'If you hadn't been pregnant with me you never would've married Dad, would you?'

'Probably not,' said Jennifer, raising her head and looking directly into Lucy's furious face. 'Look,' she said with a heavy sigh, her breath puffing out like smoke. 'The reason I'm telling you this now, Lucy, is that I think you're in danger of making the same mistake. I think you and Oren are in danger of marrying for the wrong reasons.'

Lucy pursed her lips and blinked. 'You don't know anything about us. And we both know that biblical principles are the soundest basis for marriage.'

m.u.f.fin whined and Jennifer said sadly, 'Principles don't hold a marriage together when there's no love present.' When Lucy made no response Jennifer went on, tentatively, 'Are you certain Oren loves you, Lucy?'

'Of course he does,' said Lucy irritably. She gave m.u.f.fin's lead a little tug and he got to his feet. She headed off in the direction of the car, parked on the Old Glenarm Road.

'For the right reasons?' called Jennifer after her.

Lucy twirled around, and waited for Jennifer to catch up. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Does he love you because he thinks you'll make him a good and dutiful Christian wife?'

Lucy nodded, walking slowly again. 'Yes, of course.'

'Or because he worships the ground you walk on? Can he live without you? Does he think you're the most beautiful creature he's ever set eyes on?'

Lucy kicked at a frosted stone on the path with the toe of her boot and said crossly, 'No one's ever thought that of me. Even in the most favourable light, I could never be called a beauty, now could I?'

A cold chill ran down Jennifer's spine and she stopped walking. She touched Lucy on the arm, bringing the girl to a halt too, and said gently, 'That's simply not true, Lucy. You are striking. Hasn't Oren told you that?'

Lucy blushed and squinted into the distance, as if searching for something on the horizon, her wind-scorched, rose pink cheeks in stark contrast to her pale skin. 'Oren thinks,' she said thoughtfully, continuing to gaze at the view, 'that it's much more important that two people are compatible in their beliefs, values and morals. That's the sound basis for a happy marriage. Not romantic love.'

'Well, yes, they are good principles on which to build a marriage,' said Jennifer, looking up into Lucy's face, which had become resolute once more. 'But every marriage runs into difficulties at some point, and without pa.s.sion at the outset, without undying love to glue it together, principles on their own aren't enough.'

'You're wrong. A Christian marriage, grounded in faith and a shared love of G.o.d, is the perfect breeding ground for compatibility.' Lucy turned her gaze on Jennifer and stared at her for a long time, her eyes filming with tears, and then she seemed to decide something. She cleared her throat. 'Before I met Oren, I hated myself.'

'Oh, Lucy,' said Jennifer, the words of self-loathing ripping her apart. 'Please don't say that.'

'It's true. I was living a lie,' said Lucy, lifting her chin.

'What do you mean?'

'Trying to be something I wasn't. I hate my course and I can barely manage to keep up. I only went to university to please you and Dad. I have no friends there, apart from Amy. I'm only finishing this year to please you and Dad and because Oren seems to think it a good idea. Personally, I couldn't care less if I never go back.' She paused to allow a sh.e.l.l-shocked Jennifer to take this all in. 'Before I met Oren I sat in my room alone every night. I was addicted to online gambling.'

'What?' said Jennifer, reeling from this litany of heart-wrenching revelations. How could she not have noticed that her daughter was so isolated and so unhappy?

'Yes, that's why I was always short of money.'

'But why didn't you tell me?' said Jennifer, hurt by Lucy's failure to confide and stunned by the guilty realisation that she had failed her. Lucy hadn't felt able to confide in her or David.

'I knew you wouldn't listen. I did try to tell you that I didn't want to go to university but you and Dad didn't want to know.'

It was true. Lucy had not been keen, but she and David had put that down to nerves. They'd both thought that Lucy, shy and introverted, would benefit from the university environment.

'I'm sorry, Lucy. I'd no idea about any of this,' said Jennifer humbly, leading the way past the old bandstand, bright blue paint peeling from the railings. 'Have you told your Dad?'

Lucy shook her head. 'No. Matt neither. But it doesn't matter now. It's all in the past. I met Oren and my life changed. I let the Lord Jesus Christ into my life and I'll be forever grateful to Oren for that. I owe him so much.'

'And that's why you're going to follow him to Peru? Because you feel you owe him?' said Jennifer carefully, taking a sideways sneak at Lucy. She looked so serious, her brow creased up in a frown like a rumpled sheet.

'No, I'm going because I love him. And because I want to serve G.o.d.'

They came out of the park, and turned right up Old Glenarm Road. The car was only fifty yards away. Jennifer took a deep breath. 'Well, maybe taking a year out to do something completely different isn't a bad idea, Lucy. It'll give you a chance to work out what you want to do with your life once you've finished your degree.'

Lucy blinked. 'But I already know what I want to do with the rest of my life,' she said stubbornly. 'I want to spend it with Oren in the service of the Lord.'

'Maybe you could look at something a little less adventurous than Peru,' Jennifer pressed on, determined to make her point, to make Lucy listen. 'I'm sure there are plenty of inner city missions crying out for help in this country.'

'But I don't want to work in an inner city mission!'

Jennifer stepped into the gutter to let an elderly woman trailing a shopping bag on wheels pa.s.s. 'And there really isn't any need for the two of you to marry straight away,' she said, mounting the kerb again. 'Not in this day and age. I'd be perfectly happy if you lived together for a bit, you know,' she said reasonably.

Lucy stared at her in astonishment. 'Oren and I would never live in sin.'

They reached the car. 'Please, Lucy,' said Jennifer, slipping the glove off her hand and groping for the car key in her pocket. 'Will you just give what I'm saying some consideration?'

Lucy said coldly, 'Can you open the car please, Mum? m.u.f.fin's getting cold.'

Jennifer found the key fob and pressed a b.u.t.ton, unlocking the car. 'All I'm saying, Lucy, is finish your degree and if Oren wants to go to Peru, let him. If he loves you, he'll wait for you.'

Lucy opened the back door of the car and m.u.f.fin, exhausted by the walk, hauled himself into the car and curled up immediately in the foot well of the pa.s.senger seat. 'I'm going to marry Oren Wilson,' said Lucy, 'whether you like it or not, and I'm going to Peru. And nothing you say or do will stop me.'

Chapter 17.

Jennifer sat stiffly at the large round table in the Great Hall at Galgorm House on an ivory damask covered chair. A plum-coloured sash was tied around the back of it like a ma.s.sive c.u.mmerbund and matching ribbon adorned the little nets of silvered sugared almonds that decorated each place setting. A four-foot candelabra, sprouting five ivory candles amid a nest of winter berries and foliage, sat in the middle of the table, partially obscuring her view of the top table where the best man was currently delivering his speech. Ben, gorgeous in a dark navy suit, sky blue shirt and striped tie sat beside her, his left arm thrown casually over the back of her chair and a happy smile on his face.

No detail had been overlooked. Everything about the venue was stunning: the vista of lawn studded with trees, rather like an upmarket golf course; the string quartet that had greeted them on arrival; the beautiful table set in fine linen and silverware. And the five-course meal of salmon, soup, Irish lamb, cheese and pudding had been divine. But Jennifer had struggled to enjoy it.

For one thing, the wedding was not the huge event she'd antic.i.p.ated at which she'd imagined she could blend in with the crowd but a much more intimate affair. She couldn't help but feel that everyone was staring at her and Ben. Diane and Alan were seated at separate tables, yet, in spite of the relatively small size of the party, neither had yet exchanged a word with her. Every time she glanced in the direction of either of them outside the church; in the reception area where they'd had tea and munched on shortbread while the bridal party had their photographs taken; as they took their seats in the Great Hall they were engaged in lively conversation with people she didn't know.

When the speech was over Jennifer leaned across, the front of her navy pillbox hat partially obscuring her vision, and whispered to Ben, 'I don't know anyone here apart from your parents. Are you sure Hannah doesn't mind you bringing me? I mean, this must be costing her family an arm and a leg.'

'Of course not. It's the perfect opportunity for you to meet my family. And maybe next year we can spend Christmas Day together.' He patted her rea.s.suringly on the knee and glanced at her wrist. 'The bracelet looks great on you. I knew it would.'

He'd given her the jewellery a Bulgari eighteen-carat white gold band, embedded with pave diamonds for Christmas. The bracelet made her present of copies of her favourite all-time books, tied up in a thick red ribbon, seem mean in comparison. Even though Ben had appeared thrilled, and insisted that he'd never had such a personal, thoughtful gift, she was inclined to think he was just being polite. But as Donna had pointed out, both the wedding invite and the bracelet were signs that Ben was serious about her. And that was what she wanted, wasn't it? Somewhat rea.s.sured by this thought, Jennifer smiled bravely and looked around the table. They'd been seated with an a.s.sortment of Ben's cousins and their partners and some friends of the bride. Ben knew them all well and they'd made a real effort to include her in the conversation. But Jennifer felt desperately out of place; not one of them had reached their thirtieth birthday.

The girl sitting beside her, in a flowery dress that barely covered her thighs and ballet pumps, looked like she'd just left her teens behind. The other women wore unstructured low-cut dresses with incredibly short hemlines, and plunging cleavages. Apart from her navy pillbox one, not a hat was to be seen at this table just little feathery fascinators sprouting from the side and tops of heads like expired exotic birds. Jennifer had struggled to find an outfit amongst the sparkly, sequinned party dresses in the shops and had been forced, through lack of choice, to settle for a fitted dress with a sweetheart neckline and long sleeves. She liked the flattering ruching across the stomach area, the just-below-the-knee hemline, and the way it made her chest look bigger and more pert than it was. She wasn't so sure about the colour but Donna a.s.sured her that pillar-box red was perfect for a winter wedding. As a nod to current trends, the saleswoman in the shop had persuaded her to go for a pair of nude high heels worn with the sheerest skin-tone tights.

Jennifer looked at the bride sitting at the top table, radiant in a ma.s.s of white netting, and bit her lip. 'That could be Lucy sitting at the top table in a few months. If I can't persuade her otherwise.'

Ben's brow furrowed and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'I shouldn't have told you about Oren's schooldays.'

'No,' she said hastily, 'I'm glad you did. It only confirmed what I already thought. I think Oren's latched on to Lucy because she's impressionable. Let's face it, there aren't many women who'd be prepared to chuck in university to follow their man around the world while he evangelises pagans.'

Ben's raised his eyebrows. 'You mean you wouldn't do that for me?'

Jennifer grinned, a little of the tension seeping away, and said grudgingly, 'I suppose there's a certain charisma about him.' She paused. 'Donna says I should go out of my way to befriend him so that, if Lucy marries him, I don't end up estranged from her.'

'Mmm,' said Ben. 'I can see the logic. Why don't you ask the two of them down for a few days? No Matt or Brian or any of the rest of the family. Spend some time together and try to build some bridges.'

'Yeah,' said Jennifer thoughtfully. 'That's a good idea.'

'Oh, there's Auntie Liz,' said Ben, a warm smile spread across his face.

Jennifer watched the well-built woman approach with mounting horror. She was in her late sixties and wore tan tights and sensible black court shoes with a low heel. Her black straw boater hat had a cl.u.s.ter of net and pearls on one side and looked very similar to the type of hat regularly sported by the Queen.

Jennifer had noticed the woman earlier, in the foyer, where everyone had peeled off their coats. She'd turned away quickly and hoped she could manage to avoid her for the rest of the day. For they were wearing exactly the same, bright red dress.

Under normal circ.u.mstances, Jennifer would've laughed about the coincidence and even approached the wearer to comment light-heartedly upon it, perhaps taking comfort in the fact that she looked somewhat better in the dress. But today it served only to highlight how big the age gap was between her and the people around the table. None of the young women here today would've chosen such a modest, fitted style. Far from being chic and cla.s.sy as she'd believed, it was the sort of dress a granny would wear to hide her rounded belly, bingo arms and saggy knees.

Auntie Liz made her way round the table until she came to Ben. She clasped his head in her hands and planted a big, noisy kiss on both cheeks, Italian-style. 'How's my favourite nephew?' she said, grinning. Her face was heavily lined and the leathery skin on her neck and chest spoke of too many holidays abroad in the sun.

'I want you to meet my girlfriend, Jennifer,' said Ben and Jennifer felt herself flush with embarra.s.sment as Auntie Liz sized her up.

'Oh, I see we're wearing the same dress, dear,' she said straight away. She leaned in and gave Jennifer a friendly squeeze on the arm, and chuckled, 'Though I have to say it looks a d.a.m.n sight better on you than it does on me!'

Jennifer smiled weakly, grateful for her kindness. Aunty Liz moved away, and Ben went off to the gents, leaving her alone at the table. The people on either side of her had disappeared.

'Well, this is a surprise, Jennifer,' said a woman's voice and Jennifer turned around to find Ben's mother standing behind her holding a gla.s.s of champagne in her hand and looking utterly beautiful. She wore a long, elegant, pale blue coat dress, the sleeves encrusted with embroidery and baby blue, pearlised beads. On her head she sported an enormous ivory wide-brimmed hat. Of course, she had the looks and the height to carry off such a stunning piece of headgear.

She slipped into the seat just vacated by Ben and crossed her long, slim legs. 'Well, we were all dying to find out the secret of Ben's mystery guest.' She turned her cold, green-eyed gaze on Jennifer, as clear and unblinking as a cat. 'And imagine our surprise when it turned out to be you.' She smiled and then said abruptly, 'How's business these days?'

'Excuse me?'

'Oh, it's just that I was thinking interior design must be a bit like the restaurant trade. A mad rush in the run-up to the festive season and then dead. n.o.body wants to spend money come January.' Diane clinked the rim of her champagne gla.s.s with the hardened tips of perfectly French-manicured nails.

'Well, not really,' said Jennifer, with an awful sinking feeling in her stomach. 'I get Christmas and the New Year off.' Why was Diane asking her about business? Why weren't they admiring the bride's elegant ivory gown? Or pa.s.sing judgement perhaps on the guests' outfits?

'Of course,' said Diane, as if she hadn't heard Jennifer. 'In Ben's case, what he earns is more or less irrelevant.' She paused to smile and wave at the father of the groom, in tails, on the other side of the room. As soon as he broke eye contact, the smile fell from her face. 'It's what he's set to inherit that will make him a rich man.'

Jennifer stared at Diane in astonishment, the penny finally dropping. Diane thought she was after Ben's money! She hadn't come to talk out of friendship, or even politeness, after all. She'd come to deliver a message. The muscles in Jennifer's left jaw twitched and she pressed her teeth together until they hurt, the hot, hard lump in her throat making it impossible for her to speak.

Diane blinked, then opened her eyes wide in a startled expression. 'Oh,' she said dramatically, a flattened hand hovering over her heart, being careful not to actually touch the dress lest she mark it. 'Of course, I didn't mean to suggest that you were after the Crawford fortune,' she said earnestly. 'Like me, you're used to being independent and supporting yourself. But doing it for yourself can be a lonely existence. I've got to hand it to you, Jennifer,' she said, her voice full of anything but admiration. 'What better way to dispel the loneliness than a short-term fling with a younger man? And why not? I might even try it myself.' She laughed out loud at this notion.

Jennifer looked desperately around the rapidly emptying room as everyone made their way slowly to the bar or up to their rooms to rest before the evening entertainment. She squirmed in her seat, damp sweat forming under her arms, anxious to escape Diane and her offensive insinuations. Where the h.e.l.l was Ben?

'Isn't this a lovely venue?' said Diane, suddenly changing direction like a speedboat, leaving Jennifer confused and disorientated in her wake. 'Though, of course, when Ben gets married he'll have a much bigger wedding. Alan will insist on it. After all he is our only son. Oh, I do hope he meets the right girl soon.'

'Oh, h.e.l.lo darling,' cried Diane in an affected voice and Jennifer looked up to find Alan standing there. He gave her a curt nod and Diane stood up. 'I know Alan's dying to talk to you, Jennifer,' she said, placing a hand like a restraint on Jennifer's shoulder. 'Why don't you two sit down and have a little chat?' Diane removed her hand and Jennifer looked quickly from left to right, trying to conjure up a means of escape. She opened her mouth to excuse herself to go to the ladies', but Diane said, 'I'll go powder my nose,' and Jennifer's escape route was blocked.

Very deliberately Alan pulled Ben's chair around and sat down, so that they weren't sitting beside each other but facing in opposite directions, like a lovers' seat. Bracing herself, Jennifer sat back in her chair and took a deep breath, the smell of expensive aftershave filling her nostrils.

They were both stubbornly silent for a few moments. Eventually, Jennifer peeked at Alan and was astonished to see a single tear fall freely down the man's ruddy cheek. Making no effort to brush it away, he stared straight ahead. He looked as she had never imagined Alan Crawford could: vulnerable, weak, broken. And her heart went out to him.

'Everyone expected Ricky to take over the business one day,' he said, still staring straight ahead, as if talking to thin air. 'I was training him for it. He was hungry for success.' His face lit up with a brief, radiant moment of happiness, then it was gone, like an extinguished candle.

Jennifer looked away, unable to bear the man's grief. 'I'm sure you can imagine what it's like to lose a child.'

'I think so,' she said softly, full of pity for the man, but wondering why on earth he was sharing this highly personal information with her?

Alan sighed, took a white hankie out of his pocket, patted his cheek and put the hankie away. At the entrance to the function room, Jennifer saw Diane accost Ben, who was coming back into the room. She whispered something in his ear, took him by the arm, and dragged him away. Jennifer's heart sank.

'Ben is all I have left,' went on Alan, the softness in his voice slowly giving way to something a little more steely. 'Everything I have will be his one day and then his son's and then his son's after that.' He paused, giving plenty of time for the implications of this statement to sink in. Jennifer's breathing grew shallow and she suddenly felt sick and light-headed.

'So you see, Jennifer,' he said and she knew that he was looking at her, but she could not meet his eye. 'I've nothing against you personally, dear, but you are forty-four years old. You are never going to provide Ben with a son, are you?'

Jennifer shook her head. That part of her life was over. She could not do it again, not even for Ben, who fund-raised endlessly for children and never missed an opportunity to spoil Jason's little daughter. She'd found out through Matt that Ben had bought the child a ma.s.sive rocking horse for Christmas.

'You seem to have some sort of hold over him.'

Finding reserves of strength she did not know she had, Jennifer looked him squarely in the eye. Ignoring the storm raging in her stomach, she said evenly, 'I think they call it love, Alan.'

He looked away and sniffed dismissively. 'In my experience, romantic love is highly overrated.' He shifted in his seat, leaned forward and cradled his hands in one another. 'Ben thinks he's in love and you're having a good time together and, hey, there's nothing wrong with that.' Alan raised his palms in the air to demonstrate his open-minded acceptance of the affair, diamonds winking on the cuffs of his shirt. Jennifer's face burned as he ploughed on, clasping his hands together tightly. 'But you must see that it would be morally wrong to deny a young man like Ben the chance of having a family of his own. Of experiencing the joy of fatherhood. And as for Diane and I, well, he's our only hope of ever having grandchildren, Jennifer. Without an heir, all my life's work will have been for nothing. And Ricky's death will have been in vain.'

Jennifer could not speak. He was wrong on so many levels. He was wrong to load all his expectations onto Ben's shoulders; to hijack his life like that. He was wrong to interfere in her relationship with Ben. And Diane was completely wrong about the money.

And yet he had a point. She'd had her crack at family life, at raising kids. Motherhood had brought her the greatest joy she'd ever known, an enduring satisfaction and happiness that did indeed transcend romantic love. If Ben chose her, he would never experience the joy of holding a child of his own in his arms for the very first time the moment when you were changed forever. Could she deny him this utter sense of fulfilment, of completion? And if she did, the time might come when he would resent her for it.

'The longer your relationship with Ben goes on, the harder it'll be to end. It doesn't have a future, Jennifer.'

'If it's not going to last, then you have nothing to worry about, Alan, do you?' she said icily, rising at last to her feet, the spell of pity finally broken. Alan's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak. But it was Ben's voice that arrested them both.

'Sorry, I got held up, Jennifer,' he said, coming up to the table briskly. 'So many people to talk to and all wanting to know who you were! I must introduce you.'

Jennifer smiled weakly, emotionally drained by the awful truth of what Alan had said. Ben paused, his hands frozen in mid-rub and looked from Jennifer to Alan. 'What have you two been talking about?'

'Just chatting.' Alan leapt to his feet. 'Now, I must go and find Ca.s.sie. You two have a good time.' He placed a hand on Ben's shoulder momentarily proprietorially, Jennifer thought then walked off.

Jennifer looked up at Ben's open, honest face and smiled wearily. Ben loved her, of that she was certain, but had he given their future together any serious consideration? The menopause was already knocking on her door her periods were becoming increasingly erratic in frequency. In a few years' time, her looks would go and she would, eventually, lose the battle with her midriff. When that time came, when she was old and completely barren, would he still love her? No matter how much she loved Ben, Jennifer couldn't see a future for them. She could not give him what he so richly deserved. She ought to let him go.

'What're you thinking, my darling?' he said.

'I was just thinking that you're so very different from both your parents,' said Jennifer, wondering how on earth two devious, manipulative individuals like Alan and Diane had managed to create someone so thoroughly decent.

'Look, I'm really sorry to have to do this, Ben, but I have the most awful headache. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to take me home.'