I can see Elinor’s face twitching again, and to my extreme astonishment, I feel a bit sorry for her. But then, as we turn and stride together out of the apartment, I squash it. Elinor’s been mean enough to me and my parents. She deserves all she gets.
We walk downstairs in silence. I think we’re both completely shell-shocked. Luke lifts his hand for a cab, gives our address to the driver, and we both get in.
After about three blocks we look at each other. Luke is pale and shaking slightly.
“I don’t know what to say,” he says. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“You were brilliant,” I say firmly. “She had it coming.”
He swivels in his seat and looks at me earnestly. “Becky, I’m so sorry about the wedding. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just tell me how.”
I stare at him, my mind working fast. OK. I have to play this one very carefully. If I make the wrong move, everything could still fall about my ears.
“So… you do still want to get married? You know, in principle.”
“Of course I do!” Luke looks shocked. “Becky, I love you. Even more than I did before. In fact, I’ve never loved you as much as I did in that room. When you made that incredible sacrifice for me, without even a moment’s hesitation.”
“What? Oh, the wedding! Yes.” I compose my features hastily. “Yes, well. It was quite a lot to ask of me. And um… speaking of… weddings…”
I almost can’t bring myself to say it. I feel as though I’m trying to balance the last card on top of the pyramid. I have to get it exactly right.
“How would you feel about getting married in… Oxshott?”
“Oxshott. Perfect.” Luke closes his eyes and leans back on his seat, looking exhausted.
I’m numb with disbelief. It’s all fallen into place. The miracle is complete.
As we drive down Fifth Avenue I look out of the window of the cab, suddenly taking in the world outside. Noticing for the first time that it’s summer. That it’s a beautiful sunshiny day. That Saks has a new window display of swimwear. Little things I haven’t been able to see, let alone appreciate, because I’ve been so preoccupied, so stressed.
I feel as though I’ve been walking around with a heavy weight on my back for such a long time, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to walk upright. But at last the burden is lifted, and I can cautiously stand up and stretch, and start to enjoy myself. The months of nightmaresville are over. Finally, I can sleep easy.
Nineteen
EXCEPT I DON’T.
In fact, I don’t sleep at all.
Long after Luke’s crashed out, I’m staring at the ceiling, feeling uncomfortable. There’s something wrong here. I’m just not quite sure what.
On the surface, everything’s perfect. Elinor is out of Luke’s life for good. We can get married at home. I don’t have to worry about Robyn. I don’t have to worry about anything. It’s like a great big bowling ball has arrived in my life and knocked down all the bad ninepins in one fell swoop, leaving only good ones behind.
We had a lovely celebration supper, and cracked open a bottle of champagne, and toasted the rest of Luke’s life, and the wedding, and each other. Then we started talking about where we should go on our honeymoon, and I made a strong case for Bali and Luke said Moscow and we had one of those laughing, almost hysterical arguments you have when you’re high on exhilaration and relief. It was a wonderful, happy evening. I should be completely content.
But now that I’m in bed and my mind’s settled down, things keep niggling at me. The way Luke looked tonight. Almost too exhilarated. Too bright-eyed. The way we both kept laughing, as though we didn’t dare stop.
And other things. The way Elinor looked when we left. The conversation I had with Annabel, all those months ago.
I should feel triumphant. I should feel vindicated. But… somehow this doesn’t feel right.
At last, at about three in the morning, I slide out of bed, go into the living room, and dial Suze’s number.
“Hi, Bex!” she says in surprise. “What time is it there?” I can hear the tinny sound of British breakfast television on in the background, and little gurgles from Ernie. “God, I’m sorry I gave you a hard time yesterday. I’ve been feeling really bad ever since—”
“It’s OK. Honestly, I’ve forgotten all about it.” I huddle on the floorboards, pulling my dressing gown tightly around me. “Listen, Suze. Luke had a huge bust-up with his mum today. He’s pulled out of the Plaza wedding. We can get married in Oxshott after all.”
“What?” Suze’s voice explodes down the line. “That’s incredible! That’s fantastic! Bex, I’ve been so worried! I honestly didn’t know what you were going to do. You must be dancing on the ceiling! You must be—”
“I am. Kind of.”
Suze comes to a breathless halt. “What do you mean, kind of?”
“I know everything’s worked out. I know it’s all fantastic.” I wind my dressing gown cord tightly round my finger. “But somehow… it doesn’t feel fantastic.”
“What do you mean?” I can hear Suze turning the volume down. “Bex, what’s wrong?”
“I feel bad,” I say in a rush. “I feel like… I’ve won but I don’t want to have won. I mean, OK, I’ve got everything I wanted. Luke’s had it out with Elinor, he’s going to pay off the wedding planner, we can have the wedding at home… On the one hand it’s great. But on the other hand—”