Pretty Things (The Pretty Trilogy #3) Read online

  ‘But . . . you always wanted to have the big, white wedding. That’s what we wanted for you.’

  I’m about to answer that this is for Kai and me, and that our marriage isn’t likely to happen in a church anyway, for religious reasons. That I expect we’ll make do with something civil when Kai speaks.

  ‘You’ll have a big wedding. I promise you both that. I just can’t promise it’ll be in Australia.’ He turns to my mum. ‘Clearly, we’re at the early stages of wedding plans. And I appreciate this has come as a big shock, but I love your daughter very much. I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy.’ He slides one hand across the table, clasping my mother’s, his other holding mine. ‘I promise you both that.

  ‘Married,’ Mum breathes, retracting her hand and beginning to snivel quietly.

  ‘Please don’t cry,’ Kai says, handing her a napkin before turning and taking both of my hands in his. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, Mrs. Saunders, where is Mr. Saunders?’

  ‘Cynthia,’ she answers quietly, staring at our clasped hands. ‘He was called into work. There was some sort of accident.’

  ‘Then I’ll be sure to see him there.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness. Geoff! What’ll he say?’ Almost stumbling to the kitchen bench, she grabs the tea towel and begins vigorously rubbing the sink. ‘He’ll be so upset, he did so like Shane. How will he face his father at golf?’

  ‘Sod golf and sod Shane’s dad,’ I mumble. ‘And I expect he’ll say that he’ll be glad to see the back of me.’

  ‘That’s not true! He’s loved you like you were his own. You never see it the way it is—he took us both on, gave us both a roof over our heads. Paid for you to go to private school! Always made sure you had the things you needed. It’s not fair of you to—’

  ‘But that’s just it, Mum. It isn’t fair.’ My voice rises in increments once more. ‘It’s not fair that he didn’t get to have his own kids with you, but that’s no reason for him to make me feel inadequate—make me feel like I was never good enough. Sometimes material things just aren’t enough. Sometimes you just want to be listened to!’

  ‘Sweetheart, you’re not helping the situation here.’

  ‘She gave Shane my address!’ I implore, turning now to face Kai. ‘Then she let him into the house!’

  ‘Call it misguided interest.’

  ‘Interference, more like! Treating me like I’m supposed to be a reflection of him! Of Geoff.’

  ‘Katherine, you break my heart. That man took us in when my whole family turned me away. If it wasn’t for him, I dread to think where we’d have gone. Your father—the man responsible for my family’s disgust—he abandoned us!’ Immediately, she covers her mouth with both hands, but it’s too late. Her words are out, harsh words, words of pain and anger, followed by a sob.

  ‘My dad?’

  ‘No,’ she says fiercely. ‘Geoff is your dad. Your father, my girl, couldn’t be seen for dust when I told him I was pregnant.’

  ‘You said my dad—he died. Before I was born.’ My bottom hits the seat of the chair quite heavily as I grasp the table edge, fight seeping out of me.

  ‘That much is true. He did die. Shortly after you were born. A car accident, but before that, he made it very clear he didn’t want us. You or me. He just left.’ Mum lowers herself more gently into her seat, her eyes and hands in her lap. ‘My family turned me out the day I told them. I was a fallen woman, a sinner. Ridiculous, really, in that day and age.’

  ‘But . . . you said your parents were dead.’ I only ever had one set of grandparents: Geoff’s parents, but they were enough.

  ‘They are. Now. But the day I told them I was pregnant, I was dead to them.’

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ Reaching across the table, I take her hand in mine. ‘Why didn’t you ever say?’

  ‘Tell you that I failed you? That we lived in a squalid little flat until you were two years old? That I couldn’t provide?’ Her voice rises as she does, grasping the table as though to hold herself up. ‘Geoff was my saviour.’ She turns her head over her shoulder, and adds shrilly, ‘And yours, my girl!’

  ‘Please, Mum. Let’s not.’ It’s a lot to take in. Secrets hidden, even if the result is still the same.

  ‘I thought Shane would be your rock. All I ever wanted was the best for you. ’

  I take Kai’s hand, look him square in the eyes and answer her while looking at him.

  ‘But I’ve got that, Mum. I’ve found him.’

  ‘I think we’re all a little overwrought. If I can suggest you both leave Mr. Saunders to me. And while I’m sure Shane is a fine man in a lot of respects—’ I snort loudly, Kai sending me a quelling look as a result—‘he is, for good reason, no longer marrying Kate. But I am. And I hope I’ll be welcomed into your family.’

  Mum seems to return to herself in this instant, rousing from the memories, like shedding an old coat. Fresh tea is made and slice plated out. The remainder of our morning tea continues to be strained, but courteous, and that we aren’t shouting at each other is definitely a plus. Of course, it helps that Kai is as charming as the devil. Or like himself. He could charm the knickers off a nun’s nasty, given half a mind.

  I’m returning from packing my bags in my old bedroom, when I hear Mum laughing softly in response to Kai’s murmured words.

  ‘Yes, you’re right, she is a funny thing.’ Gee, thanks guys. Could they not think of any better words—charming? Delightful? Or full of fun, maybe? Mum pauses before sighing. ‘She’s a lovely girl.’ Better. ‘But she’s had a sheltered life. She doesn’t know how tough things can get.’

  ‘She’s much stronger than you think.’

  ‘Is she? I hope so. I blame myself and can never seem to say the right thing.’

  ‘You ought to be proud. Kate is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s smart and funny, fearlessly passionate.’ Pausing in the hallway, I smother a snigger as he quickly adds, ‘Incredibly loyal and moral—’

  ‘Oh, I am proud. She’s beautiful inside and out. I just wished she’d listen to me sometimes, let me help. Let me in. We used to be so close. But lately . . . Her words trail off and I hear a small sob. ‘She wouldn’t even tell me what Shane did. I guessed, of course, but they seemed so good together. Men, well, I’m sorry Kai,’ she says quite primly. I can almost see her hands clasped tightly around her china cup. ‘But men can be childish. I thought maybe this, this thing was something Shane had to get out of his system. And I just wanted her to have someone to take care of her. Shane can do that. He has a good job, is from a good family. I don’t want her to live a life of struggle. You can see that?’

  I step into the doorway as Kai’s hand touches Mum’s wrist. ‘Cynthia, I can give her those things, and more. I give you my word that it will be my life’s work to make her happy.’

  I swallow past the large lump of love and emotion in my throat. I love that man so much. But Mum looks so small and vulnerable and, if I’m honest, a little bit lost. As is often the case, I find myself hating that I just can’t seem to stop myself from lashing out. Or being hurt. I know she loves me, but sometimes it isn’t enough just to know.

  ‘When—how did you meet?’ Her eyes brim with tears as they find Kai’s. ‘Perhaps you can tell me.’

  ‘Hey, I’m not deaf, or daft,’ I say, blundering into the room. ‘I’m pretty sure I can manage to tell you that.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ she asks, looking unconvinced. ‘It only took a slice to make you unhinged.’

  ‘Yes, very funny, Mum.’

  ‘Perhaps next time Kate can fill you in.’

  ‘Next time?’ Mum asks, her smile faltering.

  ‘We’ve some appointments to keep.’

  Strained goodbyes and awkward hugs are made, along with promises to call again in a few days.

  Mum hugs me extra hard at the door, which is a bit of a wonder, as we aren’t really the demonstrative types.

  ‘Married,’ she repeats as she releases me in a state of wonderment. Or shock. It’s
hard to tell.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘You’re very quiet.’

  Kai pulls the Range Rover back onto the highway. He hasn’t spoken a word since we left Mum’s driveway. He looks . . . pensive. It’s disconcerting. ‘Meeting my mum must’ve put you off. You know what they say, every wife turns into the mother-in-law eventually.’

  ‘Your mother is very nice.’

  ‘My mother is a pain in my butt. Come on, what gives?’

  Kai’s hand suddenly snakes over the centre console. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Lots to think about.’ Like I said, disconcerting. ‘I’ve got a couple of places to be this afternoon. Quite important. I was just trying to figure out a schedule.’

  ‘Appointments?’ I repeat, a little unnecessarily. ‘You’ve got work to do while you’re here?’ Immediately, I’m reminded of Shane’s arrival in Dubai, his trying to convince me he travelled all that way for me, when really, he was on his way to a conference. Please don’t let this be the same.

  ‘If only.’ His shoulders move once in some semblance of a laugh. An ironic laugh? ‘Appointments of a personal nature. I’m going to meet with your father—’

  ‘Stepfather,’ I correct.

  ‘The only father you’ve ever known,’ he asserts in a cautionary tone. ‘Your mahram all the same.’

  ‘My m-what-ham?’

  ‘Mahram. Your male guardian. The person I need to speak with regards to marriage.’

  ‘Sort of to ask for my hand?’

  ‘Yes, like that. We might need to find you a wali, too,’ he says, sort of distractedly.

  ‘A wally? I can save you some time. You’re going to meet Geoff. He’s a total wally.’

  ‘Are you saying your stepfather is an idiot?’ God, he looks so serious!

  ‘No,’ I reply, sighing loudly. ‘Not literally. He’s just not very nice. To me. Generally.’

  ‘Then that was a little unkind.’

  My expression twists. ‘Just wait. We’ll see what you think after you’ve met him. Anyway, what’s a wally when it’s at home. To you, I mean.’

  ‘Wali,’ he corrects. The way he says it does sound a little different. Taking back his hand, he slows the car at a set of traffic lights. But, sheesh, potato, potatoe? ‘Is the person who’ll represent you at our wedding ceremony.’

  ‘Am I getting married by proxy?’

  ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Sure, because we haven’t had enough hot beverages this morning. I thought at one point Mum was going to tip the teapot into your crotch.’

  He flinches as he turns right, following signs to the beach.

  ‘But it’s raining.’ Rain and my hair isn’t happening. Not if I can help it. ‘We’ll get drenched.’

  ‘I’ll just grab us a couple for the car.’

  With that, he pulls up alongside a little milk-bar-come-beach-shack place.

  ‘Yes,’ I grumble as he loosens his belt. ‘Because our last beachside conversation went so well.’

  ‘Of course it did,’ he says, his sensual mouth curving into a smile. ‘You agreed to be my wife.’

  It’s muggy inside the car, the heat from our coffees steaming up the windows, not that the effect is spoiling the view or anything. Dark clouds have obscured the sun, making it seem as though daylight has vanished as torrential rain beats against the windows, distorting our view of the ocean and the outside world.

  Kai shivers as he swipes a hand through his hair, ridding it of the remaining droplets of rain. He can’t be comfortable in his damp shirt and I can’t help but wonder why he went to the trouble, though I refrain from asking if he’d like to take it off because, you know, common decency. That and where a topless Kai would lead. Anyway, left up to me, we’d be coffee-less and beginning this conversation somewhere else.

  ‘You know, whatever their faults, it’s clear your parents have done what they thought best for you.’

  ‘In their own, misguided way,’ I mumble in return.

  ‘Pardon?’

  For a moment, the rain beats down furiously on the roof and I have to repeat myself, voice louder against the noise.

  ‘I said misguided.’ I end up almost shouting the last word, repeating it more quietly as the rain and noise drops away. We laugh, each taking a sip of our scalding-hot drinks. ‘Exactly what point are you trying to make?’

  ‘I haven’t exactly got a point. I just thought we might talk—about marriage, being in a place we can’t . . .’

  ‘Get distracted?’ I supply, hiding my smile behind my paper cup, dead-set burning my tongue again.

  ‘Exactly.’ A half smile plays across his mouth, the kind that says so much without his lips actually moving. I know exactly what you’re thinking about. I know what smutty thoughts are playing through your head. But that’s okay, because by the way his eyes flick over me almost acquisitively, they’re obviously playing through his, too. ‘It has been a while.’ His voice is gravelly, lower. Heavy still with those unspoken things.

  ‘Hours, at least.’

  ‘Well?’ My voice comes out all low and husky and I find myself running my finger around the lid of the cup. I so suck at seduction.

  ‘I have to be back in Dubai in a few days.’

  ‘Oh.’ Fuck. Not where I thought this conversation was going.

  ‘And the half term is over around then, too.’

  Shit, so it is.

  ‘To be honest, I hadn’t really considered going back.’

  ‘Kate, I can’t stay in Australia,’ he adds quickly. ‘My job—my life—is in Dubai. I thought yours was going to be—’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. Look, I left to get away from all the . . . well, you know.’ I shrug uncomfortably, neither wanting nor needing to elaborate further as he nods in a gesture of his understanding. ‘And since you arrived, I’ve just sort of been wrapped up in that. Wrapped up in you. I just haven’t thought about going back. At all.’

  ‘But you understand I—we can’t live here. Marrying me means committing to being there. Fuck, I’m asking you to give up your life here, aren’t I?’ He rubs his cheek quite suddenly, the soft stubble rasping against his palm. ‘I hadn’t thought—I only thought about what I wanted, not considering—’

  ‘I want you,’ I answer simply. ‘I’m prepared to be where you are and I understand that means Dubai. And it’s not like I can’t visit home, does it?’

  ‘Home,’ he repeats with a developing frown. ‘It’s suddenly occurring to me how much I’m asking you to give up. I feel like the biggest bastard, especially with what I’m about to say.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘We aren’t going to be able to arrange a wedding ceremony while we’re here.’

  ‘We can come back, can’t we? Or go on holiday and get hitched,’ I add a little more excitedly, suddenly warming to my theme: a different kind of white wedding—me in a gauzy sundress worn loosely over a white bikini, hair braided with tiny flowers to match my frangipani bouquet. Kai in linen pants, his white shirt billowing in the warm, tropical breeze.

  From my tropical paradise, I become aware Kai has spoken. I’m once more slow to catch on. ‘What was that?’

  ‘I said we must be married before we return.’

  ‘But you just heard—Mum said we can’t . . .’

  ‘Think, Kate.’ He looks searchingly into my eyes, his gaze almost willing me to understand.

  ‘Days? Mum said we’d have to wait a month,’ I add seriously, a sudden thought floating free. ‘The authorities here won’t be swayed by a bit of influence. Or cash.’

  ‘What I’m about to say isn’t a perfect solution, but I hope it’s something you’ll consider.’ He inhales deeply, reaching over the centre console and placing my cup in the holder, before taking both my hands. ‘What you saw in the hotel was orchestrated. We can both agree?’ I nod, my stomach twisting nervously at the reminder, anxiously awaiting what he’s trying to say. ‘I don’t know exactly who is responsible, but I’m loathed to admit Faris may well be responsible.’ His hand
s tighten, sympathy flashing across his face before his expression firms again. ‘I need there to be no ambiguity upon our return. I need us to be married, for there to be no further obstacles available. To anyone.’

  ‘Oh.’ Our army of objectors. Perhaps it’s a good job we can’t get married in church. I can almost imagine the minister asking if anyone knows of any just cause blah, blah, blah, and a whole host of people standing up, shouting, causing aggro. Faris, Essam, Sofia. Random girls. I’m sure the list goes on.

  My shoulders sag. I understand, of course I do. But I don’t have to like it. Sounds like a marriage of inconvenience, almost. Inconvenient in as much as we have to do it now, in the next few days. I understood I wasn’t really going to be able to have a church wedding, but now it seems even a civil ceremony is beyond our reach . . . I raise my gaze once more. ‘But how are you going to—’

  ‘We, sweetheart, how are we going to. Manage to get married, that is.’

  ‘Well, yes, but—’

  ‘A Nikah ceremony, officiated at the local mosque. Much quicker to arrange but just as binding,’ he adds quickly. ‘And probably preferable, in light of things.’

  ‘Preferable to who? And what things?’ My voice raises in octaves as I begin to panic, great wings of anxiety beating against my ribs. Is this what it’s going to be like—our lives together—things I can’t comprehend, things I don’t understand? ‘You said we’d have a white wedding, you said to my mum.’ Christ on a bike, she’ll be crushed. ‘What will I say to her, how can I explain—’

  Taking my flailing hands once more in his, his face is grave. ‘I can’t give you a church wedding, but hear me out, please. This part of the wedding is paperwork, mainly, but solemn and sacred. And extremely official. We’ll return to Dubai married, where we’ll then have a wedding the envy of everyone.’

  ‘I don’t want a big wedding, I just want one that means something.’

  ‘I’d pledge you my troth anyway you’d want, sweetheart, because I want you above everything. And I want to make you happy. I also want to protect you. Please consider this. Once we return to Dubai, we’ll send for your parents, family—your neighbour’s cat! We’ll have a huge affair, blessed by a priest—your priest, if we can persuade him to come. Just, please, let’s get married before we leave. Darling, marry me. Here. Now.’