I've Got Your Number
Page 133
“Really?” I can’t help feeling a glow.
“Oh, she was livid.” Felix looks highly entertained. “She practically threw the ring at him.”
“She threw the emerald ring?” I say in astonishment. That ring is worth thousands. Surely even Wanda wouldn’t start chucking it around the room.
“No, the gold twisty ring. That ring.” He nods at my hand. “When she was getting it out of her dressing table for Magnus. She threw it at him and cut his forehead.” He chuckles. “Not badly, of course.”
I stare at him, frozen. What did he just say? Wanda got the gold twisty ring out of her dressing table?
“I thought … ” I try to sound relaxed. “I thought Magnus bought it in Bruges.”
Felix looks blank. “Oh no. It’s Mum’s. Was Mum’s.”
“Right.” I lick my dry lips. “So, Felix, what happened exactly? Why did she give it to him? I wish I’d been there!” I try to sound lighthearted. “Tell me the whole story.”
“Well.” Felix screws up his eyes, as though trying to recall. “Mum told Magnus not to bother trying to give you that emerald ring again. And she got out the gold ring and said she couldn’t wait to have you as a daughter-in-law. Then Dad said, ‘Why are you bothering? It’s obvious Magnus doesn’t have the sticking power for a marriage,’ and Magnus got in a fury with him and said, yes, he does, and Dad said, ‘Look at the Birmingham job,’ and they had this massive argument like they always do and then … we got a takeaway supper.” He blinks. “That was pretty much it.”
Behind me, Annalise is leaning forward to listen. “So that’s why you switched rings. I knew you weren’t allergic to emeralds.”
This is Wanda’s ring. Magnus didn’t buy it especially for me at all. As I stare at my hand, I feel a bit sick. Then something else occurs to me.
“What Birmingham job?”
“You know. The one he quit. Dad always gives Magnus a hard time for being a quitter. Sorry, I thought you knew.” Felix is eyeing me curiously as loud organ chords from above make us all jump. “Oh, we’re starting. I’d better beetle off. See you in there!”
“Yes, OK.” Somehow I manage to nod. But I feel as though I’m on another planet. I need to digest all this.
“Ready?” Reverend Fox is at the door, beckoning us out. As we arrive at the back of the church, I can’t help gasping. It’s filled with spectacular flower arrangements, and rows of people in hats, and a crackling air of expectation. I can just glimpse the back of Magnus’s head, right at the front.
Magnus. The thought makes my stomach turn over. I can’t—I need time to think—
But I don’t have any time. The organ piece is gathering momentum. The choir suddenly crashes in with a triumphant chord. The Reverend Fox has already disappeared up the aisle. The fairground ride has begun, and I’m on it.
“All right?” Toby grins across at Tom. “Don’t trip her up, Bigfoot.”
And we’re off. We’re moving up the aisle, and people are smiling at me, and I’m aiming for a serene, happy gaze, but, inside, my thoughts are about as serene as the particles whizzing about in CERN.
It doesn’t matter … . it’s only a ring … . I’m overreacting … . But he lied to me … .
Oh, wow, look at Wanda’s hat … .
God this music is amazing, Lucinda was right to get the choir …
What job in Birmingham? Why did he never tell me about that?
Am I gliding? Shit. OK, that’s better … .
Come on, Poppy. Let’s get some perspective. You have a great relationship with Magnus. Whether he bought you the ring himself or not is irrelevant. Some ancient job in Birmingham is irrelevant. And as for Sam—
No. Forget Sam. This is reality. This is my wedding. It’s my wedding, and I can’t even focus on it properly. What’s wrong with me?
I’m going to do it. I can do it. Yes. Yes. Bring it on … .
Why the hell does Magnus look so sweaty?
As I arrive at the altar, all other thoughts are temporarily overcome by this last one. I can’t help gaping at him in dismay. He looks terrible. If I look like I’m sick, then he looks like he’s got malaria.
“Hi.” He gives me a weedy smile. “You look lovely.”
“Are you OK?” I whisper as I hand my bouquet to Ruby.
“Why wouldn’t I be OK?” he retorts defensively.
That doesn’t seem quite the right answer, but I can’t exactly challenge him on it.
“Oh, she was livid.” Felix looks highly entertained. “She practically threw the ring at him.”
“She threw the emerald ring?” I say in astonishment. That ring is worth thousands. Surely even Wanda wouldn’t start chucking it around the room.
“No, the gold twisty ring. That ring.” He nods at my hand. “When she was getting it out of her dressing table for Magnus. She threw it at him and cut his forehead.” He chuckles. “Not badly, of course.”
I stare at him, frozen. What did he just say? Wanda got the gold twisty ring out of her dressing table?
“I thought … ” I try to sound relaxed. “I thought Magnus bought it in Bruges.”
Felix looks blank. “Oh no. It’s Mum’s. Was Mum’s.”
“Right.” I lick my dry lips. “So, Felix, what happened exactly? Why did she give it to him? I wish I’d been there!” I try to sound lighthearted. “Tell me the whole story.”
“Well.” Felix screws up his eyes, as though trying to recall. “Mum told Magnus not to bother trying to give you that emerald ring again. And she got out the gold ring and said she couldn’t wait to have you as a daughter-in-law. Then Dad said, ‘Why are you bothering? It’s obvious Magnus doesn’t have the sticking power for a marriage,’ and Magnus got in a fury with him and said, yes, he does, and Dad said, ‘Look at the Birmingham job,’ and they had this massive argument like they always do and then … we got a takeaway supper.” He blinks. “That was pretty much it.”
Behind me, Annalise is leaning forward to listen. “So that’s why you switched rings. I knew you weren’t allergic to emeralds.”
This is Wanda’s ring. Magnus didn’t buy it especially for me at all. As I stare at my hand, I feel a bit sick. Then something else occurs to me.
“What Birmingham job?”
“You know. The one he quit. Dad always gives Magnus a hard time for being a quitter. Sorry, I thought you knew.” Felix is eyeing me curiously as loud organ chords from above make us all jump. “Oh, we’re starting. I’d better beetle off. See you in there!”
“Yes, OK.” Somehow I manage to nod. But I feel as though I’m on another planet. I need to digest all this.
“Ready?” Reverend Fox is at the door, beckoning us out. As we arrive at the back of the church, I can’t help gasping. It’s filled with spectacular flower arrangements, and rows of people in hats, and a crackling air of expectation. I can just glimpse the back of Magnus’s head, right at the front.
Magnus. The thought makes my stomach turn over. I can’t—I need time to think—
But I don’t have any time. The organ piece is gathering momentum. The choir suddenly crashes in with a triumphant chord. The Reverend Fox has already disappeared up the aisle. The fairground ride has begun, and I’m on it.
“All right?” Toby grins across at Tom. “Don’t trip her up, Bigfoot.”
And we’re off. We’re moving up the aisle, and people are smiling at me, and I’m aiming for a serene, happy gaze, but, inside, my thoughts are about as serene as the particles whizzing about in CERN.
It doesn’t matter … . it’s only a ring … . I’m overreacting … . But he lied to me … .
Oh, wow, look at Wanda’s hat … .
God this music is amazing, Lucinda was right to get the choir …
What job in Birmingham? Why did he never tell me about that?
Am I gliding? Shit. OK, that’s better … .
Come on, Poppy. Let’s get some perspective. You have a great relationship with Magnus. Whether he bought you the ring himself or not is irrelevant. Some ancient job in Birmingham is irrelevant. And as for Sam—
No. Forget Sam. This is reality. This is my wedding. It’s my wedding, and I can’t even focus on it properly. What’s wrong with me?
I’m going to do it. I can do it. Yes. Yes. Bring it on … .
Why the hell does Magnus look so sweaty?
As I arrive at the altar, all other thoughts are temporarily overcome by this last one. I can’t help gaping at him in dismay. He looks terrible. If I look like I’m sick, then he looks like he’s got malaria.
“Hi.” He gives me a weedy smile. “You look lovely.”
“Are you OK?” I whisper as I hand my bouquet to Ruby.
“Why wouldn’t I be OK?” he retorts defensively.
That doesn’t seem quite the right answer, but I can’t exactly challenge him on it.
