June
“Ican’t find my bag,” I said, making a show of looking for it.
Glancing around the living room, Leo clocked the strap poking out from behind a cushion on the sofa. Pulling it free, he let it dangle from his fingers, as he turned to me with a wry smile.
“How did that get there?” I asked.
“How, indeed?” Not for the first time that morning, the man saw straight through me.
From making it clear I’d rather stay home, to insisting I had a migraine, I’d done my best to get out of going to the Cavendish family get-together. However, Leo loved our clan meetings, and much to my consternation, he’d dismissed every one of my complaints. To the point that delaying the inevitable was all I’d had left.
“Now can we go?” Leo checked his watch. “If we move fast, we might even get there on time.”
Still reeling over the sewing machine debacle, I’d yet to come up with a workable solution and the last thing I wanted was to spend hours listening to Mum go on about how she couldn’t wait to see me walk down the aisle in her wedding dress. I couldn’t trust myself not to tell her I’d stuffed it under my bed, where it had lain there ever since, like some fabric bogey man, turning my dreams into nightmares.
Moving towards the living room door, Leo stopped and turned. “Tess, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Even if I tried to explain, I knew Leo wouldn’t get it. Every time I took issue with Mum, no matter what line she crossed, Leo considered her actions sweet and thoughtful. In comparison, my constant grievances of late made me look heartless and ungrateful. In my mind it was better to avoid Mum altogether, instead of always looking like the bad guy.
Leo raised an eyebrow. “Well, we both know there’s nothing wrong with your head. As for hiding this…” he gestured to my bag.
I knew my behaviour was pathetic. But as soon as Sal had rung to let us know we were gathering at her house instead of Mum and Dad’s, my brain had gone into overdrive. Especially after she’d refused to divulge why. When it came to our wedding plans, I’d already had one surprise too many. “It’s nothing,” I said, ready to leave the room too. “You’ll just tell me I’m being soft.”
Leo’s expression relaxed. “Try me.” Taking my hand, he led me towards the sofa. Pulling me down next to him, he gave me a sympathetic smile. “You talk, I’ll listen. No judgement.”
Resting my hands on my lap, I fiddled with my fingers. “Isn’t it obvious?”
With nothing else left in my toolbox and a husband-to-be that was so relaxed about mum’s approach to our wedding he was horizontal, I decided to play the guilt card. “You’ve been so busy at work, it’s like you’ve forgotten we’re meant to be getting married. And now you finally have a day off, I can’t help thinking we should be doing something more productive.” Lifting my gaze, I gave him my best puppy dog eyes. “Up to now, all we’ve sorted is a date. September’s going to be here before we know it.”
Leo looked back at me, deadpan. “You’re worried we won’t be organised in time?”
I nodded.
“Because of me?”
I nodded again.
“This from a woman who keeps telling me there’s no need to panic just yet, we’ve got plenty of time?”
I shifted in my seat. “Yes.”
“Okay.” He twisted round to face me head on. “Now tell me what’s really happening here.”
I narrowed my eyes, frustrated that I wasn’t a better actor. I sighed. “If you must know, I’m worried about lots of things.”
“Such as?”
“The change in the get-together rota, for one.” No way would Mum give up her spot unless something was afoot.
“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? I thought you’d be pleased.”
I envisaged all the Cavendishes sat round Mum’s dining table, working through our cutlery, as course after course appeared in front of us. I might love Mum’s food, but her turns to host were far too formal and my belly hurt just thinking about them. I couldn’t deny that out of the two, an afternoon at my sister’s was preferable.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love going to Sal’s,” I said. “But I’m worried about what we’re walking into because we both know Mum wouldn’t agree to this without good reason. I’ve had enough shockers to deal with, what with mood boards, wedding planners and whatnot, I don’t think I can take any more.” I felt my blood pressure rising. “And to be honest, I’m dreading seeing Mum.”
“I don’t see why. I mean, I know she’s been a bit full-on, but that’s only because she cares.”
“Because I haven’t a clue what I’m going to say when she brings up that bloody dress. And she will. She won’t be able to help herself.” I pictured its puffy sleeves, embroidered heart motif, and endless train. “She’s going to freak when I say I’m not wearing it.”
