KATE.
I couldn"t find a d.a.m.n thing to wear to that wedding; nothing, anyway, that didn"t make me look fat or frumpy. I"d reached the four-month mark of the pregnancy, an awkward time when it was obvious I was putting on weight, but not yet that I was expecting. Everything I tried on stretched too tight across my abdomen or hung tentlike from below my bust, hardly the look I was trying to achieve. But what was I trying to achieve? I didn"t want to go anyway, would never have agreed if Cary hadn"t insisted.
I had realized I was pregnant just before we left Europe. For the previous week all the symptoms had been there: nausea, fatigue, aching b.r.e.a.s.t.s, though I was thankful I"d never gone the complete Hollywood route and fainted. At first I thought I was just tired, then that I"d eaten something that disagreed with me. When I finally did my math the grim truth dawned on me, and was quickly confirmed by a trip to the drugstore. Pregnant! I couldn"t believe it. What were the odds? I"d stayed on the pill, at least up until the prescription had run out, a few weeks after ending things with Luke. I"d meant to renew it but was too depressed or distracted at the time. It had felt like I"d never have s.e.x again anyway, so what was the point? The thought crossed my mind when I finally slept with Cary in Venice, but I could hardly stop him. As far as he was concerned I hadn"t been taking it for a year, and was probably infertile. I didn"t want to get into any deep discussions about family or future at that time anyway, and the risk of conception seemed so slight. It wasn"t as if we were going at it night and day, even after that tentative reconciliation. I"d just tried not to think about it, crossed my fingers instead of my legs, hung on and hoped for the best.
But pregnancy was something I couldn"t ignore. As if to prove the point, the morning sickness that would be my companion for the next ten weeks kicked in as soon as we got home. I vomited all through Christmas, a very different Christmas from the last. As I doubled over the toilet for the third or fourth time on the morning of Christmas Eve it suddenly occurred to me to wonder if the heart I"d carved into the fig tree in the botanic gardens one year ago was still there. I wasn"t doing anything special that day, but I didn"t have the energy to go and look.
I"ll admit I wasn"t too thrilled about the situation on any number of levels. It was too soon. We weren"t ready. Cary and I were barely talking to each other normally; now we were having a baby. I"d hardly proven myself reliable, but before long something was going to rely on me. I wasn"t even sure I possessed a maternal streak. I kept waiting for it to show up, but all that arrived instead was nausea, regret and anxiety. At night, when the worry kept me awake, I imagined the little one inside me, shipwrecked in such a hostile environment, and hoped that I"d learn to want it.
But in another way I guess the pregnancy was for the best. It closed all other options. Right through everything, through Europe, through being able to look Cary in the eye again and not pull away when he reached for me, I still wondered if just maybe ... I knew Luke hadn"t chosen me; I knew Cary had and that I was better off with him, but every so often I"d find myself wondering if things were truly over. This baby said they were. Utterly. No other man would ever want me now, and from what I"d seen of Sarah"s life I"d hardly have time to think of anything else anyway.
Cary, of course, was thrilled. He cried with joy when I told him the news, and slept each night with a hand on my stomach. He had even started thinking about names, e-mailing me his ideas from work almost hourly for the first trimester. And I guess the timing was appropriate-I was thirty-three and didn"t even have a job I had to resign from. It was time to grow up and get on with things. And that meant attending this d.a.m.n wedding, if I could ever find a dress.
LUKE.
I flew into town the day before the wedding. Why arrive any earlier? I had dinner with my parents that night, dropped into the rehearsal and planned to fly out again on the Sunday morning after the big day. No point using up too much precious annual leave.
After the rehearsal I tried to tempt Tim into coming out for a drink. He wavered for a minute, then declined as Joan swooped over to claim him.
"h.e.l.lo, Luke." She gave a polite nod in my direction, then took his arm. "Come on, Tim, we still have to staple the wedding programs."
He smiled ruefully and allowed himself to be led away. My disappointment surprised me. I could have done with the company. For some reason I felt on edge, was more jittery than I had been the night before my own wedding. Exactly why I couldn"t say, though it obviously had something to do with the thought of seeing Cress and maybe even Kate again. Still, I didn"t antic.i.p.ate any scenes, and had no intention of causing them.
As it turned out, they were both there-one ignoring me, the other eating me up with her eyes. I couldn"t look during the first part of the ceremony, but later, from my vantage point at the altar as Tim signed his life away, I had a chance to study them both. Kate was near the back, dark head lowered, uncharacteristically subdued in navy blue and somewhat heavier than I remembered. To be honest, it took me a few seconds to spot her, and I would never have thought that of Kate. But when I did finally locate her and my gaze lingered it was as if a message had been sent. She looked straight up, straight into my eyes, almost devouring me with her hunger. The impact was such that I nearly took a step back; then Cary touched her arm and she dropped her face again. Cress, by contrast, wouldn"t even glance in my direction. She looked great-creamy shoulders, upswept hair, pink lips-though I couldn"t work out who the older man sharing her hymnbook was. Maybe a friend of Joan"s parents whom she"d been saddled with and was too polite to ditch.
I didn"t see either of them again until much later in the night. There was the service, of course: promises and confetti flung around with comparable ease. Then there were the photos that dragged on for an hour, and parading in ahead of the happy couple with the chief bridesmaid on my arm. Neither Cress nor Kate was seated near the bridal table, and I spent the evening making polite conversation with the bridesmaid and Tim"s mother while surrept.i.tiously scanning the room for both of them.
It was Cress I had expected to feel bad about. She was the one I"d betrayed, after all, the one I"d promised to forsake all others for, an oath I"d managed to keep for less than a year. But to my surprise and slight pique she looked fine. Happy even, and genuinely so. She smiled as she danced, whispered and giggled to the old man next to her all through my speech, something the decorous doctor I"d always known would have frowned upon. I was sorry I"d never seen that side of her.
Kate, though ... Kate was drowning in the noise, in the music, in that terrible blue dress she was wearing. I could see her going under, opal eyes flashing a distress signal every time she looked my way. But did I dare approach her? I knew her fierce pride, the anger and humiliation she would have felt when I elected to stay with Cress. Twice I got up to go to her; twice I sat down again. Maybe she just wanted to have it out with me, and I couldn"t face that here.
I was jolted back from my thoughts by the bridesmaid tugging at my arm, looking slightly green.
"We have to dance," she hissed, gesturing toward the floor, where Tim and Joan were already shackled in their bridal waltz. Tim couldn"t dance, I thought, as I watched him shuffle around the floor as if he were wading through mud. I allowed the bridesmaid to lead me up to join them, hoping she at least knew what to do with her feet. For a moment we managed all right, but then I felt her clutch me and put her head to my chest.
"What"s wrong?" I whispered, alarmed. Her arms had gone around my neck, and I felt her going slack.
"I"m not well," she moaned quietly. "I think I"ve had too much to drink. Or maybe it was the oysters. Or both." She belched softly, and I could smell the main course.
"Do you want me to take you back to the table?" I asked, our feet slowed almost to a stop.
"Yes," she murmured, all her weight on me now, head buried in my neck.
We"d gone only a step or two, though, when I felt her body tremble, heard that shallow cough. She was going to vomit, so instead of heading back to the bridal table I quickly steered her straight outside, past the surprised eyes of the guests and into the cold night air. The last thing I saw as we left the reception was Kate, her eyes naked with want. I knew that look. I"d seen it a million times, every time we"d made love, or said good-bye: every time I looked up and saw her coming across the gardens, the pub, the forecourt of the museum.
As the bridesmaid retched into the rosebushes I urged her silently to hurry. I knew knew that look, and it was still there. I thought Kate would never forgive me for not choosing her-it was why I hadn"t called after Cress threw me out, sorely as I"d been tempted to-but maybe I was wrong. Maybe we still had a chance. As soon as this girl had finished being sick I was going to go straight back in and find out. that look, and it was still there. I thought Kate would never forgive me for not choosing her-it was why I hadn"t called after Cress threw me out, sorely as I"d been tempted to-but maybe I was wrong. Maybe we still had a chance. As soon as this girl had finished being sick I was going to go straight back in and find out.
CRESSIDA.
The wedding was fun. I"d found I loved being anywhere public with Paul, loved showing him off and basking in his attention at the same time. Whenever Luke and I had gone out-to parties, trivia nights, what have you-I would barely see him all evening. I don"t think that he was already being unfaithful, though the possibility has crossed my mind. He never articulated a reason for his absences, though I understood it well enough. Coal to Newcastle, bananas to Africa. Luke may have loved me, but I was old news. Why stay with your wife when there was a whole room full of fresh people to charm? Paul is different. Grown-up, dare I suggest, and sure of his choices. He talks to others, but I"m the one who really captures his attention, whose company he plainly prefers. It"s new; I"m new; maybe that will wear off. Somehow, though, I don"t think so.
Luke was at the wedding, of course. I had wondered how it would feel to see him again, but when I did there was nothing-no pain, no longing, just some embarra.s.sment at how blatant he was with that girl. I sensed him watching me once during the service and looked away. The other person I avoided was Kate, for obvious reasons. She didn"t seem all that great, actually, staying in the background and not even drinking, as far as I could tell. That wasn"t like the old Kate. She looked puffy, worn-out, and didn"t once get up to dance. Despite myself I felt a stab of triumph. I hoped she hurt; I hoped she saw Paul holding me close and wondered who he was. I hoped they both wondered. My turn to sparkle.
But though I wouldn"t look at Luke, Paul did-curious, he said, to see what sort of fool would throw away someone like me.
"He"s quite the player, your ex-husband," he observed as we danced together.
"What did I tell you?" I asked.
"Yes, I know," said Paul. "But I hadn"t expected him to be quite so ..."
"Good-looking?"
"Out-there," he responded firmly. "Oh, okay, then, handsome," he amended, pulling me closer, completely unperturbed by the fact. "He"s b.l.o.o.d.y gorgeous, isn"t he? I imagine every woman in the room is hoping he will ask them to dance."
I shuddered slightly, remembering another wedding. For a moment or two Paul and I watched as a bridesmaid threw herself at him and he bent down to whisper in her ear.
"See how he does it?" I found myself hissing at Paul. "Next he"ll be kissing her in the middle of the floor, or slipping off somewhere for a quick grope."
As I said the words I realized I was angry, an emotion I thought I was through with. So there wasn"t quite nothing after all. But it was only anger, and I could live with that. No sorrow, no regret.
KATE.
We left the wedding early. Three hours into the reception I couldn"t stand it anymore and told Cary I felt ill. I had been suffering morning sickness for the past two months, so I knew he wouldn"t question me. The balance may have shifted since the whole Luke thing, but when it came to this pregnancy I still held the ace.
Luke was there, of course. I"d been half hoping he wouldn"t be, unsure what reaction the sight of him would provoke. Anger? l.u.s.t? Regret? Only half hoping, though, because a part of me yearned to see his face again, to catch his eye and his attention, if only for a moment. Loving Luke had been the most powerful experience of my life, yet between his dismissal and Cary"s silence sometimes I wondered if I"d dreamed the whole thing up. I needed to rea.s.sure myself that he existed.
I got my wish. I saw him, all right-how could I miss him, standing by the altar with the bridal party, beautiful in black tie and drawing every eye toward him instead of Tim and Joan? I felt drab and dowdy in return, took Cary"s hand for solace without even meaning to. While the marriage certificate was being signed I watched Luke scan the congregation for Cressida. She in turn ignored or was unaware of him, deep in conversation with a silver-haired man on her left. And then he was looking for me; I was sure of it.... Suddenly terrified, I ducked my head and stared at the pew in front of me, but the heat of his gaze upon me drew my face up again. Our eyes met, and for a second there was a jolt of recognition, of acknowledgment. But it wasn"t enough. When he looked away I hungered for more.
I was distracted and restless throughout the rest of the service and dinner, annoying Cary as I toyed with cutlery at the table. I needed to see Luke. That I couldn"t do so easily made me feel trapped: by the event, by my condition, by the gold band still on my finger. I"d vowed never to speak to Luke again, but what was the point of that when everything in me craved him once more? Finally the speeches were over, and I got up, ignoring Cary"s questioning glance, got up with the intention of going to Luke. I don"t know what I intended to say, but it wasn"t simply h.e.l.lo.
Only he was busy. He was leaving, actually, with a bridesmaid, their arms around each other, the intent clear. She was clinging to him, and he in return was holding tight to her, hurrying toward the exit as if he couldn"t have her quickly enough. It was all unbearably familiar. I knew how he left functions-he"d left one with me once before.
Shattered, I sat down again. All of a sudden I found myself alone at our table, the others dancing or deep in conversation elsewhere. Something rose up in my throat, and with horror I realized it was panic and tears. The room contracted and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Inside I felt the strangest thump-my heart breaking, perhaps. Just then Cary materialized. "Are you okay?" he asked, and I shook my head no.
"Come on then," he said tenderly, and took my arm. "Let"s get you out of here."
I"d never been so glad for his touch. We left immediately, through a side door, without saying good-bye or wishing the happy couple all the best. It was probably rude, but I didn"t care. Would I ever see them again? I hoped not. For better or worse, that part of my life was irrevocably over, gone the minute Luke had swept that bridesmaid out of the room. Cary steered me out into the calm of the evening and I took great gulps of air, breathing as if emerging from a long time underwater. I felt better by the minute, though the thumping continued. It wasn"t until we were halfway home that I realized what it was: the kicks of our child, resonating through my body for the first time.
CARY.
The wedding? It was okay as far as weddings go. Tim is a good guy and I wished him well. For all that had ensued since the last nuptials we attended, it was actually pretty straightforward. Kate was subdued and stayed close to my side. Luke was best man and made a fool of himself with a bridesmaid. I almost felt sorry for my wife and the ease with which she had been replaced. Tim looked ecstatic and Joan triumphant. Cressida just looked great, beaming and beautiful and cared for. Watching her with her new partner, it suddenly occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, it was her I should have pursued after all, back when it was just us and the hospital we both loved, before either Kate or Luke had thrust themselves into our lives. She came over to say h.e.l.lo and was so gentle, so warm ... but it was only for a minute, and laughable, really, with Kate wan and pregnant at my side, mine inside and out. Really, the whole thing was far easier than I"d imagined. I"m glad we went.
It"s hard to remember much now. These days we stay home a lot more, and that suits me. That wedding was the last big event we attended before Joel was born. Kate might miss going out, but I don"t. Finally, I have everything I want: my wife and our child, faces that turn toward me when I come home at night.
They look up when I enter the room, lamps lit behind them. Kate is so beautiful as she nurses Joel that the burst of happiness is like a knife in my side; the lump in my throat feels as if it will choke me. My joy is magnified by the pain it has taken to achieve all this, the way hunger improves the taste of a meal.
Joel looks just like her, except his hair is bright blond. Mine was too as a child, though it"s much darker now. Sometimes I catch her stroking that hair, fingers tangled in its silkiness, her face a mask. I ask her what she is thinking about and she smiles slightly and says she never has time to think anymore. After the life Kate was used to I wonder if the days feel long, but she doesn"t complain. I call her to chat, but lately she"s never home, or doesn"t answer if she is. Maybe she"s turned the phone down so it doesn"t wake the baby. Perhaps I should get her a new cell phone.
Occasionally and against my will I find myself thinking about last year. Silly things remind me-seeing Cressida"s name on a roster at work, Kate not answering though I ring and ring. Really, she"s probably taking Joel for a walk. The bottom line is that she"s mine again and we"re happy. We"re together. It"s pointless to dwell on anything else. Picking away at scars only reopens them.
And besides, all that"s in the past, and that"s not the direction I"m headed.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
After the Fall has benefited from the guidance of a number of remarkable women. In particular, I wish to thank my agents, Pippa Ma.s.son in Australia and Stephanie Abou in the United States, for taking me on and for all their enthusiasm and a.s.sistance along the way. For their wisdom, advice, encouragement, and attention to detail, I am also deeply indebted to Jackie Montalvo of Doubleday and Jane Palfreyman of Allen & Unwin. My sincere grat.i.tude to all-it has been a pleasure and a privilege to have worked with you. has benefited from the guidance of a number of remarkable women. In particular, I wish to thank my agents, Pippa Ma.s.son in Australia and Stephanie Abou in the United States, for taking me on and for all their enthusiasm and a.s.sistance along the way. For their wisdom, advice, encouragement, and attention to detail, I am also deeply indebted to Jackie Montalvo of Doubleday and Jane Palfreyman of Allen & Unwin. My sincere grat.i.tude to all-it has been a pleasure and a privilege to have worked with you.