Chocolate Shoes and Wedding Blues (6 page)
‘I just want you to slim down for your health’s sake. You’re carrying a bit too much weight … though sometimes it’s hard to tell under all those weird outfits you wear,’ he added, eyeing today’s bright pink and orange ensemble critically. ‘Isn’t it time to stop dressing like an art student and smarten up a bit? Mother said you would look quite chic with a decent haircut and in the right clothes.’
‘I’m surprised she remembers what I look like at all!’ I said tartly. ‘And she wouldn’t like me even if I’d been gilded by Cartier and dressed by Gucci. But you used to say my clothes were zany and fun, just like me, and you didn’t like skinny women.’
‘There’s something between skinny and overweight, though,’ he said.
‘Well, whatever I am, Aunt Nan says I look fine to her. And goodness knows, dieting never works – it just makes me hungrier, so I go off the rails and eat much more. It’s a vicious circle.’
‘Your aunt Nan doesn’t like me. I think she’s been poisoning your mind about me over Christmas and getting you all upset,’ he said, which was pretty rich when Mummy Dearest must have spent the entire Christmas season pointing out all my shortcomings!
‘Aunt Nan expected us to get married long before this. She doesn’t believe in living together beforehand; it’s not how she was brought up and it upsets her. But at least she
wants
us to get married –
your
mother’s desperate to get rid of me.’
‘Of course she isn’t,’ he insisted unconvincingly. ‘You have to admit, though, that we don’t have a lot in common, so naturally she’s worried that things wouldn’t work out. Perhaps you could try to win her round a bit – wear something a little more ordinary when you see her next.’
‘I don’t have anything more “ordinary”, and the way I dress expresses the inner me – so if you don’t like that, or my weight, then maybe you don’t really like
me
either?’
‘Of course I do – I love you!’ he protested. ‘And if you lost a stone, not only would you be healthier, but it would increase your chances of getting pregnant too – and you wouldn’t want to start a pregnancy overweight, would you? You’d never get the excess off afterwards. Look at Leonie!’
Leonie, one of his friends’ wives, had gone from being a bonily chic woman, all knobbly joints and neck tendons like a chicken, to a plump, dishevelled mother in the space of a year.
‘She looks fine to me, better than she did before the baby,’ I said.
‘Do you think so?’ He smiled at me ruefully with a sort of boyish charm and I remembered Aunt Nan’s Dr Kildare remark. When Justin looked most trustworthy, was he really the opposite?
‘Let’s not argue about it any more now, Tansy. I can see what the clinic said upset you, though I’m sure they were being alarmist. And Mother really has been insensitive about your things, so I promise I’ll speak firmly to her about it. We can sort things out.’
‘
Do
you still love me, Justin?’ I asked curiously, half-afraid of the answer.
‘Of course I do,’ he assured me, giving me another hug. ‘Look, perhaps we just haven’t spent enough time together lately. I’m working all hours, and what with you off to Lancashire a couple of times a month and Mother wanting to see as much of me as she can, the opportunities have been few and far between.’
‘And the golf, don’t forget – you weren’t addicted to
that
when we first met!’
‘It’s healthy to get out and about. You should try it.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said firmly.
We used to get out and about together, taking walks in the park, but it was a long time since we’d done that, and even our social lives had been becoming increasingly separate. I didn’t much care for his friends and their wives, and he loathed my more bohemian circle. He wasn’t even that keen on Bella, who wasn’t arty in the least!
‘I can see we both need to make some changes – and some plans. I’ll tell Mother I can’t keep helping her out financially, for a start,’ he promised, a new light of determination in his eyes.
He gave me another, enveloping hug and kissed me. ‘We’ve been drifting apart, and we mustn’t let that happen. Let’s go away after the New Year on our own and have a romantic break – talk things through and make some decisions about our future.’
‘Not at your mother’s or somewhere near a golf course?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘No, some little country hotel we’ve never been to before.’
I relaxed, feeling that perhaps there was hope of rekindling our love after all. ‘Sounds perfect!’
My youngest sister Violet – or Viola, as she called herself later, when she turned into little Miss Fancy Pants – was tall and fair like Mother, and so was her daughter, Imogen. She and her husband adopted Imogen, but she was a Bright all right – I’ll get to that later, dear. I’m not ready to talk about it just yet. You let me work up to it in my own time. And I’m afraid it’s all going to come as a bit of a shock to my niece, Tansy …
Now, wet the tea leaves and we’ll have another brew, because my throat’s that parched from all this talking!
Middlemoss Living Archive
Recordings: Nancy Bright.
We saw in the New Year with the promise of our romantic weekend to come. Justin was much more his old self, but still dropping hints that if we set a date for the wedding, it might inspire me to lose weight, so he hadn’t entirely changed back! But when he was being warm, charming and affectionate it was hard to resist him.
Even so, my heart longed to be up in Sticklepond with Aunt Nan. I was worried about how frail she’d become, as if a brisk breeze would blow her away. Just as well I had Bella to keep an eye on her! I rang her every day for an update – and to exchange thoughts on turning Bright’s Shoes into a wedding shoe shop.
The shop had been closed for a week after Christmas and now, according to Bella, Aunt Nan had entirely relinquished the day-to-day running of the shop to her and just happily pottered about, chatting to customers and holding a sort of court in the kitchen with an endless succession of visitors, from the vicar to most of the Sticklepond Women’s Institute.
Of course I spoke to her every day, too, and she told me that Hebe Winter had been to see her.
‘Doing the Lady Bountiful, as usual, even though her great-niece Sophy’s the one in charge now up at Winter’s End, with
her
daughter, Lucy, learning to manage the estate. She was trying to find out what I put in my Meddyg again, but I’m not telling anyone – well, apart from you, lovey. And you mustn’t reveal it, either.’
‘Oh, no, I’ll keep it secret,’ I assured her. ‘I’ve got some fermenting in the airing cupboard now, though it always tastes better made in summer with fresh herbs rather than dried, doesn’t it?’
‘It works just the same, though, that’s the thing,’ Aunt Nan said. ‘I credit my daily tot of Meddyg with my getting to this age at all. I’ve had a good innings … That Cheryl Noakes has been again, too. I’ve told her we need to get a shift on with the recording sessions. I won’t be around for ever.’
‘Aunt Nan!’ I hated it when she alluded to a time when she wouldn’t be here any more, however cheerfully she seemed to be looking forward to going, as if it was some sort of extended holiday.
‘Now, our Tansy, there’s no point in not being ready when you can see your time is nearly up,’ she said practically. ‘But when you hear the recordings, lovey, I hope you won’t think too badly of your great-aunt Nan. Things were different in the war.’
‘What things?’ I asked, puzzled, and wondering if Aunt Nan had a skeleton in her cupboard – though if she had I was sure it would only be a tiny one, because she couldn’t have done anything very bad!
‘Have you thought any more about the shop, Tansy? I liked the idea of it becoming a wedding shoe shop, if you think it would work in such an out-of-the-way place.’
‘All the time,’ I admitted. ‘I can’t seem to stop thinking about it and I’ve even worked out a business plan. I’ll tell you all about it when I come up the weekend after next. I wish it was this weekend, but Justin’s booked us in somewhere for that romantic break he promised me, and we’re going to have a real heart-to-heart discussion about everything. I think he understands a bit more how I’m feeling now, and that we can’t go on like this. We need to set a wedding date and start a family soon, if we’re going to do it at all.’
‘I should think so! And I’m glad you and Justin are getting along better, even if it means you won’t be moving back home.’
‘Sticklepond will
always
be my real home, and if I took over the shop I’d have to spend a lot more time up there, even more than I do now … but then, Justin’s forever at his mother’s house or out all day playing golf, so I expect it would work out.’
‘It’s a funny old world,’ Aunt Nan said. ‘But if you’re sure he’s the right man for you …’
‘Of course I’m sure,’ I said, though deep inside there were still sometimes niggles of doubt.
He hadn’t yet explained to his mother that he couldn’t carry on giving her financial support, for a start, but he insisted he would do it after we’d been away for the weekend. He did sound resolute about it, though, which was surprising considering he was generally like butter in her little red-tipped talons.
But the romantic break never happened, because Bella called me the very day after Hebe Winter’s visit to say that Aunt Nan had fallen in the night, bruising herself, though fortunately not breaking anything, and she’d found her when she went to open the shop.
‘I called an ambulance and they think she’s had a mild stroke,’ she said, and I told her I’d be on my way within the hour.
Justin was at work, so I left him a note explaining and then a text on his mobile – but I knew he would understand. He’d have to.
Unfortunately, he’d have to cancel our hotel booking …
Aunt Nan looked frail and small in the hospital bed, but after a couple of days she was well enough to sit up, attired in Timmy’s lovely rose-coloured quilted bed jacket, and criticise the thoroughness of the cleaning and the quality of the food.
Then she insisted on coming home, aided and abetted by her friend Florrie, who was constantly to be found by her bedside, eating grapes and picking the pips out of her dentures.
‘Don’t make a fuss, lovey,’ she told me when I suggested she shouldn’t discharge herself. ‘I’ve got the medicine, though I doubt it’ll cure anything that Meddyg can’t, and in any case, my heart’s wearing out and there’s no medicine to stop that.’
‘I can’t bear it when you talk like that, Aunt Nan. What would I do without you?’
‘Daft ha’porth,’ she said fondly.
Once she was home she seemed to pick up and was adamant that she wasn’t going to take to her bed all day until she had to, even if she did need help with the stairs. One of Florrie’s daughters was a retired nurse, and came every morning to help Aunt Nan to wash and dress. Then she installed Nan in her comfortable chair in the kitchen by the stove, from where she could hear what was happening in the shop if Bella left the door open, or hold court with her friends.
I offered to pay for the nurse, but she insisted she had a little nest egg put by for emergencies. ‘And for my funeral, of course: that’s all planned.’ Seeing my face, she added, ‘Now, don’t look like that, lovey, because my heart’s failing. It’s tired, and so am I. I’m wearing out and I’m ready to go.’
‘Yes, but I’m not ready to let you go.’
‘You’ll have to. I’d have liked to have lived long enough now to see this wedding shoe shop of yours get off the ground, that’s the only thing – but then, when you’re called, you’re called.’
She seemed quite happy about the thought of her imminent demise, giving me cheerful directions for her disposal: there was room in her parents’ grave and she wanted to be buried in her wedding dress and veil, which was touching: her heart had always remained loyal to her fiancé, Jacob, killed in the early years of the war.
The dress, which was of white silk-satin, simply cut on the bias and with a modest sweetheart neckline, was looking fairly worn by now, since of course she put it on every Sunday afternoon for high tea. Originally it had had a lovely lace coat to go over it which ended in a train, with leg-of-mutton sleeves that buttoned tightly at the wrist and satin inserts to match the dress, but this was now much shorter, since Aunt Nan had at some time let the dress out considerably by using part of the train to make extra panelling in the bodice. But the veil was pristine.
‘I’d no ring of my own – we hadn’t much brass for a fancy engagement ring – but I’ve got Mother’s Welsh gold wedding ring.’ She told me where she’d hidden what good jewellery she had – a small gold locket and one or two other family bits and bobs. ‘Just in case I leave the scene suddenly,’ she explained.
I opened my heart to Raffy, the vicar, about how upset it made me that she seemed to want to leave me like this, and he said I must respect her wishes and that sometimes the elderly had just had enough. Then he said her firm belief in God and the hereafter was a huge comfort to her.
‘Yes, she seems to be positively looking forward to “getting to the other side” and meeting up with her family, friends and fiancé again, even if it does mean leaving me behind.’
‘I think she’ll always be with you in spirit,’ he consoled me gently, but I was sure Aunt Nan would be good for a few more years yet, if only she hadn’t got it into her head that her time was up!
Having got to ninety-two, why shouldn’t she make her century? I simply found it impossible to accept that there was nothing to be done, so one evening I decided desperate measures were called for and I’d go up to Winter’s End and consult Hebe Winter.
Hebe’s reputed to dabble in the Dark Arts, though that doesn’t seem to stop her being a keen churchgoer. But actually, Aunt Nan always said she was more of a herbalist than a witch, unlike Florrie. (And I was sure she must be wrong about Florrie, and Gregory Lyon was really just running some kind of witchcraft folklore group, not a coven at all!)