Page 101 of A Wedding in Tuscany

Tuscany

Ilove my dad.

I love the rest of my family too, of course, but as soon as Sarah had a quick word in his ear about Cécile, Dad lifted his concerned gaze and scanned the loft, pinpointing Cécile and Louis. Then he strolled over, broad grin on his face, and leant in for a cheek kiss before she even knew what was happening. I’ve been watching them from the bar as Jean-Luc and I await the arrival of the millefoglie.

‘Have I told you how beautiful you are, chérie?’ my husband murmurs low in my ear, sending shivers of delight through me. I tear my eyes from his witchy sister and peer up at him from beneath my lashes.

‘Moi?’ I ask with faux modesty, a hand placed delicately on my chest. ‘Not in the past hour.’

He stares into my eyes. ‘You are beautiful?exquise. I cannot wait to make love to you later.’ He grasps my waist with one hand, pulling me close, and kisses me in a way that tells me he doesn’t care who’s watching. Oh, my. I am in full swoon mode now and for a second, I contemplate slipping out of my own wedding?again. Only this time for a much better reason than talking myself out of a violent act.

And even though I’ve known Jean-Luc more than half my life, he can still make my lady parts stand to attention with just a glance. Speaking of … down girls. My dad is right over there.

Hmm, also speaking of …

Jean-Luc turns towards the bar, asking the bartender for a glass of Chianti, and I redirect my gaze towards the odd trio of my dad and my in-laws. Louis is full-on laughing as Dad regales them with one of his stories, gesticulating wildly. A lifetime of Dad’s tales has taught me that they are mostly true, with the sort of embellishments that make them memorable. ‘Why let the truth get in the way of a good story?’ he always says. But with his hyperbolised anecdotes and their accompanying gestures, Dad is often the life of the party. Like he is now.

I watch Cécile closely as she listens to Dad. Oh, my god. Was that the semblance of smile I just saw? Mais, non, ce n’est pas possible! Honestly, when I suggested that we send Dad over to charm the beastly cow, I wasn’t sure if (even) he could make a dent in that armour of hers. It can’t be normal for someone to detest their brother’s girlfriend?now wife?as much as she detests me.

I do have one more tactic up my sleeve?something special for my nieces. When Cécile made the (ridiculous) decision not to bring the girls to the wedding, I bought them charm bracelets, each with two charms to start them off. Both bracelets have a small silver disc inscribed with an ‘A’ for Abigail and Alice, then a pair of ballet slippers for Abigail, who’s been dancing since she was three, and a star for Alice, who at four is precociously fascinated by astronomy. They’re gift-wrapped and tucked behind the bar. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to give them to Cécile and Louis. Of course, with all her antics?bringing Vanessa, having to be strongarmed into taking family photographs, then telling Siobhan (and god knows who else) that I am moving to Paris?there hasn’t been a right time.

‘Oh, my god,’ says Sarah, who has stealthily appeared by my side?uncharacteristic for her. ‘It might actually be working.’ She’s watching the trio in the next room and right as I look over, Cécile touches Dad on the forearm. Sarah’s eyes fly to mine. ‘Oh, wow. He’s good. He’s really, really good. So, you still going ahead with the presents for the girls?’ she asks.

‘Maybe I don’t need to,’ I reply. ‘Though what am I going to do with two monogrammed charm bracelets? I suppose we could give them to the girls at Christmas.’ I glance over at Jean-Luc to see what he thinks, but he’s disappeared. I’ve been so fixated on his sister, I didn’t even see him walk away.

‘I think you should do it now,’ says Sarah, pulling my attention back to the matter at hand. ‘Go talk to her while Dad’s got her warmed up.’

‘Eww.’

‘Not like that, Cat. Gross.’

‘You’re the one who said it.’ She tuts. ‘You really think I should do it now?’

‘When else? You’re cutting the cake soon. For anyone who doesn’t want to hang around at a wedding, that’s the cue to leave.’

‘Hmm, I suppose.’

She disappears around the back of the bar and returns with the small boxes. ‘Go?before you talk yourself out of it.’

I draw a deep breath and take the gifts from Sarah then walk purposefully across the room. I am a woman on a mission?a potentially dangerous, but necessary, mission. ‘Cécile,’ I say slipping the boxes behind my back. ‘I wondered if I might have a moment.’ The tepid smile she was sporting disappears the instant she sets eyes on me and her entire countenance sours.

‘Louis,’ says Dad, ‘how about we top up these drinks.’ Dad holds up an empty wine glass to punctuate his point.

‘Uh, yes, of course.’ They slip away, Dad catching my eye as he leaves and sending me a look of solidarity. As I said, I love my dad and just knowing he’s on my side gives me a little boost of confidence.

‘Shall we sit?’ I ask Cécile.

Eyeing me curiously, she nods then moves to a pair of chairs that look out the nearest window. Sitting side by side wasn’t exactly what I had in mind but I sit next to my sister-in-law, setting the gifts in my lap, and peer out at the inky outlines of conifers and a sky peppered with stars. ‘It’s beautiful here,’ I say without thinking.

When I realise it’s an odd start to our conversation, I turn towards her but she’s watching the view too. She nods again?a chink perhaps, a way in. My mind suddenly floods with dozens of fleeting memories of our time together over the past couple of years. Jean-Luc and I have visited their home in Lyon?mostly to see our nieces?but have never been invited to stay over. We always book an Airbnb somewhere close and our visits are only ever for a night or two.

And of course, I’ve seen her at the familial home?on the outskirts of Lyon. We have stayed there while visiting Jean-Luc’s parents, but it is a cold house. And I don’t mean the temperature, although in the dead of winter it’s freezing. I mean that the Carons may love each other, but theirs isn’t the sort of home where that love is evident, where it permeates the air like it does at my parents’ home. It’s more of a house, a dwelling where the inhabitants happen to be related. And Jean-Luc’s parents only ever speak French, even when he first brought me home and they knew I could barely understand a word.

I am certain that in their minds I am a massive downgrade from the beautiful, accomplished, and sophisticated Vanessa.

Just seeing her today … my stomach clenches at the image of her walking into my wedding.

But there’s something else. A flicker of anger warms my centre, its flames licking and growing as I sit next to a silent Cécile. How dare she. How dare she try to derail my wedding by bringing Vanessa. How dare she sit here in silence when she has so much to apologise for. Unlike the anger and hurt I’ve previously felt at her hands, this is fury?it’s potent and mature and intelligent and I now know just what to say to her.

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