Part 4 (2/2)

'I'm out of here,' said Lucy, unfurling herself from the chair. 'Nice seeing you, Mike. And don't listen to any more garbage from her. The wine's already gone to her head.'

'So,' I said to him, motioning for him to take Lucy's seat beside me, 'what do you think? I'm getting married! Did you ever think you'd see the day?'

'Ahm, it's great.'

'You know,' I said, refilling my gla.s.s he hadn't touched his, 'there was a time when I'd convinced myself I was going to marry you.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah.' I giggled. 'I did. When you were going out with Jean and Mum used to make ye take me on your dates when she'd nowhere else to offload me. Do you remember?'

'I do.'

'And I wasn't even that young, but I do remember thinking that when I got older I'd just marry you. It seemed the sensible thing to do.'

'And... what were you going to do about Jean?'

'Oh, I didn't think that far ahead. I probably presumed you'd have got tired of her by then.'

'Really?'

'Oh, don't look so serious, Mike. I got over you when I fell in love with George Michael. Though it didn't work out with him either...'

Mike didn't seem to find my joke as funny as I did. 'So where's Keith? It's usual to invite the fiance to the engagement party.'

'Oh, he'll be along in a while. I told him things would be starting a little later than originally planned. I'm only thinking of his heart he has no idea how much stress my mother can generate at one of these things.'

'Anyway, Kate,' he said edging a little closer, 'I really hope you'll be very happy. You deserve it.'

'Thanks, Mike, I really appreciate that.'

It was odd, but as he took my hand and gave it a squeeze, I did wonder that he wasn't a little happier.

Just then, as if on cue, Keith materialized in front of us. He just stood there for a second as if he didn't quite know what to do. Mike got up immediately, pus.h.i.+ng his chair back with undue force, and put out his hand. 'Congratulations, Keith,' he said quickly, almost automatically. 'Well done. I hope ye'll be very happy.'

'Thanks, Mike,' he said giving Mike's hand a perfunctory shake. 'I'm sure we will be.'

Suddenly Jean crashed through the door with a tray of canapes, howling about how I never lost it and it was so typical of me to be sitting on my a.s.s while everybody else did the work. Didn't I know that everybody was in the sitting room waiting for us? Didn't I realize this party was for me? To shut her up I grabbed Keith and descended upon the crowd waiting anxiously in the sitting room where there followed an obscene amount of hugging and kissing and wailing, all of it conducted about two octaves above what was healthy for the human ear to deal with.

Keith rose manfully to the occasion, saying the right things, hugging heartily, kissing tenderly, even blus.h.i.+ng slightly. I got dragged into the centre of it while everybody admired the fabulous vintage ring and congratulated Keith on his great taste in jewellery as well as women, and for a moment I revelled in the attention, even though I was still unsettled by the events of the afternoon. Thankfully, my father interrupted the orgy of well-wis.h.i.+ng he had urgent need of Keith in the cellar so I went off to find Lucy again.

However, it wasn't long before every room in the house had filled with my extended family, and Lucy and I had no option but to join the throng. Lucy was accosted by some long-lost neighbour in the hallway and I situated myself centre stage in the sitting room. It was packed with people I didn't care about, but that couldn't take from the feeling of warmth I always get in that room. It hasn't changed much since we were kids, but unlike most seventies living rooms it was never done out in shades of orange and brown polyester. My mother's taste in clothes translates well to a high-ceilinged turn-of-the-century drawing room. The walls are white where they aren't bearing some interesting, if largely unnoteworthy, artwork. These pieces are Dad's choice. The furniture is a mixture of mahogany, maple and oak, all of it antique. The periods are mixed but the theme is not: each piece the sofa, the leather armchairs, the chaise longue chaise longue, the maple sideboard, the bookcase, the end tables is functional and beautiful.

I spied one of my aunts sitting gingerly on the edge of Dad's favourite chair and was turning away when she caught my eye. 'Kate, petal, sweetheart, congratulations! We've been dying to see you. Your father's run away with your lovely man. We hardly got a chance to say h.e.l.lo but he looked very nice, very handsome. Are you delighted, my dear?'

This was Mary, the aunt who apparently hadn't believed in Keith's existence. It would have been too wonderful if I could have kept her away from Keith all night.

'h.e.l.lo, Auntie, yes, we're delighted.'

'And your mother tells me there's no date set and nothing booked. You can't hang around, these days everything's booked years in advance. I was only telling your mother how your cousin Gina couldn't get a Sat.u.r.day in the Castletory Park for three years! Of course, the Castletory Park is a premier hotel you might get something if you went further afield. So, when are ye thinking of?'

'We don't really know, to be honest. There's been so much going on we haven't had time to think about it. Sure you know yourself.'

'Absolutely!'

Then it was the turn of another aunt to swing round and berate me for being so sly and keeping everything so tight. But at least Auntie Brenda was making herself useful by carrying round a tray of drinks, so I helped myself and wandered into the dining room. There were as many people there, but it didn't seem as crowded as everybody was forced to give way to the large mahogany table in the centre of the room. It radiated a profound sense of calm. Jean was sitting by herself at one of the large sash windows.

'Hi, Jeanie! You enjoying yourself?'

'Oh, hi, hon! Listen, sorry for screaming at you earlier. I really am delighted for you, if a little surprised. It's a bit rushed, isn't it?' Jean knew who my last boyfriend had been.

'Oh, not really. It just seemed right, you know? I suppose it is a bit rushed but we're not getting any younger here.'

Jean smiled and gave me a squeeze. She's not a bad old sort sometimes.

'And how are you?'

'Oh, fine. Busy. Nothing new.'

She paused and seemed to be about to say something else, but changed her mind. She looked quite pretty tonight. She had allowed her hair to grow longer, which suited her. Also, she had stopped dyeing it herself and invested in a good colourist. She was even wearing makeup, which she seldom did. I decided to tell her. 'You look really nice tonight.'

'Hey, thank you. I did did make a bit of an effort, given the occasion.' She smiled again, reminding me of a photo Mum has in the sitting room. She had just made her confirmation and believed herself to be filled with the Holy Spirit. make a bit of an effort, given the occasion.' She smiled again, reminding me of a photo Mum has in the sitting room. She had just made her confirmation and believed herself to be filled with the Holy Spirit.

We were interrupted by yet another aunt; this time it was Auntie Joan, trying to get the five sisters out in the hall for a photograph. 'Come on, come on,' she was going on, 'we're nearly there now. It's all down to you, Lucy.' I tried telling her that we were missing Anna and suggesting that we'd better wait until all six of us were together, but nothing would put her off. She already had Ruth posing at the foot of the stairs; Marion was leaning against the jamb of the sitting-room door, refusing to move; Jean and I remained highly sceptical behind Auntie Joan, and Lucy was nowhere to be found. My mother was flapping around, not sure whether she objected more to the fact that her sister was taking over or to the fact that n.o.body would co-operate with her. I suggested going off to find Lucy but Auntie Joan was letting n.o.body go. 'She'll make her way back to the drinks soon enough,' somebody said.

Meanwhile Dad returned with a camcorder. He'd borrowed it from one of the neighbours and thought it would solve the problem of elusive and uncooperative daughters. We posed reluctantly and he captured us all, then handed the camera to Auntie Joan and told her to go and find Lucy. He said he had an idea she was out in the back garden somewhere. 'Your mother would love a little word,' he said to me.

'What?'

'About the party and how well it's going. How much you appreciate her and all that.'

'Oh, yes, Dad, sorry.'

'She's talking to your auntie Margaret in the dining room.' I eventually found my mother sitting alone at the kitchen table, sipping a gla.s.s of Harvey's Bristol Cream.

'h.e.l.lo, love,' she said. 'Don't tell your father I'm drinking this. He thinks it's awful rubbish.'

I knew it was her favourite. Her parents used to drink it by the bucketful when they could afford it.

'Of course I won't. You OK, Mum?'

'Oh, I'm a little tired. It's a lot of work, after all.'

'I know, and I really appreciate it. It's been a great party. Everybody's having a brilliant time.'

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