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She let him draw her to her feet. Let him strip away her clothes, the way she’d stripped away her emotional barriers. He just held her in silence for a while, his arms wrapped protectively round her. And when they made love, later that night, Alex was so tender, so cherishing, that just for a while she allowed herself to believe that he felt the same way about her as she was beginning to feel about him. And maybe, just maybe, her dreams were going to come true.
The following morning, Isobel woke to an empty space beside her. Judging by how cold the sheets were, Alex had been gone for a while.
She pulled on a dressing gown and padded into the living room. Alex was curled up on the sofa, working on his laptop and nursing a mug of coffee. He looked up when she walked in and quickly saved whatever file he was working on. ‘Morning, Bel. I was going to wake you in about half an hour.’
‘It’s Saturday. How come you’re up so early?’ Because he’d had time to think about what she’d told him last night, and changed his mind?
‘I’m always awake early.’ He shrugged. ‘And you needed some sleep. I thought I’d work out here so I didn’t disturb you.’ There was a distinct twinkle in his eye. ‘Besides, I can hardly give you a surprise wedding day if you’re able to look over my shoulder and see what I’m doing.’
The knot of tension between her shoulders loosened slightly. ‘What’s to stop me doing that now?’
‘I’ve closed the file. And the whole lot’s password-protected, so it’s pointless you even trying to open it.’
‘I could,’ she said, pursing her lips, ‘hack my way in. I have friends who are good with computers and they’ll tell me how to do it if I ask them nicely.’
He laughed. ‘But you’re not going to, or I’ll tell the mums and they’ll nag you stupid. What time are they getting here?’
‘They’re not. I’m meeting them at the train station.’ She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Oh, help. I didn’t realise it was that late!’ She frowned. ‘But my alarm didn’t go off.’ She hadn’t bothered looking at the clock before she got out of bed, assuming that she’d woken before her alarm went off.
‘I turned it off,’ he admitted, ‘because I thought you could do with some sleep.’
‘I’m going to be late now, and they’ll worry.’
‘They won’t. Go have your shower and I’ll text Mum to let her know.’
‘Alex, she never picks up texts. Better ring her or text Saskia instead,’ Isobel called from the bathroom door.
It was the quickest shower on record and for once she didn’t bother washing her hair. But by the time she was ready, Alex had a cup of coffee waiting for her. ‘I added enough cold water so you can drink it straight down,’ he said. When she’d done so, he handed her an apple and a banana. ‘Breakfast to go.’
‘Is this what you do when you’re on a project?’
He grinned. ‘Hey, it’s healthy. At least I wasn’t suggesting what some of my colleagues used to do—doughnuts and coffee with four sugars. Carb overload.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘See you when you get back. Have a good time.’
‘Thanks, Alex. And, um, about last night …’ She swallowed hard. ‘I wanted to say thank you. For understanding.’
He laid his palm against her cheek. ‘Stop worrying. This is me you’re talking to. There are no pedestals for either of us to fall off. Go and find yourself a nice frock.’ His lips twitched. ‘And a flame-coloured veil.’
Isobel met their mothers and Saskia as planned at the railway station, albeit slightly late. And although she tried to get some information out of them about the wedding, none of them would tell her a single thing about Alex’s plans.
‘He’d have our guts for garters,’ Marcia said. ‘No can do.’
‘But I promise you’ll love it,’ Saskia added.
Anna nodded agreement. ‘And I know now just how much Alex loves you—because he’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it the perfect day.’
He didn’t love her, Isobel thought. Not in the way her mother believed he did. But that was something she didn’t want to explain, so she allowed herself to be distracted by dresses.
‘This,’ Anna said, holding out a cream silk shift dress, ‘is perfect.’ She made Isobel try it on and come and pirouette for the three of them. ‘That’s the one,’ she said.
Meanwhile, Marcia found the perfect pair of high-heeled cream court shoes to go with the dress. And they had them in Isobel’s size.
‘That’s the difficult bit done, then.’ Saskia smiled. ‘And I need a coffee break after all that hard work.’
Next were the dresses for the mums. And after the fourth shop, Isobel rubbed the base of her spine. ‘Time out. We’ve been walking for ages. Coffee.’
Marcia looked at her and then at Saskia. ‘I’ve known you two all your lives—and I know full well you can shop all day without a break. Are you doing this because of me?’
‘Of course not,’ Isobel fibbed, but she couldn’t look Marcia in the eye.
‘You arranged this between you,’ Marcia said suspiciously. ‘Breaks practically on the hour. Look, I’m fine. I’m not ill.’
Isobel exchanged a look with her best friend. ‘OK. I admit it. We’re worried about you, Marcia. You’re not an invalid, but you’ve had a rough time with your health. We don’t want to push you too hard.’
‘You want to stay well for the wedding, don’t you?’ Saskia added.
Marcia scowled. ‘That’s emotional blackmail.’
‘But they’re right,’ Anna cut in gently. ‘They’re worried about you, Marcia.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m ten years older than you, so I vote for a rest, too.’
‘I give in,’ Marcia said ruefully.
‘So are you going to humour Alex about the flame-coloured veil?’ Saskia asked over coffee.
‘So he is planning a Roman wedding,’ Isobel said.
‘No, no, no, no, no!’ Saskia, looking panicky, crossed her hands rapidly in front of her. ‘But he was going on about it last weekend. You could call his bluff and do it.’
‘I’m not sure an orange veil would look right with that dress, love,’ Marcia said.
‘But if it was made of crystal organza and you wore it more like a stole—actually, that would look stunning.’ Anna looked thoughtful. ‘Especially if your hair’s up and you wear finger-less elbow-length gloves and your bouquet’s a simple sheaf of lilies. If you choose the material today, I can hem it for you.’
Isobel spread her hands. ‘Well, as none of you will tell me anything, I’ll just have to let you decide for me.’
Saskia grinned. ‘And don’t you just hate not being in charge?’
Isobel scowled. ‘Alex called me a control freak, too.’
‘You are,’ Saskia said, laughing. ‘You like everything just so.’
‘It’s called doing your research properly.’ Isobel sighed. ‘My colleagues all have invitations to the reception, but he’s sworn them all to secrecy as well. Nobody will even give me a hint. It’s driving me insane.’
‘He’s not going to tell you, so there’s no point in stressing about it,’ Saskia told her.
‘So you’ve got everything now, apart from the gloves and the veil?’ Marcia asked. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue?’
‘I’ve got a new dress,’ Isobel said. ‘So that’s one of them.’
‘And you can borrow my gold bracelet—the one my parents gave me for my twenty-first,’ Anna said. ‘That takes care of old and borrowed. I’ll bring it to you on your wedding morning.’
‘And I’ll deal with the blue,’ Saskia said with a smile. ‘Something tasteful, Bel, I promise.’
‘Thank you. You’ve all gone to a lot of trouble over this.’ There was a huge lump in Isobel’s throat.
‘That’s because we love you,’ Anna said, hugging her daughter. ‘And we all want you to have the happiness you deserve. With Alex.’
Alex.
Her husband-to-be.
Who was equally convinced that everything would work out just fine.
She knew Alex was nothing like Gary. And, as Alex had pointed out, they were going into the marriage with their eyes wide open. Practical. Sensible. So why was the fear—the horrible feeling that everything was going to go pear-shaped—still dragging along behind her like a shadow?
Isobel managed to keep it away for the rest of the afternoon—just—while they went shopping for more shoes and the gloves to match her dress. Their last stop was to choose a length of shimmering flame-coloured crystal organza.
‘Don’t tell Alex about this,’ she said. ‘As he’s keeping me in suspense about everything, I want this to be a surprise.’
‘We won’t let him see the dress, either,’ Marcia promised.
‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll take these,’ Anna said, scooping up the bags containing Isobel’s dress, the shoes and the material for the wrap. ‘I’ll be helping you get ready, so I’ll bring them with me—that way Alex won’t see them before the big day.’
Isobel shivered. ‘Mum, I …’
‘Shh.’ Anna kissed her gently. ‘Of course you’ve got butterflies in your stomach. It’s only natural.’
They weren’t butterflies. They were elephants, doing the cancan.
‘But Alex is the right man for you,’ Anna said softly. ‘You love each other, so everything’s going to be fine.’
Was it?
Isobel wasn’t so sure—because they didn’t love each other. Not in the way their family seemed to think they did.
But she forced herself to smile. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Over the weekend, Isobel found the perfect wedding present for Alex on the internet—a watch made of black ceramic, with no markers on the dial except for a diamond on the twelve. She discovered there was a stockist for the Swiss manufacturer near the museum, so she dropped in on Monday lunchtime to buy it and have it wrapped. Then she transferred it to a plain bag so if Alex did spot it he wouldn’t have a clue what she’d bought.
The next few days went by in a blur. And then it was the day before their wedding: her last day at work for over a week. Isobel ate a sandwich at her desk and used the time to try to get ahead of schedule with her work, but at the end of the day, when she’d planned to slip quietly away, Rita banged a spoon against a bottle of sparkling wine and the whole department focused on Isobel.
‘You haven’t got a wedding list,’ Rita said, ‘so we were flying a bit blind here, but I hope you like it.’ She handed Isobel a beautifully wrapped box. ‘Happy wedding, from all of us.’
Isobel carefully unwrapped it, and stared in delight when she opened the box to discover a fused-glass bowl, shading from light azure through to deep cobalt. ‘It’s gorgeous, Rita. Thank you. Thank you all so much.’
‘Our pleasure,’ Rita said, speaking on behalf of the department. ‘See you tomorrow night.’ She hugged Isobel. ‘You’ve got a good man, there.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And he’ll be so much better for you than He Who Should Not Be Named. You’ll be happy with Alex. It shows in your face when you look at him—and when he looks at you.’
If only you knew, Isobel thought, but she smiled. ‘Thanks, Rita.’
She went back to her flat, carefully protecting her parcel on the tube. Alex was waiting for her and kissed her hello. ‘How was your day?’
‘Lovely. Look what everyone in the department gave us as a wedding present.’
Alex inspected the bowl. ‘That’s gorgeous. I love the colours. And it’ll look great in our new house.’
Isobel frowned. ‘What new house?’
‘The one we’ll be looking at when we get back after the wedding. This flat only has one bedroom,’ he reminded her, ‘and if we’re going to start a family we’re going to need extra space.’
She lifted her chin. ‘What if we can’t have a family, Alex?’
‘We’ll face that if we have to.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘My grandmother used to have a saying: “Never trouble trouble, until trouble troubles you.” But if you want to think of it another way—with two of us, and the fact that I’ve got even more books than you have, we need more office space and more storage space. Which means a bigger place.’
‘You are going to let me have a choice in this, aren’t you? You’re not going to steamroller me, the way you have about the wedding?’
‘I’m not steamrollering you. I’ve been trying to surprise you about the wedding,’ Alex pointed out. ‘I’m giving you a day to remember. Choosing a home’s different—the place has to feel right for both of us, so we need to look at it together.’
‘So you’re telling me I have to put my flat on the market?’
He shook his head. ‘Keep it as an investment. You can rent it out—the rent should cover your mortgage.’
She frowned. ‘But yours is rented out, too. How on earth are we going to afford another flat between us?’
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘my flat isn’t going to be rented out any more. The letting agent rang me the other day and said the tenants wanted to know if I’d consider selling to them. Serendipity,’ he said with a smile. ‘Obviously I wanted to discuss it with you, first, before saying yes. But a bigger place would be sensible, wouldn’t it?’
‘I suppose so.’ She bit her lip. ‘Alex, my life feels as if it’s been zooming along on a fairground ride—at a speed I can’t control, spinning round just when I think I know where I’m going. A month ago, I was single and I thought you were in Turkey. Tomorrow, I’m marrying you—and in ten days’ time you start an office job. And now you’re telling me we’re going to move house.’
‘Right now it might seem we’re going fast, but it’s all going to be fine,’ he told her softly, pulling her into his arms. ‘And think of the fun we’re going to have, choosing a new place together.’
‘Hmm.’ Isobel wasn’t so sure. What he’d suggested was sensible, she knew—but she liked her flat. Liked it a lot. It had been her bolt-hole ever since she’d split up with Gary. And losing that security…
‘Just trust me,’ he said, holding her close. ‘I’ll call the trattoria and get them to deliver dinner while you pack—and then we’ll go straight after dinner.’
‘Go where?’
‘To the place where we’re getting married tomorrow.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Pay attention, Mrs Richardson-to-be.’
‘So we’re not getting married in London?’
‘No.’ He smiled at her. ‘Pasta, salad and garlic bread OK for dinner?’
It was much easier just to give in and go along with him when Alex was on a roll. And she adored Italian food anyway. ‘Fine.’
‘Good. Go and pack—I’d recommend just a few light clothes. If it turns cold where we are, then I’ll buy you something warmer when we’re there,’ Alex said.
He was giving her absolutely no clue about where they were going—tonight or after the wedding. Though at least, she thought, he hadn’t carried out his threat of packing for her.
She was still none the wiser about their destination when they left London, though when Alex turned onto the M4 she was fairly sure he was heading for the Cotswolds. It made sense that they’d get married near their respective families.
