The Marrying Game (63 page)

‘Hark, the herald angels sing, pom-pom, pom-pom, newborn king!’ sang Berry. Nancy lay lushly asleep in the passenger seat, filling the car with her perfume. Berry ordered himself not to get an erection while driving. Back in the plump, cushioned life with Polly, he had sometimes fantasized about having a single night with Nancy. He now knew there was no such thing as enough, where Nancy was concerned. They had been making love every four hours for the past two days, in every conceivable position. Berry had never been so ridiculously, doltishly, beamingly happy in his entire life. When he made love to Nancy, he became a sexual swordsman, a Casanova, a king. She loved him, and life looked piercingly beautiful from the inside of her warm heart.

He smiled to himself, remembering how they had shamelessly snogged in the taxi on the way to Wendy’s, that first night – he had given the driver an enormous tip. Then he had been inside her, with his lips and tongue around one pale pink nipple, coming and coming, pouring himself into her. He had proposed to her immediately afterwards, and Nancy had said, ‘Don’t worry, darling – it’s on the house.’

But he had not allowed her to joke about it. He had
made
her admit how much she loved him, without trying to laugh it off. She had not been able to hide it underneath her usual, public manner. And as soon as he knew, for certain, that he held the true, essential Nancy, he was surer than ever that he had to marry her. He had declared that he would buy her a diamond as big as the Ritz, and tell the whole world, before she could change her mind.

Nancy had said, ‘As if I’d change my mind, when at last I’ve found the world’s most perfect man – a model of chivalry who can also make me come like the Flying Scotsman.’ They had ended up making love again after that.

The following day, oblivious to the jostling Christmas crowds, Berry had taken Nancy to Boodle and Dunthorne, in Sloane Street, and chosen her a beautiful, vastly expensive diamond ring.

‘Darling, have you lost your senses?’ Nancy had demanded. ‘What’s wrong with Ratner’s?’

‘Please, Nancy. It’s a personal thing. This ring is almost exactly twice the price of the one I bought Polly. I know it’s rather mean-spirited of me – but I couldn’t have been comfortable if my wife’s ring had been cheaper. And anyway, she’s never sent it back.’

‘Oh well, in that case,’ Nancy had said, holding out her left hand to be measured.

She had worn the ring that evening, when he had taken her round to his sister’s flat in Clapham. His parents had been staying there, and he was impatient to introduce them to the future mother of his children (Berry had already decided four would be nice). Nancy had looked gloriously beautiful in the taupe jacket from the campaigning wardrobe. Annabel had muttered,
‘God
almighty, she’s sensational – what on earth does she see in you?’ And his father had drawled, ‘I
say
,’ in his Terry-Thomas voice. They had loved her.

Berry turned his BMW down the lane that led to the gate of Melismate. ‘We’re here.’

Nancy stretched luxuriously. ‘Mmmm. I was having such a rude dream about you.’

‘What was I doing?’

‘I’ll show you later.’

‘Go on, give me a clue – which parts did it involve?’

Nancy was shaking with laughter. ‘Wait and see.’

He stopped the car in the drive, and leaned over to kiss her. ‘That’s going to be difficult, when you’re so stunning. Are you as happy as I am?’

‘Absolutely delirious. I can’t wait to tell Rufa.’ She opened her door. ‘Isn’t it ironic? We were both ready to renounce everything for love, and we couldn’t have married better if you’d paid us.’

The future Lady Bridgmore had a diamond ring. Better than that, Rose thought, she was very obviously madly in love. She was electric with it; more herself than she had been since the Man’s death. For the first time in her career, Nancy had fallen for a man without first leaping into his bed. Berry, who had spent the previous Christmas Eve with his eyes pinned hopelessly to her curves, now had difficulty keeping his hands off them.

Ah, that blissful first stage, Rose thought nostalgically; the grappling and sobbing, the moonstruck passion. She had not left the house for nearly three weeks when the Man first brought her home to Melismate. Love like that never died – it only went
underground
, to be endlessly recreated in the faces of the next generation.

All talking, laughing and shouting at once, they ate toad-in-the-hole and drank red wine. Selena showed off to Rufa, producing a queen of puddings, scientifically browned and perfect in every detail.

‘I’ve been reading Sir Kenelm Digby,’ she said coolly. ‘He made me want to experiment with traditional English cooking.’

‘She thinks her sisters are total fools,’ Nancy said. ‘Well, she’s right. What a good thing we’ve all bagged husbands.’

Rose said, ‘That cranking sound is Mrs Pankhurst turning in her grave. Did feminism pass you by completely?’

‘It didn’t pass Liddy by,’ Ran said, his great eyes mournful. ‘Independence. Having her own social life. Singing in that bloody choir. Going to bloody church. Since she came back, she treats me like an inferior being.’

‘I like church,’ Linnet said. ‘Nancy, guess what, I’m the innkeeper’s wife in the nativity play. I have to say: “Husband, what about the stable?” Mummy sewed me a costume made of tea-towels.’

‘Hmm,’ Nancy said, lazily feeling Berry’s leg under the table. ‘I bet you’re tremendous.’ In a deep, Ressany voice, she added, ‘Yes, she is, but she doesn’t do a dance or show her bum.’

Linnet, whose eyelids had begun to droop, giggled and snapped back into wakefulness. A Stilton was produced, smelling out the room like the essence of a thousand old socks. Roger made ten large mugs of strong tea, and a cup of juice for Linnet.

‘Look,’ Edward said, nodding towards the clock above the range. ‘It’s been Christmas Day for twenty minutes. Merry Christmas, everyone.’

There was more kissing, more filling of glasses.

‘I’m so happy I need to dance,’ Nancy declared. ‘I wish we had the Man’s party tape – he made a tape of all our favourite songs,’ she explained to Berry. ‘He used to bring it out at the drop of a hat. He’d certainly have played it now, wouldn’t he, Mum?’

‘God, yes,’ Rose sighed. ‘All this fabulous news would have merited “Cum on Feel the Noyz” at the very least.’

‘Or even the Funky Chicken,’ Rufa said.

Selena stood up. ‘I might know where it is. All the stuff from his desk went into a box under the stairs, and I’m sure I saw it when I got out the Christmas lights.’

Lydia, tipsy and giggling, went with her to search for it, in the dusty glory-hole under the main staircase.

‘Anything we can dance to,’ Rose called after them. She got stiffly out of her chair. ‘
The Best of Abba
will do.’

Roger bowed and kissed Rose’s sooty hand. ‘May I have the pleasure?’

‘Darling, of course – and I insist on cutting a rug with each of my sons-in-law.’

‘Got it.’ Selena and Lydia entered in triumph. Selena was rubbing a cobwebby cassette against her jersey. ‘The famous party tape.’ She slotted it into the ghetto blaster on the counter, turning up the sound. As the Man had done, she announced, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please take your places for “Hi-ho Silver Lining”.’ She pressed the Play button.

There was a hissing sound, then a loud chord – then the music suddenly stopped.

The voice of the Man filled the room. ‘Hello, girls. I
hope
you’re playing this because you’re having fun.’

Selena snapped it off, as if stung. They stood in awed silence, staring at each other’s white faces.

Rose whispered, ‘Of course, of course. I should have guessed. I knew there had to be a message.’

Gently pushing Selena aside, she reached out a shaking hand, and wound the tape back to the beginning. Edward put his arm around Rufa’s waist. Lydia sat down, scooping a large-eyed Linnet on to her lap. Deep silence settled around them all, as they prepared themselves to hear the voice from another world.

‘Hello girls. I hope you’re playing this because you’re having fun. I hope it means you’re not too sad. I’m sorry about all this, and I won’t give you the reasons why I have to leave you. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you all. And I’m recording over my tape because this is exactly how I want you to remember me. Only the fun bits, all right? You can completely forget the rest.’ There was a pause, during which they could hear him humming to himself, as he did when thinking deeply. ‘This feels rather like the Oscars,’ the voice went on, eerily close and familiar. ‘Rose, Rufa, Nancy, Liddy, Selena, Linnet – goodbye, my darlings – my silk princesses.’ His voice faltered. He cleared his throat. ‘And I ought to mention Rodge and Edward, because I’m expecting them to take care of you. I think that’s all, and I’d better get going – oh, while I think of it, please don’t play “Seasons in the Sun” at my funeral.’

Another pause. They waited breathlessly, feeling him amongst them.

‘Forgive me, and be as happy as possible. Sorry to record over “Silver Lining”.’ His voice suddenly became brisk and humorous. ‘And sorry to put a crimp
in
whatever party you’re having – I hope it’s a corker. Ladies and gentlemen, please take your places for “Wig Wam Bam”.’

The song began. The Man had made his bow.

Rose switched off the tape. They were all mute, and all in tears. After a long silence, Rose said, ‘Yes, it’s a corker all right.’

These tears did not hurt. There was a great calm in the room.

Nancy lifted her wet face off Berry’s shoulder. ‘Didn’t you hear him? He wanted us to dance – switch it on!’

Suddenly, they were all smiling round at each other, their eyes unfocused, as if they had shared a miraculous vision and it had blessed them like the Spirit of Christmas. Selena switched on the music and grabbed Linnet’s hands. Ran swept Lydia into the middle of the kitchen floor. Berry convulsed Nancy with his well-meaning, uncoordinated attempts at grooving. Rose danced extravagantly, clearing a large space around her. Edward leaned against the table, clasping Rufa protectively in his arms.

‘After he did it, I thought I’d never be happy again,’ Rufa said. ‘But this is the happiest night of my life. I’m not quite sure why everything’s suddenly so wonderful, when nothing much has changed. I feel as if I’d come to the end of a long, long journey – only to find myself back on my own doorstep.’

He kissed the nape of her neck. ‘Welcome home.’

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Reissued by Arrow Books in 2012

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Copyright © Kate Saunders, 2002

Kate Saunders has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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First published in Great Britain in 2002 by Century
First published by Arrow Books in 2002

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