The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,39

for women of my mother’s age. And there was no way Matt was a prince.

‘We’ll go shopping. I’ll help you.’ For her benefit, I tried to sound excited.

On the way to the shop, I tried to talk to her. Asked her if she was sure Matt made her happy. I’ll never forget her silence, before she answered. Happy enough, Jess. I never expected to meet anyone. I’m lucky. For a moment, I tried to see it through her eyes, to weigh up life with Matt versus life without him. Whether or not I liked him, it was her life and maybe it wasn’t my place to argue, if being with Matt was better than being alone.

So that day, I helped her pick out her fairytale dress in shades of dusky pink, mine simpler in soft grey. When we got home, her eyes were shining as she told Matt where we’d been; how we’d found perfect dresses for a beach wedding but how he’d have to wait until the big day to see them.

I remember watching the lines deepen across his forehead, then the look of incredulity that washed over his face, as he shook his head. I’ll never forget what he said. ‘Amy, we’ve talked about this. A beach wedding’s out of the question. We agreed. I can’t believe you’ve done this.’ A worried look on his face, he’d stood up and come over to her, putting his arms around her. ‘With so much on your mind, you’ve forgotten, that’s all it is.’

I watched her body turn rigid, before she pulled away, a look of confusion on her face. ‘Matt, no. The picture. Surely you must remember? We were looking at it only last night – of that beach in Jamaica – the guesthouse where they hold ceremonies under the palm trees. I emailed them to reserve the date. You were there when I did it. They emailed back, confirming the date. I’ll show you.’

Going over to the table, she got out her laptop, bringing up her emails, scrolling through them, her frown deepening. Then as she turned towards us, there was a look of confusion on her face. ‘I don’t understand. The emails aren’t there.’

‘Amy …’ Matt shook his head. ‘Try not to worry about it. Really. You’ve obviously forgotten the conversation we had. We definitely agreed. A beach wedding isn’t practical.’ But this time, his voice was firmer.

Then as he went upstairs, she looked at me. ‘I didn’t imagine it. I’m sure I didn’t.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘We’ll have to go shopping again – for shoes!’ Feigning brightness, masking how she was really feeling. ‘He’s probably right. The beach wedding was a nice dream, but it’s not practical.’ Behind her smile, her eyes were bleak.

The twisted dance between the narcissist and victim, both equally convincing. I didn’t want to believe that he’d set her up. But something told me that Matt was capable of anything. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive him, not just for breaking the magic of her fairy tale, but for lying. Lies my mother chose to ignore, because she loved him. And as she always said, if you loved, you could forgive anything.

But he didn’t know how to love her back. Once or twice I caught him texting on his phone, a look I couldn’t decipher on his face. Unable to hide his shock when he saw me watching, before glossing over it with one of his lies, about how he was helping an old friend who was having some problems. But when there was no evidence of any old friends in Matt’s life, I knew he was hiding something.

While I tried and failed to catch him out, in the background of our lives, distant thunder continued to rumble, now and then erupting into a storm, as Matt kept pushing my mother to sell our house and move to Hove or Brighton.

The memory of my mother’s voice, upset, is clear in my mind. ‘I don’t want to move. This is my house. I need the garden for my work.’

From upstairs, I heard the sound of broken china. I couldn’t tell if the plate smashed by accident or design, as he raised his voice. ‘For fuck’s sake, Amy. We’re getting married and you’re talking about “my” house.’

My mother’s desperate reply. ‘I love this house, Matt. Everything I need is here.’

‘Don’t lie, Amy. You hate this fucking house. I thought we’d agreed we were going to share everything. I want to sell it and get