Do No Harm

by L. V. Hay

  Maya’s usually blank, exhausted visage lit up at the sight of me. ‘You look gorgeous, Lil!’

  I smiled. Next to Maya, Denny carried a small cushion, the rings in a little pouch on top. He stared at it with concentration, his little arms high, like it was a tea tray. His gaze did not leave it, even when we drew up beside him.

  Maya dropped her voice to a murmur. ‘So, himself turned up, I heard?’

  Triss cut in before I could answer: ‘Gone now.’

  ‘I should bloody think so,’ Maya muttered.

  ‘Dad’s coming back later though!’ Denny declared in a sing-song voice, aware of whom we were discussing despite our best efforts. ‘He’s picking me up.’

  I ruffled his hair. ‘That’s right, sport. Now, you got the rings? You haven’t forgotten them, have you?’

  Denny shoved the little cushion towards me. ‘They’re right here!’

  ‘Silly me.’ I winked at him. ‘Now remember, even though I’m marrying Sebastian today, you’re still my top man, okay?’

  Denny shrugged, content and untroubled in the way only small children could be. ‘I know. Obviously.’

  ‘Well, that told you, Lil.’ Maya grabbed the double doors with both hands, in readiness to push them inwards. ‘Ready?’

  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Forget butterflies, I felt like I had a bellyful of eels. What if we opened these doors and Sebastian was not there? Or what if he changed his mind mid-ceremony? Which would be worse? I couldn’t decide.

  But I arrested these thoughts then banished them. Sebastian wouldn’t do that to me. He was my soulmate. He would never let me down. He wasn’t Maxwell.

  Denny, Maya and Triss all looked at me, expectant.

  ‘Ready,’ I said.

  Four

  The ceremony seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. Suddenly Sebastian was writing his name in the registrar’s book and there was Lily’s new name, next to his: Lily Adair. Sebastian felt a rush of pride. No more Lily Stevens. He felt ridiculous for being so pleased that she’d rejected her ex-husband’s name and taken his. Sebastian had tentatively floated the idea of changing Denny’s to Adair too, but Maxwell wouldn’t hear of it. They lived with Sebastian now though, not Maxwell. He could afford to throw Lily’s ex a bone or two, he supposed.

  The posed pictures on the lawn done, Sebastian shook the photographer’s hand and sent him on his way. Taking a moment for himself, Sebastian surveyed everything around him, hands in his pockets. In the skies overhead, dark clouds threatened and there was a nip in the air – typical May bank-holiday weather. Next to the white marquee an old bouncy castle shuddered and lurched from side to side as children jumped and shrieked on it. A couple of adults jumped with them, shoes off. On the marquee’s dance floor, Lily, still in her wedding dress, danced with Triss, Denny and some other children. He could hear the chords of an old rock number start up from the band behind them.

  It had been a perfect day.

  ‘Well, thank goodness that’s over with!’

  Irritation prickled through Sebastian as his mother appeared on the lawn next to him. He scowled at her.

  Fran lifted her vape to her painted lips, then expelled a cloud of blackberry-scented steam. ‘What?’ she said, laughing. ‘Oh, come on now, darling. You know that you and formal occasions don’t mix.’

  It was true, he’d always found formal occasions stressful, and as a result his inner jester always made an appearance. He could barely resist acting up. At school, he’d more often than not been excluded from prize-givings, meetings and even sports days. He’d spent many an hour as a child waiting outside the headmaster’s office for shouting rude words, singing and generally causing a ruckus whenever heads were bowed and traditions were supposed to be observed. He’d been immensely relieved that Lily had chosen a civil ceremony. If he’d had to stand in a church and observe the wedding rituals, Sebastian had worried he’d have re-enacted yanking another boy’s trousers down, exposing his friend’s buttocks to the choir.

  Any such thoughts had flown from his head on seeing his bride arrive in the Evesham Room.

  Lily had flashed him an uncertain smile as she came towards him and Sebastian had been surprised to find tears pricking his eyelids. Denny had wandered behind, his focus very much on the little cushion in his hands; so much so, he nearly fell flat on his face. Triss was wearing a pale-lime silk shift dress and wrap. Sebastian had to do a double-take when Triss appeared: she looked completely different, her hair down, make-up on and in formal attire. At work, she’d often turn up in jeans and he’d have to remind her about the dress code.

  ‘Yes sir!’ she’d say, giving him an insolent salute. The day after one of these tellings-off, she’d turned up in bright-orange harem pants, green sandals and a white T-shirt with a yellow smiley face. Sebastian had given up after that.

  At twenty-nine, Sebastian was one of the youngest primary-school head teachers in the country, with both Lily and Triss class teachers in the same school. Ever since he and Lily had announced they were engaged he’d had to suffer male colleagues complaining endlessly about the various excesses their wives had indulged in when organising their big day.

  Lily had been completely different though. In fact, it had been Sebastian who had wanted to spend more. Lily had barely looked at the luxury hotel and service brochures Sebastian brought home for her. ‘I just want to have a good party, with family and friends,’ she’d said.

  Sebastian was dubious at first. He was used to the women in his life claiming not to want a fuss, then condemning him when no fuss was made. His mother in particular was terrible for this. She’d always say she didn’t want anything for Mother’s Day or her birthday, then act offended when he took her at her word. ‘It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind,’ Fran would always say.

  ‘I would have paid, you know,’ Fran said now, interrupting his thoughts. ‘For the wedding, I mean. Or your honeymoon. Just…’

  Her words trailed off. Fran was staring into the marquee, an odd look on her face; a faraway, thousand-yard stare. Sebastian had seen that look many times in his life; in appeared at all major events: birthdays, Christmases, graduations. His mother was thinking about his father and how he should have lived to see his only son thrive in adulthood. A widow since Sebastian was a baby, every one of his milestones was bittersweet for her.

  ‘I know you would have.’ He put his arm around her, squeezed her to him.

  Fran tapped her vape on her teeth. ‘Well, never mind. You’ll get it all soon enough – when I’m gone.’

  Sebastian arrested a laugh in his throat. ‘Mum, you’re so morbid. You’re barely into your fifties.’

  Fran breathed out another vape plume. ‘Right, I need a drink of the hard stuff! How about it?’

  Fran slipped her arm through Sebastian’s, keen on moving towards one of the waiters taking trays of Champagne around the lawn. Sebastian was pleased by her good humour and allowed her to sweep him along.

  ‘Thank you, Mum,’ he said quietly.

  Fran grasped a Champagne flute from a tray. ‘Whatever for, darling?’

  ‘For … everything.’ He felt his emotions welling up, and had to take a breath. His mother was old school; he didn’t want to embarrass her. But it was his wedding day – the occasion called for an expression of gratitude to his only parent for delivering him thus far in his life.

  Fran smiled adoringly. ‘Thank you, darling. I think this calls for a toast, don’t you? To whatever the future holds!’

  She raised her glass and Sebastian clinked his own against hers. As they drank, Sebastian could see through the marquee’s open flaps, onto the dance floor. Guests milled about beside a pop-up bar and more sat at tables decorated with chintzy fabrics, a heart-shaped balloon rising from the centrepiece on each.

  From the makeshift stage, the singer of the band spotted him and pointed. ‘Yo, Seb, time for a dance, innit!’ A friend of Sebastian’s from their fifty-grand-a-year school, he spoke as if he grew up
on a sinkhole estate.

  Caught in everyone’s gaze, Sebastian froze. He looked to his mother; she gave him a wide grin and nodded her head vigorously as if to say, Go on then!

  Sheepishly Sebastian joined Lily in the middle of the dance floor and the children fanned out around them, staring. Their mothers beckoned them to the sidelines as the first bars of Lily and Sebastian’s first dance started up: ‘Hero’ by Enrique Iglesias – a somewhat uninspired choice, but one of Lily’s favourites.

  And as Sebastian held his new wife close and she mouthed the words of the song to him, he knew there was nowhere he would rather be.

  Five

  It had been a beautiful day, exactly how I’d imagined and wanted it to be, everyone kicking back and enjoying themselves. There had been none of this at my first wedding to Maxwell, who had micromanaged every aspect of the proceedings. Control freak that he was, he’d thrown toddler-style tantrums about the flowers, the cars, even the chocolate fountain. That would have been bad enough, but he had also tried to ensure there were certain places my relatives could and couldn’t sit, plus he’d tried to leave them out of the photos. When I’d questioned him later, he’d suggested I was imagining it all.

  In comparison, Sebastian had been the perfect host, meeting my extended family for the first time with a smile and handshake. He hadn’t acted like he was better than them, or turned his nose up at their outfits. Everyone had been on their best behaviour. It had been perfect.

  I should have known it wouldn’t last.

  Sebastian and I had just finished our first dance when I became aware of my ex-husband in my peripheral vision. I let go of Sebastian and gawked stupidly at Maxwell. In contrast to the rest of the guests, he was dressed casually, but had chosen his outfit with obvious care: a white shirt, freshly pressed jeans, aviator sunglasses despite the looming grey clouds overhead. He was standing by the marquee opening, Denny on his hip, watching the ongoing celebrations.

  I wondered what line Maxwell had spun to get past reception and in here. I knew how amiable he could appear. But also knew, only too well, the mind games he played. I remembered waiting up for him night after night as he committed infidelity after infidelity, right under my nose. I remembered the drinking, the sneering contempt for my wellbeing, the control freakery.

  Before I could make any move I saw Triss making her way towards him, sensing confrontation like a heat-seeking missile. I needed to intervene before this got ugly. I could hear their heated voices as I approached, even over the sound of the band behind me.

  ‘I just wanted to say congratulations.’ Maxwell’s tone was stiff and defensive.

  Triss’s voice cut through the air. ‘Pull the other one, it’s got bells on. You don’t “just” do anything.’

  But Maxwell didn’t seem to be paying Triss any attention at all. Instead, he was watching me approach, that infuriating smirk of his playing on his lips. I wished in that moment I had changed for the reception. For some reason, I just didn’t want my ex-husband to see me in my wedding dress. This was my day, mine and Sebastian’s. Maxwell had no place here.

  I drew level with them. ‘Thanks, Triss, I’ll take it from here,’ I said, my tone breezy, but carrying a warning. My best friend looked uncertain but moved away. Then, before I could speak again, Maxwell swooped towards me. I smelled his aftershave and the strong, sour tang of alcohol as he kissed my cheek.

  ‘Lily, you look gorgeous. Doesn’t your mum look gorgeous, Denny?’ Thumb in his mouth and already sleepy-eyed after such a long and busy day, Denny nodded.

  I swallowed down my fury. ‘You’ve been drinking? It’s barely five o’clock!’ I hissed through gritted teeth.

  Maxwell dropped his voice as he lifted his aviators. ‘Just the one. Chill out, Lil.’

  Another stab of irritation lanced through me as he used his old pet name for me. I would bet real money he’d done that on purpose. He was playing down his addiction as always, too. I’d never known Maxwell to drink a lot when he knew he was taking Denny in the car, but could today be the first time? I dithered a moment, wondering if I should tell Sebastian, cancel the honeymoon. Or maybe we should take Denny with us? No, that was ridiculous. We were staying in a hotel that was for adults only. For God’s sake! This was typical Maxwell.

  ‘You promise it was just the one?’ I demanded quietly.

  Maxwell fixed me with a stare from those endless blue-pool eyes of his. ‘I give you my word.’

  ‘Lily—’ Fran appeared on the fringes of the group now, her concern evident as her gaze jumped from me, to Maxwell. ‘Is everything all right? Shall I take Denny for a drink or something?’

  I didn’t know my new mother-in-law well, but in that moment I loved her – for playing granny and wanting to shield my boy. I turned towards her and patted her arm. ‘It’s fine, Fran. No harm done.’ I gave her a gentle smile.

  Fran moved her gaze over to Sebastian, who had now appeared beside her.

  He gave her a supportive nod. ‘It’s fine, Mum. I’ll catch you up in a sec.’

  Reassured, Fran smiled and moved back into the throng.

  Maxwell offered Sebastian his hand. A sudden flash of a memory pierced its way through my mind: I was emptying a bottle of his most expensive whisky down the sink as I waited for him to return from yet another jaunt. Maybe I hadn’t always behaved with aplomb, either. But then my ex-husband could try the patience of even the most committed saint. Bloody Maxwell! I didn’t want to have to deal with him today, of all days. I willed my new husband not to take my ex’s hand.

  He did, of course.

  ‘You take good care of her,’ Maxwell said, voice soft with what – regret?

  My eyes bulged outwards at the hypocrisy, but I saw only a polite smile on Sebastian’s face. Counting to ten, I reminded myself that Sebastian was a peacemaker; that’s what I liked most about him. No, scrub that – what I liked most about Sebastian was not just that, but the fact he was the opposite of Maxwell in almost every way.

  His point made – whatever it was – Maxwell’s attention snapped back to me. ‘So, I guess we’d better get going. You got Denny’s things?’

  Obviously, I wanted to say. When Maxwell and I were married, Denny had always been my child. I was the one who did the breakfasts, bathtimes and bedtimes. It was only now I’d left him that Maxwell showed his child any interest.

  ‘…Right here!’

  Triss appeared, Denny’s rucksack in hand. I hadn’t noticed her slip away to collect it for me. I was surprised. How had she thought to get it? Triss was not exactly known for her own organisational skills, even if she was a teacher. The few times I’d asked Triss to babysit Denny for me, he’d be returned to me on a sugar high, hair unbrushed and shoes on the wrong feet. Even so, I nodded my thanks. Maxwell looked almost disappointed as he took it from Triss’s outstretched hand. What was he expecting? To go up to the bridal suite with me to get it?

  ‘We don’t want to keep you.’ Sebastian indicated Denny, whose eyelids were getting increasingly droopy.

  Maxwell took Sebastian’s pointed gesture in his stride. ‘Well, we’ll see you in a week, then. Say “Bye Mum”.’

  Denny gave me a halfhearted wave. Maxwell shot us that smirk of his again, but I was glad to see it accompanied by a slight awkwardness now. He turned and stalked off, back towards the hotel.

  On an ordinary day I hated having to hand my boy over to Maxwell, but today it somehow felt a hundred times worse. It was like Maxwell had managed to tramp all over the occasion; everything that had felt so good was now spoiled. All of sudden I was done with the wedding; I just wanted to leave.

  ‘What time are our flights?’ I murmured to Sebastian.

  He looked at his watch. ‘Oh, not for five or six hours yet, we’ve got ages…’

  He spotted the expression on my face and realisation set in. Even less than a year into our relationship, he knew me well.

  He draped his arm around my bare shoulders. ‘Why don’t we say our goodbyes, now? It’l
l take a while, then we can go get our stuff. Maybe have a drink at the airport, get the honeymoon off to a flying start?’

  I rolled my eyes at his horrendous pun, smiling despite myself. I hated that Maxwell could still do this to me, even on my wedding day. At least Sebastian didn’t hold it against me.

  It took nearly an hour to extricate ourselves from the throng as family members and well-wishers all wanted to bid us goodbye. I made sure to tell everyone not to follow us out: that they should make sure they leave when they wanted. It made no sense for them not to finish the buffet, or fail to drink the free bar dry, I said, over and over.

  It was only later, as we were waiting to board our flight, that I realised.

  We hadn’t seen or said goodbye to Fran.

  Six

  Sebastian yawned, irritated as he watched the departures board flash yellow with yet more updates and delays. He shifted his body in the hard, plastic seat near the desk. Directly in front of him, a businessman in a rumpled suit argued with a pained-looking young woman whose gaze kept flitting back to her computer screen. Beside Sebastian, a family slumped, morose. The parents muttered to each other in a language Sebastian didn’t recognise. Two small children lay either side of the father, asleep across his lap, on top of each other and unconcerned, like puppies.

  At the desk, the anxious young woman tried to contain the annoyed customer. Behind him, a queue was growing, with yet more resentful faces.

  ‘I can only apologise for the delay, sir…’