The Sister-In-Law(7)

‘There’s a lovely boutique Margaret told me about, just off the—’ Joy was saying.

‘Great!’ I said, not convinced the kids would enjoy a day’s boutique shopping, but I didn’t like to say no to her. I just didn’t want to disappoint her. It was the same with Dan and Bob, even Jamie – we all wanted to make Joy happy, she was just that kind of person.

I remember the first time Dan took me home to meet his mother, I’d felt that I’d seen disappointment in her eyes. I’d met Dan one Saturday afternoon when he came into A & E where I worked as a nurse. He’d brought his friend in who’d been injured after a particularly vigorous game of rugby and our eyes met over a plaster cast. I was young, single, just out of college and Dan was good-looking, with dark hair, huge brown eyes and his concern for his friend was really quite endearing. So having sat in the waiting room on a plastic chair for several hours for his friend, he asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. He called me the next day and asked me out. I liked his sense of humour, the way he held himself, and, on our first date, the way he held me. I first met Joy and Bob for drinks at their home; it was summer and we were in their huge garden. A diminutive blonde with pearly pink lips, Joy shook my hand, and pulled her soft grey pashmina around her, as if to keep out the non-existent chill.

According to Dan, his mother had hoped to matchmake him with one of her friend’s daughters who had a horse and a private education. I felt like I had to work hard if I wanted her approval, which I did, because I wanted Dan, and I knew even then that Joy had a ladylike, but nevertheless strong, hold on both her sons. She wasn’t an easy challenge, and I doubt I charmed her in the early days with my mousy hair and lack of glamour. I was almost on a par with poor old Bob, who even at that first dinner was being told not to lick his knife. But after a few more get-togethers, she began to thaw and perhaps realise I was good for Dan, and most importantly, had no plans to leave the area and take him away from her. Why would I? I longed for stability and family, and in the absence of my own mother was glad to take Joy’s advice on anything and everything – even my wedding dress.

But what I didn’t know back then, as we considered white or ivory against my skin and pondered the toppings for the wedding breakfast profiteroles, was that there’d be spikes along the road ahead. And if someone had warned me, I wouldn’t have listened. I truly believed that my happiness was complete as I walked down the aisle, greeted by my handsome groom, and welcomed into his loving family. But now I know that my happiness was as fragile as the lace veil covering my face, and the future held far more tears than laughter.





CHAPTER FOUR





That first night at the villa was magical, the heat didn’t abate and by 7 p.m. the evening was bare-arm warm. We all sat around the big oak table on the patio, eating Joy’s sublime wild mushroom risotto, and one of my child-friendly salads with orange segments and pomegranate, to encourage the kids to eat leaves. We’d also filled a platter with Italian meats and cheeses, and as Joy and I set the table with cutlery and food, Violet lit the tea lights I’d brought from home – they were scattered across the table like stars.

‘We should start our own catering business, Clare,’ Joy said, standing back, admiring our work, acknowledging our partnership. I smiled. This was fun on holiday but Joy was quite a taskmaster, and liked to be in charge. I doubted the fun would last if this were a permanent arrangement.

Once everything was on the table, we ate hungrily, and later let the evening wash over us, talking and drinking coffee. Freddie slept on a nearby sun lounger, while Violet and Alfie played hide-and-seek, mostly under the table. Joy asked me if I felt it might be the children’s bedtime.

‘Another five minutes,’ I said. ‘They’re enjoying themselves.’ Sometimes I needed to dig my heels in where my motherin-law was concerned, but I’d learned how to handle her.

‘Oh these children must be tired,’ she sighed, reminding me again that she thought they should be in bed. I glanced at my watch. It was after 8 p.m. so I was ready to give in, but just as I was about to stand up and announce it was bedtime, Joy screamed. Then started laughing, as she looked under the table, from where Alfie had apparently tickled her legs. ‘I thought that was you for a minute, Bob,’ she laughed, and Bob almost choked on his beer. Dan and I joined in and, seeing the adults laugh, the children joined in too, and I looked round at all the Taylors laughing and I realised it was one of those rare times when I felt like I belonged. All the struggles, the heartaches, the daily grind, the little squabbles were suddenly turned into gold by the pure alchemy in the air. And I thought, This is what life is about – family. No worries, just warmth and laughter, easy conversation with people you love, your children close by, everyone safe and sated and happy.

Encouraged by the adult laughter, Alfie continued to tickle Granny’s legs under the table and I looked at Dan, who told him, ‘Enough,’ and gathered him up onto his knee.

‘He’s definitely tired,’ Joy warned, and not wanting to spoil the bonhomie, I agreed with her.

‘Bedtime,’ I said, and she smiled, a hint of triumph in the curl of her pearlised lip. But for me, nothing could cast a shadow on the evening. The air was warm and filled with promise, and when I looked into Dan’s eyes across the table, as he cuddled Alfie on his knee, I felt blessed.