Before I Do(23)

“Sounds like a plan.” Audrey smiled. She could still feel the panic bubbling beneath the surface, but maybe if she squashed it down and pretended she was fine, then it would in fact be fine. Fake it until you make it. Thank God Clara was here to stop her from doing anything stupid.





13


Twenty-Two Years Before I Do



Audrey first saw her mother kiss a man who wasn’t her husband when she was six years old. Audrey’s nactor at the time, Felicity, was in the garden running over a monologue for an audition. Audrey’s questions about why dolphins weren’t fish were proving a distraction, so she’d sent Audrey to play alone in the house. Audrey was making a den for her toy horses in the hall cupboard when her mother came in. For some reason, Audrey stayed silent; she did not call out a hello. Vivien looked through to the kitchen, up the stairs, but she did not look along the corridor to where the cupboard door was half ajar.

Audrey watched as her mother pulled a tall man who wasn’t her father in through the front door. She pressed her lips against his, pushed him against the wall, and slid a hand between his legs while the man groaned. Audrey stayed silent. Then Vivien laughed, pushed the man back out of the door, wiped away her smudged lipstick, and hurried up the stairs. Audrey went back out to the garden and began to cry.

“What’s wrong, hon?” Felicity asked her.

Audrey shook her head, pigtails bouncing back and forth. She didn’t know.

“You want a snack? I’ve finished doing my lines,” Felicity offered, holding out a hand to Audrey. They ate bread and butter with sprinkles, and Audrey forgot what it was that had upset her.



* * *





Three days later, Audrey and her parents were eating roast chicken at the kitchen table. They had busy lives, but whether her mother was in a show or her father was writing all night, they always carved out time to have Sunday lunch as a family.

“Audrey, since the sun’s out, shall we put the loungers out in the garden this afternoon?” Vivien suggested. “We’ll get some buns from the bakers, make lemonade, set ourselves up for the day.”

Audrey nodded enthusiastically. One of her favorite things to do was simply sit with her mother in the garden or in their den, and they’d make up stories together. “Our plays,” Vivien called them. Audrey would invent characters and Vivien would put on their voices. It was a simple pleasure they could indulge in for hours.

“More scandal in Westminster,” said Audrey’s father, nodding toward the paper he was reading as he spooned herbed roast potatoes onto his plate. “How these politicians think they aren’t going to get caught, kissing people in broad bloody daylight.”

“Makes politics less tedious, though, doesn’t it,” said Vivien, patting his hand.

“Mummy kissed a tall man,” said Audrey, emphasis on the word “tall,” as though this was the most remarkable part of the story. Both her parents looked across the table at her, open-mouthed, which she took as a cue to tell them more.

“Mummy kissed the man with the big shiny shoes. She touched his privates in the hall. Mrs. Dunlop at school said we shouldn’t do that. Mary Carter has three brothers, so she said she sees their privates all the time, but Mrs. Dunlop said brothers aren’t the same as other boys.”

Audrey watched her mother go completely white. Her father laid his newspaper down on the buttery potatoes and a greasy smudge started to seep through the gray paper.

That was the last Sunday lunch they ate together as a family.





14


One Day Before I Do



Audrey said good night to Clara, feeling so much better than she had an hour ago. The calm voice of a good friend and a few shots of vodka were the best antidote to panic. Once Audrey was out of the bath and alone, she put some cream on her neck and moisturized her entire body. She would wash her hair in the morning, but it was nice to go to bed feeling clean.

Before getting into bed, she walked over to the window. The apocalyptic rain had finally ceased and she could see the evening sky beyond the clouds. The moon was full, illuminating the garden below, and above was the familiar shape of the Big Dipper. Out of habit, her eye drew a line in the sky to find Polaris, the northern star. Looking up at the night sky usually helped her gain some perspective. In the greater context of time and space, what did her little wedding matter? Yet tonight, however much she tried to step outside herself, she couldn’t find that perspective. It did matter to her, it mattered a great deal. Committing to someone for the rest of her life was a huge step. Promising not to screw up, forever, was undeniably daunting.

Looking out across the grounds behind the hall, she could see why this place was the most sought-after wedding venue in Somerset. She understood why Vivien had been so keen for them to secure the only available weekend in June. Behind the sixteenth-century manor house lay a well-manicured lawn, surrounded by neat box hedges. Beyond the lawn there was a range of horticultural curiosities: a walled vegetable garden, a hedge maze, an apple orchard, and a Victorian orangery. After the ceremony tomorrow, guests would have a chance to explore the grounds while being served canapés and champagne on the lawn. They just had to hope the storm would pass in the night, otherwise everything would have to be moved inside.

Audrey felt drawn to the dark garden. It looked so calm, wet blades of grass shining like jewels in the moonlight. Maybe a short walk in the night air would clear her head and help her sleep. She threw on jeans and a T-shirt and slipped on some sandals.