A Summer Fling

by Milly Johnson

  ‘I think that says it all for us,’ she said, slapping her hands together to signal a job well done as Malcolm crumpled into two, fell to the floor and groaned in soprano agony.

  ‘Quick, move,’ said Christie, gathering her troops and pushing them physically out of the door. ‘Oh, Anna, what the heck did you do that for? He’ll report you for sure.’

  ‘After all you lot have done for me in the past couple of months, I owe you,’ said Anna, making a note to wash her knee with some strong soap in the Setting Sun toilets.

  They ate a Thai banquet as they had that night for Anna’s birthday and had a second good chortle at the names of the dishes. And they raised a glass of champagne to Dawn, each wishing with all their hearts that she knew what she was doing. For once, Dawn was trying awfully hard to bubble about her wedding, saying how lovely her dress was and that her bridesmaids had promised to stay sober, at least through the ceremony. She looked unnaturally cheerful.

  ‘Did you manage to get a honeymoon sorted out at the eleventh hour then?’ said Grace, pouring the last of the champagne into Dawn’s glass.

  ‘No,’ said Dawn. Alas, this new attentive Calum had been born too late to organize one, and half of Aunt Charlotte’s money had gone now. Plus Muriel had been going mad and inviting the world and its bingo crowd to the reception, which would put paid to the rest tomorrow when she settled the final bill. Dawn hadn’t volunteered her horse-race winnings which she had only just nibbled into. She would use that after the wedding to get some plastering done on those dangerous loose wires in the house. How thrilling. For now, it sat safely in her bank account with the half of Aunt Charlotte’s money that Calum hadn’t got his mitts on so far.

  ‘Calum says he’s going to take some time off next month and we’ll see about getting a weekend away in Butlins or something,’ she chirped on.

  ‘Have you said goodbye to your cowboy?’ said Anna.

  That did it.

  Dawn’s head fell into her hands and she broke into an agonized sob.

  ‘Oh, Dawny,’ said Anna.

  That made it worse. He called her Dawny. And he was going tomorrow. For good. Out of her life.

  Christie’s hand gripped hers. ‘You know, if you’re at that church door tomorrow and you don’t want to go through with the wedding, we’ll all be there to support you. You don’t have to be afraid.’

  Dawn’s thoughts flicked to Freya. Even after what she had told her, Dawn knew she would walk down that aisle the following day, however many doubts she had. She knew she was pathetic.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Dawn, recovering and attempting to stick a smile back on, but it had lost its glue and it wasn’t happening. She lied about the reason for her tears and fooled no one. ‘It’s just with Mum and Dad not being there. They so wanted me to have the big white wedding.’

  ‘Darling, I’m sure your mum and dad would just want you to be happy, with or without a meringue frock,’ said Grace. She above all knew how hard a loveless marriage could be.

  ‘I will be happy,’ Dawn said. ‘I promise.’ Freya at ‘White Wedding’ had said she would. And Dawn so badly needed something to hang her faith on.

  Al Holly was having a drink at the bar when Dawn went in later. Their gig was over, thank goodness, because she didn’t think she could bear hearing their music and Samuel saying the words: ‘Well, thanks for being so kind to us, folks. You’ve made us so welcome in Barnsley and we’ll take your kindness back with us to British Columbia.’

  Al Holly’s back was broad and long and she wanted to press her cheek against it and feel its warmth through his black shirt.

  He sensed her presence, turned around and gave her a smile. Not the usual cheerful, lazy smile that lit up his whole face but a reserved, gentle one.

  ‘Dawny Sole, you came,’ he said. ‘I didn’t see you out there, I thought maybe—’

  ‘I came. To say goodbye,’ she said, the words sticking to her throat on their exit as if they were barbed and hooked. ‘I wouldn’t have not come.’ I had to see you.

  ‘You missed my song,’ he said. ‘I played it as our last piece tonight. It’s about a man who loves a woman he can’t have.’

  Dawn’s lip trembled. What if she had heard him sing it? She would have crumbled, she knew. Fate had stepped in and put her on the straight and narrow by making the waitress lose the bill and keeping them all in the restaurant a quarter of an hour longer. But a huge part of her wanted to hear that song, she wanted to crumble and give in to what her heart was telling her to do.

  ‘I’m sorry I missed that.’

  ‘The bus leaves here at three p.m. tomorrow. You got’ – he looked at his watch –‘eighteen hours to change your mind and come with us. Girl, I would love you so much—’

  ‘Don’t say it, Al.’

  His lips dropped to her ear.

  ‘I love you, Dawny Sole. And you love me too because I kissed you and I felt your heart against mine and I know. Come home with me.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  He kissed her cheek. A slow, soft kiss that ignited every cell, every nerve, every atom in her body. She would always remember that kiss as the saddest and most beautiful one she ever had.

  ‘Goodbye, dear, lovely, sweet Al Holly. Be happy and safe always,’ she said and turned, not looking back once, for then he would have seen the tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter 83

  ‘You look nice,’ said Niki as Grace made an entrance into the kitchen in a navy suit that made her hair look like moonlight silver.

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ said Grace bashfully. She was fiddling with a necklace, unable to get the clasp to fasten.

  ‘Here, let me,’ he said.

  She relinquished the necklace to his outstretched hand. She wanted to shiver as his finger lightly touched the back of her neck. He fastened it too quickly, she thought.

  ‘There, you’re perfect,’ he said, looking at her square on.

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

  ‘Oh yes, Grace, you really are perfect,’ he repeated, with deeper meaning.

  Grace felt her cheeks heating. Niki was getting bolder with his compliments. She knew he would never take advantage of his house guest, he was far too much of a gentleman. But something dormant was being awoken within her every time he said her name. Grace found that the prospect of Nikita Koslov taking things one stage further was not an unwelcome one.

  ‘Come here, you scruff. You’ve fastened up your buttons all wrong,’ said Ben, pulling Raychel none too gently in front of him and re-doing the top two buttons of her new shirt. She had bought a bigger size than usual for she had put on half a stone over the past couple of months. Ben loved that she looked so much more womanly for it. He could have kissed those women she worked with for beefing her up a bit. And Elizabeth and John, with all those garden barbecues.

  ‘Good job I have you,’ Raychel laughed. While she was at the wedding, he was helping John put up a playhouse in the garden for young Ellis. She suspected John could have easily done it by himself, but he obviously wanted the young man’s company. It was wonderful being part of such a lovely family. And having friends like the women she worked with. And she’d had a huge recent surprise when Elizabeth handed her a cheque for forty-two thousand pounds, apparently her share in some old forgotten family matured bonds that had been recently discovered. She had protested, but Elizabeth had insisted the money was hers by rights and forced her to take it. There was a lot of sunlight in her life now and just the one cloud left to clear – the identity of her true father. But today that thought was pushed into second place. Today was Dawn’s Day.

  ‘Vino înapoi, în pat! Come back to bed, my Anna!’

  ‘Will you let me get up!’ said Anna as Vladimir pulled her backwards into a bed that was full of rose petals and rolled on top of her to hold her down. She had once mistaken Tony’s rampant sex drive for love and romance. It paled into insignificance beside this man who fed on her lips and did things to her body that would have seen he
r excommunicated from the Catholic Church if she’d given them up in confession. He was passionate and yet gentle and the quality was so good, any more than once a night and her brain would have blown out of her ears.

  ‘Why are you leaving me? It’s the weekend,’ he said.

  ‘Because a) I’ve got to feed the cat and b) I’ve got a wedding to get ready for and I’m already late because you insisted we have a chocolate breakfast in bed.’

  ‘How can you leave a man who gives you truffles in the morning?’

  ‘Because my friend is getting married,’ said Anna. ‘And my cat needs to eat.’

  ‘I need to eat.’ Vladimir started to feast on her neck. Anna groaned. Anything less than Dawn’s wedding would have seen her resistance crumble.

  ‘Stop that. I have to go. Oh God, please stop before I die!’ said Anna, trying to struggle, but it was so very, very difficult.

  ‘All right, I give in on this occasion,’ he said, letting her go regretfully. ‘I shall cook tonight for you. A traditional Romanian dish.’

  ‘What’s that then? Rare-roasted sacrificial victim?’

  ‘My darling, never mock Vampiri,’ he said, baring his teeth. ‘They will kill you for less.’

  ‘And what’s their preferred method?’ smiled Anna playfully.

  ‘Death by a thousand nibbles,’ said Vladimir, drawing his finger down her breast.

  ‘Oooh – I’ll hold you to that,’ said Anna, sparkling.

  Chapter 84

  ‘Flaming heck, it’s like a holding pen for The Jeremy Kyle Show in here,’ said Anna as they sat in church, alone on the bride’s side except for an old lady right at the back who kept coughing. They took her to be one of the distant aunts whom Dawn said might turn up.

  But she wasn’t. She was Mavis Marple, a regular feature at church ‘specials’, and her grey, unprepossessing appearance earned her natural acceptance in grieving or celebratory throngs. Mavis enjoyed the buzz of being a temporary guest of parties, blagging a lift to the venue of the post-service food and then hoovering up the buffet with seasoned aplomb. She even brought her own enormous serviette to transport some of the booty home.

  The four women were all watching in amazement as the groom’s side of the pews began to fill up with big women in gaudy dresses and scrawny teenagers, a few in smart trousers, most in jeans and trainers and even a few in hooded tops.

  ‘Shh, Anna,’ said Christie. ‘The sound carries in these places.’

  ‘Imagine if Anna had kneed Malc in the spuds in here,’ said Raychel. ‘You’d have heard the echo in Aberdeen.’

  ‘He was long overdue for getting his cock spatched,’ replied Anna.

  That set them off giggling.

  ‘Did you remember the money, Christie?’ asked Raychel. They’d had a collection for Dawn instead of buying her a present.

  ‘It’s here in my handbag,’ said Christie, patting her bright yellow bag. She was dressed from head to foot in lemon and looked like a walking sunshine. Which, coincidentally, was how the others saw her: a warm, wonderful force. Their centre.

  Grace let her eye rove around the church. It was a beautiful building. She would be sitting here again within the year, watching Charles and Laura walk down the same aisle. They, and Paul, had come over on Thursday to break the wonderful news. Christie had opened a bottle of champagne and the women had sat on the patio watching Charles and Paul and Niki playing football with Joe. Like Christie, warmth seemed to ooze out of Niki’s soul. It had been one of the smiliest evenings she could remember. It wasn’t even sullied by the sad news that Sarah had decided to cut herself off from them, siding with her father. But then she didn’t need them any more for babysitting duties, it seemed, as Hugo had invested in an au pair from the Eastern bloc. Very young, cheap to employ and pretty no doubt. Paul said that he could see trouble brewing already. Grace hoped Sarah would come round and had written her a letter. Maybe the new baby would help to heal the rift when it arrived. And Gordon would be out of hospital within the week too apparently, Paul carefully informed her. Grace had found she wasn’t as nervous about that as she thought she might have been. But then she felt truly safe now, especially in the presence of solid, kind Nikita Koslov and his wonderful sister.

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Christie nudged her as a very loud ‘Fucking hell, shurrup will ya’ travelled down from an usher at the back. Female as well.

  ‘Probably,’ said Grace with a sigh.

  ‘Good grief!’ said Anna as what could only be the groom’s mother marched to the front of the church in huge pink trousers, an ill-matching pink jacket and a black hat that looked like an overthrow from a funeral. There had been an attempt at coordination with black shoes and a black handbag, though it didn’t quite work as an ensemble. She was wearing the sort of pink lipstick that made her lips look as though they had sustained third degree burns. All that and a spray-on tan that made her appear as if she’d been standing too close to a barbecue. She resembled an extra on Shameless who had just been dropped for being too rough.

  The groom was easy to spot with his one eyebrow. He had a smart penguin suit on with a peach cravat. He looked designer-untidy and good-looking but not at all like any of them had imagined as a match for Dawn.

  ‘That’s never him, is it? Calum?’ asked Anna, eyebrows raised to the max.

  ‘I think it must be,’ whispered Grace.

  ‘I want to hijack Dawn at the door and run off with her,’ said Anna. Sweet, daft, pretty, ethereal Dawn didn’t belong with this lot. Surely?

  ‘We may all be wrong, of course, and she’ll be blissfully happy with him,’ said Grace.

  ‘Yeah, and the moon is made of Red Leicester,’ said Anna.

  The church settled. Five minutes ran over the allotted time, then a tinny ‘Here Comes the Bride’ made everyone’s nerves ping, but it was only the best man’s mobile phone going off.

  He stood up and turned to everyone, throwing his stick-thin arms wide. ‘Sorry folks,’ he said, and turned the phone off. ‘Killer, you pillock,’ shouted someone from the middle, causing a low rumble of laughter.

  Raychel wasn’t sure if she should have been praying for Dawn to come to her senses and run off with that Canadian guitarist, but she did anyway in the silence.

  Then the organ music started full pelt and with hearts full of all sorts of mixed emotions, the four friends stood and turned to see a veiled Dawn, a beautiful, tall Dawn in an exquisite gown and carrying a teardrop bouquet of peach flowers, walk slowly down the aisle. Tears bombarded their eyes. They tried not to look at the two bridesmaids in satsuma orange behind her, one with her cleavage pushed so up and out that it almost got to the altar before the bride.

  They saw Dawn smile at them through the veil. It was the smile of a woman saying, ‘Thanks for coming,’ not a smile that said: ‘This is the happiest day of my life.’

  As she got to the altar, Dawn smiled back at Calum but inside she was screaming. She wished she had been brave enough to blurt out the truth to her friends last night when she had started crying into her jasmine rice. Why didn’t she beg for them to help her while she had the chance? There was nothing for it now but to go ahead and get married because if she hadn’t been brave enough or big enough to halt proceedings before, she wasn’t going to be able to do it at this stage. If only someone else would do it for her. Pleeease!

  ‘If anyone here prethent knowth why thethe two thould not be joined in holy matrimony, thpeak now or forever hold your peath,’ lisped the vicar.

  There were a few humorous coughs from the groom’s side. The vicar scowled as Calum turned around to them and flicked the Vs, before remembering where he was and apologizing.

  Had Dawn’s four friends looked down, they would have seen that all of them had their fingers crossed. Each one was wishing or praying or calling to cosmic forces that if this wedding was going to be happy, let it go ahead. And if not, please God, let something stop it in its tracks.

  In that prolonged silence,
Dawn waited for Al Holly to throw open the door, stride down the aisle, pick her up and run out. But he didn’t. The vicar began to speak again. Calum and Dawn knelt at the altar. Someone had written ‘SH’ on Calum’s left sole and ‘IT!’ on his right which set a lot of shoulders shaking. But Dawn wasn’t laughing. She had switched onto automatic pilot, reciting vows that no longer meant anything to her, and was way past the point of caring that she would be damned for it. Her dress wasn’t magical after all. How could she have believed that tripe Freya had spouted?

  The bride and groom exchanged the rings they had picked from the Argos catalogue and the church erupted as Calum and Dawn were declared man and wife. Her four friends exchanged dry glances. That was that then. Dawn was married. For better or worse. It was done. As the bride and groom went to sign the register with the tangerine twosome trotting behind, the music began for the hymn, ‘Guide Me, Oh Thou Great Redeemer.’

  Grace’s lovely voice cut through the out-of-tune cacophony as clear as a nightingale’s. It was her favourite hymn. Privately Christian, Grace prayed every night and never doubted that He had pulled her through her darkest hours. She only hoped He would do the same for young Dawn. Anna’s throat was full of tears and she had to mime her singing. It didn’t help that Dawn emerged emulsion-white from the vestry door as the hymn ended on a dodgy descant from some cocky Crookes. She couldn’t have been wearing a more fake smile if she’d tried.

  The Crookes piled out of the church for the photographs, a huge percentage of them lighting up fags as soon as they got into the grounds. Anna saw the massive mamma in baby pink nudge the bride hard and tell her to, ‘Cheer up, it’s your bleeding wedding day!’ No one suggested a picture of Dawn and her friends. It seemed the bridesmaids were directing the formations.

  Christie drove in convoy with the others to the reception. The pub car park was full and she had to pull in on the road, but at least it would be easier to get out.

  ‘I think there must be more people here than there were at Princess Di’s wedding!’ Grace commented.