by Lynda Renham
There is a loud rapping on the door and I fall off the toilet seat.
‘Bels, are you okay in there? We ought to get going.’
Shit, Christian. I clamber up and check my reflection in the mirror.
‘Sorry Kaz, I have got to go, I’ll see you soon.’
‘Don’t forget,’ she shouts, ‘Rich, handsome, reliable, eligible and responsible. Your whole future is on this and…’
I turn the phone off and open the door to a concerned Christian. He is frowning and holding a chocolate bar. He looks me up and down.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asks, pulling the wrapper off.
I nod.
‘Yes, I think I am in the doghouse because I may not make the wedding rehearsal.’
He pulls a face.
‘Why are you having a wedding rehearsal? Surely getting married should be spontaneous shouldn’t it, not rehearsed? I mean, you don’t rehearse your funeral do you?’
I watch him walk ahead of me and mentally tick the all-important list. Rich? I frown. Probably rich in debts, but does money really matter I ask myself, after all I earn a good salary at Versity. Yes, but what about when you have children, what then? I sigh. Handsome, I can tick that box, easily, reliable he certainly has been. Eligible he definitely is not, although he has been hinting that things are not good with Claudine. Responsible, well I have to admit he probably is not. I am shaking my head when he turns to look at me.
‘There is something the matter isn’t there? Would you prefer we went straight to Rome?’
He is offering me a piece of chocolate which I accept eagerly. There is no doubt that chocolate heals all ills.
‘It’s fine,’ I say smiling and taking the map he hands me. Of course, it is far from fine, but I am really past any stage of caring.
Kaz
‘Simon tells me, you’re not married?’
Christ almighty, blunt or what? What makes women of a certain age think they can just boldly march up to you and probe into your love life? How would she like it if I boldly asked her about her sex life? I really could not imagine us discussing vaginal dryness over a glass of wine. From the look of her sour face I imagine she has had vaginal dryness most of her married life. Frigidity seems to become her.
‘That’s right. Tried it once, found it a bit limiting. You know, only one man in your bed and all that.’
She tries to hide her embarrassment, and I lay a hand on her arm.
‘I’m only kidding,’ I say quickly, realising the last thing I need is for Simon’s mother to get upset.
She doesn’t smile. Unless you call the slight turning up of the corners of her mouth a smile. God, where the fuck is Bels? Lunch with this lot feels rather like waiting for a funeral. Alex waves to me from the corner of the small dining room and I start to head over to her when Simon strides in, his face ashen. Oh God, what’s happened?
‘Simon, what on earth is the matter?’ asks his mother before I open my mouth.
He inclines his head to me, and I quickly follow him outside.
‘Bels just phoned me. It looks like she isn’t going to make the rehearsal,’ he says flexing his neck and unclenching his jaw.
‘What the fuck. Where the hell is she?’
He shakes his head and looks so desperate that I want to put my arms around him. Now, that would have his mother talking.
‘I’ve no idea but I just snapped at her. She may phone you. Try and get her to see sense for Christ’s sake and try and find out what the hell is going on.’
I squeeze his arm softly.
‘I guess she is dependent on these people that are bringing her.’
Why do I not bloody believe this for a second?
He sighs heavily.
‘Whatever. I’m going to make some excuse to everyone.’
I follow him back in and wait for Kitty’s little gasp which is a cross between a scream and a sigh.
‘Oh for goodness sake,’ bellows Alex’s husband Tom and puts a protective arm around Alex who clutches her stomach. Simon’s mother nods knowingly. Oh yes, she is thinking. I knew this girl was nothing but trouble. Hopefully my son will see sense soon. I watch as she whispers into his ear. What a poisonous bitch. Although, I really can’t understand what the hell Bels is playing at.
‘I find it very confusing dear, why is it, she cannot get here for her own wedding?’
Oh, she has a knack does his mother. That bloody husky voice of hers with just a trace of an accent really grinds on me. Why the hell she is wearing a cocktail dress is beyond me. Bloody hell, it was only lunch and she is dressed head to toe in Balenciaga. Kitty rushes up to us, phrase book in hand. God not again. Why does she not grasp the fact that we are all talking bloody English? I really don’t think this is one of those bloody conversations that the sodding phrase book will cover and deliberately knock it out of her hand. We all watch it fall with a plonk into the tureen of soup which still sits on the table. Simon’s father winks at me.
‘Oh fuck, sorry Mrs Lewis.’
She cringes and I blush furiously.
‘Oh shit, I mean…’
‘Perhaps best not to speak at all dear,’ says Julian.
‘I don’t know what you’re confused about Mum. It’s difficult for her not being able to get a flight and she feels terrible not being here,’ Simon says firmly but I hear his voice crack. Poor bugger. I envision many hands around Bels’ throat when she finally does get here. I nod in agreement with him and then quickly excuse myself when my phone shrills. Thank God. It is Bels, and she’s sitting in a supermarket loo of all places. I mean, what the fuck? I see Simon straining to see me from the window. He looks devastated poor bugger. Why does she not see what she has in him? He is being so bloody patient with her. I turn away so he cannot see my face. I cannot believe she has met some wide boy.
‘What the fuck Bels, you are getting married tomorrow.’
She doesn’t hear a word of what I am saying. She is sobbing so much I barely make out what she is saying. It seems pretty clear though that this guy she met has a lot in common with her. Christ, what can I do to convince her that a wide boy is the last thing she needs now? Just as I think I may be getting somewhere she hangs up. Bloody hell Bels, what the fuck are you up to? Here is a guy I would give my eye teeth to be with and of course he barely notices me. You treat him like crap and still he waits patiently for you. Love sure is a crazy thing.
Chapter Twelve
The vineyard is further away than we had anticipated and, to make matters worse, we got lost, well that is, I got us lost. I was busy opening the pack of poppy crackers and didn’t see our turning. I swear I have eaten in two days the sum total of all the food I would normally eat in a week. Visions of not being able to get into my wedding dress are pushed to the back of my mind every time my hand reaches for food. The Lemon travels effortlessly through the beautiful scenic wine country of Chianti Classico, and I lift my face to the sun. The narrow roads are lined with Cypress trees and I sigh at the beauty of quintessential Tuscany. We approach a medieval village and Christian smiles.
‘Chateau de Velaruse should come into view soon.’
When it does I gasp at the sight of the majestic building standing at the top of the hill. The chateau looks like something from a Disney cartoon with medieval round towers capped with tall cones. I would not be surprised if Shrek were to pop his head out of one of the windows to welcome us to the castle.
‘Well done my little Citroën,’ he says proudly tapping the dashboard.
‘Do you think Claudine will like the Lemon?’ I say without thinking.
We stop at the chateau.
'No, she hates it when I spend money on myself, especially if she is not with me. Claudine prefers to spend my money on her.’
His lips have tightened, and I see his jaw twitch and then within seconds he has changed again and is smiling.
‘Right, here we are, let’s taste some wine then.’
A man wearing dungarees and a loose shirt is
approaching us.
‘Buon giorno. Buon giorno. You must be the British couple, excellent. Come in, come in. Welcome to Chateau de Velaruse.’
He strides towards us, and Christian shakes his hand warmly.
‘Ah, this is the wife, how are you.’
He shakes my hand vigorously.
‘Actually, I am not…’
‘Don’t spoil his fun,’ Christian whispers in my ear. ‘You have been elevated from fiancée to wife, well done,’ he grins at me.
‘I’m a quick worker, expect to be divorced tomorrow,’ I whisper back.
‘And I expect you will take me for every penny,’ he responds sidling closer to me.
‘You really can’t afford me,’ I reply while still smiling at our host.
Christian laughs out loud.
‘You have such a low opinion of me,’ he says draping an arm loosely around my shoulders. I give him a sharp look.
‘I’m being a protective husband,’ he smiles.
We walk into the house to be greeted by a rosy-cheeked woman, who I presume is the man’s wife. It is the first time I have been to a vineyard, and it is really fascinating. The man introduces himself as Luciano and proceeds to tell us all about his vineyard. I learn so much about wine that after just twenty minutes I am feeling quite ashamed at having bought so many cheap bottles back home in London. More than once I forget to spit the wine out as instructed by Luciano, but I notice that Christian usually does. At one point it dawns on me that one of us has to drive the Lemon to Rome but it is a very fleeting thought. By the time we get to wine ‘number eight’ I am feeling quite tipsy.
‘This is, of course, our pièce de résistance, Chianti Velaruse, this one you should really enjoy. A delicate wine with a hint of vanilla and raspberry and a little touch of black pepper. Wonderful with pasta,’ enthuses Luciano proudly.
He hands us both a glass. I watch as Christian lifts his glass to the light, sighs heavily and then swirls the wine ever so slightly. He gives me a ‘this is how you do it’ look then takes a long sniff from the glass, finally taking a noisy gulp. I mean, honestly, what a show off.
‘It is good, yes?’ Luciano asks.
Christian nods.
‘It is excellent; we must buy two of these.’
I widen my eyes.
‘We must?’
‘Here, try it,’ he coaxes. ‘It is actually the best yet.’
Luciano smiles and pats Christian on the back.
'I will let you stroll in the vineyard and then we carry on. Many people have told me, it is good for fertility to walk in my vineyard,’ he says with a wink.
I blush.
‘Wow, powerful vineyard,’ murmurs Christian.
I feel myself sway as we walk. The field slopes away from the chateau, trapping the sun between the vines. The air feels dense with humidity and the sounds of crickets in the surrounding trees buzz loudly in my head.
‘God, I think I’ve swallowed far too much,’ I say shaking my head and walking into a bush. He grabs my hand and pulls me along. I see a bench sitting in a small opening ahead of us. I make my way towards it and fall down gratefully. The view is breathtaking and I sigh contentedly. Christian sits beside me, uncaps a bottle of water and drinks half of it before handing it to me and stretching out on the bench.
‘So, in a matter of hours you will be getting married,’ he states flatly.
‘Yes,’ I agree softly.
He turns slightly in his seat so he is looking at me. I pretend not to notice and stare admiringly at the view.
‘Are you having second thoughts?’ he asks bluntly and I turn to look at him.
‘No. Should I be?’ I retort more sharply than I mean to.
He bites his lip, goes to speak and then turns away stretching his arms and reclining on the bench.
‘I have also swallowed too much wine,’ he says throwing his head back and yawning. ‘I just don’t think you respect this guy that much.’
I bite back a stinging reply and wonder if the swallowing too much wine is an excuse for his boldness because I am sure he did not.
‘How long have you known him?’
He looks at me again. I keep my head straight and continue enjoying the view. Every time I move my head the scene in front of me seems to spin. Oh God why is he suddenly so confrontational? I have managed to get this far without any discussion about Simon, why do we have to start now?
‘Shall we talk about Claudine as well?’ I snap back.
‘If you like,’ he replies softly.
Oh Jesus, this is not what I need.
‘What do you want to know about Claudine?’
‘Did some other man buy her a bracelet?’ I blurt out before I can stop myself.
He laughs and again I find my heart leap at the sound.
‘You’ve been reading my texts. No, she bought the bracelet with my credit card. I wasn’t thrilled. It was her way of punishing me. It wasn’t another man. I forgot our anniversary of being together for two years and so Claudine goes on a spending spree.’
He sighs, and I sneak a look at him. His hair is messy where he has run his hands through it. He turns and I look into his eyes.
‘What about your fiancé. All you keep telling me is that he is responsible. Is he fun as well?’
I clasp my hands together and picture Simon in my head. Simon at the Law Society dinner, Simon at the crazy birthday party Kaz had thrown, Simon in the cinema, fussing when I open a bag of popcorn.
‘No, he isn’t much fun,’ I answer truthfully. This is getting far too intense for me. I move to get up but he gently pushes me back down.
‘But you’re fun, so what are you doing with him?’
I turn sharply.
‘It is time I became responsible, and anyway who are you to ask me? I could say the same about you, why are you with Claudine?’ I snap, standing up and looking down at him.
He shrugs.
‘I really don’t think you want to be responsible, that’s all. As for Claudine, I don’t know to be honest with you. Her extravagant spending bothers me and sometimes I think we just drifted into getting engaged but then again I suppose we can’t all have what Olivia and Robin seem to have. I just felt she was the right one, but I don’t know…’ he trails off.
Well, you are wrong, I think stubbornly. I do want to be responsible and I do want to be married.
‘We should get back to Luciano and then get to Rome,’ I say straightening my dress.
He nods.
‘You mean I should mind my own business?’
I am saved from answering by Luciano approaching us.
‘My wife has made nice cake for us, please come.’
Oh no, not more sodding food. Oh what the hell. In a few hours I will be married and then all this eating will have to stop. I decide to make the most of it. We are served delicious fragrant coffee and the most fantastic chocolate cake with whipped cream. I carefully spoon the cake into my mouth and suppress a sigh. It is lovely and crisp on the outside and moist and fluffy on the inside. Luciano’s wife smiles at me and pours a small amount of raspberry sauce over it. Oh sheer bliss.
‘We are very pleased you arranged to come today,’ says Luciano grinning at us.
I look at Christian who looks away sheepishly.
‘Do you not have any other visitors today?’ I ask innocently.
I see Luciano glance at Christian.
‘They are actually closed this week darling,’ Christian says pouring more whipped cream onto his plate.
I shoot him a dirty look.
‘Oh really darling, I must have forgotten you telling me that sweetheart,’ I say with a Botox smile on my face.
He tries to hide his smile. I wait until Luciano and his wife clear the table and grab his arm before he can follow them into the kitchen.
‘Did you get them to open just for us? God, how much did you pay for that?’ I hiss.
He shrugs.
‘Not much, anyway we have enjoyed it haven’t
we? You are far too intense.’
‘You are far too extravagant and irresponsible.’
‘Ah thanks,’ he laughs and wanders outside. I exhale loudly and follow him.
‘Wanker, you have to pay it all back one day,’ I mumble.
‘You say the nicest things to me darling. Now, Luciano wants to take us down to his cellar so we can collect our purchases.’
Before I can answer he is walking off and I have to run to keep up with them. Bugger him. Thank God I will be free of him soon but the thought sends butterflies churning in my stomach. I have spent the past few days with him and the thought of him not being around seems a pretty miserable prospect. I leave him to collect his wine and sit waiting in the sunshine. I look at photos of Simon on my Blackberry and try to capture the warm feelings I had felt on my flight from London. I quickly glance at the picture of Christian and then delete it. Why on earth did I visit my mother? I decide I will stab her to death when I arrive in Rome and then strangle Kaz. Have they lost their minds telling me Simon is right for me? The man is as wrong as any man can be. Christian is quite right of course, I do not respect Simon. I mean, I slept with Christian for goodness sake. Okay, I didn’t have sex with him, but I certainly thought about it. The big question is can I tell Simon that I have changed my mind? Oh Jesus, if there was ever a throw up in your handbag time then it surely has to be now. This seriously has to be the worst time of my life. I begin to wonder if I could perhaps just not turn up for the wedding, but, of course, I can’t possibly do that. I have two hundred and fifty guests and a heavily pregnant maid of honour who will most likely stab me to death if I call it off. Of course, it may be easier to just stab myself to death. At least everyone will be there to attend my funeral. I look at the time on my Blackberry and realise that no way am I going to make the rehearsal, and for a moment wonder who Simon will get to stand in for me as I know he will not cancel it. I sigh and check my Versity emails. I busy myself answering them until I see Christian emerge from the house with Luciano. He is carrying a crate of wine. I shake my head and find myself smiling. Anyone else would have bought a couple of bottles but Christian, of course, buys a couple of crates.