He Will Find You

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He Will Find You Page 4

by Diane Jeffrey


  ‘Thank you,’ I say.

  A few minutes later, when Dad, Julie and Daniel have all gone to bed, Hannah and I are both in our pyjamas and Hannah is waltzing around my bedroom trying to talk round the toothbrush in her mouth.

  ‘I can’t make out a word you’re saying.’ I start to giggle.

  She goes into my en suite bathroom. I hear her gargle, and then she materialises in the doorway, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

  ‘Who do all those bottles belong to?’ she says.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I ask, my tired brain conjuring up images of wine bottles, even though I haven’t drunk any alcohol for months.

  ‘All those cosmetics. We had to drag you kicking and screaming into the beauty parlour earlier,’ she jokes. ‘And I know you’re not that obsessed about your appearance.’

  What she’s really referring to, I imagine, is that I wear minimal make-up and don’t do enough with my hair for her liking. She has told me several times that people pay a lot of money to dye their hair the same colour as mine, whereas I’ve inherited this shade naturally from my mum’s Irish genes, but I just scrape my hair back into a ponytail most of the time.

  ‘No, I never take two bottles into the shower,’ I say, humouring her. ‘They’re mainly Alex’s, actually.’

  ‘Oh dear, someone should have warned you. Never. Ever.’ She prods me twice in the chest as she says this. ‘Ever.’ Another prod. ‘Go out with a man who has more beauty products than you!’ I burst out laughing. ‘Seriously. Take it from me.’

  It’s hard to imagine that anyone could possibly own more haircare products than Hannah although, to be fair, that goes with the job. Nor do I tell her that I saw Alex pack three washbags in his overnight bag.

  ‘Sebastian, right?’

  ‘Big mistake.’ All Hannah’s ex-boyfriends are big mistakes. ‘I could never get into the bathroom! He smelt good and he looked great, but he was far more in love with himself than he ever was with me.’

  ‘Moron,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah. Fuck him. Still, you won’t have that problem.’ I think she’s going to say that Alex is head over heels in love with me, but instead she says, ‘You’ve got about ten bathrooms in this house.’ It’s a gross exaggeration, and we both laugh.

  Hannah sits on the bed next to me. I’ve known Hannah for a long, long time. We’ve been inseparable since our first day at primary school. We didn’t have the same interests as we grew up: I was athletic whereas Hannah was allergic to sport. I studied hard for my A levels – work was a welcome distraction that year. Hannah, on the other hand, skipped class to concentrate on the practical side of her sex education. I got good results, which was a huge relief as I was able to get away for a while and go to university. Hannah flunked her A levels but couldn’t have cared less, even though this meant she had to carry on living with her parents for a few years.

  After I lost Louisa, Hannah was my rock. Leaving her behind in Somerset this time was harder in many ways than leaving Kevin. The conversation was a bit strained between us on the phone the first couple of times. Hannah made it very clear that she thought I was making the wrong decision. I’d desperately needed her support, but Hannah had needed a little time to come round. She resented the fact that I’d made her complicit in all this, too. I’m so glad that things are back to normal between us.

  ‘So, what’s his family like?’ she asks, hugging her knees to her chest and pulling the quilt up around her.

  ‘Well, he doesn’t have anything much to do with his dad,’ I begin. ‘He won’t be coming to the wedding. He hasn’t been invited. Apparently he was a serial adulterer and Alex’s mum threw him out when Alex was little. Nobody actually knows where he is.’

  ‘And his mum?’

  ‘Well, we didn’t exactly hit it off the first time I met her, but she’s making an effort.’

  ‘Oh? What happened?’

  ‘Well, I was talking about my childhood and growing up with Julie and Louisa, and Dad having his work cut out for him in a house with four women, two of them incorrigible twins. I overheard her whisper to Alex: “Oh, God. You didn’t tell me there were two of her.” I hadn’t told her what had happened to Louisa at that point.’

  ‘What a terrible thing to say!’ There is a brief silence, which Hannah breaks. ‘What about Alex? Does he have any brothers or sisters? I honestly can’t remember him from school at all.’

  ‘Well, he was in the same house as Louisa and me, not you. And he was two years ahead of us. He’s an only child. I think that’s part of the problem between his mum and me. She must think I’ve trapped her prince into marrying me by getting myself pregnant with his baby.’ I become aware that I’ve been twisting a strand of my hair round my finger. A nervous habit. I sit on my hands, and add, ‘Things went a bit smoother last time we met up, though.’

  ‘I’m very jealous of you, you know,’ Hannah says.

  ‘Why?’ I’m not sure what she means. Surely she doesn’t want a difficult mother-in-law.

  ‘I was jealous before. I thought you and Kevin were really good for each other—’

  ‘Hannah,’ I say in a warning tone, thinking she’s going to tell me again that I’ve messed up.

  ‘No, let me finish. From what you’ve told me about Alex, and judging from what I’ve seen of him since I arrived, I think you’ve … Well, let’s just say, I hope I find someone I can be as happy with one day.’

  ‘Really?’ Hannah has had an endless string of boyfriends, and hasn’t stayed with any of them for any length of time. I’m taken aback by her admission.

  ‘Yes. I’d like to settle down one day. Preferably before I’m in my forties.’

  ‘That gives you another three years. That’s loads of—’

  ‘I don’t want to be left on the shelf. But I don’t want to marry someone I’m not absolutely sure about, either.’

  I look at Hannah. Her cheeks are even rosier than usual. I’m at a loss for words.

  She smiles reassuringly at me, and it occurs to me that I should have found comforting words for her instead of platitudes.

  Then her smile drops, and she says, ‘You are absolutely sure about Alex, right?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I reply, my heart skipping a beat at Hannah’s perspicacity. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just that, oh, I don’t know. I like Alex. I like him a lot. But he does seem to be a bit too good to be true.’

  I don’t answer. I don’t know what to say.

  ‘Oh, don’t pay any attention to me.’ She grins again, but her flippant tone sounds affected. ‘I’m just jealous! I’m off to bed now before I say anything else I shouldn’t. You need to get some sleep before your big day.’

  I’ve been plucking at the quilt, and realise I’ve chipped a newly manicured nail. I swear under my breath.

  I’m exhausted and sleep comes almost straight away. For once, I don’t dream about Louisa. I dream about Kevin, but his face is blurry. He seems to belong to a different world, a different lifetime.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Sent: Thur, 13 Oct 2016 at 00:34

  Subject: MY BEST GIRL

  Dearest Katie,

  Two more sleeps until I see you!

  I can hardly believe it! I can’t wait.

  I hope you’re not having second thoughts. I’m having lots of thoughts … some of them honourable, some of them naughty, and they’re all about you!

  What’s mostly on my mind is that I think I’m falling in love with you. When I see you, I’m confident that I’ll know I’ve fallen for you. You are The One. My Best girl.

  Now I’ve made that declaration, I’m worried I’ll have scared you off. My promise still stands. I will behave. How is up to you.

  It’s great that Hannah has agreed to cover for you. I think I remember her from school. Vaguely. She was your best friend then, too, wasn’t she?

  See you the day after tomorrow, Katie. That s
ounds so unreal!

  All my love,

  Alexxx

  Chapter 4

  ~

  I wake up to the noise of an argument and the smell of toast, both coming from downstairs. I close my eyes tight, thinking I’ll go back to sleep for a few minutes, and then it hits me. It’s my wedding day! I leap out of bed so quickly that the room starts spinning. I sit back down on the bed and wait for it to stop. Grabbing my mobile from the bedside table, I turn it on. It gives the notification sound for an incoming text message. I grin like a loon when I see it’s from Alex.

  Good morning, princess!

  See you in church!!!

  (I mean, see you in the register office.)

  I love you, my Best girl.

  Alexxx

  My heart skips several beats. I read the text at least four times. Then, as I make my way to the bathroom, I realise his pun won’t work for much longer. I’m about to become his wife. A Riley. After today, ‘Best’ will be my maiden name.

  I shower, singing Depeche Mode’s ‘Never Let Me Down Again’, which has been in my head since I listened to it yesterday on the playlist Hannah created for me. When I’m clean, I pull on my dressing gown and make my way downstairs.

  The kitchen is a mess. Oscar and Archie have apparently finished eating – and quarrelling – and have left the table and their dirty plates and glasses on it. My dad and Daniel are still seated, munching toast, Jet is sitting on the floor between their chairs, looking hopefully from one to the other with his huge dark eyes, and, at the far end of the table, Julie is drinking tea while Hannah is standing behind her, drying her hair. She has cut it, too, judging from the clippings on the floor around Julie’s chair.

  Alex would be appalled. He is rather OCD about tidiness, but seeing my loved ones making themselves at home in the kitchen – my kitchen – puts a huge smile on my face.

  ‘Good morning,’ they chorus.

  ‘Ready for your big day?’ my sister adds loudly to make herself heard over the hairdryer.

  ‘Psychologically, yes,’ I say, ‘but physically—’ I point one hand at my wet hair and the other one at my dressing gown ‘—not quite.’

  Hannah grins. ‘Eat some brekky and I’ll make you beautiful when I’ve finished with Julie.’

  Daniel jumps up to make a fresh pot of tea. He and Dad fuss with me, forcing me to eat even though I have butterflies and no appetite. I was worried that Daniel would judge me. After all, he and Kevin are good mates and I’m sure he had to pick up the pieces when I left. But Daniel has known me for a long time and has always treated me more like a little sister than a sister-in-law, and to my relief, he’s been very supportive. If he thinks badly of me for hurting Kevin, he doesn’t show it.

  I look at Julie. She is already made up and looks radiant. Julie has fine, blonde hair, which she inherited from Dad, who was blond before he went grey and then bald. Hannah has cut Julie’s hair, which was long and a bit lank, into a sleek chin-length bob and, even with my inexpert eye, I can see that this has given Julie’s hair a lot more volume.

  Hannah, who for the moment is dressed in her usual uniform of skinny jeans and a hoodie, has tamed her own stubborn hair into ringlets. I know she’ll look uncomfortable when she has to put her dress on, but for now she looks relaxed and absolutely gorgeous.

  At one point, the boys appear in the doorway to show off their outfits to their parents. They’re wearing smart trousers and ironed shirts and I’m struck by how grown-up they seem.

  But then Julie says, ‘Have you brushed your teeth?’

  The boys look at each other, turn around and seconds later, we hear them bounding back up the stairs. We all laugh.

  The girl staring back at me from the full-length mirror in my bedroom looks like my mum. Hannah has done an amazing job on my hair, and she has given me a hand with my make-up, too. For the first time ever, I love my red hair. We don’t have any waterproof mascara, which Hannah says I’ll regret as I’m bound to get emotional and cry at some stage today. She has convinced me to go for dark brown mascara instead of the green one I normally use.

  It’s a bit of a squeeze putting on my ivory maternity wedding dress, my tummy a larger beach ball than I’d anticipated when I bought it. It’s supposed to be knee-length, but at the front it now comes down to mid-thigh. I have to breathe in and hold my shoulders back for Hannah to get the zip all the way up.

  ‘You should probably go easy on the wedding cake,’ my friend advises as I tie the silk sash loosely above my bump. I’m so nervous that I don’t think I’m going to be eating much of anything today, but I don’t say that. I just breathe out and smile at Hannah in the mirror.

  I realise I’ve made Dad think of Mum, too, because when he sees me coming down the stairs, he gasps. ‘Your mum would have been so proud of you,’ he says, quickly regaining his composure.

  This brings tears to my eyes. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but how can it be without Mum and Louisa? My hand goes to my neck and I close my fingers around the pendant of Mum’s necklace. Reminding myself that my mascara isn’t waterproof, I blink back the tears and we make our way outside and to the bottom of the drive, where the cars that Alex booked are waiting to take us to the register office in Kendal.

  The ceremony itself goes by in a bit of a blur. Alex doesn’t take his eyes off me throughout the vows. I can feel everyone else’s eyes on Alex and me from behind us. He seems to bask in the glow of all the attention, but I shut out everything so there’s only him and me.

  The Superintendent Registrar conducts the ceremony with the swift aplomb of someone who has married countless couples before and has better things to do on a Saturday. Even so, he is a lot less grumpy than when we met him to give notice of our intention to marry a month ago, although I suppose if Alex had remembered to bring his divorce papers, he might have been more affable.

  Sitting at the table, next to Alex, I sign the register as Kaitlyn Best. The last time I’ll use this name. Hannah is my witness and I’ve never met Alex’s witness before. He introduced himself as ‘Mike from the triathlon club’ moments before we entered the register office.

  ‘It’s so nice to finally meet you,’ I say now, as Alex takes his turn signing the register. He keeps his left hand on my thigh under the table as he does this. ‘It’s a shame I had to get married in order to meet Alex’s best mate!’ I’m joking, but Alex removes his hand from my leg and I wonder if I’ve offended him. I try to catch his eye, but his gaze is focused on the register we’ve just signed.

  For our wedding reception, Alex has reserved a charming hotel at Ambleside with stunning views of the lake. It comprises a country B&B on one side and a historic inn on the other. Alex described it to me, but I haven’t seen it before, and as our chauffeur-driven car pulls into the car park, I take in the grounds and the building.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ I breathe, and Alex squeezes my hand. If he was irritated earlier, all trace of it has gone now.

  The hotel is dog-friendly, which means Jet is on the guest list, much to Dad’s delight. It’s not far from Grasmere, which is convenient as my family is staying at the Old Vicarage again this evening. Alex and I will be staying here, in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

  The photographer bustles about and when he’s satisfied with his work outside, we all troop through the hotel into a large reception room. I’m rather relieved to be going indoors as it’s a cool April day and my arms and legs are bare. Alex and I have to pretend to cut the cake for the final photo, and then the photographer leaves.

  I look around the room. There are only a few guests. Alex has more than me, but not that many more. His mum, grandfather, aunt, uncle and cousins are there as well as some of his friends from the triathlon club.

  After the food and the speeches, a local band starts playing. Alex was able to book them at short notice because he goes running with the lead singer and one of the guitarists. They’re really good, and I’m impressed. As Alex leads me onto the wooden dancefloor, ev
eryone watches from their seats at the tables. I look around at the sea of smiling faces. All the guests look relaxed, including Alex’s mother.

  Alex holds me tight as we dance to ‘All of Me’ by John Legend. It was his suggestion. I don’t particularly like the song, but he was so pleased when he came up with the idea that I didn’t have the heart to say so. And even I have to admit that with the lead singer’s voice, it sounds wonderfully romantic.

  Then it is my dad’s turn to dance with me, and my face feels like it will split from grinning at Alex as he twirls his mum around. My mother-in-law has drunk several glasses of Prosecco and it seems to have agreed with her. Daniel and Julie join us on the dancefloor and out of the corner of my eye, I see one of Alex’s cousins ask Hannah to dance.

  After a while, the band plays more classic rock and roll songs and I’m enjoying myself in a little group with my sister and Hannah. As one of the musicians plays the opening chords to Chuck Berry’s Johnny B. Goode on his electric guitar, Alex comes to fetch me.

  ‘Do you know how to rock’n’roll?’ he asks me.

  ‘No,’ I answer, a little nervously.

  Alex shows me a few steps, but I have no sense of rhythm and I feel very self-conscious. I struggle to follow his lead. I bump into him at one point, and I hear him sigh. He gives up before the end of the song.

  ‘You’ve got two left feet,’ he comments, his face as impassive as his voice. ‘I’ll leave you to bop with the girls.’ He nods towards my sister and my best friend. I walk away, but I don’t feel like dancing anymore. Instead, I make my way to the toilets.

  When Hannah and Julie find me, I am bawling like a baby, trying ineffectually to dab at my mascara with a piece of toilet roll. I can’t really see what I’m doing in the mirror – the dim light keeps changing from purple to green to blue.

  ‘What’s the matter, Kaitlyn?’ Julie asks at the same time as Hannah says, ‘What’s wrong, sweetie?’

  I find myself crying loudly in my sister’s arms as Hannah rubs my back. Eventually, even though my breathing is still uneven from my crying fit, I manage to tell them what happened.

 

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