Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,130

should see it, all ruffles and pleats. Even Jesse could manage to look nice in something like that.”

I imagined myself, a big, poufy bundle of satin and chiffon and pastel high heels, stumbling after Mabel, trying to hold her wedding train above the sticky mud of our back garden. After the ceremony, I’d be jostled between men in ill-fitting suits and women in outfits as ridiculous as my own while the photographs were taken. Despite the photographer’s commands to say “cheese,” I wouldn’t smile. Instead, I’d seethe silently in my itchy underwear and tights, the solemn witness that everyone’s eyes went to when they perused the wedding album years later.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” I said. “It makes women into men’s property.” I wanted to tell Mabel all the reasons that she should dislike Frank—about the things he’d said, how he’d cut my hand in the kitchen, how he was probably only marrying her for her little council house and her regular income. But I knew there would be no point. Mabel wouldn’t listen to me. Nobody would listen to me. In the same way that Amanda didn’t see the cruel and bullying Stan Heaphy I saw, no one in my family saw the Frank that I saw. Even Ted, who had just arrived a few minutes ago, seemed to like him. My mother had hated him, but now that he was going to marry Mabel even her opinion had changed. “Maybe you shouldn’t get married, Auntie Mabel,” I said.

“What, and continue living in sin? I don’t think so,” my mother said. “Mabel, you’re doing the right thing getting wed.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure about doing it in your garden, Evelyn. I mean, Ted’s right—it’s a bit bare out there right now.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I can buy some turf and get a lawn laid in a week.”

“Yes,” Mabel said, “but it would be ever such a lot of trouble and expense. Don’t you think, Frank?”

“Actually, I think it’s a grand idea,” Frank said. “And it might help save us a few bob in the end.” He turned to my mother. “Mabel was wanting to rent out the Snug Room in the Snail and Whippet for the reception. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard how much they charge, and, frankly, I don’t think there’s room for all the guests we want to invite. The bloody church charges an arm and a leg as well. We can’t afford all that. With Evelyn helping us, it’ll make it a bit cheaper. And maybe Ted could help us out with one or two things, he—”

Ted beamed and opened his mouth as if to say something, but Mabel spoke sooner. “He’ll do no such thing,” she snapped. “If I find out he’s had anything to do with supplying so much as the confetti, I’m calling the wedding off.”

“All right,” Frank said. “If you feel that strongly about it—”

“I do. But I suppose if Evelyn wants to help with the wedding then—”

“Great!” My mother clapped her hands together. “I’m going to start right away. While the weather’s still bad, we can work on the dresses. Jesse,” she said, swinging around to look at me, the coat rippling around her. “You can help me get my sewing machine out and we can measure you up for that bridesmaid’s dress.”

“I’m not going to be a bridesmaid,” I said. “You can’t make me.” I felt close to tears. I held them back, but they were hot and stinging behind my eyes. My throat felt dry and my chest constricted. I had a vision of myself ripping that poofy pink dress into shreds.

“Yes, I can. And I will,” she said, waving a furry arm in my direction. “You’ll do as you’re told. And you’ll like it.”

“Oh, come on, lovey,” Frank said. “Don’t be silly. Can’t you do this one thing for your auntie Mabel and uncle Frank?”

“You’re not my bloody uncle. And I’m not going to be in your stupid bloody wedding.”

“Oh, Jesse,” Mabel said, looking hurt. “I know you’re not keen on dressing up as a bridesmaid, love, but there’s no need to—”

As Mabel spoke, my mother stalked across the room. When she reached me, she pushed her face into mine so that only a couple of inches separated us. “If you weren’t so big,” she said, flooding my senses with her hot, slightly sour breath, “I’d put you across my knee and give you a damn good hiding. As it is, I’ve a good