is out at the moment. You really should have rung and let us know you were coming. He only arranged to go and play golf with Archie this morning…’ Daphne Peters let the silence fall and waited, in the way that all mothers wait, because she knew damned well that Max hadn’t driven nearly three hours out of his way just to admire the dahlias.
‘Actually, Mummy, I came down to tell you that I’ve asked Jessica to marry me,’ Max said, setting his cup and saucer carefully back down on the tea tray. ‘And she’s said yes.’
‘Really,’ said Daphne with a smile. ‘Well, that’s absolutely wonderful news, Max. Congratulations. And not before time. You know your father and I have been terribly worried about you. I’m so pleased. It’ll be lovely for you to be settled at long last. And she seems like a charming young woman. We both said so when you came for lunch – Daddy was most impressed. It’s just a shame you couldn’t have come down to see us together really. Couldn’t Jessica make it today?’
Max shook his head. ‘She’s working this weekend. And to be honest I thought it would be better if I told you myself. Obviously I’ll bring Jess over as soon as possible but I wanted to tell you on my own, rather than spring it on you unprepared.’
He lingered over the word unprepared. Daphne nodded; there was bound to be more.
‘We’re planning to get married in December.’
They were sitting in the conservatory, with its chintz-covered cane furniture and view of the carefully manicured lawns and lovingly tended gardens, where a mother duck was busy leading a waddle of tiny ducklings down towards the pond at the bottom.
Daphne topped up his cup. ‘December? Gosh, well, in that case, we’ll all have to get our skates on then, won’t we? I’ll ring Marjorie and see if she’ll make the cake.’ Max’s mother paused and watched him thoughtfully. ‘Rather a short engagement, darling. Anything else you’d care to share with me?’
Max looked bemused. ‘I thought I was sharing?’
Daphne Peters laughed. ‘I meant, should I ask Marjorie to make sure the top tier is a decent size? I’m a woman of the world, Max, these things happen.’
Max looked more puzzled. ‘Mummy, what are you talking about?’
‘For the christening, Max – it’s traditional to keep the top tier for the christening.’
Max stared at her as if she were speaking in tongues. ‘Right,’ he said slowly.
‘What I mean is, are you planning to make me a grandmother as well as a mother-in-law?’
‘Ah, children,’ he said with relief. ‘I presume so, eventually, but not straight away. Will you tell Daddy about the wedding for me?’
Daphne sighed; men. ‘Of course, darling. Presumably Jessica’s parents will be in touch so we can talk about the arrangements? You have met her people?’
Max nodded. ‘Yes, they’re nice. Divorced. Her father is in business, although I think he’s semi-retired now, remarried – and her mother is on the radio.’
Daphne’s expression brightened. ‘Really? Three or four?’
‘Nothing quite so grand, I’m afraid, it’s a local station. She’s some kind of presenter.’
Daphne nodded again. ‘Well, that all sounds very jolly. I don’t mean to pry, Max, but this hasn’t got anything to do with –’ She stopped short. ‘Well, you know.’
Max looked up from his cup and saucer and said obliquely, ‘With what?’
Sometimes Max and his father took obtuse to a whole new dimension, thought Daphne.
Jess held out her hand and wiggled her fingers so that Molly could inspect her engagement ring. They were sitting at the kitchen table and Nick was busy filling champagne flutes for a toast.
‘Oh, that’s really –’ Molly hesitated, cautiously feeling her way around for the right adjective. ‘Quite striking really,’ she managed after a few more seconds.
Jess looked down at it and then up at Molly and pulled a funny little face. ‘I know what you mean. It isn’t something I’d have chosen for myself, but it’s growing on me.’
‘Growing on you?’ Molly looked her daughter in the eye. ‘You haven’t told Max you don’t like the ring, have you?’ Jessica didn’t say a word, so tactfully Molly pressed on. ‘Jewellery is a really hard thing to choose for someone, even if you know them well. Most couples go out and choose the ring together. It is such a special thing; it would be nice to have something that you really love, don’t you think? I’m sure Max would understand. Men aren’t always great at picking things, you know what they’re like.’
‘What are we like?’ asked Nick, handing them their glasses. A corporate bunny all week, at weekends he dressed like a roadie for a rock band.
‘I was saying picking jewellery for someone can be tricky even when you know them well,’ said Molly.
Nick held out his hand and without a word Jess put her hand in it. He leaned in closer and took a long, hard look at the ring. ‘Umm,’ he said.
‘It looks like roadkill, doesn’t it?’ said Jess glumly. ‘The more I look at it, the more I hate it. How can I tell Max that I hate his engagement ring?’
Nick sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘The best way is to try not to hurt his feelings, so try something like, “You know, Max, your taste in totty is spot on, but to be perfectly frank your taste in jewellery is complete shite.”’
At which point Jess laughed, which was a great relief because for a few seconds there Molly was convinced she was going to cry.
‘No, what you need to say,’ Nick continued, ‘is that it’s a very beautiful ring but not the kind of thing that you would usually wear, and that you want something you can wear every day, so when you look at it you think of him. After all you’ve got to wear it the rest of your life.’
Molly raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m impressed. This from a man who gets palpitations at the mention of marriage.’
‘Come on, I’m not the only one. Who was the woman who said she’d rather push needles in her eyes than get married again?’
‘What I said was…’ Molly looked at him and grinned. ‘Did I really say that?’
Nick nodded. ‘You most certainly did.’
‘Well, maybe I was being a bit hasty. Anyway, don’t go shifting the blame. You’re a marriage cynic too,’ said Molly.
‘That doesn’t mean that I’m not a romantic,’ he said, sounding genuinely hurt. ‘Remember that time I had three tons of well-rotted horse manure for the garden delivered on your birthday. We even gift-wrapped the tipper truck.’
Jess laughed. ‘You’re all heart.’
‘Do you know where Max bought the ring?’ Molly asked.
Jess picked up her rucksack and started to rootle around in it. ‘I’ve got the box in here somewhere. Oh, here we are.’ She pulled out a navy blue velvet drawstring bag, extravagantly lined in purple silk. Inside was a matching box with the initials LP intertwined discreetly on the lining of the lid. On the bottom of the box it said LovesPleasures, Jewellers, and a Cambridge phone number.
‘I’d talk to Max and arrange to go back to the shop together and change it for something you both like.’
‘I don’t want to upset him,’ said Jess, taking off the ring and slipping it back into the box.
Molly gave her a long, hard look. ‘It’s going to upset him a lot more if you don’t wear it.’
‘All right, all right,’ said Jess grimly. ‘I know what you’re saying, and to be honest if I can’t talk to him about