‘And what do you get out of this marriage, then? Apart from a pretty girl on your arm.’
‘I can get a pretty girl to drape over my arm any day. Anywhere. There is, however, only one Olivia. She’s not just a pretty face, as I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you.’
‘Well, there’s no one quite as moody. When she’s in a strop, she throws things about. Have you found that out yet?’
‘I might’ve noticed.’ I don’t bother trying to hide my smile. I understand where this is going.
‘So, the fella is all right for cash,’ she says to Olivia, ‘but then you’re not exactly poor yourself. And he’s good looking, and you fight a lot, which has its obvious benefits.’ Olivia looks about to protest again when Elsie sends her an icy look. ‘You’re not pregnant, and a week ago, you’d never mentioned him. And now you’re married. What am I missing?’
‘Nothing. You’re not missing anything. It’s just. . . it’s just been a bit of a whirlwind.’
‘Yes. So you said,’ Elsie answer in a flat tone. ‘But a whirlwind just chucks people about, love. Shakes them from their normal, everyday living. It might be exciting while it’s happening, but it never lasts long. And all it leaves behind is a trail of devastation. So let’s not call this a whirlwind, eh?’ With barely a breath taken, she turns to me.
‘You’re divorced, I take it?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about children?’
‘No, I don’t have any.’
‘Do you want them?’
‘Gran, stop! I don’t even know if I want them. I can’t even keep a potted palm alive.’
‘Bugger plants! I’m taking about your future here. By the time you decide you want little ones, he could be really old. I had your mum late in life, but your grandpa was the same age. What if you don’t want to have children for another dozen years? He’ll be in his seventies by the time they’re grown.’
‘Urgh! Please, stop.’
‘It’s okay, Olivia. Your grandmother is just worried for you. It’s understandable. Our marriage has obviously come as a surprise.’
‘A bloody shock,’ she corrects, adjusting the scarf around her neck. ‘I’m just saying the things that need to be said. I speak as I find. Didn’t I say that already?’
‘Truthfully, Elsie, this is my fault. I made the announcement on Instagram, and Olivia was very cross. But I couldn’t help myself. Look at her.’ We both turn our attentions to the other side of the table. ‘What man wouldn’t want to shout from the hilltops how happy he is?’
‘She is bonny,’ she agrees. ‘And you looked very happy in your instagran post,’ she adds begrudgingly. No one corrects her. ‘You’ve just not got the best track record when it comes to lads. I worry about you.’
‘There really is no need to.’
‘But it comes with the territory,’ I offer. ‘There can be no love without concern.’ Elsie nods, agreeing.
‘Why so quickly? Act in haste, repent at leisure,’ she adds forebodingly.
‘You said you never regretted marrying your first husband, ran because it was all part of life’s grand plan for you. Well, I won’t—don’t—regret marrying Beckett because he’s good for me. Really good.’ I’d be lying if I said her words didn’t affect me. So much so, as I stare at her, I find I need to remind myself why we’re married in the first place. Whysheis my wife. Yes, I saw an her as an opportunity, a beautiful opportunity, but I also saw a little of myself in her. Because Olivia is ruthlessly determined. However, it doesn’t come from the same place. I’m addicted to making money. She just wants to look after the people around her. She’s afraid of disappointing her family.
I also thought she was a good actress, that certain facets of her personality were fake, but she’s no more fake than I am underprivileged. She’s genuine. Real. We’re all flawed. We’re all scarred, and I’m the first to admit to being a less than perfect human. But she’s someone who deserves good things, and I’m not good for her. The cards are weighted in my favour in that sense. Which is a pity.For her.
‘We fell in love,’ I add. ‘And I simply couldn’t bear the thought of her belonging to someone else.’ As I reach across the table for Olivia’s hand, both women seem stunned.
‘Well, Livvie,’ Elsie eventually says. ‘You’re a grown woman, and you’ve made your choice. I will say that I often thought it’d be a very particular kind of man you’d need.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It means this one will keep you on your toes. I don’t know what you’re smiling about,’ she says. ‘Works both ways.’ Her gaze slides over to me. Over to me, up then down. ‘You won’t have it easy. All right,’ she adds as though this finalises things. ‘Give me a look at the ring.’ Olivia dutifully lifts her hand. ‘My, that’s a bobby dazzler, is that!’ Which seems to be an answer in the affirmative.
‘Beckett has good taste,’ Olivia offers, still looking down at the ring.
‘Of course he does. He married you, didn’t he?’
