Made in Heaven Read Online Free

watching something boring like sport. Isis didn’t know if he did this because he was dying to see what was in the paper, or because he didn’t want to talk to her for any longer than he had to. As soon as Mum came into the room, he changed and became all smiley and friendly. He even told her how pretty she was looking sometimes.
    The main good thing about Adrian was that he wanted the wedding to be a real, proper wedding with flowers and lovely dresses and best of all, a bridesmaid. That was what Isis was going to be and she was so excited by the idea that she’d long ago stopped worrying about whether she really liked Adrian or not. When Mum or Grandma asked her how she and Adrian were getting on, Isis always said that everything was fine. Which it mostly was.
    All the grown-ups were talking: Em to Grandpa, Grandma to Adrian’s mother, who’d asked to be called Auntie Maureen, which was stupid, because she wasn’t an auntie, and also to Charlotte (who was Grandma’s auntie but liked to be called Charlotte) and Mum to Adrian. Adrian’s dad was late. Isis didn’t know his name but supposed he’d be Uncle Something. She picked up the heavy silver fork and began to eat the salmon mousse which was delicious and a really mega-coolcolour. Perhaps, she thought, I could have a salmon-mousse-pink bridesmaid’s dress.
    *
    Zannah glanced round the table and recognized what she was feeling as happiness. She closed her eyes briefly, wanting to hold the moment in her mind; wanting to be able to bring it back and remember it over and over again. Darling Isis, Ma and Pa, Charlotte, Em, even Maureen … they all seemed absorbed in harmonious and delightful conversations. They’d have to get down to business later on; after coffee perhaps. This lunch was not just to get the two families together, but also to start a discussion about the venue for the wedding. Everyone agreed that this was the most important decision of all, and Zannah was determined that every arrangement should be made in an unhurried and unflustered state, where options could be rationally debated. She’d heard enough stories about families practically coming to blows over wedding plans and she was determined to avoid unpleasantness. Everyone, she was sure, would go out of their way to be helpful, but Em’s reaction when she’d told her this had dismayed her.
    â€˜What you mean is,’ she had said, ‘you’re sure that everyone will roll over and do exactly what you want them to do. You don’t see how they could fail to agree with you. I reckon you might get a rude shock.’
    â€˜I do not mean that!’ Zannah had retorted, but now, thinking it over, she could see there was something in what Em said. She
had
made up her mind about certain things and anyone wanting to change it was going to have their work cut out.
    I won’t worry about that now, she told herself. The food is perfect, the house is beautiful. And Adrian. Thinking about him made Zannah feel faint. She remembered him beside her in bed last night and felt heat rising to her face. Sometimes, when a darker mood came over her, a tiny voice whispered in her ear saying,
The sex is so good, Zannah. Are you sure you’re not being overwhelmed by it? Have you lost your critical faculties in a tide of lust?
The answers, of course, were always the same: no, and no.
    Adrian Whittaker was handsome, clever, and he worked for an investment bank in the City at a job he enjoyed. He was, he told her from time to time, ‘doing rather well considering I’m only thirty-one’.
    Zannah thought he earned a ridiculous amount of money. ‘It’s not fair,’ she’d told Adrian, early in their relationship. Teachers work far harder than bankers, plus we’re dealing with kids, real people, all day long. You do nothing but stare at a computer and move notional sums of money around. You go out for a boozy lunch most