New Year's Resolution

Part Three

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Part Three

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Neither of them mentioned what had passed between them during that phone call, but once she had cooled down, Margaret was clear-sighted enough to acknowledge that perhaps it had not been fair of her to suggest calling it all off this far into the proceedings. She had still not forgiven him for compelling her to go through with it, but he seemed determined not to bring up the subject again, and she was scarcely less keen to avoid it.

She found, somewhat to her surprise, that once the ceremony, reception and endless congratulations were over, she was actually starting to enjoy herself opening all the presents with John.

They were back at his house, taking turns to rip off the wrapping paper, both feeling like kids at Christmas. Perhaps it was terrible to say so, but they both felt a sense of euphoria at actually having gotten away with their rather audacious plan of fooling all their friends and family.

It was Margaret's turn. Ripping off the wrapping paper, she shook her head. 'No luck, it's vase number seven.'

John's turn. 'Vase number eight.'

Margaret's turn. 'Candle set number five.'

John's turn. 'Set of bath crystals number four.'

Margaret gave a short, incredulous laugh as she uncovered vase number nine. 'Don't people have any imagination?'

John's fingers suddenly froze over the present he was unwrapping. 'Some people evidently have too much imagination,' he said, holding up a blue romper suit with tiny matching mittens and beanie. He looked worried. 'Who gave us this?'

Margaret put a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. 'That's Edith's present, for sure.' Hunting around under the colourful pile of wrappings lying everywhere, she unearthed the card. 'Yep. I hope you don't mind, but I told her everything before we came up with our deal.'

John still didn't look completely reassured. 'I hope she can keep a secret.'

'Don't worry – her lips are sealed. It's only the unimportant stuff that she can't help telling others.' Margaret held up another present to her ear, shaking it. It made a rattling noise. 'Ooh, this one sounds a little more interesting.'

She ripped off the paper to reveal a cardboard box. Opening it, her face fell. 'It's just vase number ten,' she said, feeling rather cheated.

John reached for the vase. 'But what on earth made that sound?' He reached inside the vase to pull out another wrapped box. Margaret leaned closer, intrigued. John ripped off the gold wrapping paper to reveal... a box of condoms.

It was hard to say who out of the two of them was more embarrassed. Red-faced, John snatched the card, bending it in his haste to get it open. He cleared his throat. 'I had a bad feeling I knew who this was from.'

Sure enough, the card read simply:

Congratulations John and Margaret!

Hope you like the vase (I'm afraid it's a little too late for my other present)!

All my love,

Nick

For a moment they were both speechless. Margaret was the first to recover, beginning to laugh, a little at first, and then so much that her eyes were watering and her sides aching. It was infectious, and John was not long immune; soon they were both laughing so hard that they could hardly breathe.

'How – did – he – know?' gasped Margaret finally, trying to regain control. They had been trying for some minutes to compose themselves, but they would just need to look at each other's faces, Nick's card, or his second present before they were lost again.

John took deep breaths, trying to think serious thoughts, such as his mother's reaction if she ever found out. That worked. 'I told him before,' he admitted. 'I asked his advice before I came to you.'

Margaret managed to raise an eyebrow while still clutching her side. 'Oh? What did he say?'

John shrugged. 'He called me an idiot, bought me a drink and advised me not to marry you.'

Margaret looked triumphant. 'See – someone else agrees with me!'

John merely looked at her seriously. 'I wasn't going to tell you, but if it'll stop you twisting everything around to strengthen your own argument, I will. He told me not to marry you because he thought you were after my money.' Margaret's grin faded, and John didn't feel any of the vindictive triumph he had been expecting; instead he only felt horribly guilty for wiping away her smile.

'But he changed his mind when he met you at the wedding rehearsal,' he added hastily. 'He actually said I was lucky it was you and not some gold-digger.'

Margaret looked away. 'Charmed, I'm sure,' she quipped, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

John forced a laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 'That's what I thought too – it hardly shows much faith in my taste.' He straightened the loose tie around his neck and fluffed up his hair in a mock-debonair manner which brought a tiny smile to her face, despite her best efforts to suppress it. 'After all, I've always been rather discerning.' He smirked like an idiot and her smile widened.

Then he said seriously, hesitating a moment before taking her hand, 'I'm glad it's you, though, rather than anyone else.'

She squeezed his hand. 'Thank you. I suppose I could say the same.'

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