‘It’s hard for me to put into words, Mrs Hughes.’ She gave a nervous laugh.
‘Try.’
Ashleigh swallowed and kept her voice low. ‘I want to be Mrs Archie Oxton Fitch. I want that more than anything.’ She thought of the night of the ball when they’d been no more than kids, when he’d first told her that he loved her, and how she had dreamed ofbecoming his wife. ‘I guess, I never thought it would require so much effort, or be so involved. I kind of wish it could just be Archie and me, somewhere quiet. Does that make sense?’
‘Oh, it does, my love. It really does. It worked for us.’
‘I get it now, Rem.’ She smiled at her sister, with a mixture of admiration and envy. ‘I love him. I can’t wait to be his wife, to besomeone.’
‘You are someone, Ash! You’ve always been someone! Please don’t ever put your happiness in the pocket of someone else! I mean, I love Midge, I adore him, but even I don’t do that.’
‘It’s easier for you though, isn’t it,’ she ventured.
‘What does that mean?’ Remy stared at her.
‘I mean, you don’t have to live how I do.’
‘How do you live? What are you talking about? And you haven’t answered the question. What do you mean, that you’re scared?’
Ashleigh took her time in responding, doing her best to get the wording just right. Glancing around to make sure they were alone.
‘Scared because I spend a lot of my time waiting for discovery! Waiting for someone, Archie, Mum, Dad to find out that I didn’t take the entrance exam, that it wasn’t my scholarship, that it was yours, that I’m a fake!’
‘Don’t be so crazy! Surely you can’tstillthink about that, not after all this time! You’re not a fake, Ash, you’re remarkable. You have your own business, you and Archie have that great big whacking expensive bloody house that you’re renovating, you have a lovely, lovely life – you have it all!’
‘Do you ever think weshouldtell people, come clean and not have to worry about it coming out?’ It was, for Ashleigh, a conflicting thought, equal parts wonderful and terrifying. She dreaded the thought of it, yet guessed it would mean she no longer woke in the early hours in a cold sweat, having dreamed of discovery and banishment from her lovely, lovely life.
‘No!’ Remy almost shouted. ‘I don’t! That would be bonkers, like taking a massive sledgehammer and smashing up our lives! Can you imagine what it would do to Mum and Dad? It was a long, long time ago, it’s dead, buried, and telling people would onlymakeit a big deal! I’ve lied too, don’t forget. Midge would find it hard that I’ve never told him, and he has enough on his plate right now.’
‘What’s he got on his plate?’ Her sister’s words worried her.
‘Just life, Ash! Life without the safety net of in-laws with a cazillion quid in the bank and a big old country house you can escape to if the going gets tough!’
Her sister’s words were as hurtful as they were dismissive. It had taken a lot for her to raise the topic, and yet Remy wouldn’t even entertain the conversation. But it was her truth. She didn’t want Archie marrying a fraud and was torn as to what to do about it, not wanting him to leave her because she was a liar, not ever, but also wanting there not to be any secrets between them. It was a paralysing and complex dilemma.
‘There they are!’
Ruthie and Dennis made the interruption and came and sat next to them.
‘Are you getting excited, love?’ Ruthie beamed.
‘A bit, Mum, yes.’ She kept her nerves to herself, aware of how much her parents were loving the whole affair, especially staying here at Mulverton, which even had more spare bedrooms than Mrs Jenkins’.
‘You should see the size of our room!’ Her dad whistled. ‘It’s bigger than our lounge! Can’t wait to go to bed and run around it! Plus, your mum’s put a box of Maltesers in my suitcase. Reckon I’m all set.’ He chuckled. ‘I was going to save them, but it’s my birthday coming up and so I’m bound to get more. Not that I like a fuss.’
She and Remy smiled at each other. It was nice, the way her parents did these lovely, small things for each other.
‘Where’s that wifey of mine?’ She heard Archie’s voice calling and recognised that his vowels were lubricated with alcohol.
‘I’d better go and find him!’ She didn’t want her parents to see him sloshed, knowing he had a tendency to be a little open, enough to make even Remy’s fake telegram seem tame. ‘Back in a mo!’
‘Ah, love’s young dream!’ Her mum clapped with delight.
Ashleigh made her way through the garden room, heading towards the kitchen, and there he was, her love, her fiancé. And just the sight of him ... She ran and he rushed towards her, and they met somewhere in the middle. His grip on her was fierce, as he lifted her up and held her against him.
‘Can we run away, just me and you? Let’s go to Vegas and come back married!’ he whispered into her hair.
‘I wish we could’ – she kissed him hard on the mouth – ‘but your mother has ordered the flowers. And the string quartet is booked.’
