A Bride for the Runaway Groom

by Wilson, Scarlet

  There was no getting away from it. Saturday night on the streets was going to be make or break for her and Will. He knew it. And she knew it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT WAS THE final dress fitting. Daisy was back now with her ever expanding tiny bump. The green dress covered it to perfection and standing side by side the three sisters in their green, blue and purple dresses made a striking picture.

  Sherry clapped her hands. ‘Oh, my beautiful girls. You all look perfect.’

  Rose tugged at her hair. ‘Do we need a tiara or a fascinator or something?’

  Sherry exchanged a look with Violet. ‘We’ve got that all under control. You’ll have a fresh flower for your hair.’

  Daisy was distracted. She sat down and eyed her jewelled sandals suspiciously. ‘Can I wear Converse instead?’

  ‘No,’ Sherry said swiftly. She held up an alternative pair of flat jewelled sandals. ‘I’ve got you flatties for the night. You only need to wear the heels for the renewal vows.’

  Sherry turned to Rose. ‘Everything is ready? Everything is done?’

  Rose nodded and started to reel everything off. ‘Marquees will be set up the day before. Violet’s taking care of the flowers, Daisy the photographs. Dad’s backup band is organised. The chairs and tables come the day before. The favours and cake are organised—along with the menu. Everything will be perfect, Mum, you don’t need to worry about a thing.’

  Sherry enveloped her in a hug. ‘That’s why we trust you with everything, honey. You’re just so good at organising. I don’t know what we’d do without you.’

  Rose beamed; she didn’t even know about the bangle yet. Her mother would be delighted. But Violet didn’t look delighted. Violet looked mad. As if her mother’s words had just irked her.

  Rose had no idea what was going on. But she’d too much to think about right now.

  And most of her thoughts were around a runaway groom...

  * * *

  He could hardly even see her face. The hood of her parka came right down over her nose. He stuck his face inside. ‘Is anyone alive in here?’

  ‘You said it would be cold. I’m just trying to make sure I’ll be warm.’

  He slid his arm around her shoulders. ‘It will be cold. But I’ll do my best to keep you warm.’

  She glanced around. There were a number of people in the homeless shelter drinking tea and soup. ‘What time does this place close?’

  ‘Eleven.’

  ‘And where does everyone go then?’ She was looking around at the array of figures in the room. Most weren’t dressed very well; all of them were in layers. He saw her look down and knew exactly what she’d see. Lots of the people who slept on the streets had shoes that were mismatched and falling apart. Once they found a pair of shoes that fitted they wore them until they literally fell off their feet.

  ‘That’s just the point. I guess we’ll find out.’

  Rose inched a little closer to him. Will was used to coming here. He often came and helped out in the food kitchen. He wasn’t fazed by the sometimes unkempt people that used it. This place was a safe haven. Somewhere they could be fed and get a few hours’ warmth. It was staffed completely by volunteers and Will would like nothing more than for it to be open for longer.

  As the staff in the kitchen started to clean and tidy up Will moved forward to help. Rose was right by his side, washing dishes and cleaning worktops. It was all hands on deck here.

  By the time they locked the front doors darkness had fallen. Rose was glancing around at the people gathered in small clumps around the door. Few words were exchanged. Most were trying to decide where to stay safe for the night.

  ‘I had no idea so many people stayed on the streets,’ she whispered. ‘Can’t they get emergency accommodation from the council?’

  Will shook his head. ‘Some of these people have been through the system—some haven’t. A few have addiction problems and weren’t able to manage a tenancy even though the council had found one for them. Managing money is a skill that some people find really difficult. There’s just not enough support out there.’

  A thin, wiry teenage boy walked past, head down and hands in his pockets. Rose sucked in a breath. ‘Will,’ she whispered, ‘he doesn’t even look sixteen.’

  Will’s heart squeezed. ‘That’s Alfie. And he’s seventeen. He’s been on the streets for the last two years and he won’t let me help him. I’ve tried.’

  Rose looked horrified. ‘Why on earth would a kid that age end up on the streets?’

  Will shook his head. ‘That’s just it. He won’t say. And he’s one of about twenty kids I know that really shouldn’t be here.’ He nudged her with his elbow and pointed across the road. ‘That’s Danny, one of the voluntary workers. He’ll spend most of the night keeping watch over the young ones to try and keep them safe. He’s a real godsend.’

  Rose’s brow was wrinkled and she turned to face him. ‘I don’t get it. Why don’t these kids want to be under a roof and sleeping in a bed?’

  ‘Because not all homes are like yours and mine. Not all homes are safe. I suspect some of these kids have come through the care system and slipped through the net. Others are escaping abuse. Some have mental health disorders that make it difficult for them to cope.’ He looked around and pointed towards a group of middle-aged men. ‘And it’s not just the young ones. Last year they estimated around three thousand people slept rough in London, people who just don’t have family or friends to help them. Lots of them ended up homeless because of redundancy or domestic abuse. There’s a whole host of different reasons people end up like this.’

  Rose slipped her hand into his. ‘Your friend. How is he?’

  Will felt himself bristle. It was the whole reason he was here but it was still a sore point. He still felt as if he’d let his friend down. ‘He’s getting there. It took a long time before he’d let anyone help him. That’s just it. I could stand here in the street and announce I’d give everyone somewhere safe to sleep for the night but most of them wouldn’t believe me—wouldn’t trust me. They wouldn’t come.’ His voice was tinged with sadness as Rose’s fingers curled around his own. He couldn’t imagine being here with anyone else. He couldn’t ever have imagined any of his previous girlfriends agreeing to do this with him—he wouldn’t have wanted them to.

  But this was different. This was important to him. And if the decision he’d made about Rose was right, this was the kind of thing he needed to share with her—he needed her to understand.

  He pointed to the dark streets. ‘Are you sure you’re okay with this?’ She looked nervous, even though she was obviously trying her best not to.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said quietly before adding, ‘I’m with you.’

  He nodded and took a few steps down the street. ‘Then let’s go. Let’s see how you survive on the streets at night.’

  * * *

  This London was completely different from the London that Rose knew. She wasn’t naïve. She knew people slept rough and there were homeless hostels all over London but, while she’d taken part in a lot of charity work with her parents, she’d never worked in any of these places.

  London at night for Rose and her sisters had involved trendy streets and clubs. Coming out late at night, clamouring into a cab and grabbing some food from an eatery on the way home. The streets they were walking down now were unfamiliar to Rose. Dark, damp, creepy.

  Will took her down alleyways, stopping by rubbish bins to speak to people hidden in the shadows. Handing out biscuits and cards with addresses for assistance. As the cold crept around them and the night became even darker they kept going. Tramping unfamiliar streets without fear. Occasionally they met other workers, voluntary organisations and a few cops on the beat. Will seemed to recognise most of them, stopping to compare notes and talk about trouble spots. A fe
w made jokes about his press coverage, though all thanked him for trying to raise the issue.

  Fatigue started to settle in. Her muscles were tiring. The cold was creeping down to her very bones. Will steered her towards one of the bridges spanning the Thames. ‘This is a hotspot,’ he murmured. ‘Lots of people sleep under this bridge at night. Stay close. Fights sometimes break out.’

  The rain had started to fall. Thick, heavy drops that soaked straight through her jacket. They hurried under the bridge. There was no lighting under here. It was almost completely black with only a flicker from the occasional match somewhere.

  At the other side there was a fight starting over some cardboard boxes. Rose drew close to Will, wrapping her arms around his waist and shielding her face away. The fight ended as quickly as it had started, with the victor claiming his spoils and arranging his cardboard box on the ground.

  ‘They were fighting over a cardboard box?’ Rose whispered.

  Will nodded. ‘You’ve no idea what has value on the street. Especially on a night like this. Here.’ He pulled her over to the wall under the bridge and pulled her down next to him. The cold concrete quickly wound its way through her clothes and she shifted on the ground. Will still had his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled closer to get some body heat. ‘Are we going to stay here?’

  It all seemed so alien to her. So cold. So uncomfortable. So unsafe.

  He nodded. ‘This is it. This is where a lot of the people on the streets spend the night. How long do you think you could actually sleep for?’

  ‘I don’t think I can sleep at all,’ she whispered, not wanting to offend any of the huddled figures around her.

  ‘I know. But we have to try. We have to understand what it is these people go through every night. That’s the message I want to get out there.’

  Something struck her. ‘What happened to the reporter?’

  Will sighed. ‘He got waylaid with something else. He interviewed me earlier and I’ve got a little camera attached to the pocket of my jacket. He should pick up some things from that.’

  Rose put her hand on the freezing ground. ‘But he won’t pick up this. He won’t pick up how cold it is out here. He won’t get how the wind whistles under the bridge and the raindrops still reach you even though you’re in the middle.’

  Will smiled. ‘But you do.’

  Something fleeted across her face. ‘Yeah, but I don’t like it, Will. I’d be terrified if I was here myself. I can’t stand the thought of living every night like this.’

  He looked out over the darkness of the still water of the Thames. ‘This is where Arral used to sleep at night.’

  ‘Your friend?’

  He nodded. ‘I still can’t fathom how it happened. How a guy who did so well at university, got his first job and flat just ended up on a downward spiral that ended up with him stabbed and in hospital.’ He shook his head as he looked at the bodies huddled around them. ‘Arral was married. But when he lost his job and his home, his wife just upped and left. She didn’t take her vows seriously. The whole for better or worse part just seemed to pass her by. I’ve thought about it for the last few years. How marriage was about good and bad.’ He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. ‘It always made me second-guess things. It always made me scrutinise my relationships. Would this person still want to grow old with me if I didn’t have the fancy house, jobs and cars? It made me question my abilities to choose wisely.’

  She frowned. ‘But I’ve met all four of them. Marta and Angie seemed nice. Both of them weren’t bitter. They knew they weren’t destined to be with you. Esther is focused on her media career. And Melissa?’ She shrugged. ‘She seems to have her own demons. I doubt very much you can do anything about them.’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘This place gives you a whole new perspective on life, doesn’t it?’ She was looking around. Looking at the array of faces, some hidden beneath hoods or cardboard boxes. There was a real mixture of people here. Mainly young and middle-aged. There were around forty people under this bridge, but only two she would have termed elderly.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She shivered and huddled a little closer. ‘Yes. I’m just remembering, I guess.’

  ‘Remembering what?’

  ‘My friend, Autumn,’ she said sadly. ‘She died from a drug overdose at a party one night. We were both there, but I made bad choices that night. We both did.’ Her voice started to shake. ‘No one knows, Will. But I knew that Autumn had dabbled with drugs before. I knew and I still left her alone that night to go off with some guy. I wasn’t a silly teenager. I was a twenty-four-year-old woman and I left my friend behind. I let her down. I let myself down. And I let my parents down. They had to deal with the fallout of my actions. They had to deal with my bad choices.’ She was ashamed to say those words out loud. What would Will think of her now he knew all about her flaws? ‘I wonder how many of these people didn’t even get to make a choice to end up here?’ she murmured. ‘It seems so unfair.’

  Will nodded. She couldn’t really tell him how horrible she found this.

  ‘I had family. I had a really strong family. My dad took over. He came with me to speak to Autumn’s parents. He was there for hours.’ She glanced up at Will. ‘People just don’t realise what my dad is made of. “Rock star” doesn’t equate with supportive parent.’ Will gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘But after the funeral was over I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take the bad press. I’m not a good person, Will. I’m the most flawed person you could meet.’ She was shaking her head in disbelief.

  ‘I went to New York to escape. To start again.’ She held up her hand as the tears formed in her eyes. ‘But now I feel a thoroughly pathetic human being. I didn’t feel strong enough to cope—so I left. But what if you don’t have the means to leave?’ Her voice was starting to waver. ‘Or what if the means to leave makes you end up on the street?’ Being out here was scary. Having this as your reality must be terrifying for some of these people. ‘I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t take what the press said about me. I hated having my picture in the paper. I couldn’t take the lies. I didn’t trust my judgement any more and I hated the fact that I felt as if I’d let my parents down. But I still had my family. I still had them around me. Is this what happens when you don’t have family to support you?’

  He tilted her chin up to face him. ‘Rose, you and Violet are two of the strongest people I’ve ever met. The press has had a field day with you both. You, with your friend’s death and Violet, with her leaked sex tape. But it hasn’t dragged either of you down. If anything, it’s made you both stronger. You didn’t run away. You regrouped. You’ve spent the last few years working hard for your dad. You haven’t hid away. And you’ve found something else. You’ve found something that you love—your jewellery making. And you’ve worked hard at that, too. How does that make you weak? How does that make you a failure? We’ve all got to take what life throws at us and deal with it the best we can.’

  He stroked a finger down her face. ‘Is this it, Rose? Is this what you’re so afraid of? The press putting things you can’t control about you in the papers? Letting your parents down? Trusting your judgement?’

  He gave a gentle laugh. ‘Have faith, Rose. Have faith in yourself. Because I have faith in you, and so does every member of your family. You’ve organised your parents’ renewal vows in record time. They trusted you to do that.’ He emphasised the words by pressing his palm against her chest. ‘They trusted your judgement—even if you don’t.’ He leaned closer. ‘And I trust your judgement, Rose, more than you can ever know.’

  His face nuzzled against hers, his cold nose sending little delicious waves down her chilled bones. ‘Do you think I would have brought anyone else here? Do you think any of my previous girlfriends would even have made an attempt to understand this?’ She could hear the conviction in his voice. He really belie
ved in what he was saying. ‘It could only ever have been you, Rose. Just you. You’re the only person I could share this with.’

  He straightened a little. ‘I told you about Arral and his wife leaving. I told you that in the lead-up to my weddings I started to have doubts. Doubts about whether I could see myself growing old with that person.’ He touched her cheek. ‘I don’t have any doubts about you, Rose. I can see myself growing old with you. You’ve got to give us a chance. You’ve got to know that this is real between us.’

  There they were. The words she’d thought she wanted to hear. Every ounce of him believed what he was saying. How could she tell him that even though he was sure, she was the one with doubts?

  Realisation was seeping through her with the cold concrete beneath her. This wasn’t really about him. This was about her.

  Will might well be the Runaway Groom. It was a label that was never going to disappear. Every instinct told her to trust him. Every instinct told her to believe what he was saying.

  But she hadn’t learned to trust her instincts again yet. It was the one thing that was holding her back. The wary part of her brain said he was in the first flush of romance again. That in a few months none of this would be real. How well could you possibly know someone after a few weeks?

  But then there was Daisy. She’d had one night with Seb and returned weeks later to give him baby news. They’d married in the space of a few weeks, and, while there might have been a few initial doubts, on their wedding day their faces hadn’t lied. It was two people, totally in love with each other, who’d said those vows. If it worked for Daisy—why not for her?

  It was so easy to get sucked in. Will was gorgeous. Will was charming. And even on a wet, rainy, cold night he made her feel like the most special person in the universe.

  ‘Once we get through this, let’s go someplace else. Let’s go someplace it’s just the two of us. I didn’t want to share this with anyone else, Rose. And I don’t want to share you either.’ His lips were hovering just above her own. His warm breath heating her skin.