‘The miserable bastard,’ was Rachel’s immediate response, which rather startled Isabel.
‘What makes you think it was Luke’s doing?’
‘I know you, Isabel. No way would you opt out of marrying Luke. So what was it? Another woman?’
‘How did you guess?’ Isabel said ruefully.
‘It wasn’t hard. Men are so typical.’
‘Mum blames me. She says Luke looked elsewhere because I didn’t love him.’
‘You confessed it wasn’t a romantic match?’
‘No, she guessed.’
‘Oh, well, you have to agree she had a few clues to go on. Luke wasn’t your usual type. Too traditionally good-looking and far too straight-down-the-line.’
‘Mmm. It turned out he wasn’t quite the Mr Goody-Two-Shoes I thought he was. Not once he met the sexy Celia.’
‘So who is sexy Celia? Where and when did he meet her?’
‘He only met her yesterday, and she’s his father’s mistress’s daughter.’
‘What?’ Rachel choked out. ‘Would you like to repeat that?’
She did, along with the rest of Luke’s story. Isabel had to admit it made fascinating listening. It wasn’t every day that a son found out his high-profile hero-status father had been cheating on his mother for twenty years. Or that the same engaged and rather strait-laced son would jump into bed with the mistress’s daughter within an hour or two of meeting her.
Isabel still did not believe that Luke was in love with this Celia, but he obviously thought he was after spending all night with her doing who knew what. Even now he was speeding back up to his dad’s secret love-nest on Lake Macquarie for more of the same!
It sounded like an episode from a soap opera.
No, a week of episodes!
Rachel’s ear was glued to the phone for a good fifteen minutes.
‘You didn’t tell your mother all that, did you?’ she asked at the end of it.
‘No. I just said he’d met someone else, fallen in love with her and decided he couldn’t go through with the wedding.’
‘At least he was decent enough to do that. A lot of guys these days would have tried to have their cake and eat it too, a bit like Luke’s father did with this Celia’s poor mother for twenty years.’
‘Yes. I thought of that. But I also wondered if Luke might eventually realise it wasn’t love he felt for Celia, but just good old lust.’
‘Could be. So you’d take him back if he changed his mind?’
‘In a shot.’
‘Maybe I shouldn’t alter my bridesmaid dress just yet, then.’
‘Maybe not.’
‘And maybe you shouldn’t cancel the reception place, or the cake, or the photographer. Not for a couple of days, anyway.’
Isabel wished Rachel hadn’t mentioned the photographer. She didn’t want to think about Rafe.
‘Oh, dear, I think Lettie’s just called out for me,’ Rachel said. ‘Amazing how she’s remembered my name now that I’m on the phone. I must go, Isabel. And I am sorry. But…’
‘Don’t you dare tell me it’s all for the best,’ Isabel warned.
Rachel laughed. ‘All right, I won’t. Keep in touch.’
‘I will.’ When Isabel got off the phone, she realised she hadn’t told Rachel about her financial windfall. But she would, the next time she rang her.
Meanwhile, she set about packing her clothes. She was emptying the drawers in her old dressing table when her mother came into the bedroom, looking miserable and chastened.
‘I feel terrible about what I said to you earlier, Isabel. Your father said I should have my tongue cut out.’
‘It’s all right, Mum. You were upset.’
‘What I said. I…I don’t think you were marrying Luke just for his money. I know you liked him a lot, too.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Do…do you think he might not have fallen for this other girl if you’d slept with him before the wedding?’
Isabel turned to stare at her mother. Truly, what world did she live in? ‘Mum,’ she said with a degree of exasperation, ‘I did sleep with him. Quite often.’
‘Oh…’
‘And he liked it. A lot.’
‘Oh!’
‘Sex wasn’t the problem. It was passion.’
‘Passion?’
‘Yes, that overwhelming feeling you get when you look at a person and you just have to be with them.’
‘Jump into bed, you mean?’
‘Yes. Luke and I never really felt like that about each other.’
‘I used to feel that way about your dad,’ her mother whispered, ‘when we were first married. And he felt that way about me, too.’
Isabel smiled at her. ‘That’s good, Mum. That’s how it should be.’
‘Maybe your dad’s right. Maybe you’ll find someone nicer than Luke, someone you’ll fall deeply in love with and who’ll feel the same way about you.’
‘I hope so, Mum. I really do.’ It would be cruel to take away her mother’s hope. She’d always had this dream of seeing her daughter as a bride. Isabel had had the same dream.
But not any more.
‘You’re still going to move out?’ her mother asked a bit tearily.
Isabel stopped what she was doing to face her mother. ‘Mum, I’m thirty years old. I’m a grown woman. I have to make my own life away from home, regardless. I only moved back in for a while because it was sensible and convenient, leading up to the wedding.’
‘But I…I’ve liked having you home. You are very good company.’
Isabel thought the compliment came just a bit late.
‘You’re a good cook, too. Your dad and I are going to miss the meals you’ve cooked for us.’
Isabel relented and gave her mother another hug. ‘What say I come over and cook you a meal once in a while? Will that do?’
‘Just so long as you come over. Don’t be a stranger.’
‘I won’t. I promise.’
‘And you’ve forgiven your old mum?’
Isabel smiled a wry smile. ‘Have you forgiven me for not giving you some grandchildren by now?’
‘Having children isn’t everything, Isabel.’
Isabel gave her a dry look. ‘Said by a woman who had five.’
‘Then I should know. What you need to do is find the right man. Then the children will follow.’
‘Don’t you think I’ve been trying to do that?’
‘Don’t try so hard. You’re a beautiful girl. Just let nature take its course.’
Isabel was tempted to tell her that nature always led her up the garden path into the arms of men who’d never give her children.
But it was too late to confess such matters. She’d never told her mother the bitter truth about