Darling Becky,
Hope all’s well in the Big Apple!Here’s the color we were thinking of for the table napkins. Janice says we should have pink but I think this pale plum is very pretty, especially with the colors we were thinking of for the flowers. But let me know what you think, you’re the bride, darling!The photographer that Dennis recommended came round yesterday and we were all very impressed. Dad has heard good things about him at the golf club, which is always a good sign. He can do color and black-and-white, and includes a photograph album in the price, which seems a very good deal. Also, he can turn the picture you like best into one hundred mini jigsaw puzzles to send to all the guests as a little thank-you!The most important thing of all, I told him, is that we have lots of pictures of you by the flowering cherry tree. We planted that when you were born, and it’s always been my secret dream that our little baby Rebecca would grow up and one day stand beside it on her wedding day. You are our only child and this day is so important to us.
Yours with lots of love,
Mum
By the end, I’m crying. I don’t know why I ever thought I wanted to get married in New York. I don’t know why I let Elinor even show me the stupid Plaza. Home is where I want to get married. With Mum and Dad, and the cherry tree, and my friends, and everything that really matters to me.
That’s it, I’ve made my choice.
“Becky?”
I give a startled jump and turn round. There’s Luke, standing at the door, out of breath and drenched from head to foot. His hair is plastered to his head and raindrops are still running down his face. “Becky…” he says urgently. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go like that. I saw the rain… I don’t know what I was thinking—” He breaks off as he sees my tear-stained face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I wipe my eyes. “And Luke… I’m sorry too.”
Luke gazes at me for a long time, his face trembling, his eyes burning.
“Becky Bloomwood,” he says at last. “You’re the most generous-spirited… giving… loving… I don’t deserve…”
He breaks off and comes toward me, his face almost fierce with intent. As he kisses me, raindrops spatter from his hair onto my mouth and mingle with the warm salty taste of him. I close my eyes and let my body gradually unwind, the pleasure gradually begin. I can already feel him hard and determined, gripping my hips and wanting me right now, right this minute, to say sorry, to say he loves me, to say he’ll do anything for me…
God, I love make-up sex.
Nine
I WAKE UP THE next morning all snug and contented and happy with myself. As I lie in bed, curled up against Luke, I’m full of a strong inner resolve. I’ve sorted out my priorities. Nothing will change my mind now.
“Luke?” I say, as he makes a move to get out of bed.
“Mmm?” He turns and kisses me, and he’s all warm and delicious and lovely.
“Don’t go. Stay here. All day.”
“All day?”
“We could pretend we were ill.” I stretch luxuriously out on the pillows. “Actually, I do feel rather ill.”
“Oh, really? Which bit?”
“My… tummy.”
“Looks fine to me,” says Luke, peeking under the duvet. “Feels fine… Sorry. You don’t get a note.”
“Spoilsport.”
I watch as he gets out of bed, puts on a robe, and heads for the bathroom.
“Luke?” I say again as he reaches the door.
“What?”
I open my mouth to tell him I made a big decision last night. That I want to get married in Oxshott, just like we originally planned. That I’m going to cancel the Plaza. That if Elinor is furious, then so be it.
Then I close it again.
“What is it?” says Luke.
“Just… don’t use up all my shampoo,” I say at last.
I can’t face bringing up the subject of the wedding. Not now, when everything’s so lovely and happy between us. And anyway, Luke doesn’t care where we get married. He said so himself.
I’ve taken the morning off work for the cake-tasting meeting with Robyn, but our appointment’s not until ten. So after Luke’s gone I slowly pad around the apartment, making myself some breakfast and thinking about what I’m going to say to Elinor.
The thing is to be direct. Firm and direct but pleasant. Grown-up and professional, like businesspeople who have to fire other businesspeople. Stay calm and use phrases like “We chose to go another way.”
“Hello, Elinor,” I say to my reflection. “I have something I need to say to you. I have chosen to go another way.”