Page 36 of For One Moment With You
‘You don’t have to stop, Mum.’ I sat on the grass and watched her digging up a particularly obstinate weed. The sun was warm, the garden in glorious full bloom, the results of years of my mother’s hard work. ‘It looks really lovely out here.’ It’s true – the borders were filled with lavender and other flowers I couldn’t name, but which spilled into each other to give a luxuriant yet subtle mass of colour.
‘I must say I am rather pleased with it this year.’ Standing up, she looked at me. ‘Is everything OK, Tilly?’
‘Yes! Of course it is!’ But I couldn’t meet her eyes.
‘It’s rather hot for tea. Why don’t you sit in the shade and I’ll get us a cold drink?’ She nodded across the garden towards the table and chairs that were set under the dappled shade of a silver birch tree.
I wandered across the garden, then, sitting down, turned to study the house that had been my childhood home, the peacefulness soaking into me, memories flitting through my head of me and Lizzie growing up, of the family barbecues and summer parties that had taken place here over the years.
‘You’re miles away.’ My mother placed a tray on the table, of glasses of icy lemonade and home-made sponge cake.
‘I was just thinking…’ I took one of the glasses. ‘Where’s Dad?’
‘He went out for lunch with Richard.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll see him until tonight. They’ll be putting the world to rights – you know what those two are like.’ Richard was one of my dad’s oldest friends and like Dad, a devout member of the local church. ‘So, how are you feeling?’
‘About Saturday? I can’t wait, Mum. It’s going to be an amazing day.’ But even I could hear the lack of excitement in my voice.
‘It is.’ Sitting down, she turned to look at me. ‘It’s a big day – a wedding always is. Sometimes I think they get a bit out of hand. I mean, it’s about you and Gareth spending the rest of your lives together, not the fancy food and wine – and all those frills, I suppose you’d call them.’
I looked at her, completely astonished. I thought she loved all that. ‘You’re right, Mum. You really are. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.’
‘I wanted to.’ Reaching across, she patted my hand. Then she frowned again. ‘For someone whose wedding is forty-eight hours away, you don’t look very excited about it.’
I sighed. This was the moment I hadn’t wanted, that in another sense, I knew I needed. A moment of honesty, if only I had been brave enough. But I held back. ‘I am. I suppose it’s just the realisation that it’ssucha big day, and it’s almost here.’
She was silent for a moment. ‘Before I married your father…’ She paused before adding quietly, ‘Don’t tell him I told you this, but I almost called it off.’
My eyes were like saucers as I looked at her. She’d never so much as hinted at anything like this before. And I’d never questioned my parents’ marriage. Not ever. I’d had no reason to. ‘Why?’ I said, incredulous.
She shrugged. ‘I suppose it was fear of getting it wrong. I mean, I knew we loved each other, but how did we both know our feelings wouldn’t change? What if I met someone else – or if he did? I couldn’t bear the thought of the upheaval of a divorce – it was much more frowned upon in those days.’
‘Did you tell Dad all this?’
She nodded. ‘Well, most of it. I left out my thoughts about divorce – we both know your father’s thoughts on the subject. But we had a good chat. He was quite reasonable about it. But…’ She frowned. ‘I suppose it was when I realised the hold the church had over him.’
‘How did that make you feel?’
She sighed. ‘A little daunted, if I’m honest. He’s always known it isn’t as important to me. I’m sure he hoped in time I’d become as dedicated as he is.’
‘But you haven’t,’ I said quietly.
‘No. And he knows. We just don’t talk about it. For the most part, I don’t let it bother me. No relationship is perfect and I decided that rather than argue with him, it was better to keep the peace.’
And there it was, dragged out into daylight. The elephant in the room. My dad’s dedication to the church and all it decrees, including what he considered to be the unspeakable one – divorce; the way my mother had been wary of taking him to task over it, opting instead to keep the peace. A philosophy she’d passed onto me.
I looked at her, flabbergasted. It was another of thoseSliding Doorsmoments, when if my mum had made a different decision, if my parents hadn’t married, neither I nor Lizzie would have been here. But more than anything, I was trying to get my head around the idea that my mother had been where I was, with the big day looming, questioning whether or not she should be going ahead with it. ‘What did Dad actually say to you?’
‘That none of us could see into the future, and that we could only make decisions based on what we knew today. Hopefully, we’d work out – and God would help us.’
As she mentioned God, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask what He had to do with any of this. But I didn’t want to offend her.
She went on. ‘After that, I decided that whatever I did there was a risk. He was right. No one truly knows what the future holds, and there wasn’t anything I could do about that.’ She smiled. ‘I needn’t have worried. We’ve been very happy together.’
‘You’ve never had regrets?’ I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer, but the words were out before I could stop them.
‘No,’ she said softly. ‘Of course, we’ve had our moments. But that’s to be expected. It will be the same for you and Gareth. What matters is how you deal with them.’ She looked at me quizzically. ‘It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t asking yourself some soul-searching questions. It means you’re thinking about what you’re committing to. And that’s a good thing.’
‘Is it?’ I blurted out. ‘I just keep thinking, what if Gareth isn’t the one? I’m not sure he wants children, Mum. And I really want them.’ Seeing the troubled look on her face, I instantly regretted telling her. But it was too late.
