Wedding Group, The by Taylor Elizabeth

Author:Taylor, Elizabeth [Taylor, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Classics, Fiction, Novel, Romance
Publisher: Hachette Littlehampton
Published: 1968-01-04T03:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

David and Nell went on their Sunday afternoon walk in the damp countryside, down lanes between holly bushes choked with dead beech-leaves, under the singing, hissing electric pylons, in another direction from Quayne. Each time a car came by, she snatched up her dog, and held it to her bosom, and glared, backing into the hedge. ‘What on earth are they doing, driving about on a Sunday afternoon?’ she complained.

‘Taking Mother for a spin,’ he suggested.

Because of all the cars, they seemed to be walking in single-file most of the time. He suggested taking a short cut home through the woods, where she stumbled over brambles, cursing, clutching her dog, and laddering her stockings.

Holding back a thorny branch for her, he said, ‘I want to tell you, Nell, that Cressy and I are going to be married.’

She stopped, and stared at him.

‘Cressy? That little girl?’

‘Cressy. That little girl.’

He pulled the branch back farther, impatient for her to get on, and discomfited by her stare.

‘You must be joking,’ she said, not moving a step forward.

‘I am in dead earnest.’

‘My God, your mother will go up the wall.’

He looked at her with what he meant to be an expression of disdain. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You bloody do, old dear.’

‘I had to get married some time,’ he said, betraying his understanding.

‘And often I’ve wondered how you were going to manage it.’

‘As a matter of fact, I haven’t told her yet.’

‘I can understand that.’

At last, she moved on, and he could let go of the bough.

‘I haven’t told anyone, in fact,’ he said.

When they came to the edge of the wood, she heaved herself up on the stile, large and ungainly, all bent legs, like a cow getting up, he thought. ‘You could knock me down with a feather,’ she declared.

As they neared home, she said, ‘Well, I’m looking forward to my tea.’ She pictured the fire, the buttered toast, and all her delightful new speculations about poor, unwary Midge.

Rose took up her usual place by the window, so that she could look out of it, when she could not trust herself to face the others.

David addressed himself to Joe, who roamed about, rolling one cigarette after another, continually relighting them, or twisting them, unlit, in his fingers. Cressy, who had refused to be left out of this drama, sat on a stool by the fire, looking interested and excited.

She was of an age when David felt he must ask permission to marry her. Never, for any of his other girl-friends would he have done that, and he was feeling like someone from a bygone age.

He could tell that his request had come as a relief to Joe, but Rose’s reaction was another matter.

‘But… I’m very sorry, it sounds so rude,’ she began, turning briefly from the rain-covered window. ‘It is all such a shock, such a surprise. We don’t even know you.’ Her own husband had practically been chosen for her, so that she had been sure all was in order.

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