The Wedding Countdown

by Ruth Saberton

‘I gave you money; what more do you want?’

  She dabs her eyes with her cuff. ‘What do I want?’ Her voice rises, a note of hysteria creeping in. ‘I want what anyone in my position would want! Some support!’

  ‘What’s two grand if it isn’t supportive?’ says Raza, arctic cold.

  ‘Not money!’ Her tears plop onto the Persian rug. ‘I need some support from you.’

  Raza glances pointedly at his expensive watch. ‘Time is money, Caroline, and your time is well and truly up. I have another client.’

  ‘You utter bastard.’

  ‘I think I’ve been more than generous.’

  ‘It’s all about money with you, isn’t it?’

  Raza doesn’t reply. Instead he reaches for his wallet and plucks out a wad of notes. ‘If it’s money you want then have it with my pleasure and leave me alone. It was fun, Caro, but that’s all. Don’t start reading anything more into it. You seriously couldn’t have thought we had a future?’

  ‘If I did then I must have been crazy. Keep your money.’ She shoves past him, and notes flutter into the air, drifting downwards like expensive snow. ‘It was never about money, Raza. Keep it. I hope it makes you happy.’

  ‘The only thing that makes me happy,’ drawls Raza, ‘is that we are through.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she says. ‘We most certainly are.’

  She raises her chin and walks out of the office. There isn’t time for me to move, and as she turns left she sees me loitering uncomfortably in the lobby.

  ‘Good luck,’ she says to me. ‘You’ll need it.’

  And then she’s gone, a small trembling figure, tear-streaked and broken-hearted. I stare after her, more shaken than I can say.

  Is this how Raza treats all his ex-girlfriends?

  Or is this how he treats people who get in his way?

  Suddenly I don’t want to go back into that plush office and discuss our arrangements for the weekend. I want to get away and sort my head out. The charming generous guy I know and the cruel, angry man I’ve just seen are like two totally different people.

  Which one is the real Raza?

  Chapter 25

  Buzz! Buzz!

  My text alert shrills from the depths of my bag, rattling against my keys and causing me to jump out of my skin just like in the bad old days of Aadam.

  ‘Aren’t you going to read it?’ asks Nish, when I continue to tap away at my computer as though the review of ready-made curries was the most fascinating thing ever.

  ‘No,’ I say. Goodness, M&S in second place to Asda, who’d have thought it?

  ‘It could be the girls. What if they’ve arrived early or something? Can you imagine Fizz loose in London?’

  I can actually, but such imaginings normally belong to the kind of bad dreams that have me waking up at four a.m. with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

  I’m going to have to check the sodding phone now, even though I know it’s going to be Raza.

  And no, I haven’t developed psychic skills since lunchtime. Raza has already texted three times this afternoon.

  Sorry u had to c that will explain l8r

  Said the first one, swiftly followed by:

  Caro is my ex

  Raza’s ugly words keep buzzing around my brain like insistent hornets. I don’t doubt the red-haired girl is his ex but the way he treated her was so callous.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Nish scoots over on her office chair. ‘You’re looking really odd. What’s happened?’

  ‘I’m just on edge because the twins are due in an hour.’

  Nish doesn’t look convinced. ‘You’d better check your phone then.’

  She delves into my bag and pulls it out and with it the necklace Raza gave me earlier; the necklace that I ripped off and stuffed into my bag when I tore out of his office.

  ‘Bloody Hell!’ Nish gasps. ‘Unless you robbed H Samuel in your lunch break I take it this is another offering from The Razor?’

  I nod and the green stone eyeballs me.

  Nish whistles. ‘I won’t ask if it’s real. Raza doesn’t strike me as the sort of bloke who gets his girlfriend fakes. He wants everyone to know exactly how much cash he can splash.’

  I choose not to rise to this comment.

  Nish isn’t Raza’s biggest fan, a fact I can only attribute to her spending so much time with Jamal and Wish recently. They’ve probably been telling her all sorts of horror stories.

  For the first time I’m starting to wonder what they are.

  ‘Yeah, it’s real,’ I say.

  ‘Blimey.’ Nish holds the necklace up and swings it backwards and forwards. ‘You are feeling very sleepy, when I count to five you will find yourself totally and utterly under Raza’s spell.’

  ‘Very funny.’ I snatch the necklace back and stuff it into my bag. ‘It proves he’s serious. He’s said he wants our relationship to become more special, which can only mean one thing.’

  This is the point where my best friend is supposed to shriek and fling her arms around me. But Nish looks more like she’s sucking a particularly acidy acid drop.

  ‘What exactly does he mean by special?’

  ‘Marriage, of course.’

  ‘Marriage!’ screeches Nish, at which I can see Raj’s ears prick up. ‘Sorry!’ she lowers her voice. ‘Mills, are you sure? I haven’t exactly got the impression Raza’s keen to settle down. He’s a playboy.’

  ‘He’s a Pakistani lawyer, Nish, not Hugh bloody Hefner.’

  ‘Yes, but marriage?’ Her brow crinkles. ‘Wish said…’

  ‘Don’t stop now, Nish. Wish said what exactly?’

  ‘Nothing awful. What have you got against Wish lately?’

  I shut down my computer, clicking the mouse furiously. ‘Nothing, except I don’t like him slagging off Raza to anyone who’ll listen.’

  ‘Wish, slagging Raza off? He’d never do that. But he knows Raza and he’s worried about you.’

  ‘He doesn’t need to be worried,’ I say coldly. ‘I can look after myself, thanks.’

  Nish shakes her head. ‘You are way out of your depth, girlfriend. Raza has a terrible track record with women. His bedposts are so whittled with notches they’re practically sawdust.’

  ‘I don’t need to listen to this. I don’t know what Wish’s problem is with Raza but he’s done an excellent job of turning you against him.’

  ‘If you don’t know why Wish is so concerned then you’re more stupid than I thought!’ Nish says. ‘But no, Mills Ali the Dating Queen knows best. Go ahead, get more involved with Raza if that’s what you want. But don’t come crying to me when you end up like poor Caroline Moncrieff.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Caroline Moncrieff?’ Nish repeats. ‘She was seeing Raza just before you met him. Jamal says she was crazy about him and she’s a mess now.’

  I think about the broken girl in Raza’s office. Yeah, I’d say that she was a mess.

  ‘Relationships end.’

  ‘Of course they do,’ Nish agrees. ‘But there are ways of dealing with it and apparently Raza’s aren’t the kindest. Believe me; he leaves a trail of broken hearts.’

  ‘Would he have given me that necklace or said he wants our relationship to become more special if he was planning on dumping me?’

  Nish looks a little wrong-footed. ‘Maybe not.’

  ‘Could you have misjudged him?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she says doubtfully.

  I reach forward and take her hand. ‘Stop worrying about me. Please? I’m a big girl and I can handle Raza.’

  ‘OK.’ Nish sounds far from convinced, and to be honest when I check my text and read

  Caro means nothing

  neither am I.

  By the time I reach King’s Cross, London’s embroiled in the rush hour. As I squeeze onto the escalator I’m praying the impossible hasn’t happened and the twins’ train hasn’t come in on time. Locating an arrivals board I elbow my way through the crowds and crane my neck to decipher th
e yellow text.

  Delayed by thirty minutes. Phew. Grateful for this breathing space, I weave back across the concourse, my ears ringing with the roar of diesel engines and the beeping of reversing cargo trolleys. I head for the coffee shop, hoping to grab a latte and have a quick sit-down before the twins explode onto the unsuspecting people of London.

  Once in the coffee scented fug and with the comforting hiss of the espresso machine in the background, I sink onto a sofa and wrap my hands around my mug. What a day. I’d like nothing more than to go home, order a pizza and veg out in front of mindless telly. Then maybe a hot bath and into bed, hopefully to fall straight into sleep rather than replay the scene between Raza and Caroline Moncrieff for the umpteenth time.

  If only. I can’t imagine Fizz will be up for a night in. She’ll be frantic to head off to Oxford Street and out for dinner.

  ‘Is it that bad?’ asks a voice by my side.

  I jump.

  ‘Hi,’ says Raza sheepishly. His hair, beaded with raindrops, flops across his eyes. He’s clutching a cup of coffee in one hand and a bunch of pink roses in the other. ‘May I join you?’

  ‘If you must.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Raza places his mug on the low coffee table and settles himself next to me. I’m very aware that his long, muscular thigh is resting against my shorter one. I shift my leg away.

  ‘These are for you.’ He places the roses onto table. ‘They’re to say sorry.’

  ‘Aren’t you giving them to the wrong girl?’

  Raza sighs. ‘I wish that you hadn’t seen that. I’ve tried so hard to protect you from Caro.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘She looked really dangerous.’

  ‘The girl’s obsessed, Mills. I can’t convince her that it’s over.’

  ‘I thought you made it very plain.’

  ‘I needed to. You’re really special to me and Caro needs to understand that. I’ve pleaded and pleaded with her to move on but, as you saw, she’s pretty persistent.’ Raza turns to me and his eyes are moist. ‘But it doesn’t matter now, does it? She’s won.’

  ‘Raza,’ I say gently, ‘it’s not about winning or losing. I saw another side to you this afternoon and it’s really unnerving.’

  ‘So that’s it? I don’t even get to explain?’

  ‘It’s pretty self-explanatory. She’s your ex.’

  ‘But never a serious one!’ cries Raza. ‘Ask bloody Wish if you don’t believe me! I knew it wasn’t going to work between us, with Caro being English and me being Pakistani, and maybe I should have made it clearer.’ His eyes are wide with remorse. ‘It was cruel to give her false hope, but as soon as I met you I told her it was over.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. I want things to be perfect between us, Mills. The last thing I need is Caroline causing another scene.’

  ‘But why were you giving her money?’

  Raza buries his head in his hands. ‘Where do I start? Caro finished with a long-term partner for me and to cut a long story short she was saddled with a huge mortgage. I helped her to pay it.’

  ‘But why were you angry if you’d agreed to pay?’

  ‘Because I’ve told Caro that it’s got to end,’ Raza sighs. ‘I want to concentrate on the future, not my past. A future I hope you’re going to be a part of. And she went crazy; she said unless I continued to pay the mortgage she’d go to my parents and tell them all about our relationship.’

  He pauses and takes a big gulp of coffee. ‘My parents are lovely people but totally traditional. It would destroy them if people knew I’d been seeing an English girl. Can you imagine what that would do to their izzat? They’d never be able to hold their heads up again in our community. I couldn’t risk that so I carried on paying. That’s what we were arguing about when you came in.’

  ‘She’s blackmailing you?’ That wasn’t at all how it looked to me. ‘But she was so upset.’ And she didn’t take the money…

  ‘Of course she’s upset. She’s got to find a way to support herself because I’ve told her that’s it.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘That she’ll tell your folks?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ he says swiftly. ‘Hopefully it’s just an idle threat. Anyway, never mind that. I just wanted to explain why we were rowing and why I may have appeared a little…harsh. Am I forgiven?’

  Is he? As I look at him, so handsome with his fine features and floppy dark hair, I’m really confused. I’m finding it hard to equate the blackmailing Caroline that he’s just told me about with the pale girl who’d sobbed in his office.

  Something doesn’t feel right.

  ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ Raza asks.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see an intercity draw in to the nearest platform. I glance down at my watch and, sure enough, the thirty minutes has zoomed by; Roma and Fizz will be alighting any second. I don’t have the time to play emotional chess with Raza.

  Do I believe him?

  I want to.

  And besides, why would he lie?

  ‘You believe me, don’t you?’ he presses, reaching out and covering my hand with his. I flinch at this unexpected contact and snatch my fingers away.

  ‘Raza!’ I hiss. ‘You know we mustn’t touch!’

  ‘Sorry.’ Raza’s face falls. ‘It’s just I can’t bear to think I might lose you. Don’t you know how you make me feel? I’m falling for you. I adore you. Totally and utterly adore you.’

  The intercity has stopped and passengers are spilling out onto the platform, dragging wheelie cases and scurrying towards the barriers.

  I couldn’t be more dazed if Raza had walloped me over the head with his briefcase. He’s falling in love with me. He wants to make our relationship special. He’s offering me everything I ever dreamed I’d hear from a guy that I had chosen myself.

  Shouldn’t I be jumping for joy?

  ‘Do you feel the same?’ He looks so worried that I soften a little. He’s still the same charming guy that he was before today. Nothing’s really changed, has it?

  But am I in love with him?

  Sheesh, how would I know what love feels like?

  I like Raza: he’s witty and entertaining and he’s certainly fantastic husband material. But as for love… Well, that’s something totally different, isn’t it?

  ‘Maybe,’ I hedge. ‘But today really upset me.’

  ‘You don’t believe me about Caroline, do you?’ sighs Raza. ‘Wish said you wouldn’t. I guess that he was right; you don’t care for me.’

  I’m sick and tired of Wish sticking his oar in.

  ‘Of course I believe you,’ I say firmly.

  ‘But could you come to love me?’

  I pick up my bag, flustered. ‘I’m very fond of you.’

  ‘Well, that’s as good a start as any,’ Raza grins, and it’s like the sun has come out after a very gloomy morning. ‘So, back to what I said earlier about making our relationship special–’

  I shake my head. ‘We can’t discuss this now. The twins’ train is in.’

  ‘Great.’ Raza picks up his briefcase. ‘I can’t wait to meet them.’

  I was going to suggest he goes home and I’ll call him tomorrow, but he looks so happy I haven’t the heart to disappoint him. So I just nod, try very hard to ignore the churning sensation in the pit of my stomach, and let him accompany me to the ticket barriers. Minutes later Fizz and Roma are racing towards me, squealing with excitement, and from then on in I don’t have time to dwell on anything else.

  Which is probably a good thing.

  Chapter 26

  ‘Fizz! Hurry up! Raza will be here any second.’

  ‘All right, all right, don’t have a cow,’ shouts Fizz, over the hiss of hairspray. ‘I’ll be out in five.’

  Gnashing my teeth I remember why living with Fizz is such hard work. She has to be one of the most selfish people in the history of the world. If you cut her in half the word me would run right through her l
ike seaside rock.

  ‘If you’re not out of there in one minute we’re going without you,’ I threaten. I’m due to interview PoppadRUm an hour before they go on stage, which means we have about forty minutes to get to Wembley. I’m not going to let Fizz screw up my exclusive for the sake of another layer of lip gloss.

  ‘Raza’s here!’ Roma calls. ‘He’s in the most amazing car!’

  I don’t doubt it. From the moment the twins hurled themselves into my arms Raza’s pulled out all the stops to make their visit special. Nothing has been too much effort, from producing a table at The Ivy on the Friday evening, to cancelling two appointments to accompany us on a tour of the sights. This impressed me because Raza never normally puts his work aside for anything or anyone, but today his briefs took second place to trailing around Topshop and eating burgers at Planet Hollywood. He insisted on paying for everything too, from the armfuls of clothes Fizz decided she couldn’t live without to the sumptuous tea that we took at The Ritz. Yes, Raza has definitely put himself up for the Best Potential Brother-in-Law of the Year Award and the girls are really impressed by him.

  And I am too, of course. He couldn’t have made it clearer he’s serious about me if he’d stood on the dome of St Paul’s with a megaphone and announced it to the whole of London. I’ve almost forgotten about Caroline Moncrieff.

  Almost.

  ‘He’s lush,’ Fizz had breathed, staring admiringly at Raza as he paid for her shopping. ‘And he’s got a nice bum.’

  ‘Fizz!’ Roma cried. ‘You can’t say that!’

  ‘Why not?’ Fizz said. ‘I’m just stating a fact; that’s one seriously nice arse! Isn’t it, Mills baj?’

  Is it? I hadn’t noticed. I told myself firmly that my relationship with Raza was an adult one, based on common interests and values, not anything as shallow as liking his bum.

  ‘That’s not an appropriate comment, Fizz,’ I scolded.

  Fizz pulled a face. ‘If you don’t appreciate how hot he is then you need your eyes tested!’

  I do appreciate Raza, I decide as I wait impatiently for Fizz. I appreciate the many suitable husbandly qualities that he has. On my last visit home I told Mummy-ji a little about him and she was over the moon and relieved. Raza’s invited me to dinner next week and hinted that he has something important to talk about. Perhaps soon I’ll actually have something exciting to tell her?