‘What the fuck does that mean?’ He leapt up, naked except for his boxer shorts, and raked a hand through his hair. ‘She’s got cancer, Em. God!’
I looked at him, pacing the floor, and could literally feel the helplessness and rage emanating from him. He looked like a battery hen, cooped up with nowhere to go, nowhere to let off the steam that was building up within him. I could go some way to easing his troubles, at least, by lifting the lid on the pressure cooker he’d put himself in. I could tell him that I thought she was lying, knew she was lying. I could share my belief that she’d made it all up to stop the wedding. But that sounded so ridiculous. Who would do that? No normal, sane person could even imagine telling such a vile and wicked lie. I could tell him everything she’d done and said to me since we’d been together, how she’d moved mountains to split us up, undermined me at every turn, and had now resorted to this, her all-time low, in eight months of bitching and bullying. Would he believe me? Unlikely. Would he hate me? Most definitely. Would she have won? Undoubtedly.
No. There was nothing to be gained by telling him the truth, but I’d be darned if I was going to let her get her own way with her vicious lies. We were getting married, whether she liked it or not.
‘Calm down,’ I said, lifting myself off the bed and going to him.
‘Calm down? Calm down? I’m supposed to be getting married tomorrow, and my mother has cancer. How the hell do you expect me to calm down?’
‘We’re getting married tomorrow,’ I said, correcting him. ‘We’re in this together.’
I went to hold him, to put my arms around him, but his hand flew up, blocking me.
‘We’re not in this together at all,’ he snapped. ‘You’ve made no attempt to disguise your feelings for my mother, and, if the truth be known, you wouldn’t piss on her if she was on fire, so let’s not pretend you actually care and that you’re feeling my pain.’
I stepped back. ‘You’re not being fair. Don’t make this about me. Your mother has gone out of her way to make me feel unwelcome from the day I met you, and I have tried so hard to get along with her, but do you know what, Adam? She’s made it impossible!’
His hand flew up and, for a split second, I thought it was going to bear down on me, but he turned and smashed his furled fist into the wardrobe. The hat boxes that I kept my mementoes in slid off the top and emptied themselves as they hit the floor.
I stood, frozen. I went to open my mouth, but the words wouldn’t form.
‘I’m sorry, Em,’ he cried, falling to his knees on the floor. ‘I don’t know . . . I just don’t know.’
The part of me that loved him wanted to kneel down beside him and rock him in my arms, but another part felt strangely detached, as if I was witnessing a desolate stranger scrambling around, trying to pick up the broken pieces of his life. To discover this side of the man I loved, a side I’d never seen before, on the day before our wedding, unnerved and terrified me in equal measure.
I sat back down on the bed and waited. I needed to take my time to process what was going on, to ensure that I stayed in complete control, because the desire to unload everything that was in my head was overpowering. But so was the panic that was caught in my chest, as the realization that he might well call the wedding off began to sink in.
‘I’m so sorry, Em,’ he began again, half crawling towards me and resting his head on my knees. ‘I just don’t know what to do.’
I stroked the back of his head. ‘Everything will be fine. I promise.’
‘How can you? How can you promise? She might die.’
I wanted to scream at him. She won’t die, because she’s not even ill. Instead I said, ‘We’ll look after her. She’ll be okay.’
He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot. ‘Do you think?’
I nodded. ‘I think she’d want us to carry on with the wedding. In fact, I know she would. She wouldn’t want us to create a fuss and call everything off.’ I could almost hear myself laughing.
‘You’re probably right.’
‘People are diagnosed with cancer every minute of every day.’ Even as I said the words, I hated myself for putting Pammie in the same vein as the millions who were truly fighting the hideous disease. ‘And their chances are good now.’
He nodded miserably.
‘So much better than they used to be. They’ve made real advances.’
I could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that I wasn’t getting through.
‘People survive this, millions already have.’ I reached for his hands and squeezed them. ‘There’s every chance that she’s going to be okay. Let’s see what we’re dealing with, and support her through it.’
‘I know. I know all that.’ He sniffed. ‘But I just can’t deal with this on top of everything else right now.’
‘I appreciate that, so let’s carry on as normal. There’ll be more to deal with if we cancel the wedding.’ I gave an exaggerated sigh.
‘But I’d rather do that than stagger through the day. I can’t concentrate on anything other than Mum right now. She needs me to be there for her.’
He wasn’t hearing me. My mind raced ahead, mentally scanning all the people that I’d need to contact if the wedding didn’t go ahead. It didn’t bear thinking about. This was not happening. I wouldn’t allow it.
I got hold of his wrists and gripped them tightly, staring straight into his eyes. ‘Listen to me,’ I said firmly. ‘We are getting married tomorrow and your mum is going to be fine. She’ll enjoy the day, everyone will be there fussing over her, and we’ll go on honeymoon. James will look after her while we’re gone, he’s more than capable, and then, once we’re back, we’ll both go along to the hospital with her, find out what’s going on, and take it from there. Okay?’
He nodded, but I still wasn’t convinced I was getting through to him.
He pulled himself up off the floor and started to get dressed.
‘What are you doing now?’ I asked, the panic rising in my throat. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going to Mum’s,’ he said.
‘What? You can’t, it’s five o’clock in the morning.’
‘I need to see her.’
‘For God’s sake, Adam, you’re overreacting.’
‘How can you ever overreact when your mum’s got cancer?’ he hissed, his face close to mine.
I was scared. He was always so in control, the man that everyone looked up to. He was the go-to man. The one who headed up a team of analysts, the family member who everybody went to for advice, the man who had brought reason and structure to my life. He was all of those things, yet now he was a rabbit caught in headlights, not knowing whether to run towards them or away. It was pitiful to watch, and I hated Pammie even more for what she’d done to him. To us.
Tears sprang to my eyes. ‘You can’t leave me here, like this,’ I said. ‘I need you here.’
‘No, you don’t,’ he said. ‘What have you got to worry about, apart from cancelling a bloody bouquet and a cake?’
I looked at him, open-mouthed.
‘My mother is dying, and you’re fretting about a sponge cake? Get some perspective.’
‘If you walk out of here, I swear—’
The door slammed shut just as I got to my feet, and, in that moment, I knew I had no choice but to show the world who Pammie really was.
30
I hadn’t thought that sleep would be possible, but I must have dropped off, as it was light when I next opened my eyes. I looked at the clock on the bedside: 8.02 a.m. My head throbbed as I lifted it off the bed, the tension like a coiled spring, ready to ping. There was a hard lump at the back of my throat that I couldn’t swallow away. I stumbled to the mirror and saw puffy eyes and a blotchy face staring back at me. My pillow had left tracks running down my cheek.
This was not how I was supposed to spend the eve of my wedding, if, in fact, I was even getting married.
I felt around the bed for my phone, and adjusted my vision as I looked at the screensaver, expecting to see a list of missed calls and messages pasted across the photo of me and Adam.