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impression?”
“You’re all so intelligent.” I shrug uncomfortably. “You publish things in journals and I
don’t.”
Wanda looks perplexed. “But why should you publish things in journals?”
“Because … ” I rub my nose. “I don’t know. It’s not that. It’s … like, I don’t know how
to pronounce Proust.”
Wanda looks even more baffled. “You clearly do.”
“OK, I do now! But I didn’t. The first time I met you, I kept getting things wrong, and
Antony said my physiotherapy degree was ‘amusing,’ and I felt so mortified—” I break off, my
throat suddenly blocked.
“Ah.” A light dawns in Wanda’s eye. “Now, you must never take Antony seriously.
Didn’t Magnus warn you? His sense of humor can be, shall we say, a little off? He’s offended so
many of our friends with misplaced jokes, I can’t count.” She raises her eyes briefly to heaven.
“He is a dear man underneath it all, though, as you’ll get to know.”
I can’t bring myself to reply so I take a gulp of my scotch. I never usually drink scotch,
but this is hitting the spot. As I look up, Wanda’s sharp eyes are on me.
“Poppy, we’re not the type to gush. But, believe me, Antony thinks as highly of you as I
do. He would be devastated to hear of your anxieties.”
“So what was the row in the church all about?” I fling the words at her furiously before I
can stop myself. Wanda looks as though I’ve slapped her.
“Ah. You heard that. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She takes another gulp of her scotch,
looking stressed out.
Suddenly I’m sick of being polite and talking around things. I want to cut to the chase.
“OK.” I put my glass down. “The reason I’ve come here is, it turns out Magnus has been
sleeping with Lucinda. I’m calling off the wedding. So you might as well be honest and say how
much you hated me from the start.”
“Lucinda?” Wanda claps a hand over her mouth, looking aghast. “Oh, Magnus. That
wretched, wretched boy. When will he learn?” She seems absolutely deflated by this piece of
news. “Poppy, I’m so sorry. Magnus is … What can I say? A flawed individual.”
“You guessed he might do this?” I stare at her. “Has he done it before?”
“I was afraid he might do something stupid,” Wanda says after a pause. “I’m afraid
whatever gifts Magnus inherited from us, the gift of commitment was not among them. That’s
why we were concerned about the wedding. Magnus has a history of leaping into romantic
ventures, backtracking, changing his mind, making things messy for everyone.”
“Then he has done it before.”
“In a way.” She winces. “Although we’ve never got as far as the church before. There
have been three previous fiancées, and I gather Lucinda was an almost-fiancée. When he
a
celebrate.” She eyes me frankly. “You’re right. We did try to put him off the idea in the church,
quite forcibly. We thought the two of you should spend a year getting to know each other better.
The last thing we wanted was for you to be hurt by our son’s idiocy.”
I feel dazed. I had no idea Magnus had proposed to anyone else, let alone four girls
(including Lucinda—half). How can this be? Is this my fault? Did I ever actually ask him about
his past?
Yes. Yes! Of course I did. The memory comes back to me in a fully composed picture.
We were lying in bed, after that di
flames. And, OK, so I edited very slightly.94 but I didn’t leave out four previous proposals.
Magnus never said a word. Not a word. But everyone else knew.
Now, of course, all the odd looks and edgy voices between Antony and Wanda make
sense. I was so paranoid. I assumed they were all about how crap I was.
“I thought you hated me,” I say, almost to myself. “And I thought you were angry he’d
used the family ring, because … I du
“Not worthy?” Wanda seems absolutely appalled. “Who has put these ideas into your
head?”
“What was the problem, then?” I feel the old hurt rising again. “I know you weren’t
happy about it, so don’t pretend.”
Wanda appears to debate internally for a moment. “We’re being frank with each other?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “Please.”
“Well, then.” Wanda sighs. “Magnus has taken that family ring out of the bank’s safe so
many times now, Antony and I have developed our own private theory.”
“Which is what?
“The family ring is so easy.” She spreads her hands. “It requires no thought. He can do it
on impulse. Our theory is that when he really wants to commit to someone, he’ll find a ring for
himself. He’ll choose something carefully. Give it some thought. Perhaps even let his bride
choose her own.” She gives me a rueful smile. “So when we learned that he’d used the family
ring yet again, I’m afraid alarm bells rang.”
“Oh. I see.”
I twist the ring round my finger. It suddenly feels heavy and lumpish. I thought having a
family ring was special. I thought it meant Magnus was more committed to me. But now I’m
seeing it as Wanda sees it. A thoughtless, easy, no-brainer choice. I ca
everything I thought has been turned on its head. I ca
everything.
“For what it’s worth,” adds Wanda, a little despondently, “I’m very sorry things have
ended like this. You’re a lovely girl, Poppy. Great fun. I was looking forward to having you as a
daughter-in-law.”
I wait for my hackles to rise at the phrase great fun, for my internal prickliness to put in
an appearance—but somehow it doesn’t. For the first time since I’ve met Wanda, I’m able to
take her words at face value. By great fun she doesn’t mean low IQ and inferior degree. She
means great fun.
“I’m sorry too,” I say—and I’m speaking the truth. I do feel sad. Just as I work Wanda
out, it’s all over.
I thought Magnus was perfect and his parents were my only problem. Now I’m feeling
like it’s the other way round. Wanda’s great; shame about her son.
“Here.” I wrench the ring off and hand it to her.
“Poppy!” She looks startled. “Surely—”
“It’s all over. I don’t want to wear it anymore. It belongs to you. To be honest, it never
really felt like mine.” I grab my bag and stand up. “I think I should go.”
“But … ” Wanda seems bewildered. “Please don’t rush into anything. Have you spoken
to Magnus?”
“Not yet.” I breathe out. “But it’s kind of irrelevant. It’s over.”
That’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Wanda sees me to the door and presses
my hand as I leave, and I feel a sudden rush of affection for her. Maybe we’ll stay in touch.
Maybe I’ll lose Magnus but gain Wanda.
The massive front door closes, and I push my way through the overgrown
rhododendrons, down the path to the gate. I’m expecting to crumble into tears any moment. My
perfect fiancé isn’t perfect after all. He’s a lying, unfaithful, commitment-phobic flake. I’m
going to have to call off a whole wedding. My brothers won’t get to walk me up the aisle after
all. I should be in bits. But as I walk down the hill, all I can feel is numb.
I can’t face the tube. Nor can I afford any more taxis. So I head toward an out-of-the-way