in front of the late-night news?”
Ana laughed and nodded. For the first time that day, she felt herself relax.
There was the sound of flushing, and Maria reappeared.
“Maria, come and meet Ana. Wash your hands first, though.”
The little girl looked up at her.
“You look so pretty,” said Ana. “Did you like being a bridesmaid?”
“No,” said Maria. “And this dress is silly.”
The door opened and Cassandra came in. “Oh, hello, you two.” She raised her eyebrows at Katie.
“Cassandra, you remember Ana?”
“Of course. How’re you coping with Harry? God, I was always a bit jealous of Katie, Harry was so bloody gorgeous. Shame the rotten cad couldn’t keep it in his pants, though.”
“Cass!” said Katie. “Maria, why don’t you go and find Arabella and Milly.”
“Sorry,” said Cassandra. “I’ve had a drink and I’m not used to it! No, Ana, don’t worry. I can have the odd one now without getting blotto. It was the toxic marriage that was doing me in, not the booze. Gosh, that suit’s magnificent. Not much call for Chanel in Wales, though. So anyway, you and Harry—how’s that going?”
As Ana looked at the two women, she felt something shift inside. She wasn’t wary of them anymore, and felt a sudden compulsion to blurt out all her problems and frustrations, the way she used to with Merry, or Megan, before her relationship with Harry had made those heart-to-hearts a thing of the past.
“You two . . . I can understand why you went off to Wales. You’re lucky to have each other.”
“You want to visit? Better than spending time worrying what Harry’s up to!”
“Calm down, Cassandra,” said Katie. “Ana’s being very patient, waiting for Harry. I’m sure it’s difficult enough for her already, without you making insinuations.”
“Leopards and spots, Katie.”
“But what about Charles?” said Ana. “He’s changed his spots, hasn’t he? If you don’t mind me saying that?”
“We’ll see,” said Cassandra.
Ana thought about the two friends as she made her way back to the reception room. They’d built their lives around men who’d let them down. Now they’d moved on and were making new lives on their own terms.
Ana should be stronger, more like them. She needed to take charge. She’d waited around long enough.