Kate's Wedding (16 page)

‘But they’re not
your
mum,’ said Matt. ‘You don’t have to care as much about them as you do about Elaine. You’re not being dramatic at all. You’re being every bit as concerned as a daughter should be.’

‘Really? Only, when this all started, I felt as though I was interfering when I wanted to ask questions. The registrar told me I shouldn’t believe everything I read on the Internet. That made me feel like a real fool.’

Matt snorted his amusement. ‘You know how arrogant doctors can be,’ he said.

‘Ugh. Well, this is all very gloomy,’ said Kate. ‘Shall we move on?’ She raised her glass. ‘Happy Christmas.’

‘Happy Christmas,’ said Matt.

‘Are you doing anything nice for Christmas this year?’

‘I thought we were moving off gloomy subjects. Don’t ask about Christmas, for God’s sake.’

They talked a bit about Matt’s life in Southampton. Matt explained that he would be spending his Christmas alone. He’d have spent the day working if he could. His soon-to-be ex-wife was taking their children skiing with her new man. It was to be the first time he had not been with his children on Christmas Day.

‘The worst of it is, I don’t think they care half as much as I do. Not now Richard is taking them to
Verbier
.’

‘And he’s a dentist?’

‘Yes. I should have guessed when my beloved wife came home with a mouthful of veneers.’

‘You must be gutted.’

‘I was. I thought Rosie was the love of my life. When I married her, I was convinced that I would never look at another woman. I certainly didn’t think she would ever look at another man. Marriage is hard bloody work. I can understand why you haven’t bothered until now. What’s he like, anyway, your fiancé?’

‘Oh, you know.’

‘I don’t know. Is he good enough for you?’ Matt frowned like a concerned father.

‘He’s great. He’s an accountant, but he’s not boring.’

Matt laughed. ‘So he’s nice and steady. That’s good. How did you meet him?’

‘In a bar,’ Kate lied about it for the first time.

‘Good old Katie,’ said Matt. ‘Keeping the British brewing industry going.’

‘I really don’t drink as much as I used to,’ Kate reminded him.

‘I believe you, though I’m sad you won’t end the evening by dancing on the table. But tell me about your man. What’s he passionate about? Apart from you, of course.’

‘West Ham,’ Kate deadpanned.

‘Can you believe my eight-year-old son supports Chelsea?’ Matt rolled his eyes. Matt was a die-hard Celtic fan.

‘It’s only a game,’ said Kate.

‘Never say that . . . Tell me more about your man. What else do you like about him?’ asked Matt. ‘What do you guys do together at the weekends?’

‘Why all the forensics? Tell me about you and Rosie. After all, she pinched my boyfriend.’

Matt shook his head. ‘You don’t want to hear that.’

Kate smiled to let him know that he really could tell her. Thirteen years earlier, she had wanted to know because she wanted to work out whether she had any chance of stealing Matt back. Now she was just curious. It no longer made any difference to her, did it? She was getting married.

‘What can I say? I felt like I didn’t have a choice. Rosie walked into my life and everything seemed to fall into place around her. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with you any more; it’s just that the pull of attraction from Rosie was so strong that I decided it must be because she was the One. My destiny.’

‘I didn’t think you were superstitious.’

‘I’m not, but you know what it’s like when you meet someone and in the first second they smile at you, you feel like you’ve come home. You feel like you’ve known them your whole life and everything feels right. You must have had that with Ian.’

Kate was distracted by a group of teenagers who had just tumbled through the door of the pub. They must have been celebrating the end of the school term. They were drunk and arguing about who was sober enough to convince the barman to serve them. Their high-pitched disagreement made it all but obvious that they were underage.

‘Do you know what I mean?’ Matt asked her again. ‘About just knowing? I bet Ian felt exactly that when he asked you to marry him. I bet meeting you made everything suddenly make sense.’

Kate came back to the conversation. ‘What? Well, I suppose so. He’s not the kind for big, sweeping statements like that.’

‘I didn’t think I wanted to get married until I met Rosie. With her I had no problem committing to anything. I couldn’t wait for the rest of my life to begin. It happens when it happens. You can’t fake it.’

‘I’d nearly given up waiting.’

‘I really don’t know how you got away with staying single for so long.’

‘I think I do,’ said Kate, remembering all the guys who had followed Matt through her heart. The one-night stands. The weirdoes. The ever-noncommittal Dan. Since meeting Ian, it had crossed Kate’s mind that perhaps she had subconsciously chosen men who wouldn’t commit to her because she didn’t want to commit to anyone either. ‘Perhaps I just wasn’t ready,’ she concluded.

‘And now you are,’ said Matt.

‘I hope so.’

Matt clinked his glass against hers.

‘So here we are again. You know it’s been twenty years since we first met.’

‘It can’t be.’

‘It is. September 1990. Freshers’ Week. You had that terrible accent.’

‘Hang on . . .’ Kate protested.

‘You did. You sounded like a farmer. You soon got rid of that burr.’

‘If only you’d got rid of those mustard-coloured jeans you used to wear as quickly.’

‘I’ve still got them. I’m saving them for Tom.’

‘They must be able to walk on their own by now.’

‘They’ll come back into fashion. Like that jumper you’re wearing. Didn’t you have something exactly like that at Cambridge?’

‘This
is
the Cambridge jumper,’ Kate admitted. ‘Mum and Dad had it at their house. It was the only thing I could find to put on. I hadn’t expected it to be so cold down here.’

‘When are you going back to London?’ Matt asked.

‘I’m not sure. Maybe tomorrow if I think that Mum and Dad will be able to get by without me. You know, it’s really shaken me, this whole thing. It’s like I didn’t believe my parents were mortal until now. And this is just the first hint of the frailty to come. It’s bloody frightening.’

‘It happens to us all at some point.’

‘I know you’re right. I guess I’ve been lucky so far.’ Kate struggled to keep a lump from her throat.

‘It’s great that you’ve got Ian by your side to help you through it.’

Kate made a little noise of agreement. There was no point telling Matt that Ian would rather be at the football than lend her his support that weekend.

‘You know you can call me anytime you like to ask questions about the things Mr Calil has said. If you want, next time your parents are in the hospital, I could even go along to an appointment with them if you give me some notice.’

‘Would your colleagues like that? I mean, wouldn’t it look as though you were interfering?’

‘Possibly, yes, but it’s you and your parents I care about. If it would make you feel more comfortable to have my “expert” opinion, I’m there.’ He put a heavy jokey emphasis on ‘expert’ that made Kate remember how much she had liked his self-deprecating humour when they first met, twenty years before.

‘That’s kind of you. Really, it’s made a difference to be able to talk to you about it.’

Matt took her hand across the table. He squeezed her fingers.

‘I am so glad you came here tonight. All the time that’s passed. You’re getting married. I’m getting divorced. But I feel as though underneath we’re still the same people, don’t you? I’ve missed you over the years, you know.’

Kate nodded.

‘But now we’ve found each other again. Promise you’ll keep me up to speed with your mum’s progress, and promise you’ll call me next time you’re in town.’

‘I promise,’ said Kate.

What did you do tonight? Ian texted just as she was going to bed.

Stayed in and watched TV with Dad,
Kate lied.

I miss you,
Ian told her.

I miss you too,
texted Kate.

But did she? Back in her parents’ spare bedroom right then, it was hard to imagine that Ian even existed in her life. Perhaps it was the nostalgia kick. Her brain was confused by going back over old times with Matt. So much so that when Kate woke up the following morning, she had the distinct impression that she was back in her old room in college and at any moment Matt would be hammering on the door, asking if she was ready to go down for breakfast.

That intense moment of recollection was followed by a rush of guilt when she discovered that another text from Matt was waiting on her phone alongside Ian’s habitual ‘Good morning.’

Would be really nice to see you again,
Matt had written.

Yes,
Kate replied.
Hope to introduce you to Ian soon.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elaine was allowed home a few days later. Kate had the distinct impression that the hospital staff tried to get rid of as many patients as they could before Christmas to help them arrange holiday leave. She wasn’t convinced that her mother was ready to leave the ward, but Elaine said she couldn’t wait to get home. Her recovery would be much faster, she was sure, if she could do it in her own front room. She had to get strong again ahead of the radiotherapy she would have in the new year.

When she saw how much happier her mother seemed to be back in her own bed, Kate felt guilty for having tried to persuade her to stay at the hospital. Kate was aware it might have been more to do with her fear that John would not be able to cope with her care than that Elaine wasn’t well enough to be moved. Both John and Elaine insisted that it was time for Kate to return to London, to work and her fiancé.

Back in London, Kate was faced with the usual round of last-minute Christmas chores and social obligations. She attended Ian’s company party. He accompanied her to a dinner at the firm she would be joining the following February. Neither evening was a glittering success, with the party catering reflecting the strict austerity budgets that both companies had adopted. Plus, Kate felt a lingering resentment towards Ian for having avoided the whole business of the hospital. She didn’t say anything, but she had to bite her tongue when, while making small talk at his office party, he inadvertently let slip, in front of Kate, that he had been at the West Ham home game that Saturday. Just as she suspected. Kate smiled at the revelation. At least it made her feel a little less guilty for not having mentioned seeing Matt. She hadn’t even told Helen about their catch-up drink.

But there were more frustrations. In Kate’s absence, Ian had run down the supplies in the flat. Not only was there just half a loo roll left, Ian had started on the food that Kate had stashed in the freezer for Christmas and – this was the real kicker – he had cancelled the Ocado order in Kate’s absence because he ‘didn’t know what to do when the van arrived’.

Meanwhile, the bad weather meant that the supermarkets had been hit by panic-buying. There was a real danger that they would have nothing festive to eat come Christmas Day. Kate’s resentment went up another notch as she pushed a trolley around Waitrose. Why was Ian so clueless when it came to running a home? How had he survived before he met her? Kate fumed as she restocked the freezer when she could have been doing 101 more useful things. Why was filling the freezer her job, anyway? She hoped it was just because she was on gardening leave that Ian seemed to assume she would play housewife. He definitely shouldn’t get used to it.

Kate ranted to Helen via text. Welcome to my world, was Helen’s deadpan response.

While Kate had been in Washam, Trudy, the photographer, had sent Kate and Ian a link to the private members’ area of her website, so that they could see the results of the engagement shoot. When she finally found a moment, Kate clicked through and tapped in their password, which was ‘Eiffel’, their password for all things wedding-related.

Trudy had suggested that Kate and Ian might like to use one of the photos from the engagement shoot on their wedding stationery. Her site provided a link to a website where they could turn the photos into calling cards. Kate wasn’t sure that was her sort of thing, but in the event, there wasn’t a single picture from that engagement shoot she would have wanted to send out in any case.

Kate grimaced at the first three shots, taken sitting on that rickety log. She and Ian looked like strangers who had just been dragged out from a supermarket and told to pose together. Ian had his eyes shut in one of them. The ‘walking along the beach’ shots were not much better. Kate and Ian were holding hands, but their bodies were miles apart. They looked as though they would have preferred to be holding on to two ends of rope for a little extra distance.

The
Titanic
shots were the worst of all. Kate remembered how physically uncomfortable that pose had been, with the railings digging into her belly, but she was surprised to see how anxious both she and Ian looked. Was it just the thought of the drop behind them? Despite his brag that he had landed like a cat, Ian had had to hold off on his habitual Sunday run because his ankle hurt too much.

We don’t look right together. Kate was shocked by the thought that popped into her head. Once she had acknowledged it, she couldn’t help comparing in her mind these pictures with the photographs she had taken over her time with Dan, for example. She and Dan had looked right with each other. In fact, when they were breaking up for the last time, Kate had shown some of those photographs to Tess for confirmation that two people who looked so good together couldn’t possibly be splitting up for real.

Kate knew that Ian was a very different man to Dan. He was by no means as vain. Ian had lived for years without even having a mirror in his bathroom. If Kate hadn’t insisted he bought one so that she had something to look into while doing her make-up whenever she stayed over, she suspected that Ian might never have got around to buying one. Likewise, when he was shopping for clothes, Ian had two criteria: does it fit, and is it comfortable? Kate had often told him that it was a good job he came to their first date straight from work. If she’d seen him in his weekend clothes before she got to know him, they wouldn’t have got past date one.