old. ‘What – you mean at the just-cause-and-impediment stage?’
‘Well, that’s what it’s there for, Poppy.’
‘Like what?’ I yelped. ‘What would you say?’
‘Something like: do you have any idea what cunning little fortune-hunter you’re about to get hitched to? That’s what. Oh, and incidentally, the married man she was bonking was married to my best friend and was the father of her children. That’s sort of what I had in mind.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ I whispered nervously. ‘He clearly loves her cunning little heart for better or worse, and don’t forget that he knew about the married man, probably the children too. The fact that it was my married man, had he known Phil, would probably have been a great comfort to him.’
Yes, I thought, as the hymn ended on a high note, Simon must have thought he was up against some handsome, virile lurve machine. Some piece of work in the sack and some insatiably smooth operator out of it. And, all the time, it had been Phil. Phil Shilling, with his thinning sandy hair, his long nose, the pointy bit of which reddened and dripped when it was cold, his thin lips, his very short temper, not to mention his very short … Well. Not that size matters. But what had she seen in him? This baffled me most, as we sat to watch them make their vows. It actually made me question my own recollection of Phil. Had I not spotted his startling resemblance to George Clooney? Was I perhaps jaundiced, due to a stunning lack of attention? Did he, in fact, have a scintillating wit and a charming manner, but only when I wasn’t in the room? Had I sapped it out of him, squashed him? With my domineering ways, my fish-wife manner? Was it my fault? You don’t have to know me too well to realize this line of thought was well within my psyche; for the finger of blame, even at my most innocent, to pivot suddenly and point inexorably at me. After all, I’d picked him too, hadn’t I? As Emma had. He must have had some endearing qualities.
Heroically, Jennie sat on her hands at the moment critique as the vicar asked the audience. I watched as Simon slipped a ring on her finger and gazed tenderly into her eyes. She could have had that look, that ring, four years ago if it hadn’t been for Phil. Unbelievable. The mind didn’t so much boggle as bulge pneumatically. I cast around desperately for clues.
They’d worked together, of course, which traditionally makes for a heady environment, sexual tension and all that – although Lord knows why, with bright lights, first-thing-in-the-morning faces and unattractive gobbling of sandwiches at desks. I can’t imagine it did much for Phil. But then he was her boss, which was well documented. Yes, that must have been it: the masterful way he called her into his office to discuss new business, poking his nasal hair back with his little finger; that would have got the juices flowing. Or the attractive way he cleared his throat at least twice before he spoke, and then the slow, soft, ultra-patronizing tones he employed, implying he had to go at this speed and volume because the person on the receiving end was not only a moron, but capable of reacting violently if he used anything like a normal tone. It all came back in a horrific rush. The way he’d patiently take a pan off the hob and throw the water away, quietly explaining that potatoes went into cold water, not hot. How many times did he have to tell me? The way he showed me how to clean the work surfaces in the kitchen, calling it Surface Training. The way, when he came home from work, he surreptitiously ran his finger along the windowsill, still in his overcoat, checking for dust. The way, in the early days, I’d bellowed and roared, fists tight with rage, and yes, even thrown a plate. And then later, when the children were around, just buttoned it. Kept the house impeccable and got on with it. Lived life in my head; a whole different scenario, where I was married to someone else, someone lovely. Knowing, in a tiny place in my heart, as Jennie had so succinctly pointed out when he’d died, that one day I’d leave him.
Why hadn’t I lived with him before I got married? OK, I had for a few months but it should have been a