by Linda Green
‘What is it?’ she asks.
I shake my head. Still incapable of words.
‘Do you not want to do this?’
I shrug. ‘It’s hard,’ is all I manage.
‘What’s hard? Have you been pressured into it?’
‘I have no choice.’
‘Of course you have a choice. You can walk away right this minute. I’ll come with you if you want.’
‘No, you don’t understand.’
‘Then help me to.’
I look up at the sky, realising for the first time that it is a beautiful day. A lovely day for getting married.
‘I have to do this. It’s the only way.’
‘You’re still not making sense.’
‘If I don’t marry him, good things won’t happen.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I just do.’
I see the realisation on her face, can hear the click somewhere inside her head.
‘Are you seeing the posts again?’
She thinks I’m ill. It’s what everyone will think if I don’t go through with it. Jess Mount, she’s not right in the head. Never has been. Well, not since . . .
‘No,’ I say sharply.
‘Do you love him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does he love you?’
‘Yes.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
I swallow hard. She doesn’t realise I am talking about Harrison. ‘It’s hard. That’s all.’
‘Is it pre-wedding nerves getting to you?’
‘Yeah. I guess so. I’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
I nod as I wipe my eyes. Sadie squeezes my shoulders one last time and lets go.
‘Well, thank fuck for that, because I’ve bought a new outfit and everything.’
I manage to smile through the tears.
‘I’ve even got a hat,’ she adds.
‘But you don’t suit hats. You said so yourself.’
‘I know. But I figured it wouldn’t matter because everyone will be looking at you anyway so I may as well go a bit crazy.’
I shake my head. ‘I love you, crazy lady.’
‘Don’t get emotional on me, either. I’m saving my tears for later.’
I take the envelope out of my pocket and hand it to her.
‘What’s this?’
‘Keep it somewhere safe. Only open it if something bad happens to me.’
‘Come on, Jess. I thought we’d just gone through this?’
‘It’s all I’m asking of you. It will make me feel better if you take it. Please.’
She takes it and puts it in her jacket pocket.
‘Thank you. Just remember that this is my choice and you couldn’t have talked me out of it, OK?’
She shrugs. We walk back along the canal together in silence.
*
I can’t say I don’t recognise the person who stares back at me from the mirror, because I do. I recognise her from the photograph on Facebook. She has the same hair and make-up, the same dress, the same uncertainty in her eyes. I know her now. I understand that she is doing what she has to do. I take a last look around my bedroom. So many memories, good and bad. But I am burying Jess Mount along with them. Today is a fresh start. It’s about new beginnings. A new life.
Dad starts crying pretty much the second he sees me on the stairs.
‘Oh, come on,’ I say. ‘You’re going to mess up my make-up if you do that.’
He smiles and wipes his face. ‘You look so beautiful.’
‘I’ve got my DMs on underneath.’
‘You better not have.’
I lift my dress to show him I’m joking – I am wearing proper bridal shoes. Why anyone bothers with such things I do not know, but Angela insisted.
He kisses me on both cheeks when I get to the bottom of the stairs. His eyes drop to my choker.
‘It’s perfect,’ he says.
‘I know,’ I reply, touching it gently.
‘If you feel you need her at any point, just remember she is with you.’
I nod. A car pulls up outside. A white limo, to be precise. I look at Dad.
‘Honestly, it would have been fine to go in your car,’ I say.
‘No,’ he replies. ‘This is your day, I wanted to make this bit extra special.’
‘Thank you,’ I say. He paid for this. I know because Lee told me. He paid for the food too. I asked Lee to let him, not wanting to dent a father’s pride.
When Dad opens the door there are other people outside in the street. Old ladies who used to say hello to Mum when we were walking to and from school. Kids on their bikes. The guy from the chippy. A few people I vaguely remember from Mum’s funeral. They break into a round of applause. I smile because I don’t know what else to do.
The driver comes round and opens the door. I gather up my dress and get inside, like I do this every day, like I know what I’m doing. Dad sits down next to me and holds my hand. He gives it a little squeeze.
‘I wish she was here for you today,’ he whispers.
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘I do too.’
*
The car sweeps around the little roundabout with the fountain in the middle and comes to a halt outside the main entrance of the hotel. This is it. There is no going back. If I step onto the red carpet which runs up to the entrance, my life will go in one direction; if I ask the driver to take me back home, it will go in another. One without H in it.
Dad gives my hand another squeeze.
‘Ready?’ he asks.
I nod. I fix the photo of Harrison in my head. I am doing this for him. I cannot bear the thought of him not existing, of losing my child before he is even conceived, let alone born. And if that means I am risking my life in the process, then so be it. I choose him. I choose my son. And I trust Sadie to fight to get him back to my Dad if she needs to.
I step out of the car. My legs are a little shaky. Dad comes around and takes hold of my arm, for which I am grateful. Marie, the wedding coordinator, is hovering at the top of the steps, beaming at me.
‘Hello,’ she says. ‘You look amazing. Everyone’s in the room waiting.’
‘I’m not late am I?’
‘No, bang on time. If you follow me, I’ll take you through to the room and let the registrar know you’re here.’
I sweep through the hotel behind her, my dress rustling, my toes clinging desperately to my bridal shoes, which are half a size too big for me. I have taken this path now. I can’t deviate from it. Maybe I am effectively walking to the gallows. Or maybe it is still possible to get a last-minute reprieve. The fact that so much of it has proved true so far doesn’t mean it all will. Perhaps I do still have the power to change the ending . . .
We stop outside the doors to the room. I can hear the murmur of voices inside before the music starts up. The doors open. It is my cue to enter. My feet don’t move, though. I am paralysed from the neck down. Only my head is working; my eyes see the man I love standing at the front of the room, my ears hear my screams as he kills me, and my brain aches as it tries to work out which one to believe.
I start to shake again.
‘Are you OK?’ Dad whispers.
I nod as a tear rolls slowly down my cheek.
‘I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you fall.’
Dad’s grip on my arm tightens. I lift my other hand to touch my choker. She is here. She is with me. She understands what I must do. And she will be waiting for me at the other side.
I start walking. When I glance sideways, I see that Dad is crying too. His grip on my arm never falters, though. I am aware of heads turning, but I don’t see the faces of the guests – only a hat, which I presume to be Sadie’s because she is the only person I know who would
wear a huge black hat to a wedding. I hear vague, murmured oohs and aahs, but I am not sure who they’re coming from. My eyes are fixed on the man standing at the front of the room. The man who is growing nearer and nearer. My fate. My destiny. My lover. My killer. And soon to be my husband. He turns his head as I reach him and smiles. He mouths the word ‘beautiful’ to me. My heart judders, careering between love and hate. I feel myself falling. I put my hand out to save myself. He takes it and holds it. The registrar begins talking. Sand is running out of the bottom of my shoes. Just a trickle, but it has begun.
Marriage in this country is the union of two people, voluntarily entered into.
I am doing this voluntarily. I am offering myself up for slaughter. I am Aslan at the Stone Table in Narnia.
. . . solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to make.
I am brave and I am strong. It is my turn to speak now. My turn to roar.
I do solemnly declare that I know not of any legal impediment, why I, Jessica Mount, may not be joined in matrimony to Lee Griffiths.
It is a lie, of course. I know of one very good reason. But I cannot speak it here. I must accept my death with dignity.
I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Jessica Mount, do take thee, Lee Griffiths, to be my lawful wedded husband.
There, I have done it. It wasn’t too bad. It didn’t hurt at all. I am still here, still breathing – just. We are pronounced husband and wife. Lee is leaning in to kiss me. I close my eyes. I see H’s face smiling back at me. It won’t be long now until he is inside me. Not long at all.
PRIVATE MESSAGE
Angela Griffiths
09/01/2018 10:34am
He did not do it. Although I don’t need to tell you that because you know it already. It’s the others who need to hear it. The ones who will listen to the lies and swallow them whole. It is innocent until proven guilty in this country. At least, it is supposed to be. But people are talking already. Pointing and whispering. Making such a silly fuss about nothing.
It is their fault, of course. Emma and that silly friend of yours. Cooking up a story between them like a couple of modern-day witches. I have no idea why the police have taken them so seriously. They will get found out, of course, when we have our day in court. When all of these claims are proved to be a tissue of lies.
You know exactly what happened, Jess. Because, unlike them, you were there.
Jess
Sunday, 10 July 2016
I put my phone down quickly as Lee comes back in from the en suite, hoping he doesn’t notice the confusion in my eyes.
‘Hey, I told you, no phones on honeymoon.’ I am taken aback by the sharpness in his voice.
‘I didn’t know it had started yet.’
‘It started from the moment I put the ring on your finger. Here, please.’ I am still not sure if he is being serious or not. I hand it over anyway. He turns it off and packs it away in one of the cases, one that will not be going with us.
‘That’s a bit much.’
There is a steeliness in Lee’s eyes, but it softens slightly when he sees me frowning at him. He comes over and sits on the bed.
‘I don’t want anything getting in the way of spending time with you, that’s all.’
‘When are you going to tell me where we’re going?’
‘When we check in. But wherever it is, you won’t be needing your phone.’
‘Your mum’s been posting wedding photos on Facebook already.’
‘Doesn’t surprise me. She needs to get a life.’
‘Your dad won’t find out, will he? Through anyone else, I mean.’
‘Nah. And if he does, it doesn’t matter. It’s too late now.’
‘Do you not get on at all?’
Lee shakes his head. ‘He spoilt everything he touched. We had nothing in common. Nothing at all.’
He comes over and kisses me on the lips. ‘Anyway, Mrs Griffiths, you’d better get your arse in gear. There’s a massive breakfast to eat downstairs and then a plane to catch.’
It’s weird, going into the hotel dining room and seeing everyone again. My grandparents, aunts and cousins from Italy are still here. I feel bad because I hardly got the chance to talk to them last night. Lee kept whisking me off to dance or introduce me to one of his family or friends. They will be staying on for a few days though, so at least Dad will have them around after I’ve left. It should make things easier for him. And Mum’s sister Sarah is still here too. She’d been hoping to bring Grandma Mary up from the nursing home in Devon, but she’d been too poorly to travel in the end.
Auntie Sarah comes over to me and takes hold of my hands.
‘What a wonderful day it was yesterday. I’ve taken lots of photos to show your grandma.’
‘Thank you,’ I say, giving her a hug. I turn to introduce Lee properly to her, but he’s gone over to talk to Angela.
‘You seem to have got yourself quite a catch there,’ Auntie Sarah says. ‘And he’s obviously besotted with you.’
I swallow hard and look down at my feet. All I can think of are the sad emojis she puts on all of Dad’s posts after I’ve gone. No doubt she will feel guilty, too. She’ll think she should have been looking after me on Mum’s behalf. I see Dad waving and beckoning me over to the Italian enclave.
‘Anyway, I’d better go and see Dad,’ I say.
‘You had. He’s really going to miss you.’
‘I know.’
Lee and I leave straight after breakfast in a blur of tears and hugs and shouts of ‘Have a great time!’ Sadie comes up and gives me a massive hug.
‘Have fun. I’ll miss you,’ she says.
‘I’d do the chucking the flowers over my shoulder thing,’ I say. ‘But I know you hate stuff like that.’
‘Too right,’ she says.
‘I’d have thrown them in your direction if I had, though,’ I tell her.
I save Dad until last. He’s hanging back, probably dreading it as much as I am. I can’t see his eyes because he has shades on, but I suspect he’s blinking furiously. Finally, the people around him step back and part, leaving him standing there, seemingly unable to look me in the eye. I throw my arms around him as he sobs into my hair. He smells so familiar, so unquestionably good. His grip loosens eventually, and he takes my head in his hands.
‘Be happy,’ is all he manages to say, before the tears overcome him again. I see Nonna put her arm around him; she’s crying too. I try not to think about how they will be at my funeral.
I feel a hand on my shoulder.
‘Ready?’ asks Lee. The same question I was asked yesterday. Only this time I am asked by my husband instead of my father. I nod and get into the car.
*
It is only once we are on the plane that I confess I’m not even totally sure where the Seychelles are. Lee laughs and asks the air hostess for a napkin so he can draw me a map.
‘We’re stopping over in an airport hotel in Abu Dhabi tonight. Do you know what the main difference is between Dubai and Abu Dhabi?’
‘No,’ I reply.
‘The people in Dubai don’t watch The Flintstones but the people in Abu Dhabi do.’
It takes a second for it to click, but when it does my face breaks into a smile, quickly followed by a full-blown laugh.
I elbow him in the ribs. ‘I thought you were being serious,’ I say. ‘I was feeling all inferior in the geography department again.’
‘You should know me better than that by now.’
‘Yeah,’ I reply, gazing up at him. ‘I should.’
‘Anyway, it’s fourteen hours flying time in total and we’ll get there tomorrow morning. But it’ll be worth it, I promise.’
I’m not so sure. It is way further than I have ever flown before. I try not to let him see I am gripping the side of my
seat with my other hand.
He notices though, and squeezes my palm more tightly. ‘You’ll be fine. I won’t let go all the way. I promise.’
‘Even when they bring the food?’
‘Even then. However messy it gets.’
I smile at him, feeling myself soften inside. I did do the right thing. It’s hard to believe how close I was to screwing it all up.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
‘For what?’
‘For caring.’
He kisses the top of my head. ‘That’s OK. It’s my job.’
*
I gaze out of the aeroplane window the next morning as we descend onto a landing strip that juts out from the edge of the island into the sea, with heavily wooded hills on the other side. I am so taken by the beauty of the place that I don’t even feel anxious about the landing. It is only as we touch down that Lee finally lets go of my hand.
‘See, it wasn’t too bad, was it?’
‘No. No, it wasn’t.’
A boat is waiting to take us to Silhouette Island, where we are staying. It makes sense that I am no longer Jess Mount. Jess Mount didn’t do things like this. Jess Mount lived in Mytholmroyd, scrabbled around for popcorn on the cinema floor and sometimes ate cold pizza for breakfast on a Sunday morning. Jess Griffiths appears to live in an entirely different universe – one where she jets around the world to an island where the sea is so blue it doesn’t actually look real, and the man who is holding her hand looks like a cut-out-and-keep husband from some teenage magazine.
Lee kisses me on the back of my neck; a warm breeze caresses my face. I choose this life. And maybe, if I can learn to relax and simply enjoy it, it will turn out to be a long and happy one.
The boat glides into a small jetty. A barefoot man jumps out and ties it up. Somebody else is unloading our luggage and Lee is taking my hand and leading me up the jetty onto a beach so white it dazzles my eyes. In front of us are clusters of holiday villas nestled amongst the trees. We follow the man with our luggage up some steep steps to a villa on its own, with a waterfall cascading into a pool at one end and two sun loungers looking out across the sea at the other. I turn to Lee in disbelief. He smiles. The man leads us on through two sliding doors into a room so big they’ve fitted a lounge into it as well. The huge canopied bed has lace curtains tied at each bedpost. I look around me, still unable to speak.