The Choice

Meeting Jamie’s family had been such an exciting prospect. The cherry on top of their whirlwind romance. The icing had been the wedding in Fiji. Her arm was bruised from all the pinching she’d inflicted upon it. Yes, this was all really happening. Jamie had happened. She was Mrs Belafonte. Even the name was fantastical. She’d been elevated from Katy Smith to Catherine Belafonte. Jamie had suggested that she use her full forename as it suited her far better. She had to admit that he was right. It also flowed into her new, marital surname.

She’d practiced her signature until her hand ached. Jamie walked in on her and gave her a strange look when he saw what she was about. There was sadness in his look, perhaps even pity. It had not lingered, but she saw it there and it stuck in her mind. A persistent itch that she dared not scratch. Forming the words to ask him about it was a work in progress that would never be completed. An invisible obstacle lurked in that direction and she was too scared to shine a light upon it. It smelt of the childhood monsters that dwelt in her bedroom as her parents yelled at one another. The monsters who drew near as she tried to blot out the trauma of seeing her mother drunk again. This was a fear of loss, she knew. She dared not burst the bubble of love that was currently insulating her from the reality of a broken life.

Jamie was a dream boat. If Katy had constructed her perfect man in sight of her mind’s eye, her imagination would have fallen short of Jamie. He was her Ken doll. He was everything she could want even before she defined her wants. She was in awe of him. Again, she did not ask questions. To question a love like this would be to stain it. She was no Doubting Thomas. Not anymore. She’d reinvented herself and Jamie was the result of her efforts. She’d chosen to go differently. Found another path in order to experience a life that suited her far better. Cast aside the drudgery of false expectations. At last let go of a childhood that had never been fit for purpose.

And here she was. Where she belonged. Her hand held by a strong, handsome and ambitious man. She would be the power behind her king’s throne. Devote her life to their success. She smiled constantly as she saw her dreams taking shape. Often she considered their children. Beautiful and bright, they would conquer this world in their own unique ways. Four of them. Two girls and two boys. The girls would come first so they could help their mother look after the baby boys. Shape them into fine and upstanding men. Police and vet their girlfriends so they never had to suffer the indignity of a broken heart.

Katy was still dreaming as she was greeted by Jamie’s family. Her dreams helped her deal with the threat of being overwhelmed as they drove for what felt like miles down the drive to an imposing gothic mansion. Gargoyles poking their tongue out at her. The interior exactly as was promised by the face of a building that rose out of the land and claimed it all. Wood panelling. Libraries. Staff. Jamie had not warned her or prepared her for such riches. But her dreams readily expanded into this space. The success of her marriage and the children she would provide Jamie was assured.

Jamie’s family were formal, even in their informal attire. Hands were shaken. Nods were curt. After the introductions, Jamie had whisked up the broad sweeping stairs and to their bedroom. She counted the doors along the landing in order not to become lost or disoriented. Found herself thinking there should be brass numbers on the doors. Looked for the key card readers. Caught herself in the act of repurposing the place into an opulent, boutique hotel. Reclaimed it as her new home. Refocused on Jamie as he closed the door with a flick of his foot. Owned him with an embrace and kisses that foreshadowed her passion. Marking the territory as her own.

She dressed for dinner and found she was excited. Tried not to think about her former, anxiety prone self. Once again, she willed her past to be lost to her. That was another time. The person she was, was a stranger to her now. If she could, she’d burn that version of her on a funeral pyre. She’d made do with burying her. Smothering her until she could no longer hear the whining and wheedling of anxiety that had crushed the very life out of her.

Descending the stairs, she felt like a princess. Everything felt so right. This was her moment. She’d dared to dream and this was her dream coming true. She would come to realise that this was the highpoint of the evening. The problem with reaching those rarefied heights was that the only way was down.

The surroundings for dinner were exquisite. Katy felt a part of a living history. And the food did not disappoint. Thankfully, she could identify most of the ingredients. Their quality went far beyond anything she had eaten. The fly in the mythical soup was the company. There was a chill to the room and it was not due to a lack of heating. The conversation was stilted and Katy noted the occasional looks and glances she was receiving. The air was pregnant with a painful anticipation. Something needed to be said. Words that Katy already did not care for. Words that would wound and had the potential to fracture her bliss.

The drink flowed. Consumed with a nervous energy by some, but not Katy. She sipped at the fine wine, wanting to keep a clear head. Ready herself for whatever it was that was building in the room. As the plates from the main course were removed from the table, comments were made. Small talk. An underlying question being worried away at.

Did she know?

Chandler, Jamie’s younger brother said something tantalisingly out of earshot.

“What was that?” she asked.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” he asked the room, as though Katy could not understand him.

“Doesn’t know what?” she asked.

The room fell still. All eyes on her, but most of all she felt the gaze of Jamie’s mother boring into her. The real power lay there. Not with her seemingly self-assured husband. Something within him seemed to recede. This imbalance unnerved Katy. The energy around the table was all wrong. There was a lack to it. A naked hunger.

“As you’ll appreciate, we’re what you would call a traditional family,” explained Jamie’s mother, “comes with the territory. We came from nothing, as did many people who settled here. The trick is to hold on to what you’ve got. The next generation can squander everything that it took several generations to accumulate.”

Katy was nodding. Affirming the older woman’s words. Making a show of listening respectfully.

“Like all families, we have certain traditions and rituals. Some would say we are superstitious. I would say we are merely careful.”

As the woman spoke, Katy became more and more uncomfortable. This was not the family welcome she had anticipated. She felt ostracised. More of an outsider than she would have been in any other capacity. Suddenly, she was a child again. Jamie’s mother taking on the role of strict headmistress. Katy always felt guilty when confronted by her elders and betters.

“I signed the pre-nup,” she blurted the words and they shamed her as they hung over the table. A neon sign of her difference. A barrier to acceptance.

“I know,” said the woman. The simplicity of her response was brutal somehow, “we have other requirements, and It seems that my son has been lax in appraising you of them.”

“Mother…” Jamie came late to the war. Only joining it as he was named. Katy recalled a similar thing happening in the Great War. A world war that one part of the world sat back and observed for three long and cruel years. History was fascinating. Just as long as you weren’t on the losing or wronged side.

A look was exchanged between mother and son. And as though on cue, the waiting staff brought dessert. Their entrance broke the spell. The cold atmosphere dissipated and small talk resumed. But Katy could not settle. She watched the interactions and saw them to be mechanical. A well-oiled machine rising and falling rhythmically. It’s purpose escaped Katy. She sat in a state of confusion and unease. Toying with her dessert and wanting to be anywhere other than here. Asking herself why she had not met Jamie’s family until now. Wondering whether she was too late and if that was the case, too late for what exactly.

The end of dinner could not come soon enough. When it was suggested that the men withdraw to the adjoining room for cigars and port Katy packed Jamie off and duly made her excuses and headed to bed, feigning fatigue after an eventful few weeks of honeymooning and travel.

She closed the bedroom door and leant against it. Tempted to turn the key in the lock for good measure. There was something badly wrong here. Only now did she realise that she was shaking. The revelation of this made her feel ever so small and she reacted against this. Gritting her teeth, launching herself from the door and pacing.

Katy was still pacing when Jamie entered the room. She needed the movement to centre her. She would not freeze. There was no way she was going to shrink from whatever was at play here. As for running, she didn’t have anywhere to go to. She was all in. This was her. So, all she could do was stand. And fight.

“What the fuck, Jamie!” she blasted at him.

His reaction was awkward and that threw her. Almost stalled her. She had intended to launch herself at him. Create a solution to the conundrum she’d been presented with. He gave her precious little to work with.

“What the actual fuck?” this was quieter. Almost acquiescent. He sighed in an alarming resignation.

“There’s a prophesy,” he told her.

That was all she needed to know. Those words were all she needed to hear.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” A statement. Not a question.

He dropped his head, “I’m sorry.”

She stared at the top of his head, saw for the first time that there were the initial signs of it balding. The man she’d made of him was flawed after all.

“Fuck!”

“I still love you though,” he said this as he raised his head and she softened. Something changed in that moment and she embraced him. She reverted to the dream they had both shared. Time stuttered and moved sideways. They fell to the bed and remembered the times they’d shared. Nothing else mattered. Losing themselves in the moment. In the aftermath Katy almost drifted off to sleep.

“Tell me about the prophesy,” she whispered the words into Jamie’s ear. The sibilance of them aroused him until he felt the tip of a blade against his throat.

“What the hell!” he hissed.

“Welcome to my world,” she countered.

“There’s no need…” he gasped.

“And there’s every need,” she retorted, pressing the blade more firmly against his neck.

He carefully nodded his capitulation, knowing there was no other way. “OK,” he sighed, “I’ll tell you.”

She waited. There was nothing else to do.

“The prophesy is simple. The first wife of the first born son has to die in order for the Belafonte lineage to prosper.”

He provided the explanation with a sigh of resignation and it remained there between them. Yet another obstacle to Katy’s happiness.

“Are you kidding?” Katy asked, “is that it?”

Jamie nodded very carefully. Avoiding the blade pressed firmly against his flesh.

Katy fell backwards on the bed and laughed. There was nothing else. She lost herself in the moment. Found only the ridiculous. Bucked and writhed in an inexplicable release.

“Is that really it?” she repeated, “you idiot!”

She drifted into sleep as she let go of the absurdity of the evening. Had nothing left as she expelled her last breath. Exhaustion overcame her.

Her slumber was temporary. Respite from an absurd madness that had assailed her as she entered this strange stately home. She awoke to Jamie looming over her. Knife in hand. Still half asleep, she had the presence of mind to squirm underneath him and this instinctive movement saved her. The knife plunged into her shoulder and she grinned at her newly wed husband. Opened her mouth into an even wider grin and mocked him.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she whispered to him.

His face creased in confusion, and in that moment, she knew she had him. Her grin widened even further. Teeth painted with blood, “you fool! We’re not officially married! The prophecy can’t be fulfilled…”

His face crumpled entirely now. His understanding leagues away from where it needed to be. She reached under the pillow beneath her and found the paperknife she’d secreted there. Her hand rising up. Blade plunging into his temple. He crumpled above her. Everything changed in that moment. Prophesies could always be interpreted in other ways. There were alternative fulfilments. Just the same as the best laid plans could never be executed in a world made slippery with blood, sweat and excrement.

Or was that Katy’s wishful thinking?

Katy had provided a different ending. And with every ending there was a new beginning. She looked at the bedroom door and hoped she at least had a way forward. She was family now. They’d see that. She’d done what needed to be done. Proved her worth. Something within her slipped into a cold calm and she imagined herself back at the dinner table. This time she sat at the head of that table and looked upon a new comer. A potential usurper who would not last long.

Not unless she read the room and understood how she could play their game better than them. Not unless she saw the choices presented to her and made the only one that would see her thrive in this nest of toothless vipers. She picked up Jamie’s knife, checked herself in the mirror and made for the stairs and her entrance into her new life. A life that she’d waited far too long for. Nothing and no one was going to stop here. Not now. Not ever.