I stare at him wordlessly. Are you leaving me for Venetia? Is our whole marriage a sham?
“Hi, darling.” He takes a sip of wine.
I feel like I’m standing on a cliff edge. The moment I speak, it will all be over.
“Becky? Sweetheart?” Luke takes a few steps toward me, looking puzzled. “Are you OK?” He peers curiously at the feathers.
I can’t do it. I can’t ask him. I’m too frightened of what I’ll hear.
“I’ll go and get ready,” I whisper, unable to meet his eye. “We need to leave soon.”
I head to the bedroom and strip off, bundling Danny’s T-shirt into the bottom of the wardrobe where Luke will never look. Then I take a quick shower, hoping it’ll make me feel better. But it doesn’t. As I catch sight of myself in the mirror, wrapped in a towel, I look scared and pale.
Come on, Becky. Chin up. Think glam. Think Catherine Zeta-Jones. I get out my slinky new midnight-blue dress and slip it on, thinking this at least will cheer me up. But somehow the dress doesn’t look as good as it did before. It’s not clingy, it’s puckering. I haul at the zipper but it won’t go up.
It’s too small.
My perfect dress is too small. I must have grown some more. My bump, or my thighs, or somewhere. My whole body’s suddenly got huge.
I can feel my chin wobbling, but desperately clamp my lips shut. I am not going to cry. I wrench off the dress as best I can and head to the wardrobe to find something else. And then I glimpse myself in the mirror, and freeze. I’m waddling.
I’m a white, fat, waddling…monstrosity.
I sit down on the bed, feeling dizzy. My head is pounding and there are spots before my eyes. No wonder he chose Venetia.
“Becky, are you OK?” Luke is at the door, surveying me in alarm. I hadn’t even noticed him.
“I…” Tears are blocking my throat. “I’m…”
“You don’t look well. Why don’t you lie down? I’ll bring you some water.”
As I watch him go, Venetia’s voice is in my head like a coiled snake. He’s playing along to keep you happy.
“Here we are.” Luke’s voice makes me jump. He hands me a glass of water and two chocolate biscuits. “I think you should rest for a while.”
I take the glass without drinking. Suddenly everything feels like acting. He’s acting. I’m acting.
“What about the reunion?” I say at last. “We need to go soon.”
“We can be late. Or we can miss it. Darling, have some water, lie down….”
Reluctantly I take a sip of water, then put my head on the pillow. Luke tucks the duvet over me and quietly leaves the room.
I don’t know how long I lie there for. It feels like about thirty seconds. Or six hours. Afterward I work out it was about twenty minutes.
And then I hear the voices. His voice. And her voice. Approaching down the corridor.
“…hope you don’t mind…”
“No, absolutely. Luke, you did the right thing to call. So, how’s the patient?”
I open my eyes, and it’s a nightmare come true. There, looming in front of me, is Venetia.
She’s changed into a full-length strapless black taffeta ball gown with a swirly skirt. Her hair is pinned up in a chignon, and diamonds are flashing at her ears. She looks like a princess.
“Luke says you’re not feeling well, Becky?” Her smile is syrupy sweet. “Let’s have a look.”
“What are you doing here?” I spit out.
“Luke called me. He was worried!” Venetia puts a hand on my head and I flinch. “Let me see if you’ve got a temperature.” She sits on the bed with a rustle of taffeta and opens a little medical case.
“Luke, I don’t want her here!” With no warning, tears are spilling from my eyes. “I’m not ill!”
“Open.” Venetia is advancing a thermometer toward my mouth.
“No!” I turn my head away like a baby refusing its porridge.
“Come on, Becky,” Venetia says in cajoling tones. “I just want to take your temperature….”
“Becky.” Luke takes my hand. “Come on. We can’t take any risks.”
“I’m not ill—” My words are stifled as Venetia jams the thermometer in my mouth and stands up.
“I really don’t think she should come tonight,” she says in a low voice, drawing Luke aside. “Can you persuade her to stay here and rest?”
“Of course.” Luke nods. “Please send our apologies.”
“You’re staying behind too?” Venetia frowns. “Luke, I really think…” She beckons Luke out of the room and I can hear low murmurings coming from the corridor. A few moments later Luke appears around the door again, holding a jug of water.
Someone’s tied his bow tie up, I suddenly notice. I want to burst into tears.
“Becky. Sweetheart, Venetia thinks you should take it easy.”
I stare at him silently, the thermometer still in my mouth.
“I’ll stay with you, of course. If you want me to.” He hesitates awkwardly. “But…if you didn’t mind me popping out just for half an hour, there are a lot of people coming to this reunion I’d like to see.”
My throat is thickening. Fresh tears are springing to my eyes. I can see it all plainly now. He wants to go to the party with Venetia. They’ve probably engineered this whole thing.
What am I going to do, beg him not to? I’ve got more pride than that.
“Fine,” I mumble, turning my head away so he can’t see my tears. “Go.”