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‘I guess... Look, would you like me to drive you anywhere?’
‘Go jump,’ she hissed. ‘He didn’t even have the courage to phone?’
‘He thought you’d talk him out of it.’ He considered his words. ‘Or into it. Whatever.’
‘He sees me as what...the enemy?’
‘Maybe you need to see it from his point of view.’ It seemed like Noah was trying to make this whole scenario logical. ‘He says you depend on him. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he feels like he’s been blackmailed by your mother’s illness. By your need.’
What the... ‘He w-wants to m-marry me,’ she stammered. ‘He’s been asking me almost once a week since I was seven.’
‘Maybe he thought you’d never say yes. I don’t know. All I know is that he’s finally realised that he can’t go through with it. He says he can’t be controlled any more by what he calls...’
‘What he calls what?’ She didn’t recognise herself. She didn’t recognise the anger.
‘Addie...’
‘What d-did he call me?’ Addie stammered.
‘Not only you. I think it’s you, your mum, his mum.’
‘So what did he call...us?’
‘This isn’t helpful.’
‘Say it.’
He sighed—and then he said it. ‘He called you...a monstrous regiment of women.’
Silence.
People were starting to make their way out of the church, wondering what was happening. Rebecca was way out front. Rebecca was Noah’s wife, wheelchair bound and beautiful beyond belief. She was also the source of any vitriolic hospital gossip she could find. Right now her face was alive with speculation. Pleasure?
All their hospital friends were behind her.
Gavin’s mum was with them. Lorna looked appalled.
Her mum was beside her, looking ashen.
‘You’ve been with Gav for the entire morning, listening to this drivel,’ Addie managed at last, struggling to keep her voice from being heard by anyone else. ‘He doesn’t want to be needed? I’ve cared for his mum as well as mine, for as long as I can remember. And now... You work with me and you didn’t even have the decency to warn me...’
The chains were definitely snapped now, and her package of temper, bundled up and controlled for all these years, was suddenly running amuck. All she could see was crimson.
‘Addie, I’m sorry.’
‘Of course you’re sorry,’ she said, distantly now. ‘That’s why everyone’s heading this way. Everyone’s sorry. Oh, and here’s Rebecca, ready to soak up every detail. Explain it to your wife, will you. And everyone else. A monstrous regiment of women? His mum? My mum? Me?’
‘Addie...’ He put a hand on her shoulder.
And then Adeline Blair did what she’d never done in her life and would never do again.
She struck his hand, and, as he didn’t release her, she shoved away. And as he instinctively held on—to comfort, maybe, who knew?—she reached out and slapped his smug, sorry face, a slap so hard the sound rang out over the churchyard to the town beyond.
And Dr Adeline Blair, dutiful daughter, doting fiancée, or ex-fiancée, jilted bride—oh, and obstetrician as well—hitched up her bridal gown, tugged off her veil and kicked off her stupid satin shoes.
‘Look after Mum,’ she called over her shoulder to Gavin’s mother, because even then she was a dutiful daughter.
And then she ran.
