by Sophie Hart
‘You know something, Aims?’ Rachel began to speak, cutting into Aimee’s thoughts, as she eventually plucked up the courage to say what was on her mind. ‘You don’t have to do this. If you don’t want to marry him, you really don’t have to.’
‘I do want to marry him,’ Aimee protested weakly.
‘No one would think badly of you if you changed your mind. This is the rest of your life, and you’ve got to be a hundred percent certain that you’re making the right decision.’
‘Of course I am. I love him,’ Aimee replied. But her words sounded less than convincing. She wasn’t even sure whether she believed them herself.
33
‘By all means marry. If you get a good wife you will become happy, and if you get a bad one you will become a philosopher’ – Socrates
Debbie stood in the living room of the house she shared with Stevie, looking around as though it was the first time she’d ever visited. It was neat and tidy, with all the usual clutter put away in the cupboards, magazines in the rack and DVDs in their cases. She’d spent the day vacuuming and dusting, scrubbing and cleaning, and now the place gleamed.
In front of her was a small travel suitcase, and stacked up in the hallway were half a dozen carrier bags containing the overflow that wouldn’t fit in her case, as well as a garment bag hanging from the picture rail. Scamp jumped up at her, demanding attention, sensing that something was happening.
‘Have you got everything, then?’ Stevie asked, turning off the television and coming over to her.
Debbie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. If she did, she might cry.
‘I guess this is it then,’ Stevie said, his tone serious. ‘I guess it’s goodbye.’
‘Only ’til tomorrow!’ Debbie burst into nervous laughter, relieving the tension.
‘You promise you’ll be there?’
‘Of course I will! Nothing can stop me from becoming your wife.’ Debbie leaned in towards her fiancé, and the two of them kissed tenderly.
She was about to drive to her parents’ house, to spend the night in her childhood bedroom, and respect the tradition of not seeing the groom the night before the wedding. It was the oddest feeling, knowing that the next time she set eyes on Stevie, it would be the biggest day of her life, and she would be about to make her vows in front of all their friends and family.
‘And don’t let Olly keep you up late or get you drunk,’ Debbie warned him firmly.
Olly was Stevie’s best man, and he was coming round to spend the night with him. She was somewhat concerned about the quantities of whisky that might be drunk that evening, and would cheerfully throttle Stevie – and Olly – if he turned up at the church with a hangover.
‘Of course not. We’re just going to watch some telly, maybe have a cheeky Scotch for luck – a toast to the bride’s health and all that,’ Stevie grinned naughtily. ‘Then get an early night. Big day tomorrow.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ Debbie giggled. Then she became serious again. ‘I love you, Stevie. I really do.’
‘I love you too, Debs,’ Stevie murmured, and Debbie heard the catch in his voice. ‘So much. I can’t believe you’re going to be my wife.’
‘Mrs Stephen Reid. Debbie Reid. Deborah Reid,’ Debbie sang, trying the words out for size.
The moment was interrupted by Scamp, whimpering by her feet. Debbie picked him up, burying her face in his fur as he tried to lick her face. ‘Oh, Scamp, I’m going to miss you too. I wish you could be there.’
‘He’d be an excellent ring bearer.’
‘Probably better than Olly,’ Debbie quipped. ‘Shame the vicar won’t allow dogs in the church. And you’ve got all the arrangements sorted for him?’
‘Yeah, I’ll take him round to Cath’s in the morning,’ Stevie nodded, referring to their next-door neighbour. ‘She’ll keep him tomorrow, then Mum’ll pick him up and take him to hers the following day.’
‘While we’re in Greece,’ Debbie whooped. ‘I really can’t wait! I don’t know what I’m more excited about – the wedding or the honeymoon.’
They’d booked the perfect hotel in Santorini, high up on the rocky cliffs in a little whitewashed village, with incredible views over the stunning cerulean sea. Their room had its own private balcony, and a winding set of stone steps would take them down to the narrow strip of beach below.
‘I can’t wait to see you in a bikini,’ Stevie growled, his hands roaming over the newly slender curves of his fiancée.
‘Wait until you see me on the wedding night,’ Debbie winked. ‘Which reminds me,’ she continued, pulling away from Stevie’s increasingly amorous advances. ‘I left you a present upstairs on the bed.’
‘Ooh, saucy. Have you bought us matching underwear?’
‘Damn, I should have thought of that. They never mention that in the bridal magazines.’
‘They’re missing out. I look amazing in white lace panties,’ Stevie joked. ‘But seriously, what did you get me? Can I go open it?’
‘Wait until I’ve gone,’ Debbie instructed him. ‘And don’t open it in front of Olly.’
‘Intriguing.’ Stevie’s eyes were sparkling. ‘I guess it’s a good job I got something for you too.’
‘You got me a present?’ Debbie squealed excitedly.
‘It’s tradition, I believe,’ Stevie smirked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a blue velvet jewellery box.
‘Is it a car?’ Debbie teased. ‘That convertible Audi I’ve been looking at?’
‘Yeah. I got one of those special TARDIS boxes,’ Stevie shot back. ‘Go on then. Open it.’
Biting her lip, Debbie gently opened the box. Inside was a pair of vintage diamond drop earrings that perfectly matched her engagement ring.
‘Something new,’ Stevie murmured, as Debbie gasped.
‘How on earth did you afford these? We’ve been putting every spare penny into the wedding.’
‘Well, you know, I’ve been eating baked beans for lunch, only washing my pants once a week. These little savings add up.’
Debbie threw her arms around him. ‘I don’t care if you robbed a bank, I’m just glad you did. They’re absolutely perfect.’
‘Like you.’ Stevie kissed her gently on the nose. ‘You’re always perfect to me, Debs, you know that. Whether you’re a size ten or a size twenty, you’re always you. And you’re all I want.’
Debbie gazed up at him, her gorgeous, funny, caring fiancé, and knew without a doubt that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
* * *
‘Try to get some sleep tonight. I know you’re excited for tomorrow, but you’ll need it.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m counting on adrenaline to get me through,’ Debbie grinned.
‘Do you want me to bring you anything? A hot drink? A snack? You hardly ate anything tonight, and I don’t want you overdoing it on this diet of yours,’ Debbie’s mother, Kathleen, looked at her in concern. She was a larger lady – Debbie had inherited her build from her mother – and she wore oversized, tortoiseshell glasses. Kathleen had the same thick, dark hair as her daughter, but hers was shot through with strands of grey.
‘I’m fine, Mum. I just wasn’t very hungry.’
‘That’ll be the nerves.’
The two of them were sitting in Debbie’s old childhood bedroom, where the posters of Leonardo DiCaprio and Johnny Depp had long since been taken down. The previously lilac walls had been repainted in a neutral shade of buttercream, and Debbie’s old single bed had been replaced with a double, complete with a brown and cream checked duvet cover that Debbie would have hated as a teenager. Now that the room was largely used for guests, Kathleen’s tastes had taken priority over Debbie’s.
‘I’m not nervous. Just excited.’
‘He’s a good lad, is Stevie. You know your dad and I really like him.’
‘Thanks, Mum, that means a lot.’
‘And you’re going to look so beautiful tomorrow.’ Kathleen stroked her daughter’s hair tende
rly, trying not to get emotional. Seeing Debbie all tucked up, as she sat on the bed beside her, reminded Kathleen of so many childhood moments. But this time it was different. This time it was the eve of Debbie’s wedding, the last time she would ever be here as Miss Barlow and a single woman.
‘You too,’ Debbie smiled. Her mother had bought a lovely dress, in royal blue silk, with a matching bolero jacket and coordinating hat. It was the most expensive outfit she’d owned in a very long time.
Kathleen waved away her comments. ‘Oh, I’ll do, I suppose. But I honestly can’t believe how different you look. You’ve changed so much these last few months. Promise me you won’t overdo it though, I don’t want you disappearing.’
‘There’s no fear of that,’ Debbie laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m planning to stuff myself on honeymoon. I can’t wait for all that yummy food – the olives and the calamari and the roast lamb.’ Debbie’s mouth was watering just thinking about it. ‘Oh, that reminds me, did you tell the caterers that Jenny’s vegetarian?’
‘Yes, don’t worry. Oh, and Julia said she’ll talk to the venue about serving the wedding cake with the coffees. I spoke to her earlier, and she’s got a meeting about another wedding tonight, but she’s going down to the Tythe Barn first thing tomorrow to oversee all the set-up, so you don’t have to worry about anything.’
‘Brilliant. Julia’s so lovely, I’m so lucky to have found her. Have you heard from Sasha?’
Debbie had hired the same make-up artist who’d created her look for the boudoir shoot to style her for the wedding.
‘Yeah, she’s coming over at nine tomorrow, the same time as Graham the photographer. Sasha will sort out the bridesmaids out first, then you’ll be done around eleven thirty. The car will be here at one for you and your dad, and I’ll get a lift with your Auntie Jean.’
Debbie settled back against her pillows and sighed happily. The wedding that she’d dreamt about for so long was finally coming together, and it was going to be perfect, she could just feel it.
‘Thanks so much for all your help, Mum.’
‘Don’t be daft, that’s what I’m here for.’
Kathleen bent over and kissed Debbie on the forehead, like she used to when she was a child, softly smoothing down her hair. Then she stood up, heading for the door. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll get the Buck’s Fizz and croissants ready.’
Debbie grinned. ‘Thanks Mum, love you.’
‘Love you too.’
Kathleen turned off the light, gently closing the door behind her and padding quietly down the stairs.
Left alone in her old room, Debbie’s mind was spinning. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she could pick out the outline of objects in the gloom, both familiar and different at the same time. There was the same old dressing table she’d had since she was a child, but it had now been moved over by the window. The wardrobe was new, and the free-standing mirror had been replaced by one on the wall, casting unexpected shadows across the carpet.
Debbie thought back to when she’d lain here as a teenager, wondering what life held for her and dreaming of marrying Duncan from Blue. Okay, so she might not be about to become Mrs James, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter. She was incredibly happy to be getting hitched to Stevie Reid instead. She was so excited to spend the rest of her life with him, whatever that might bring, and she genuinely fell more in love with him every day. She wanted to have children with him, make memories with him, and grow old with him.
Debbie’s brain was finally starting to wind down, her body beginning to relax, when her phone beeped on the bedside table. She was instantly wide awake again and lunged for it, hoping it might be Stevie. Instead, it was Angela:
Hey bride2b, can’t wait for tmw, its gonna be a blast! I’ll be round about 8.30, get the champagne on ice!!! Xxx
Debbie texted back:
Lol, thanks, just gone to bed but too excited to sleep. I’m getting married tomorrow!!!!! Don’t worry, mum’s putting on a spread in the morn, all the croissants u can eat. Luv u bridesmaid xxx
Her phone beeped again, almost instantly, and Debbie opened the text thinking it would be Angela again. She flushed with pleasure when she realised it was from Stevie:
Hey darling, not sure if this is allowed, but just wanted to say how much I love u &I can’t wait for tomoro. Olly finally in bed so just opened my pres. You look amazing! Seriously amazing! When did you get them done? Can’t wait to ravish you tomoro night wifey ;) xxxxx
In the darkness, Debbie grinned to herself. She thought the photos looked pretty amazing too, even if she did say so herself. Marcus had done a brilliant job with the sultry lighting and stylish setting, and Debbie had had her favourite shots made into a book, which is what she’d given to Stevie, all tied up with a big red bow.
Thanks babe, thrilled u like them. I can keep secrets too ;) Can’t wait for that ravishing but we’ve got to get married 1st! See u tomorrow fiance (last time I can call u that!!) Love u with all my heart xxxxx
Debbie set her phone back down, realising that now she’d heard from Stevie, she suddenly felt much calmer. She wriggled down beneath the duvet, snuggling into the pillow and closing her eyes. She fell asleep within minutes, a smile on her face, knowing that when she woke up in a few hours’ time, it would finally be her wedding day.
34
‘Never marry for money. Ye’ll borrow it cheaper’ – Scottish proverb
Aimee’s head was swimming. Someone handed her a glass of champagne and she gratefully accepted it, answering the same questions over and over again with the same answers and a polite smile.
‘So just over a week to go until the big day, are you excited?’
‘Do you realise how lucky you are, marrying into the Cunningham family?’
‘You must be so grateful to Valerie for everything she’s done.’
Aimee nodded, trying her best to sound sincere. ‘Yes, Jon and I couldn’t have managed without her.’
‘Valerie really does have impeccable taste,’ gushed the Vice President of the Horticultural Society – or was it the Heraldry Society? Aimee couldn’t remember, and she’d completely forgotten the woman’s name. ‘I’m sure it’s going to be such a wonderful occasion. I know how much hard work Valerie’s put into this wedding. She even left the AGM early because she wanted to accompany Jon to his appointment at the tailor’s. Isn’t that sweet?’
‘She’s been wonderful,’ Aimee lied, glancing across to where Valerie was schmoozing the local MP. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to phone my parents. I can’t think where they are.’
With a sigh of relief, Aimee extricated herself from the throng of people and bolted through the French doors out into the back garden. It was a deliciously warm summer’s evening, the sun only now beginning its descent in the hazy sky. The birds were still singing, as bees buzzed lazily from one brightly coloured flower to the next. But Aimee was far too stressed to appreciate how pretty the scene was.
She’d been summoned to Valerie’s house, supposedly to go through the final arrangements with Julia, but Valerie had turned the occasion into some sort of pre-wedding drinks party, inviting everyone from the registrar to the local Master of the Hunt. Guests were spilling through from the living room to the dining room, where tray after tray of canapés had been laid out, and the champagne was flowing like water.
The only people who were missing were the ones Aimee wanted there most of all – her mum and dad. Aimee had asked them to arrive for seven o’clock, and it was now almost eight. It was so unlike her parents to be late; they’d never been to Valerie’s before, and she wondered if they’d got lost trying to find the house. Both her parents’ mobiles were going straight to voicemail, whilst their home number just rang and rang.
‘Aimee, what are you doing out here? Everyone’s looking for you.’
Jon stepped out onto the terrace, looking handsome and stylish in stone-coloured chinos and a pale blue Ralph Lauren shirt.
Aimee laughed humourles
sly. ‘I doubt it. I don’t know any of them.’
‘And you won’t get to know any of them unless you go back in there and talk to them, instead of hiding out here. They’ll all be at the wedding next week, so it’d be nice if you’d make an effort.’
‘I was calling my parents,’ Aimee shot back, holding up her phone as though that constituted proof.
‘Yes, I was wondering where they were.’ There was a clear note of disapproval in his voice.
‘I’m worried. They’re never late to things, and neither of them are picking up their phones.’
‘It’s probably just Friday night traffic. You know how busy it can get when everyone’s leaving work.’
‘At eight pm?’
‘Well maybe their car’s broken down. That old banger was on its last legs anyway,’ Jon smirked.
‘Look, would you do me a favour?’ Aimee asked, trying to ignore her fiancé’s spiteful comments. ‘Could you just pop out the front, see if you can see anything? They might be driving up and down the road, not sure which house it is.’
Jon sighed. ‘I’m sure they’ll be fine, Aimee. Don’t they have a sat nav or something? Or are they incapable of reading door numbers?’
‘The house is set back from the road, it’s impossible to see the sign. Please Jon, just to set my mind at rest.’
‘This is supposed to be our party. There are people in there I want to talk to. I don’t want to spend my time running up and down the street on a wild goose chase.’
‘Fine, I’ll go myself,’ Aimee snapped, pushing past him. He reached out to grab her arm, his fingertips digging in with surprising force. She pulled away angrily, her hand instinctively cradling the skin where he’d held her.