The Bride, the Baby & the Best Man

by Liz Fielding

  ‘I could check him out for you,’ Harry offered. ‘Who knows what dark secrets he might have hidden away.’

  ‘Secrets?’ She managed a laugh. ‘Like what?’

  ‘He could be a bigamist,’ Harry offered.

  ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘Or divorced. That would explain why he’d rather not have a church wedding.’

  ‘He isn’t divorced.’

  ‘What about a passel of illegitimate children?’

  Faith jumped to her feet, turning away so that the moonlight would not betray that her eyes were over bright. ‘Please stop. Julian is a thoroughly good and kind man and he doesn’t deserve this.’ The twig Harry had been holding snapped again with a sharp crack and suddenly he was behind her, his hands on her shoulders and she could feel his warmth stealing about her.

  ‘No he doesn’t. Reconsider, Faith, before it’s too late. Julian thinks you’re a sensible, level-headed young woman who will make him a sensible, level-headed wife.’

  ‘And you know better?’

  His grip tightened. ‘I could show you. I could make it impossible for you to marry him, we both know that.’ His body was imprinted against her, warm, tempting. She caught her lower lip to keep from crying out. ‘Admit it, Faith,’ he demanded.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I know it.’

  ‘But then you’d hate me and I couldn’t live with that.’

  He turned her to face him and wiped the treacherous tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb before putting his arms around her and drawing her against him. She could hear the steady thumping of his heart, feel his strength enfolding her in a gesture of comfort.

  How could she ever hate him?

  The truth was that ever since she’d met Harry March her well-ordered existence had been tumbling about her ears like a card house and another moment out beneath the stars might yet undo her resolve to hold to her promise, whatever the cost.

  ‘I seem to have lost my head in the last few days,’ she declared, with only the tiniest tremble in her voice to betray her. Somehow his hands had remained against her cheeks, cradling her face but she didn’t have the strength to protest any more. ‘It’s nothing serious. I’ll find it again the minute I get back to London,’ she said, more to herself than him.

  ‘Will you, my love? I’m sure you’ll try. You’ll live in a house that’s never quite warm enough, use low energy bulbs that are never quite bright enough, drive your neighbours mad with your plans for recycling every scrap of rubbish in your area and go everywhere by bicycle—’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’

  ‘No and I’m sure you’ll do it the same way you do everything, with passion, enormous thoroughness. You’ll write articles for worthy magazines about how to save energy, become a television pundit for the Green Party—’

  ‘There are worse things.’

  ‘You’re right. Far worse is the prospect of you becoming a sort of universal aunt, godmother to all your friends’ children because although you’ll long for them you’ve been brainwashed, for the noblest of motives, into thinking it would be selfish to produce any of your own.’

  ‘Don’t… Please…’ From somewhere she found the strength to step back, break the contact, put a yard of distance between them. ‘When is Elizabeth coming home?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re so eager to whisk Julian away to East Anglia to look at houses?’ Eager? Not eager. A touch desperate perhaps. ‘She’ll be back tomorrow morning, Faith. She hoped you would stay long enough to meet her. She’d like to thank you personally for everything you’ve done.’

  ‘Of course.’ She took at step in the direction of her car, then turned back. ‘Can I give you a lift, Harry?’

  ‘I want the rest of your life and you offer me a lift.’ He shook his head and before she could say another word he had disappeared into the darkness of the night.

  * * *

  Elizabeth and her husband — looking gaunt and exhausted after his illness — arrived home the next afternoon

  In a whirl of excitement Alice hurled herself into her mother’s arms and hugged her until she begged for mercy. Then Elizabeth saw Ben and crooning soft loving words, she took him from Faith’s arms, leaving her feeling cold and empty.

  She hadn’t seen Harry since their meeting in the wood. He had gone by the time she had woken, leaving early to collect his sister and brother-in-law from the airport. Now he caught Faith’s eye.

  ‘Motherhood,’ he murmured, coolly. ‘It gets them all in the end.’

  Elizabeth laughed, tears sparkling in her blue eyes, as she looked up. ‘I pity men, don’t you? Missing this?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, assuming acquiescence. ‘Thank you so much for coming to poor Harry’s assistance. You’re an angel, Faith.’

  ‘Some angel,’ Harry muttered. ‘She didn’t know one end of a baby from the other.’

  ‘It didn’t take me long to learn,’ Faith said, turning quickly to Elizabeth. ‘Alice was an enormous help. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’ Alice, overcome by a sudden attack of shyness clung to her mother’s skirts. ‘But now you’re home I feel I can leave with a clear conscience.’ She glanced nervously at Harry, wondering what other tricks he might have up his sleeve to delay her.

  ‘There’s no need to rush away is there?’ It was Elizabeth, intercepting the look, who encouraged her to linger. ‘Can’t you stay for lunch? Harry’s told me how kind you’ve been.’

  Harry never missed a trick. ‘I’m afraid Julian is waiting for me. He has to get back to London tonight for a meeting.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ She didn’t give up that easily. ‘How is Janet? I must make an effort—’

  ‘Don’t harass the woman, Elizabeth, she’s been delayed on our behalf for long enough and you’ll see Janet at Faith’s wedding.’ The warning tone was clear enough.

  ‘Of course.’ She glanced uncertainly at Harry. ‘So kind of you to ask Alice to be your flower girl.’

  ‘Why don’t you take mummy upstairs and show her your dress, Alice,’ Harry intervened, smoothly. ‘I’m sure she can’t wait to see it.’

  ‘No, no indeed,’ Elizabeth, said, seizing the opportunity to leave them together. ‘And I’d better check to see how John’s coping.’ She took Faith’s hand. ‘Goodbye, Faith and thank you again.’

  ‘Goodbye, Elizabeth.’ Faith turned to Harry and after a moment’s hesitation offered him her hand. ‘Goodbye, Harry.’

  He ignored her hand. ‘I have a present for you.’

  ‘A present?’

  ‘A wedding present.’ He retrieved a shiny white box from the hall table.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Something useful. Don’t open it now.’ He bent forward, brushing her cheek with his lips and fighter squadrons of butterflies flew in formation across her abdomen. ‘Goodbye, Faith.’

  ‘Goodbye, Harry.’ And she meant it. Despite the butterflies, and despite the fact that her renowned level-headedness had taken a severe beating in the last few days, she hadn’t quite lost her wits. Julian might seem less than exciting alongside Harry March, but then who wouldn’t?

  Marriage wasn’t the moonlight and roses of fairytales and what happened when the white heat of passion cooled? Marriage was a series of small compromises; it was the give and take of everyday life that made it work.

  A small voice inside her whispered that she could have had it all and, as she paused for one last moment on the steps of Wickham Hall listening to Alice’s shrieks of laughter drifting out of the first floor window, she remembered how Ben had felt lying warm and snug in her arms and felt a terrible hunger deep within her. But she had accepted Julian on the terms he had offered.

  She knew how it felt to be jilted by someone you loved, someone you trusted and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, back out now. She lifted her head and taking a deep breath, climbed into her car, putting the box Harry had given her on the passenger seat.

  She eyed it through suspiciously watery eyes a
nd, after a moment’s hesitation, opened the lid. Inside, nestling in layers of tissue, was a set of fine silk thermal underwear; a vest with long sleeves, a pair of long johns and socks. A card dropped onto her lap as she shook it out. “To keep you warm on your bicycle. And anywhere else you might need it. Harry.”

  Just for a moment her breath caught in her throat and the tears threatened to overwhelm her. Crossly, she brushed them away, dumped the underwear back in its box. How typical of the man to insist on having the last word.

  * * *

  The bridesmaids had already left for the church, walking the few yards across the churchyard, taking Alice, chattering excitedly, with them. Now it was her turn.

  It had been a rush, she had been too busy selling her car, house hunting, organising everything down to the last pin to think about Harry, or babies or anything and for that, at least, she had been grateful.

  Julian too had been busy, giving talks, visiting fellow scientists, working on a paper, putting the finishing touches to a book he had written so that, he had told her, he could concentrate on their honeymoon. She gave a little shiver.

  ‘Are you cold, Faith?’ Her father voiced his concern.

  ‘No. Just nervous. All brides are nervous, surely you must know that?’

  ‘I’ve never quite understood why. Unless they’re afraid the bridegroom won’t show? This one doesn’t strike me as a bolter.’

  ‘Dad!’

  Her father gave her a gently teasing smile. ‘That was supposed to make you laugh, Faith.’ She tried, but couldn’t quite manage it and he frowned. ‘Does it still hurt? Michael was so long ago.’

  ‘I know. Silly isn’t it?’ She gave an awkward little shrug. ‘Perhaps if he had told me himself, explained, I could have understood. But to just write a letter. It was so — weak.’

  ‘If it helps,’ he said, ‘I don’t think he actually wrote it.’ Faith turned to her father, her face creased in confusion. He gave an awkward little shrug. ‘I suppose I should have told you before but I was so glad to see the back of him. You were both much too young.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. If he didn’t write it, who did?’

  ‘You went to stay with Janet for a few days before the wedding. I’m pretty sure his mother took the opportunity to tell him you’d changed your mind, had decided to go to university after all.’

  ‘But why would Michael believe her?’

  ‘Maybe she went to the expense of buying another ring to give back to him.’

  ‘You know she only agreed to the wedding because you told her that you were pregnant. You remember how you bounced into the polite little tea-party you’d arranged and dropped your bombshell…’

  She remembered. She remembered it all. She remembered how, after that first time, she had lain in Michael’s arms, utterly happy, full of what they would do with their life together. Michael had warned her that her father would never agree to their marriage, not until she’d finished university so she’d decided to shock them into saying yes.

  Swept along by her own cleverness she had sprung it on them without bothering to discuss it with Michael first, after all why should they wait just because her father thought she should have a degree. What possible use would a degree in economics be to someone who was going to spend the rest of her life raising babies?

  Faith stared at her bouquet, not seeing the peach rose buds; had Michael simply been cornered by her frankness? He’d bedded the vicar’s virginal daughter and he could hardly say his intentions were anything but honourable.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ She drew in a shuddery breath. ‘You’re right I was very young…’ She looked at her father. ‘I don’t suppose Michael needed much convincing when his mother offered him a way out. He was probably glad of the opportunity to escape.’

  ‘He was young too. A man would have come and talked to you. Wanted to be sure that you were okay. He was weak.’

  Compared with Harry. Compared with Julian.

  ‘You’re a bit pale,’ her father said, looking anxiously towards the church. ‘Do you want to delay this for a few minutes?’

  She pulled herself together, managed a smile. ‘No. There’s no need. Really. I’ve kept Julian waiting quite long enough.’

  ‘Well, a little late is expected, but more than ten minutes does suggest cold feet,’ her father agreed.

  ‘Perhaps I should be wearing my thermal socks,’ she murmured, as she turned to pick up her train. The errant thought brought Harry so vividly to mind that for a moment she could almost hear him laughing.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Nothing, Dad. Nothing at all.’

  The sun was warm as they crossed the churchyard and there was a flurry of activity as Alice and the bridesmaids took their places. Then the organist began to play Wagner’s wedding march and there was no more time to think. The congregation rose to its feet and there was a collective gasp as she began the long, slow walk towards Julian waiting at the far end of the aisle. She caught glimpses of neighbours, friends, people she had known all her life and Aunt Janet, her wheelchair bedecked with white ribbons — all of them smiling approval at Harry’s choice of wedding dress.

  She could feel her throat tightening as her father surrendered her to Julian. She shouldn’t be thinking of Harry, not now. Please, not now.

  ‘“Dearly beloved...”’ She concentrated fiercely on the beautiful words of the service, anything to shut out the memory of blue tormenting eyes. ‘“...duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained. First, it was ordained for the procreation of children...”’

  Children? She turned to Julian, he met her eyes, looked away quickly and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. He had known. That was why, honest man that he was, he hadn’t wanted a church wedding. But he was going ahead with it anyway for her sake. She closed her eyes. She should have remembered the words. How many times had she heard them as a choir girl? Hundreds. Had she deliberately blanked them out? The Dean moved smoothly on and she forced herself to concentrate. This was her wedding.

  ‘”...these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”’

  He paused, looked up from his prayer book, waited.

  There was a moment of absolute silence but it was a formality. No one, least of all the Dean, expected someone to stand up, declare an impediment, but Faith wanted to shout out that it was all a terrible lie. That they shouldn’t be getting married, not like this. She should say it— Now—

  Before she could open her mouth the huge iron door handle clattered, shattering the silence.

  ‘I hope I’m not too late to stop this.’ Harry’s voice rang out from the back of the church. ‘I’ve discovered something terribly important. Something Faith should know.’

  Faith heard the congregation turn as one in their seats; the sudden murmur of concerned voices; a nervous giggle from someone at the back of the church.

  She slowly turned her head and there was Harry outlined in the doorway of the church, a dark silhouette against the bright sunshine and her heart, her traitorous heart, leapt at the sight.

  The Dean, who had never had anything like this happen in thirty years of ministry was clearly at something of a loss. He beckoned to Faith’s father. ‘I think we’d better adjourn to the vestry,’ he whispered.

  ‘No—’

  Not like this. Julian was a good man. Kind. Loving. He didn’t deserve this. But the Dean had recovered his wits. ‘No, really, my dear. I’m afraid that once an objection has been made the ceremony cannot continue.’

  She didn’t know how to face Julian, but she forced herself to look at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, as Harry’s uneven footsteps echoed around the vaulted roof. ‘I’m so very sorry.’

  The Dean indicated the way to the vestry, but Harry stopped him.

  ‘I don’t wa
nt anyone to think that there is something here that should be hidden. What I have to say shames no one.’

  ‘March!’ Julian warned. ‘Don’t do this.’

  ‘Faith has a right to know.’

  ‘What?’ she demanded, looking from Julian who shook his head, to Harry. ‘What do I have to know?’

  ‘It’s taken days of poking about, but I finally managed to contact someone from the Antarctic Survey this morning. Faith, I know why Julian came back to England three weeks early.’

  ‘No—’ Once more Julian tried to stop him.

  ‘The project ran out of money,’ Faith said ‘You know that.’

  ‘On the contrary, my dearest girl,’ Harry told her. ‘Global warming has become a hot political potato and suddenly Julian has more research funding than he knows what to do with. The reason he came racing down to Wickham Ash was to explain that the wedding would have to be postponed for a year or two. That he was going back the moment the money was safe in the bank.’

  ‘What!’ Faith turned to Julian. ‘Is this true?’ One look at his face assured her that it was. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Harry answered for him. ‘Because when he arrived he was confronted with a woman dressed in her bridal finery, eagerly organising a posse of bridesmaids, writing invitations, choosing the menu for a reception for a hundred and fifty people. A woman who had already given up her job and had begun to look for a house.’

  ‘You would have sacrificed your research work, everything you held most dear, for me?’ she asked.

  ‘I asked you to marry me, Faith. When I saw—’ He shook his head. ‘I couldn’t let you down.’

  ‘Tell him he can go,’ Harry urged. ‘Let him get back to work.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Julian said, stiffly.