He seemed surprised. She was questioning his sincerity. ‘Once something gets into my head and I say it, my mind’s made up.’ Two people suited for each other would sound foolish uttering romantic words, but he must have read her thoughts when he went on: ‘I fell in love with all I didn’t know about you, as well as with what I plainly saw. I can’t say fairer than that. I can guarantee though that the rest will take care of itself. I might not be much of a catch, but I’ll look after you, you can be sure.’
Sidney had never spoken such heartfelt and reassuring words, and it suddenly struck her that you always had to wonder what someone was hiding when they accused you of never talking. Sailor’s warm hand came onto her wrist, and she met the full blue of his candid eyes as if for the first time. ‘I do love you, Sailor.’
‘Well, I hoped to hear that, and I can’t tell you how happy it makes me. Another thing though is that there’s more than one way of answering my question, so take your time over it. When we’ve had another drink we can go to my place for a cup of coffee. Then I’ll escort you home.’
She let on about her plans with Sailor while talking to Edna by the front gate.
‘Sounds all right,’ Edna said, ‘but you’ve got to be careful, duck. If he is a sailor he might have women all over the place.’
‘How can anybody know about anybody?’ Ann wondered, convinced she knew all she wanted to know of him.
‘I’ve seen him a few times at the school,’ Edna went on, ‘and he looks a nice enough chap.’ You couldn’t put anybody off what they were dead set on doing, and who was she in any case to prophesy how things would work out? All you could say was good luck to people, and let them get on with it.
On signing the book Ann saw that Sailor’s first name was Paul, which was so far out of kilter with how she regarded him that Sailor it would be forever. Bill and Edna, with Teddy, had come into town as witnesses, and Teddy cried because they hadn’t brought Midnight, tears slopping onto his best suit, till Sailor picked him up and promised he would see the lucky cat soon enough.
A few packs of confetti were scattered over the couple as they came out of the registry office, a photographer semaphoring from behind his tripod. Ann in her smart costume smiled arm in arm with Sailor, thinking everything was good today, though she wanted it to be over since the best was yet to come.
As if just back from six months at sea, Sailor took her in his arms for their first public kiss. He stared into the lens towards an oblivion he alone could see, facing his chemical reproduction in a dark three-piece suit, and tie whose small knot showed off the impeccably ironed shirt. Getting spliced, said his stance, was a serious matter, and it wouldn’t do to lose your soul over it by not looking tiptop.
Frank Orston came with a walnut-cased wall clock as a present from the school, and they listened to its chimes in the living room to a round of double whiskies. Sailor leaned against the mantelpiece, his glass at arm’s length towards Ann. ‘Here’s to the deed that’s going to last all my life. And to commemorate the occasion in proper style I’ll take the lid off the champagne.’
He aimed the cork at the ceiling like a master gunner, all eyes upturned to the as yet invisible mark he might leave there. The explosion sent Teddy running for cover behind the settee.
After the bubbly it was wine, or whatever choice of liquor from bottles ranged along the sideboard. Bill, a lean long-jawed man with coal black hair, forked up ham and salad. ‘A penny bun costs tuppence now — or so my father used to say.’ He held back a ribald addition because he wasn’t sure how Sailor would take it.
Ann and Edna sat on the settee, a bottle of Cyprus sherry on the small round table between them. Midnight leapt onto the television, and Ann was glad Sailor stroked him into a purr. She lost count how many times he asked if she was all right, loved him for wanting to make her happy, and knew their marriage was forever. The romantic uncertainty of the night to come made her feel as she had when leaving the office in her teens to meet a boyfriend for a stroll beyond the bus terminal, ending by all but going the whole way in the darkest part of the wood.
Tired of playing with Midnight, Teddy clamoured for whisky, and Sailor let a couple of canary drops into a glass of water. ‘This’ll make you drunk in no time,’ which sent him tottering around the room and slurring his words.
Mrs Grant straightened him up when he fell. ‘You are a silly lad.’
‘Life’s not worth living,’ Sailor said, ‘unless you treat it as one long holiday, whether or not you have to work. So now we’ll cut the cake.’
With so much food and drink the party went on till after dusk, Teddy asleep on his father’s shoulder when Edna said it was time to leave. After they had gone every plate and cup in the house needed washing, and Sailor filled the sink with suddy water to get them clean. Ann’s energy came back in putting the food away, the fridge packed with dishes covered in Cellophane.
Sailor kissed her as she went by, looking at the clock so that he could, she thought, decently surmise the hour for going to bed. ‘I suppose there are certain things I should tell you now that we’re married, my love.’
Matched with what she ought to say would cancel both sides out, though she was pleased by his offer. No ripple should pass through their perfect day. ‘It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now except us, Sailor.’ She kissed his worried face till the boyish smile came back, and when he led her upstairs the flush of eagerness was on both their faces. Drifting to sleep against his naked back, she knew him to be a man who could make a woman happy.
Ann offered to read the map but Sailor said he had given it a good looking over before she got out of bed. ‘All I do is set course southwest and keep my hands at the tiller. Towns are like islands, and I’ll stay clear of them when I can. It’s the same as going across the ocean to me.’
In the afternoon he steered his black Austin Countryman up the gravel drive of The Tummler Hotel, and a naval-looking man with a thick beard took their cases in. After approving the room with its four-poster bed they came down to a set tea in the lounge. A solid black-boxed body of a dog, with a jutting black box of a mouth, waddled lamely from under the next table for a piece of Sailor’s scone. ‘It’s funny getting a whiff of the sea again. Did you smell it, when I opened the window upstairs?’
‘Let’s go for a walk when we’ve finished. You can have a paddle if you like!’
‘No fear. I swam in it once, and not for fun.’ She was glad he was fuelling himself against the memory, eating to live. ‘We’ll take a look at it, though.’
Pale stones clashed underfoot. ‘I wouldn’t like to walk ten miles on this.’
She kissed his cheek. ‘Nor me.’
Cold gusts struck when they descended the hogsback from which to view the water. She watched the subtle guidance of wings on gulls riding the thermals. Sailor didn’t like the muffler-ring around the white button of the sun. ‘Stand behind me, love, if the wind starts chilling you.’
An isolated white cloud on the horizon rose like an iceberg out of the nondescript. ‘I shan’t see anything, then.’
‘Let’s walk down the bank. It’ll shield us both.’ He took her hand, finding dry patches along the muddy path. Stopping by a gate, they looked inland up a hillside of sheep. He breathed heavily, as if the walk had worn him out. Or maybe the sight of the sea had put on a year or two. She took his arm. ‘You’re tired, sweetheart, after driving all that way.’
A white-topped wave, neat as a quarter mile straight-edge, crumbled on cue at a line of pale cliffs, making way for another behind. She was surprised to see what little distance they were from the hotel, smoke at the cold end of September coiling out of its chimney. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said.