why don’t you keep it, there’s plenty of time for me to enjoy it.’
‘No darling, it wouldn’t be right, that’s not the tradition.’
‘It’s so beautiful,’ Elizabeth said again and slipped it on the ring finger of her right hand. She looked at her mother, ‘I’ll treasure it always.’
‘Good, darling. Now give it back to me and I’ll return it to the bank on Monday.’
‘What on earth for! I’m going to wear it.’
‘You can’t, that’s not the way we do it! Besides what will Adrian say? Won’t he be offended if he sees you wearing diamonds other than his? And you wouldn’t want to upset him – not on your wedding day!’
‘What an extraordinary suggestion! Of course he wouldn’t be offended. Besides, Adrian is unquestionably of the school that believes the more diamonds the better.’
‘That’s not very nice, Elizabeth, not everyone has been as fortunate as you.’
And again the thought hacked its way to the surface: what an unexpected ally Adrian had gained.
Elizabeth looked at the rosette of diamonds. It was one of the few remnants of Bainbridge life remaining to her. Twenty years ago all her hopes had been shaped by the Bainbridge heritage: she had expected a comfortable life with a husband and three children, a complete life as wife and mother; now, of all that, she had only the diamonds and the mothering. She turned to Ginnie and smiled – she had the best, of that she was sure. Ginnie smiled back and touched the rosette of diamonds. ‘Such a pretty ring,’ she said.
‘It’s yours when I’m dead and gone.’
‘Fortunately I’m happy to wait a good long time.’ Ginnie laughed, she had heard the story of the ring many times. She glanced at the clock. ‘What time are you meeting with the curator?’
‘Not until ten o’clock.’
‘Well I’m afraid you’ll be awfully early. I’d like to leave in half an hour, so let’s get going.’
Elizabeth jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom. She stood under the shower, aware of her aching shoulders and tired eyes as the water washed over her. Soap caught in her ring, it was desperately in need of a clean; she made a mental note to soak it in gin that evening. She smiled as she remembered Adrian’s horror when first he discovered her diamonds twinkling in the bottom of an eggcup full of gin. She had explained that her Aunt Leila insisted this was the only way to clean diamonds, but Adrian had been unconvinced. He was scared something would happen to them – but then his tendency always had been to worry about things; things above all else. It was one of the problems of their marriage: where Elizabeth’s interest lay with ideas, Adrian’s was directed at things – big things, valuable things, sometimes beautiful things, other times grotesque.
‘Come down to earth,’ he’d say to her. ‘Or better still, come to bed.’
Things and sex, that was Adrian. So many things and so much sex, and then with Ginnie’s birth and the problems, less sex, until he decided Elizabeth was frigid and should seek professional advice. Which she did. But after a few sessions the counsellor said there was little more she could do unless Adrian were willing to attend, which he was not. After the counselling finished, the sex recommenced and continued until the end of the marriage. Elizabeth simply complied with his expectations, proficiently but, as he was quick to remind her, without the passion she had shown in the early days.
There was a knock at the bathroom door and Ginnie entered. She was dressed in a pair of brightly coloured harem trousers and a loose, yellow shirt.
‘Well?’
Elizabeth peered around the shower screen. ‘Perfect,’ she said, and silently hoped that everything would be.
‘Good. Now will you please hurry – I want to leave in ten minutes.’
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