bit of creation. I should feel proud of it- what d’you think?”
“I should feel proud to be standing next to Martin. I’m not going to let a silly spot stop me having My Day- he should love me even with a spot. Maybe a bath will relax me, I’m starting to feel jittery. Can I have some of your bubbles, Alison?”
“Yeah, I suppose. I don’t think I can talk any sense into you anyway.”
“Jittery is good. Proud is not good. That was for me, you silly chump. You really will have to tune in better. I’m trying my best here. Now listen to me- YOU DO NOT WANT TO MARRY MARTIN. There is a much better plan for you, just be patient. You’ll attract another guy, you’re pretty enough. In fact WE HAVE A REALLY NICE GUY FOR YOU-you just have to wait a bit. What’s your rush?”
“Are we in a rush? Alison, what’s the time? Oh, God, should I have set my alarm?” and Lucy fled into the bathroom, still calling out in a frenzy to the household.
Three hours later, Lucy came into the living-room. The spot on her nose was almost invisible, due to Alison’s grudging ministrations with a makeup stick. Her hair was finally up, held with a veritable porcupine of pins, as it had inexplicably kept escaping, no matter what they did with it. Mum and Alison had stood by, with combs and mouths full of hairgrips. As Mum said, it really seemed as though her hair didn’t want to stay up. But they had got the better of it and it looked OK. The dress looked all right, too, despite a bit of the satin shrivelling up under the iron. They had pulled it flat again almost immediately and there was only a tiny tear. If Lucy kept her hand by her side it would never be seen. The arrival of the bouquets an hour earlier had caused a wave of hysteria. “But I told them I wanted the greenery to trail, not stick out all round like a tacky Christmas decoration” Lucy sobbed. “Anyone would think I wasn’t meant to get married, the way everything is going wrong.”
“That’s right- you’re getting the point at last! You have me in a right tizz here, trying to think of what to do next. That’s a problem of never having been a human adult, it’s harder to think of good annoying ideas. I wish Jotin was free. But really, a famine is more important, he’s looking after a few souls starving over in Africa who really need him. Come on, Lucy, call it a day and let me go and check on some of my others.”
Robert kissed Lucy on the nose. ‘Careful, Dad, you’ll rub off the makeup and I’ll look like Rudolph again.’
“I don’t care, you’re my pretty girl anyway and if that idiot Martin can’t remember what you looked like yesterday without a spot, he deserves you even less than I think.”
“Not you too, Dad! What is wrong with Martin?”
“Nothing, that’s probably the problem. Do you not remember your mother listing out his good points when we met him first? Once he said he wasn’t interested which church he got married in, we couldn’t find a thing wrong with him. We could never stay awake long enough to notice anything.”
“Oh, Dad. Do you still think he’s dull? He has a good job and we talk about all sorts of things.”
“Does he make you laugh?”
“Should he? Laughter isn’t everything.”
“It is, you know. We laugh nearly all the time here. So do you, when you’re here. Laughter is the whole point, really. And I don’t hear much when you’re with Martin. Too many intense discussions about the future. This future you should not be sharing. Your future is waiting for you in a house in Donnybrook, trying to realise he has the wrong wife. Jotin is working on him, he’s depending on me to work on you.”
“I like to hear you laugh. You always did when you were little. You got a bit serious when you got to college.”
“It was hard work. I had to concentrate. It would have been easier if I’d met Martin earlier, he could have been supportive.”
“Would have been better if you’d met David. There’s real support. Though the temptation to have the baby would have kicked in. At least this way you can earn your own money.” Trynor was rambling, feeling desperate, wishing his friend Jotin was here to help share the