‘Really? Then how come you keep doing it to me?’
Greg stepped back, his face ashen.
‘My birthday? You cancelled last minute. I don’t care if you made it up to me the weekend after. On the day I was sat in my new dress crying on the sofa alone.’ She started counting it off on her fingers. ‘Our anniversary, you were so late for our lunch we didn’t have time for dessert. And the only reason we’d gone to Henry’s was because we love the desserts. Christmas Eve, I’m left making awkward small talk with your brothers, trying to ignore the looks of pity. I can’t do it any more, Greg. I’m so fricking lonely. I’m so blummin’ homesick. I hate our life. How can you ask me to bring a child into our dysfunctional, practically non-existent family?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me how much this bothered you?’
‘How couldn’t you know?’
‘You… you always seemed fine about it. You made other plans, saw your friends, enjoyed a night in to yourself…’
‘I lied! I have no friends and when you spend every night by yourself, it starts to become less enjoyable.’
‘Why would you lie?’
‘Well, I’m not about to become one of those needy, demanding, overly dependent women, am I? Isn’t that why you dumped Shania or Shauna or whatever her name was?’
‘You are nothing like her!’
‘Well, maybe I’m a lot more like her than you think!’ Annie yelled, throwing her bunched-up napkin in Greg’s direction, where it drifted to the ground about three feet short of him. She spun on her scarlet heels and started half running, half-skidding in and out of the tables towards the exit.
As she reached the barn doors, Greg called after her, ‘Wait! Let’s talk about this. I mean, go somewhere private and talk properly. We can work this out, Annie. Together.’
‘How are we going to do that?’ Annie replied, the words wrenching out of her, entangled in her sobs. ‘You want kids. End of.’
‘I’d rather have you.’
‘Us not having kids won’t make me any less lonely or miserable. And what if I do want kids? I just don’t want them with you?’
‘I’ll give up my job.’
Annie spun slowly around. ‘What?’
Greg had already pulled out his phone and begun typing frantically. ‘There. I’ve written an email to resign. I’ll take care of our kids while you build your business empire. No more lonely nights in waiting for me not to come home.’
‘Are you crazy?’
‘Crazy about you.’ He took a few tentative steps forward, several people shifting their chairs out of the way to let him squeeze past. Until, encouraged by Annie’s shocked expression, he increased his pace, walking right up to her. ‘It’s perfect.’
‘How are we going to afford to live on my beauty-salon income?’
‘Well, I happen to know an excellent business advisor. He can sweep floors and wash hair too, as it happens.’
Annie gaped at him. She reached forwards and grabbed his shirt. ‘I can’t believe you’d give up your job for me.’
‘I’d do anything for you, honey. I’m sorry I failed to show you that.’
‘Right. Well.’ Annie took a good look around, still gripping onto Greg’s jacket. No one even pretended not to be listening. ‘Enjoy the rest of your day, everyone. My husband and I are off to practise getting me pregnant.’
And with that, she dragged him out of the entrance and off to I didn’t want to know where.
* * *
A while later, Ginger, the woman who ran Hatherstone Hall where Bridget’s wedding reception would take place, wandered into the barn.
‘Today has been simply marvellous, Emma!’ She handed me a wodge of cash in exchange for two cream teas. ‘Keep the change. It’s such a worthy cause, and we won’t be buying tickets for the inflatable whatever-it-is, so we’ll chip in here instead. Well done you, managing all this with Bridget’s big day only a fortnight away. I would lure you away to come and work for me, if you weren’t captain of your own tremendously successful business.’
‘Thanks, Ginger. It was a team effort. I had loads of help from the rest of the family.’
