Julia ate her untouched breakfast and shared a vivid account of their bedroom explorations, leaving Harry with mental images that alarmed her. “What about you?” Julia prompted her, “stop looking so dreamy and tell me what happened, I’ve been worried about you.”
“It was amazing,” she paused, even with her closest friend, the limitations of her paralysis were painful to verbalise, “let’s just say that he’s very good with his mouth and his hands, and I seem to have much more sensation than I thought.”
"I don't mean the practicalities honey, I know I've been telling you stuff, but that's just because I can't believe it's happening to me."
“He made me feel beautiful, and sexy.” She smiled at her friend and explained the glorious and unexpected feeling of being able to look at her own hips and legs without feeling embarrassed, she had seen herself reflected through his desire, and for the first time she had tentatively imagined buying trousers that did more than obscure her delicate limbs.
Julia hugged her then, and they walked out to her little green car and argued comfortably about the best line to finish their latest song for the band. Chris arrived with sushi after work, she was so pleased that he found himself filled with a level of performance anxiety that he had not previously envisaged. He woke up early to look through her cookery books and spent the rest of the week detouring to the deluxe supermarket on the edge of town.
His first thought when he woke up on Saturday was relief, him and Mike were going jogging then buying meat for a final autumn barbecue. He had loved the look on her face as she enjoyed his repertoire of food, but the thought of beer and sausages was fantastic, and he couldn’t help pulling her out of her pyjamas and savouring the sound of her pleasure. He had rehearsed a hundred ways of telling her that he loved her, and he hoped that she realised that he said it better with his hands.
Chapter thirteen
Harry was surprised when her parents offered their house for the wedding. Julia appeared to have learned less about the human body than even her closest friends had suspected, and the preparations had been both joyous and very rushed. Mike appeared quietly terrified, particularly after an evening alone with Julia’s father, an evening he never made reference to.
Chris was equally surprised to be the best man, Mike explained that he could not possibly choose between his loyal cohort of computer programmers, and Chris organised an astonishingly successful weekend for him and found himself enjoying computer games far more than he had expected. Distractedly, he packed the morning suit chosen for him by Julia, and wondered if he would be able steal a moment with Harry. Since the weekend of Julia’s announcement, their time alone had been far too limited for his liking, and he found that he did not sleep at all well without her in his arms.
He collected Mike from his flat and followed the motorway out of town that Harry had suggested. She had been at her parent’s house for most of the past week, and their brief conversations had been filled with lengthy accounts of flowers and table settings. He realised that he had been looking forward to seeing her so much that his old anxieties were creeping back, and he wondered how he would ever manage to say the words he wanted to.
A fine layer of snow was settling on the trees and also the remote country road. The atmosphere in the car was slightly tense, Mike was a terrible navigator and his vivid insight into his pre-wedding nerves was alarming. His slightly repetitive discussion of his shotgun nuptials and approaching fatherhood felt uncharacteristically insensitive, Chris knew that if he was about to marry Harry, then he would be the happiest man alive. The roads got smaller and the houses got bigger and finally disappeared altogether behind an enormous series of walls. They stopped at particularly imposing set of iron gates and Mike got out and spoke into the buzzer. He recognised the house from the news footage; big expanses of ivy, chimneys and elegant wings. He pulled up beside Julia’s little green car and they unpacked in silence.
A man his late thirties in a dark suit opened the door, he greeted them by name in a strong Scottish accent and lead them through to the lounge before disappearing to make drinks. Harry was wearing an elegant dress that swept almost to her feet, she greeted them warmly, but with an edge of formality and introduced them to her cousin Helen and Julia’s aunt and uncle. Chris sat down next to Libby, and was pleased when she touched his arm in greeting. He watched the interplay of people in the room, the way Harry kept the conversation flowing, and the gentle and generous way she shared information about herself. He learned that her cousin was cataloguing the enormous library, and that she had a stutter and tended to communicate very succinctly. Harry drew the people around her into the conversation, but the spotlight was never far from her.
The butler appeared with more drinks, then announced Mike’s parents and his younger sister. Mike had been worried about how his family would react, and the reality was far worse than he had imagined. His mother had watched all of the recent coverage of the fundraiser and the accident and she relayed her knowledge in vivid detail. They followed Harry through to the dining room and into a bewildering array of cutlery and glasses, he watched her smile into an endless series of questions, feeling the old protectiveness even on the eve of his wedding. He knew her well enough now to know the subtle signs of strain, she ate less than usual and her dark eyes were unreadable.
Drinks were served in yet another room and Mike stepped outside of his discomfort and looked at the excitement and the pleasure in his mother’s eyes. Julia had told him repeatedly that this ceremony was for everyone and he felt angry with himself for being embarrassed by the people that loved him. They had adjusted to a lot of changes in his life in the past couple of months and if he was lucky enough to have a friend who could add some magic then he knew he should simply be grateful. All the same he was relieved when the night ended and the quiet butler showed them all to their rooms.
Julia sat down close beside the man she loved and handed him a map. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she said with a grin, and Mike floated after his family and thought about his astonishing good fortune.
Chris took a step closer to Harry, and looked pleadingly at her sister, “Two minutes,” Libby said with a grin, and he smiled his thanks and looked down at the lovely woman.
“You look exhausted.”
“Thanks Chris, I’ve missed your flattering lines.”
“I just don’t have your calm way with words, you could talk your way out of a hurricane. Sometimes I wonder if anything affects you.”
Harry looked up at him then she took a mouthful of coffee, lifting up the cup with both hands. “I’m not made of stone,” she said softly.
He opened his mouth, wanting to explain how he felt, wanting to hold her in his arms, but his two minutes were up, and he followed the quiet Scotsman up the big sweeping staircase. “Do you know Harry well?” Chris asked him.
The big man stopped and looked at him. “You don’t really expect me to answer that do you?”
“I guess not, I just find it hard to follow her sometimes.”
“Perhaps you should talk to her rather than me.”
“I keep trying, but whenever I’m around her I can barely think.”
The butler smiled at him and opened the door to his bedroom, “I can’t say I blame you.” He said softly.
Harry had swapped her coffee for a glass of wine and the lounge for the big bed where she had spent so much of her adolescence. Libby and Helen were sitting on the bed looking at her, and Harry remembered hours of card games and board games and book reading with the two women who had been such loyal childhood companions. “Your verdict?” she asked.
“Well he’s gorgeous.” Libby told her, and Helen nodded.
“His gorgeousness is not in question. In fact it’s the one thing that’s never been in question. I’d just like some idea of what was going on in that gorgeous head of his.”
“Why?” Helen asked.
“You know what Harry is like, she spent her whole childhood reading everything in that l
ibrary and now she’s looking for someone who looks like a Greek god and talks like the boy who did your homework.”
“That’s not fair, most of the time I’d be happy if he just said anything even slightly positive.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes but you don’t say weirdly negative things either. He’s just a bit difficult to understand, he drives all the way up here, then behaves in an oddly cold fashion.”
“He’s probably feeling out of his depth honey, and you were doing a fantastic impression of mother.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I’m always on your side.”
“I know,” she took another mouthful of wine, “it would just be so lovely if he could just give me a bit of reassurance.”
“You’ve always got us.” Libby said gently, while Helen found the pack of cards in the same place as it always was.
There was a knock on the door, and Lady Caroline and her husband appeared in the room. “I’m sorry about the wheelchair,” Harry said apologetically, “my arm is just not up to the crutches yet.”
“It’s okay Harriet.” Her mother said, she took a step closer to the bed. “Can we throw you two out for a moment?” she added.
Harry watched their departure in silence, it had been a long time since she had been alone with her parents, the argument about her taking the job at the hospital had weighed heavily on their already strained relationship. Lady Caroline took another step towards the bed, she looked for a moment as though she was going to touch her daughter’s face, then she stiffly crossed her arms.
“Darley’s mother phoned us in tears, it seems he has decided to be honest about everything, why didn’t you tell us what he had done to you at university?”
Harry closed her eyes, since his re-arrest, she had been able to put the man out of her mind, “I thought you wanted me marry him.”
“My beautiful little Harry,” her mother said softly, “I know I don’t say it very often, but you make me very proud.” Harry hid her disbelief very convincingly, she didn’t think her mother had ever said that. “Tell us about your doctor darling.” Her mother added, and just for a second Harry thought that she tears brimming in her eyes.
“He’s a surgeon mother, he’s rather brilliant in the operating theatre, and he plays rugby. Also, he doesn’t mind about my legs.”
“Is he going to marry you?”
“I don’t know mother.”
The elegant woman stood over her for a moment longer then she swept back out of the room with her husband on her heels. Harry took another mouthful of wine and wondered how her mother could make her feel so wretched in such a small space of time. Libby and Helen returned and she buried her head in her sister’s arms and cried until she fell asleep.
The sound of an animal call pulled Harry out of a dream where Chris was finally telling her his feelings. The lonely reality of her childhood bedroom stung further tears from her eyes. It unsettled her that she already missed him so intensely and she slid out of bed, deciding that a hot chocolate might make her feel better. She realised how long it had been since she had made her own drinks at night, and the memory of Chris dressed only in his pyjama trousers, all definition and tender blue eyes slid under her defences. The light was on in the lounge and she smiled to herself, imagining Mike pacing and panicking. She thought of supportive things to say, then felt a tingle when she saw Chris' long lean form stretched out on a sofa. She reached out and touched his face, and he opened his eyes and smiled at her. “I’ve missed waking up with you.” he said softly, then his eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay honey?”.
“It's just a bit difficult to come back.” She felt the tears sliding down her face again and moved closer to him. “Sorry,” she added awkwardly, “I'm so glad you've come and I know you're not having much fun.”
“I just want to be close to you,” he said simply, “I came downstairs just in case I'd find you here, I was missing our hot chocolate tradition.”
She smiled at him, and for the first time since he arrived, he saw genuine pleasure in her eyes. “I've been missing it too.”
“How are the preparations going?”
“Well it's a challenge, the bride is expanding, the groom keeps rewriting the vows, and Helen's horse ate most of the table decorations.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I know,” she paused then added with a shy smile, “I'm missing Julia, usually we get to talk about everything, but she's so preoccupied. All she can focus on is Mike and the baby.”
Chris held her hand and looked at her expressive face, he could see the tentative trust in her eyes. He knew how private she was and he felt dizzy at the prospect of this gentle insight. “It sounds like you've got some worries,” he said finally.
She grinned at him, acknowledging his careful attempt, then she closed her eyes and trusted him. “I told Julia I didn't want to be her bridesmaid, Olivia is desperate for the part, and every time I think about the logistics I cringe.”
“The logistics?”
“Well Julia wants me to carry her bridal train, so that means Lib is pushing my chair. When I asked Julia if she would reconsider her choice she cried for an entire day. So I'm going to do it, but I know I'll look ridiculous.”
“No you won't,” he said softly, “you'll look beautiful and regal and elegant, and I'm going to kiss you in front of everyone because I'm incredibly proud to be here with you.”
“Thank you.” She felt the tears starting to slide again and held his hand very tightly.
“Tell me what you need.” he said, “I would give you anything you wanted.”
She smiled at him, remembering when she had used those words, and hearing his careful apology. She wanted to ask him if he loved her, if he would commit himself to her and share his life and his heart and try for a baby with her. But the prospect of her lonely public journey down the aisle had knocked her confidence, and she couldn't bear any more bruises with the ghosts of her childhood crowding her.
“A back massage,” she said softly.
“Of course beautiful.” He followed her back up to her bedroom, carefully remembering the route. He had hated not knowing where she was in this intimidating mansion.
Her bedroom was a book lined sanctuary, and the reality of her confined adolescence intensified the protectiveness in his heart. He sat down beside her on the bed and gently unbuttoned her shirt. He was acutely aware of what had been taken from her in this room, and he shut down his intense attraction for her, keeping his touch intimate, but without the searing shared sexuality that still took his breath away. Gently he helped to get comfortable, he could feel her self-consciousness undermining the physical closeness they were starting to share and it made him ache for her that the friend she loved so much was forcing her to face so many demons.
Her shoulders were knotted and sore, and slowly, carefully he soothed away her pain and her tension and smiled when he heard her breathing change. He wanted to climb into bed and hold her tightly, but he was pretty sure the rules of this complex family would not support that. So he savoured the sight of her lovely profile and pulled up the covers around her throat. Then he looked up at intimidating array of literature on her shelves and thought about the words he was trying to say to her. How could the man who had spent the best part of his life discussing rugby find the right way to tell an elegant educated woman that he loved her? He couldn’t think of an answer and he walked back down the corridors and didn’t look too closely at the shadowy suit of armour that he passed.
Harry woke up feeling better than she had done all week. She felt a hand gently squeezing her arm, and she opened her eyes and smiled in surprise when she saw Julia looking at her. “Hey,” Julia said softly, “sorry to wake you, I just wanted us to have a moment alone together.” She squeezed her friends hand took a breath. “How are you feeling Harry?”
“How are you feeling? This is your day.”
“I know, and I can’t quite believe it. I do
n't want it to change everything for us. I mean know loads of things are changing and they’re going to keep changing, but I really couldn’t do it without you, and I'm really sorry I've been such an evil princess this week.” She moved closer to Harry and touched her face. “The thing is I'm so proud of you. So proud to be able to say you're my best friend, and I just wish you could see yourself as I see you.” She paused and added unsteadily. “Tell me that you want to be doing this with me? Even just a little bit.”
“Oh honey of course I do, I just wish I was on my feet.
“I love you the way you are Harry, I've never known you any other way. Now let's get dressed so I can watch you drink champagne.”
At the other end of the old house Chris pulled on his expensive suit. He didn’t stop to look at the way his shoulders filled his jacket or the mesmerising contours of his trousers, but he did straighten his tie before he slipped out into the daunting hallway and tried to remember the way to her bedroom.
Harry was examining her appearance in her bridesmaids dress with rather more care. She still had mixed feelings about her highly visible role in the proceedings, but she replayed the words Chris had told her, holding them close to her heart. If Julia only wanted one person in this hurried version of the happiest day of her life, then she was going to be brave.
Chris knocked tentatively on the door, and felt short of breath. The first thing he noticed was her face and then her dress, the pale colours accentuating her skin and her eyes. She made him think of wood nymphs and Greek legends, and he ached to take her in his arms.
“Hi,” he said softly, and watched her smile catch her eyes.
“Wow Chris, you look hotter than usual.” Olivia said appreciatively, and offered him a glass of champagne. He was holding the long stemmed translucent elegance when the penetrating voice of Julia's father echoed through the house. The man with military bearing stepped loudly into the room, flanked by Harry’s parents.
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