Hours later, Oliver and I were sitting in his parent’s front room. We had rang my father the night before and asked him to make the drive down so we could all talk. Oliver’s parents were a bit surprised to see Daddy pull up, as we hadn’t had time to tell them he was coming, but they were pleasant as always and welcomed him right in.
“Well, what is this about then?” Ana smiled as she set down the tea tray.
My heart was pounding in my throat. Oliver looked quite cool, however. I still didn’t know if this was the best thing, springing it on everyone all at once that we’d lied about how we were going to spend our holiday and had eloped two days after we’d left school. But Alexander and Oliver had out voted me. They were sure that it was best to get it over with in one loud bang.
“Do I have the floor?” Oliver asked, sounding a bit excited, “Right then! Where to begin? Begin at the beginning, I always say! So, as you know, we all went off on holiday two weeks ago, separately at first…” He began speaking rather quickly, which was more or less normal for him. He carefully skimmed the details of events and bent truths, which included not even mentioning Alexander had buggered off to England to be with Meredith and then forged parental consent for us to be married, or that we’d gone off with each other the day after school broke up. These facts were omitted in an obvious effort to make the story easier to digest for our parents and to help all of us, who were each stone cold guilty, seem more innocent. When all had been said, Oliver had managed to spin the entire tale in less than seven minutes. I know because I was watching the clock the entire time.
“And just like that, we were married! Alex scampered off to see Lance in Caernarfon to let us alone-like and here we are now telling all of you our good news!” Oliver finished as casually as if he were announcing how he had scored on his final tests at school. He clapped his hands together, “Brilliant! Right! Now what’s to eat, Mum?”
The room was dreadfully silent for about one single second. Everybody was in a frozen state of shock. Oliver often had that effect on an audience.
“You did WHAT?” Ana screeched as she tossed her biscuit into the air. It landed in my father’s tea, causing the hot liquid to splash on to the back of his hand. He wiped it absently with his serviette, looking at Oliver as if he had explained the situation by a using combination of mime, baton twirling and smoke signals.
I could hear my sister from the doorway where she stood with Alexander. I swear she couldn’t help herself. If she was more than ten inches from him she had to somehow find a way to get closer, “What’s the big deal?”
What was the big deal? I could feel myself edging toward a full on panic attack. Oliver and I sat across from his parents and my father, exactly in the spot I had wanted to avoid being in. I gripped Oliver’s hand tightly for support as I was certain I was about to pass out. I didn’t want anyone to hate me, but just the same, Oliver was my husband now. He still smelled like soap mixed with clean earth and burned wood and I wanted to leave quickly so I could kiss him violently and endlessly and be his wife in every sense. I wanted to go back to the cabin in the wood and never see anybody but him ever again. I was still afraid that his parents would realise that the marriage was not legal and force the issue of the fake consent, even after Oliver had assured me that they wouldn‘t. I was sure they could have us annulled in about ten seconds. I was afraid to return to school as well because I knew they would never let us be together and I would have to lie alone in that dormitory full of girls who suddenly seemed like children to me.
My heart was thumping painfully. I looked at my husband and him at me. “Let’s run away,” I begged desperately with my eyes, “Now, Oliver… ready…one…two…three…RUN!”
He got my message, but instead of hurdling the sofa our parents sat on and running out the garden door as if our lives depended on it, he winked at me.
He turned slowly back to his mother, “I said,” Oliver’s voice was calm, although it did give away a hint of irritation at even having to explain again, “That Silvia and I got married the Sunday before last.”
The room was silent again. I could hear the clock. Tick, tick. Tick, tick. And the sound of a car whizzing past outside. Wiiiiiiiiiissssssh. Suddenly his mother’s Pekinese startled and made a sound as if she had swallowed herself whole. Alexander gave her a soft nudge with his foot.
All three of our parents stared at us with no idea at all of how to react or what to say.
“Is he joking, Xander?” Ana asked hopefully, looking toward the doorway for support. I could see the ends of her blonde hair shaking, but she didn't give it away if she were trembling, “Be serious now, the both of you!”
“He’s not joking, Mum,” Alex answered glibly, resting his hand on Lucy’s head.
“Well,” My father finally spoke with the enthusiasm of a soggy green bean, “Why wasn’t I informed before you did this, Silvia? You could have rang! I might have liked to have seen my daughter married!”
Oliver’s mother was still staring at us, wide eyed with her mouth hanging open, bits of biscuit sticking to her bottom lip. She moved her mouth, but no sound escaped. Finally, she gathered herself and managed a look of stunned outrage.
Edmond however, was having little problem with the outrage. He absently wiped at his wife’s face to rid her of the crumbs, but got her nose more than her mouth. His face was becoming redder as he cleared his throat, “BLOODY HELL, BOY! WHAT MADE YOU THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA? OLIVER ERIC DICKINSON!” His voice boomed painfully against my ears, “GETTING MARRIED? YOU’RE STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL, YOU KNOW! YOUR MOTHER AND I WAITED UNTIL AFTER COLLEGE! DIDN’T WE? WE DID THE RESPECTABLE THING! WE DIDN’T RUSH INTO ANYTHING! BUT NOT YOU!” He pointed a shaking finger at his son, “YOU AND YOUR MADCAP IDEAS! YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN SO BLOODY IMPULSIVE! RUNNING INTO THE STREEET AND PETTING STRANGE DOGS FROM THE TIME YOU WERE OLD ENOUGH TO WADDLE! ALWAYS JUMPING INTO THE DEEP END OF THE POOL WITHOUT A FLOATSUIT! YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN SO…SO…SO…” He seemed to be losing track of his thoughts. He paused with heaving breath and I swear he went burgundy before he shouted again, “RECKLESS! WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING? YOU’RE ONLY SEVENTEEN--”
He took a step forward and literally punched Oliver in the side of the head. His fist against the bone sounded like a thump on a coconut. I recoiled on to the couch and drew my legs up, trying to push myself away as he did it again. And again. And one more time.
“Ow! Fuck! Dad! Ow! Stop it!” Oliver, taken completely by surprise, did his best to defend himself with his arms and elbows.
“Dad!” Alex sort of shouted at the exact moment Ana cried, “Eddie! Stop!”
“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” He bellowed. “I THOUGHT YOU HAD A BRAIN IN THAT SKULL OF YOURS!”
POP! POP!
“Eddie! Stop!”
“Dad! That's enough!”
“OW! DAD! DAMN! OW!”
“NOTHING BUT DIRT IN THERE! YOU IDIOT! YOU IMBICILE! YOU--”
Edmond stopped suddenly, a realization spreading across his heavy face. His great brown eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open as stupidly as his wife’s had a moment before. This time his skin went white. “You’ve really gone and done it now, haven’t you?” He asked quietly and then thumped himself on the head instead, “I should have known! All the time you spend together! And you swore to me you two hadn’t yet! Not in any rush, yeah? Oh! I would have expected this out of Alexander, but not you, Oliver! What fools we are! Ana, she’s got a muffin baking!”
“A muffin!” Cried my father, “House sitting she tells me and all the while she’s got a muffin!”
“What are you talking about?” Oliver sounded honestly confused, rubbing the knots out of his head, but Ana and Alexander obviously had gotten Edmond’s meaning because Ana screamed out loud in horror and Alex burst into a loud hoot which he swallowed as he covered his mouth with his hand and spun in a circle.
I sat there and cried.