by Lindsey Kelk
‘Fair enough,’ he smiled at my artistic masterpiece. ‘I suppose she has to go home anyway, with you abandoning us so callously.’
‘Well yeah,’ I agreed. ‘If she’s going to be alone in anyone’s house, it might as well be hers. Besides, there’s no way she’s getting it on with my brother here. I’m not that OK with it.’
‘When do you leave again?’ he asked.
About ten minutes after I’d given up banging Dan’s door down, Veronica had called to tell me I’d got the Sydney job. The make-up artist the magazine had originally booked had quit when she’d heard Dan had pulled out, and Dan had only pulled out because he thought I was going. There wasn’t a single verse in Alanis Morissette’s entire songbook to deal with the irony of the situation. Because Dan had let them down, I was getting to go to Australia. Because I had let him down, I got the opportunity of a lifetime. Or had he let me down? Either way, neither of us had seemed very happy the last time we’d spoken and now we were both going to be on opposite sides of the planet because he wouldn’t listen. I was prepared to accept some responsibility but, quite frankly, not a lot.
‘I’m going tomorrow night.’ I picked up the wedding invite from the arm of the sofa and held out my arms to indicate I was all done. ‘Flight’s at ten.’
‘I’ll drive you.’ Matthew held out his arm. ‘You have to bring me back some Vegemite.’
‘All right you two, ready?’ Stephen poked his head around the living-room door and Matthew lit up like a Christmas tree. ‘The car’s double parked. Rachel, you look amazing.’
Lucky lady that I was, I had two escorts to the wedding. And, given the way they were smiling at each other, there would be another wedding to go to soon enough. God knows Stephen had spent every waking moment working me and Emelie over for approval since we got back from Toronto. And rightly so. Matthew might be ready to give him a second chance, but Emelie and I had agreed he was on a six-month probation period as far as we were concerned. One wrong look and we took his balls.
‘Shall we go?’ Matthew asked, holding out his arm.
I checked the list in my little pink notebook – invite, directions, card, present – yep, I had everything.
‘We shall,’ I gave him a tiny curtsey and took the offered appendage. Since I was sworn off men for the time being, it was likely to be the only appendage I’d be manhandling for a while.
Emelie and Paul were waiting for us outside the church and, as much as it pained me to admit it, they both looked incredibly happy to be together. Paul had clearly washed his Ewok hair and Em, wearing my pale blue silk number and cute little white lace gloves, was glowing. It was just unfortunate that they weren’t the only people waiting for me outside the church.
I spotted Simon before anyone else. I put it down to the fact that spending five years of being with someone gave you something of a Spidey sense as to when they were present. His car, our car, was parked a little way down the lane from the church and he was leaning against a gravestone a few feet away, decked out in his best suit, his slightly-too-long dark blond hair combed down flat. He’d clearly missed his monthly haircut appointment.
‘Don’t worry,’ Matthew said as Paul pushed up his suit sleeves. ‘We’ll get rid of him.’
‘No.’ I held my hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. I could tell he wasn’t there to start trouble. He looked so sad. ‘I’ll talk to him. Wait for me inside.’
Seeing I was serious, the four of them set off up the path to the church while I turned in the opposite direction. This wouldn’t take long.
‘Simon?’
‘Rachel?’ He squinted at me and then did a double take. ‘Is that you?’
‘I realize it’s been a while but I wouldn’t have thought you’d have forgotten what I look like.’ I crossed my arms in front of me. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Your hair.’ He continued to look me up and down until we passed right through ignorant and onto completely obnoxious. ‘You look great.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied. At least I actually did, which was a weight off my mind. We were a long way from baggy boxers and his dirty old T-shirt in the hallway. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Well, you wouldn’t talk to me on the phone,’ he said. His tie flapped awkwardly in the breeze. He never could tie them properly and the skinny end was far too long. ‘And I know you hate coming to family things on your own. I wanted to come with you.’
‘I’m not on my own, though.’ I pointed out Matthew and Paul, who – against my instructions – were attempting to look menacing on the steps of the church. They weren’t quite pulling off the Mitchell brothers. Chuckle Brothers maybe, but that probably wasn’t quite the effect they were going for. ‘And if I wanted to talk to you, I’d have called you.’
‘I didn’t recognize you,’ he said. ‘From over there, I didn’t realize it was you. Your hair?’
The hair. Always the hair.
‘Simon, we’re at my dad’s wedding, don’t you think today’s going to be enough of a pain in the arse for me without you pulling this shit?’ I shook my head. ‘Just go home.’
‘Rachel, listen.’ He shuffled a little bit closer. I didn’t move an inch. ‘I know you’re pissed off, you’re right to be pissed off, but I really am sorry. Can’t you give me a second chance? Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.’
Wow. Whatever it takes. I wondered if he’d get in a barrel and let me throw him over Niagara Falls? I sighed and looked at the sorry state of my ex-boyfriend. The former love of my life. The man I’d accepted would be the father of my children. Before I knew better than to settle. I had no doubt he meant what he was saying: he was a complete mess. If I took him back, I was certain he’d spend a good six months at least on his best behaviour; maybe he would even propose. And it would be wonderful to have someone back in my bed at night, someone to be there when I got home at night, someone to take care of me.
But it wasn’t going to be him. And until I’d worked out who it was, I was more than capable of taking care of myself.
‘I’m sorry, Simon.’ I stepped in closer, gave him a hug and sorted out his tie. ‘It’s not going to work out. Go home.’
‘But the flat? The car? Croatia?’ he said with desperation.
Hmm. Weren’t they my arguments once upon a time?
‘My mum says she’ll buy you out of the flat,’ I replied, thankful that my mum was a lot better with money than I ever would be. ‘The car is yours; I never drive it anyway. We’ll take whatever it works out to off the cost of the flat. And you’ll have to go to Croatia without me. I’ll be in Sydney.’
‘Sydney, Australia?’ Desperation petered out into defeat and Simon shrank back into himself. I felt myself grow taller in my heels.
‘I have a job there,’ I nodded. ‘I’ll call you when I get back. We can sort out the house stuff then.’
And, with one final kiss on the cheek, I turned and walked back up the path to the church, took Matthew’s hands and closed the door on Simon. Which would have been an incredibly dignified and elegant end to our relationship if Paul hadn’t gone back outside and chased him all the way to his car and screamed obscenities down the lane, in front of the vicar, until Simon drove away in tears.
My brother, my protector.
My dad’s wedding, just like the previous two I’d attended in non-foetus form, was beautiful. But you’d think, by the time you’d made it to your fourth, you’d have it down to a fine art. I had to give the man his due: he really did seem to look as though he meant what he was saying, while he was saying it. And he couldn’t be completely evil, I reasoned, otherwise my mum and Theresa, his second wife, wouldn’t be sitting in the back of the church nattering away after the ceremony. Maybe his last wife would make it to the next wedding. Give her a bumper marriage in the middle to get over the disappointment.
‘Rachel Summers,’ a familiar voice crowed over my shoulder outside the church. ‘Don’t you look a vision?’
‘Aunt Beverley,’ I
acknowledged, wondering what the wedding etiquette was on pushing an elderly relative over and then hiding behind the headstones. Probably not OK at aged 28. Maybe I could pay one of the younger cousins to do it. Or just ask Matthew. He’d totally do it.
‘That dress really is splendid,’ she said, holding my hands out to my sides so she could get a proper look. A proper look as to where to stick the knife. ‘Almost a wedding dress, isn’t it? And yet I still don’t see a ring on that finger. Such a shame. You’re what? Thirty now? Thirty-one?’
Ahh, she’d gone straight in with a direct blow. Only one way to fight back really, and Redhead Rachel wasn’t afraid to fight passive-aggressive bitchiness with passive-aggressive bitchiness.
‘Oh shit, has it fallen off?’ I snatched my hand away and theatrically inspected my left hand. ‘Matthew’ll be ever so mad.’
‘You’re engaged?’ She looked a little bit confused. But then she was old; she always looked a little bit confused. ‘To that young man?’
We both looked over to where that young man was pawing Stephen and completely blowing my cover. The one condition of him bringing his boyfriend to the wedding was that he acted as my Aunt Beverley cover and he’d failed. Oh, young love.
‘No, I’m only joking.’ I turned back to my aunt and gave her my biggest, brightest smile. ‘We’re just fuck buddies, you know?’
‘Oh,’ she let go of my other hand. ‘Rachel.’
‘Yeah, well, he’s a massive poof really, but you know what men are like, never satisfied. He’d probably put it in a goat if it let him.’ I leaned over to give her a far-too-tight hug for far too long. ‘Bye, Bev. Love to Uncle Alan.’
I strolled off across the lawn with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Turned out I didn’t need a date to make this wedding tolerable. Veronica had been right, as long as I had my own balls, who needed a man?
By nightfall, the wedding had been declared a huge success and, more importantly, everyone loved my dress. I’d have felt guilty for stealing the bride’s thunder but, given that most of the people in attendance, including Paul, couldn’t even remember her name, I chose not to. And besides, she seemed more pissed off at the presence of my mother and Theresa to notice what her eldest stepchild was wearing. Not that I was sure she knew who I was: my dad had so many kids now we were practically the Von Trapp family, except without musical talent and considerably better dressed.
‘How long do you give this one?’ my mum asked, taking the empty seat next to me at a table right by the dance floor. ‘I like her, she’s got a good energy.’
‘A year? Two?’ I suggested.
‘Generous,’ she said. ‘First anniversary max.’
‘I thought you liked her?’
‘That’s why I’m only giving them a year,’ she smiled. ‘Far too good for your father.’
‘And the two of you claim to be friends.’ I sipped my billionth glass of champagne and smiled at Em as she and Paul joined my dad and his newest wife for their first dance. They’d been inseparable and quite frankly, insufferable all day long, but even I had to admit they looked great together. I’d never seen Em so smitten with a boy and I’d never seen Paul so attentive. Maybe they were meant to be. But still. Ew. ‘I can’t believe she’s here with Paul.’
‘He’s been taken with her for some time, you know.’ Mum accepted a top-up on her champagne and clinked my glass. ‘You might have to get used to this. I know I’d be much happier with Emelie for a daughter-in-law than some of the young ladies I’ve heard about in the past.’
‘Young ladies?’
‘Exactly,’ Mum replied. ‘And Matthew is back with Stephen?’
‘He is,’ I confirmed. ‘Apparently sometimes a break can work. I’ve never seen either of them so happy.’
‘And you?’
I turned in my chair to give her the full effect of my dazzling smile and jazz hands. ‘Haven’t you heard? I’m in a three-way relationship with two gays. It’s been the talk of the wedding.’
Aunt Beverley hadn’t been slow in getting the gossip out.
‘Well, yes, I’d heard that,’ she sighed. ‘I told Bev I’d had you all over for Christmas dinner last year and they both call me Mum.’
I loved my mother.
‘But really, what’s going on? Are you OK?’
‘I am,’ I replied. ‘Or at least I will be. But yeah, work is good, my friends are happy, my brother is going out with someone he won’t catch anything from and you’re smiling. What more could I want?’
‘I saw Simon outside earlier.’ She ignored my comment about Paul, just as she had been ignoring them for the last twenty-seven years. ‘Are you …?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Good.’
‘Why would I waste my time on a Scorpio?’ I gave her a nudge and sipped my wine while my alleged gay lovers joined in the slow dance. Cue mass murmurs around the room. ‘I’m going to give boys a miss for now. No point wasting time on the wrong one.’
‘Glad you’ve finally come round to my way of thinking,’ Mum said. ‘Being alone doesn’t mean being lonely. We’re made of stronger stuff, you and I. A man can’t make you happy if you’re not happy with yourself, you know.’
‘I know,’ I said, setting my champagne down and giving her a hug. ‘I’m sorry I’ve given you such a hard time in the past. I didn’t really understand before.’
‘You forget you’ll always be my baby,’ she said, hugging back. ‘You might think you’re all grown up, but you’ve still got a lot to learn before you’re as wise as your old mum.’
‘Point taken.’ Did it ever get any easier to accept your parents were right and you were wrong?
‘Ms Summers?’ Matthew appeared and held out his hand to lead me to the dance floor while Stephen offered the same to my mum. ‘Quick spin and then home?’ he suggested, spinning me out and then whirling me back in. ‘That really is a fabulous dress. Remind me to take you somewhere worthy of its presence.’
‘Thanks.’ I gave my dad a wave over Matthew’s shoulder. He looked happy. ‘I might take you up on that. Anywhere in mind?’
‘I’m feeling another list coming on actually.’ He dipped me low on the dance floor. ‘Ten more stamps in the passport? A country from each continent? Visit every state in America?’
‘Shall I get Sydney out of the way first and we can take it from there?’ I suggested.
‘Done and done,’ he said, pulling me in close. ‘Love you, Rach.’
‘I love you too,’ I said, nuzzling into his chest. Across the floor, I saw a tall, dark middle-aged man cut in on my mum and Stephen. It wasn’t anyone I recognized, but I was familiar with the glint in her eye. There was hope for her yet. ‘And if a little old lady in a navy suit asks, we’re doing it.’
‘Gotcha,’ he nodded.
And after another verse chorus and verse of the wildly inappropriate ‘Three Times a Lady’, he gestured for us to make a move. A plan I backed wholeheartedly.
At my request, we listened to Magic FM all the way back to London, Matthew and Stephen belting out power ballads as though their lives depended on it, while I attempted to harmonize. We had just put in a spectacular version of ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ when our hire car pulled up outside my flat.
‘Night beautiful,’ Matthew kissed me on the cheek through the driver’s side window. I shoved myself halfway across him to give Stephen a sloppy kiss on the cheek that I still wasn’t sure he deserved, before turning on my heel and heading for the door. I was happy my friends were happy. I was happy my family was happy. I was happy I was drunk. Until I got home and saw a tall dark figure loitering around my doorstep. Why had I sent Matthew home without seeing me in the door? Now I was going to be murdered in this beautiful party dress and Aunt Beverley would tell everyone at the funeral I was having relations with a gay man.
‘Hi.’
I didn’t think it was usual for murderers to say hello.
I didn’t think it was usual for murderers to bring a suitcas
e.
But then I hadn’t counted on the murderer not being a murderer at all but in fact being a very tired-looking, two days’ worth of beard-wearing Dan. On my doorstep. At midnight.
‘Hi.’ I stayed at the bottom of the steps, my heart pounding and climbing up my throat. ‘You’re in LA.’
‘And you’re drunk,’ he replied, pointing to the case beside him. ‘I haven’t left yet. I’m on my way now.’
‘Oh.’ Heart crashing back down to my feet. ‘You didn’t call me back.’
‘No.’ He tipped his head to one side, his curls sliding across his forehead, covering up his eyes. ‘I had some thinking to do.’
‘Dangerous,’ I replied. This Mexican stand-off was starting to become a problem. I was drunk, it was cold and I really needed a wee. The unholy triumvirate of doorstep dilemmas.
‘Yeah, thing is,’ he said, peeling off his jumper and holding it out to me. This one was black, cashmere again. If we kept this up, I’d have quite the collection soon enough. ‘I’m in love with this girl who isn’t in love with me and I don’t really know what to do about it.’
‘Right.’ I skipped up the steps as lightly as possible given that the balls of my feet were burning. And I really, really did need that wee. ‘How do you know she’s not in love with you?’
‘Because if she felt the same way I did, I’d know.’ He took a deep breath and sat back down. I was just going to have to hold it. Afraid to stop him mid-sentence, I sat down beside him.
‘I knew it from the first day we worked together but I didn’t know what to do about it. I’d never, ever felt that way about anyone before, but she really didn’t seem that impressed by me. And she had a boyfriend, although that had never stopped me before if we’re being entirely honest.’
‘You were wearing a baseball cap,’ I said in a completely flat voice, praying for my cloudy brain to clear up. I was going to need all my wits about me for this one. ‘That first day. It was a Cosmo shoot.’