more . . . I want to be more . . .’
‘Permanent?’ Adam grins. ‘I knew it, marriage has changed you already!’
‘I was going to say fulfilled, inspired, challenged . . .’
‘So do something else,’ he says with a teasing smile. ‘Jack in your job and do something you really love.’
‘Ad, you know I’m not qualified for anything.’
‘You’ve always wanted to be a garden designer – and you have real talent,’ Adam says, leaning forward, his eyes sparkling with encouragement. ‘Just look what you did with our roof terrace. Everyone always says how amazing it is and that you could be a professional.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ I protest bashfully.
‘Why not?’
‘I never finished my degree, for a start.’
‘So go back to university! You don’t have to be a temp for the rest of your life, Bea, you know I’d support you every step of the way.’
He always makes everything seem so easy.
‘Look,’ he says, taking my hands. ‘I know not finishing your degree really knocked your confidence. I know you’re scared of . . . you know . . .’ He trails off. He’s never sure how to refer to my ‘blips’. I see him scrabbling around for an appropriate phrase. ‘what happened to you . . .’
‘My breakdowns,’ I state firmly. He twizzles his wine glass, clearly discomfited by my choice of words. As hard as he tries, Adam doesn’t know how to refer to my ‘lost’ years. He says it upsets him to think of me so unhappy, so unable to cope with the stress and pressure of my A levels and then my degree. It’s why he’s always tried to make my life so easy, make decisions for me.
‘But that won’t happen again,’ he says. ‘You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.’
‘I know, Ad. I just don’t want to think about it right now, OK? I don’t want to think about going back to London, or going back to work. I don’t want to think about any big decisions I may have to make. I don’t want to think abut anything other than being here now with you.’ I close my eyes and take a deep, satisfied, yogic breath through my nose. Loni would be impressed. I open my eyes and see Adam has pulled something out from under the table. ‘What’s that?’ I ask, peering at the sheet of paper he’s holding up.
‘It’s our wedding in the “Celebrating” section of the Tribunal ,’ he says proudly. ‘Mum faxed it to me. I thought if he saw it your dad might get in touch. I’ve even told the journalist at the paper to give out my details if a Len Bishop contacts them . . .’
I reach across the table and take his hand. ‘It’s so thoughtful of you, Adam, but I’ve decided the wedding was his last chance. I’m not interested in him now. I want it to be all about the future now – our future.’
Adam squeezes my hand and I smile at him.
‘OK, well, as long as you’re sure,’ he says slowly. ‘I just hate the idea of you always feeling there’s something missing.’ His jaw muscle flickers in frustration as he rubs his hand through his hair. It’s so typical of Adam to try and fix everything. I think he feels guilty that he has never had to deal with big life problems himself, so he feels duty bound to solve everyone else’s. Sometimes I wonder if that’s what attracted him to me in the first place – he wanted to fix me.
‘It was perfect because you were there, standing at the end of the aisle, looking so handsome in your morning suit and waiting for me so patiently . . .’
‘ Very patiently,’ Adam points out with a sly wink.
‘Even when I wiped out walking down the aisle! But it was worth the wait, right?’
He laughs into my lips before kissing me.
‘Here’s to our future, Mrs Hudson,’ he says as we pull apart. ‘I know it’s going to be such a happy one.’
‘Me too,’ I say. And for the first time in my life I believe it.
Chapter 17
Bea Bishop feels like she’s gone back in time . . .
I tentatively lift the blackout blind, blinking as a bright
‘Permanent?’ Adam grins. ‘I knew it, marriage has changed you already!’
‘I was going to say fulfilled, inspired, challenged . . .’
‘So do something else,’ he says with a teasing smile. ‘Jack in your job and do something you really love.’
‘Ad, you know I’m not qualified for anything.’
‘You’ve always wanted to be a garden designer – and you have real talent,’ Adam says, leaning forward, his eyes sparkling with encouragement. ‘Just look what you did with our roof terrace. Everyone always says how amazing it is and that you could be a professional.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ I protest bashfully.
‘Why not?’
‘I never finished my degree, for a start.’
‘So go back to university! You don’t have to be a temp for the rest of your life, Bea, you know I’d support you every step of the way.’
He always makes everything seem so easy.
‘Look,’ he says, taking my hands. ‘I know not finishing your degree really knocked your confidence. I know you’re scared of . . . you know . . .’ He trails off. He’s never sure how to refer to my ‘blips’. I see him scrabbling around for an appropriate phrase. ‘what happened to you . . .’
‘My breakdowns,’ I state firmly. He twizzles his wine glass, clearly discomfited by my choice of words. As hard as he tries, Adam doesn’t know how to refer to my ‘lost’ years. He says it upsets him to think of me so unhappy, so unable to cope with the stress and pressure of my A levels and then my degree. It’s why he’s always tried to make my life so easy, make decisions for me.
‘But that won’t happen again,’ he says. ‘You know I’ll support you in anything you want to do.’
‘I know, Ad. I just don’t want to think about it right now, OK? I don’t want to think about going back to London, or going back to work. I don’t want to think about any big decisions I may have to make. I don’t want to think abut anything other than being here now with you.’ I close my eyes and take a deep, satisfied, yogic breath through my nose. Loni would be impressed. I open my eyes and see Adam has pulled something out from under the table. ‘What’s that?’ I ask, peering at the sheet of paper he’s holding up.
‘It’s our wedding in the “Celebrating” section of the Tribunal ,’ he says proudly. ‘Mum faxed it to me. I thought if he saw it your dad might get in touch. I’ve even told the journalist at the paper to give out my details if a Len Bishop contacts them . . .’
I reach across the table and take his hand. ‘It’s so thoughtful of you, Adam, but I’ve decided the wedding was his last chance. I’m not interested in him now. I want it to be all about the future now – our future.’
Adam squeezes my hand and I smile at him.
‘OK, well, as long as you’re sure,’ he says slowly. ‘I just hate the idea of you always feeling there’s something missing.’ His jaw muscle flickers in frustration as he rubs his hand through his hair. It’s so typical of Adam to try and fix everything. I think he feels guilty that he has never had to deal with big life problems himself, so he feels duty bound to solve everyone else’s. Sometimes I wonder if that’s what attracted him to me in the first place – he wanted to fix me.
‘It was perfect because you were there, standing at the end of the aisle, looking so handsome in your morning suit and waiting for me so patiently . . .’
‘ Very patiently,’ Adam points out with a sly wink.
‘Even when I wiped out walking down the aisle! But it was worth the wait, right?’
He laughs into my lips before kissing me.
‘Here’s to our future, Mrs Hudson,’ he says as we pull apart. ‘I know it’s going to be such a happy one.’
‘Me too,’ I say. And for the first time in my life I believe it.
Chapter 17
Bea Bishop feels like she’s gone back in time . . .
I tentatively lift the blackout blind, blinking as a bright
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