by Lynda Renham
I lay my head back and take a deep breath as he pushes a CD into the music player. I’d just inhaled and was about to exhale slowly when Tony Bennett’s It Had to Be You begins to play. I snap open my eyes, exhale and stare at the chauffeur, is this some kind of joke? I mean of all the bloody songs he must have in his little collection he chooses to play this one.
‘Perfect huh?’ he says, smiling at me through the rear-view mirror.
He begins to sing along.
‘Played this at my own wedding, what’s your song?’ he asks.
I feel Dad pull his jacket sleeve up to check the time on his watch and all I can think is, this is our song. Not Oliver’s and mine but William’s and mine. I struggle to think of a song that Oliver and I share and realise we don’t actually have one. We’d chosen to start the dancing with When a Man Loves a Woman but I was surprised Oliver didn’t want to start it with Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a Pirate’s Life For Me. God, have I gone completely mad? I’m marrying the wrong sodding man and it takes me to be in the bloody wedding car to finally realise it. I can’t marry a man who plays pirate computer games, not to mention playing them for real during our lovemaking. Most of all, I can’t marry someone just because I’m thirty and I ought to be marrying someone, most of all I can’t marry Oliver because I love someone else. I may not be able to marry William and maybe William doesn’t want to marry me, well, I’m quite certain William doesn’t want to marry me. Who would want to marry me when they can marry someone like Andrea, with her big breasts and stick-thin legs, not to mention her natural elegance and sophistication which I could never ever hope to achieve? But just because I’m not Miss Perfect it doesn’t mean I have to marry Mr Not-So-Perfect does it? I don’t have to settle for second best just because the clock is ticking do I? Of course you do, whispers a voice. He’s waiting for you. The reception is booked, the food is prepared, all the guests are arriving, and presents have been bought. In other words, your face is on the tea towel now. Christ, can you imagine if there really were tea towels with Oliver’s and my face on them? I cringe at the thought. Plus, continues the voice, your dad is in the car with you, Muffy is waiting at the church, the vicar is primed and ready to go. You can’t back out now, and besides do you remember what your wedding dress cost?
Oh fuck it.
‘Dad, can I use your mobile?’ I say breathlessly.
He shakes his head.
‘I didn’t bring it dear.’
Shit, shit.
‘Do you want to borrow mine love? Everything all right?’ asks the chauffer.
No everything is as wrong as wrong can be.
‘Yes, I mean no, everything is not fine but yes, can I borrow it for a sec.’
The minute he hands it to me I realise I don’t know Muffy’s number. Oh for God’s sake. How can I not know her number? I hate technology; it makes me not know my best friend’s phone number. She’s just down as Muffy in my contacts. That’s not natural is it? Why didn’t I bring my bag? Because brides don’t carry bags, you idiot, whispers the voice. God, I hope Muffy has her phone with her.
‘Here we go,’ says the chauffeur and I see the church approaching. Oh buggery fuck. Muffy stands at the entrance all smiles, holding her bouquet delicately in her hands, and the photographer is positioned ready to capture the moment that I step out of the Rolls. I scrutinise Muffy to see if she has a bag, but there is nothing. Oh, buggety bugger it all. Douglas waves and rushes into the church, no doubt to tell Oliver that the bride has arrived. God, this is getting worse by the second.
‘You’ve got to get out Dad,’ I say.
‘Yes, I know dear, give me a moment and then Muffy and I can help you out with the dress.’
Dear God, please don’t let my dad have a heart attack.
‘Dad, you need to get out and Muffy needs to get in. I’m the one not getting out of the car.’
‘What?’ says Dad and the chauffeur in unison.
‘Oh no, I hate it when this happens,’ moans the driver.
‘I don’t understand,’ says Dad halfway between getting out of the car and staying in it.
Muffy stands by the door looking confused. She peeks in almost headbutting my dad.
‘What’s going on?’ she asks.
‘She’s not getting out of the car,’ says the driver.
‘Oh God,’ she groans.
‘Do you have your Blackberry,’ I hiss.
‘What,’ she says fiddling with the bouquet, like she doesn’t now know what she is supposed to do with it.
‘Do you have your Blackberry?’ I repeat pushing Dad out of the car.
‘Oh dear,’ he mumbles. ‘Is it that you can’t get out of the car or …?’
‘I can’t go through with it,’ I say with a little sob. ‘Tell Oliver I’m terribly sorry.’
‘Oh cock it,’ groans Muffy.
‘Is that a yes?’ I snap.
‘What?’ she asks helping my dad from the car.
‘Do you have your …’ I shout.
‘Yes,’ she yells.
‘Get in.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ says the driver.
‘Don’t worry you’ll get paid,’ I say.
‘Christ Binki, have you lost your mind?’ asks Muffy, hesitating by the door.
‘Oh dear, oh dear, what do I tell your mother?’ says Dad.
I can’t stand this. I pull Muffy into the car and she almost falls into my lap. The photographer captures the moment with a shot of Muffy falling into the car.
‘Just drive,’ I shout to the chauffeur.
‘But …’
‘Please,’ I beg.
He shoots off and Muffy looks at my dad appealingly through the back window.
‘Just wait until I tell the wife about this one,’ grins the driver.
‘Please turn that music off too,’ I plead.
‘Where are we going?’ asks Muffy. ‘You’re not Julia Roberts doing a scene from Runaway Bride you know. Christ Binki, you can’t just jilt him at the altar.’
‘She jumped on a horse,’ I say.
Muffy pulls off her headdress.
‘Well I’m glad we clarified that. You still can’t jilt him at the altar, I mean cock it all Binki, you’ve had weeks to call it off.’
‘Cock it, that’s a new one. I must tell the wife,’ says the driver.
‘It’s all your fault,’ I say pointing a finger at him.
He looks at me through his mirror.
‘What did I do?’ he asks defensively.
‘Yes, what did he do?’ asks Muffy struggling to get the pearl garland back into her hair.
‘He played It Had to Be You, that’s our song.’
‘We don’t have a song,’ Muffy says, looking confused.
‘Not our song, of course we don’t have one. It’s the song William and I shared, and I realised …’
‘Oh God,’ groans Muffy. ‘Not bloody William.’
‘Who’s William?’ asks the driver.
‘Do yourself a favour and keep your eyes on the road. You really don’t want to hear any more of this because it just gets worse,’ groans Muffy pushing her hand down her cleavage and producing her mobile like a magician.
‘I’ve seen everything now,’ he grins.
‘Eyes on the road,’ she reprimands. ‘We need to turn back and you have to marry Oliver, phone Douglas now. Tell him you had last minute nerves but you’ve realised it was silly and you’re on your way back,’ she says firmly, handing me the phone.
I stare at her.
‘Turn around now, sorry what’s your name?’ she asks the driver.
‘Max,’ he says.
‘Turn around now Max.’
Max swerves to take the next turning.
‘No,’ I scream. ‘Muffy what the hell are you doing? I need to tell William it is him I love. Even if there is no future in it, I don’t care. I have to tell him and I can’t marry someone I no longer love. Max, keep going to Hampstead Heath please.’
‘Bloody hell,’ he mum
bles doing a three-sixty degree turn in the middle of the road.
‘Christ,’ mumbles Muffy. ‘Binki, William is marrying Andrea today. You can’t tell him anything and you can’t throw away your one chance of marriage. You may never get another one, and Oliver is a good man isn’t he?’
What does she mean William is marrying Andrea today, he can’t be. He would have told me, surely. Oh God no, he can’t be?
‘He can’t be?’ I whisper.
‘It’s all over her Twitter page,’ she says softly, taking the phone off me and scrolling into it.
‘This morning, first thing: so excited, can’t believe the big day is here. See you all later.’
‘That doesn’t mean she’s getting married,’ I say, feeling a small sense of relief.
‘A bit later: can’t wait to see William in his top and tails, so sexy.’
‘Still doesn’t …’ I begin.
‘Ten minutes ago: Car arriving soon & we’ll be on our way to the church. Love my dress so much, thank u Carla #wedding’
‘That clinches it,’ says Max.
‘Shut up Max,’ I snap.
‘He’s marrying Andrea, and that’s it Binki, and you should marry Oliver,’ says Muffy, putting her hand on mine.
‘Good advice,’ says Max.
I glare at him through the mirror.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbles.
I close my eyes and remember the last time I had seen William, and our kiss in the taxi and his words,
‘C’est la vie, I always leave things too late.’
I must not do the same thing. I can’t leave things too late. It’s the first day of the rest of his life, what if it is a mistake? He loves me too, I feel sure he does.
‘I still have to tell him. I’m sorry Muffy. If you don’t want to come with me I understand but I have to do this.’
I hold my breath. She pulls off the headdress and says,
‘Phone William.’
I frown.
‘I don’t know his number. It’s in my phone.’
She sighs.
‘Okay, let’s try to find out where the church is. Maybe she has updated. Hang on.’
I wait patiently.
‘Okay, latest update: On our way to St Andrews Church. Feel like a princess #wedding
‘Where is St Andrew’s church?’ I lean forward to ask Max.
‘There are loads,’ he stammers.
‘In Hampstead Heath?’ asks Muffy.
‘I don’t know, about six I think. Is it Catholic? If you knew that we could eliminate a few, but you can’t be sure it is in Hampstead Heath. It could be anywhere,’ says Max.
‘Oh God,’ I groan.
Muffy sighs and scrolls through the stream again
‘Do you think William would marry in a Catholic church?’ she asks.
I shake my head.
‘I don’t think so, but maybe he would for Andrea.’
Her phone rings making us jump.
‘Fuck, it’s Oliver,’ Muffy shrieks, throwing it into my lap. I click the off button quickly.
‘This is terrible,’ Muffy groans.
I scroll through the stream again and see a new update.
‘One of the oldest churches in England, how cool is that? Pics to follow. #thebigday’
Max bangs the steering wheel.
‘It could be the one in Launcester Street,’ he says, ‘that’s old.’
Please God, please let it be the one.
‘Let’s go,’ says Muffy.
Chapter Forty
Meanwhile at the church
Bernard stands stunned and watches the Rolls-Royce disappear around the corner. He would still have been standing there if Bella hadn’t come out of the church to see what was going on. Douglas, seeing her leave taps Oliver on the shoulder.
‘All systems go me matey. I’m just checking everything is shipshape before ye walk the plank.’
Oliver doesn’t reply and Douglas grimaces. His friend had barely spoken since leaving the flat. Mind you, he can imagine the poor bugger is feeling pretty rough. Let’s face it getting married is the same as castration in his opinion. If you can only give it to one woman what’s the bloody point of having it? A woman in every port was Douglas’s motto. If you can make a hundred women happy then that’s your duty, surely.
‘Just be a sec,’ he whispers to Oliver.
Oliver nods and then sighs. He feels sick and can’t stop thinking about the texts Amanda had sent him. He ought to phone her but his brain is in such a whirl. Christ, of all the bloody days.
Douglas follows Bella outside to see Bernard and the photographer standing on the kerb. He looks around for Binki and Muffy. Maybe the car has broken down, that can happen but what the hell has happened to Muffy? She was here five minutes ago. Bella shrieks and buries her head in her hands. Oh God, this isn’t bloody good, then again if this means old matey getting off the hook that’s not such a bad thing.
‘Everything okay?’ he asks, knowing full well if there is no bloody bride then everything is far from okay.
‘My daughter must be having a breakdown,’ sobs Bella. ‘I can’t think of any other reason for her behaving in this fashion.’
‘What fashion would that be?’ asks Douglas.
‘She threw me out of the car and asked me to tell Oliver she’s really sorry but she can’t go through with it.’
‘Is there a problem?’ whispers the vicar as he approaches Douglas.
‘She’s not turning up mate,’ Douglas replies.
‘Who is going to tell Oliver,’ sobs Bella.
‘Tell me what?’
At the sight of Oliver, Bella throws herself into his arms.
‘For goodness’ sake Bella, pull yourself together, it’s a wedding not a funeral,’ says Bernard.
‘It may as well be,’ cries Bella. ‘She’s thrown her whole life away.’
‘She’s not coming, me old matey,’ says Douglas to Oliver, before whispering, ‘A lucky escape if you ask me you jammy bastard.’
‘Where is she?’ Oliver asks Bernard.
‘No idea son, she pulled Muffy into the roller and they shot off. They’ve probably gone back to our house,’ says Bernard.
‘Oh God,’ sobs Bella. ‘The neighbours will think she’s been jilted and not the other way around.’
‘Perhaps best not to rub it in,’ whispers Douglas, looking at Oliver’s ashen face.
‘Give her a bit of time, you never know …’ begins Bernard.
‘I’ve another wedding in an hour,’ butts in the vicar.
‘Oh, yes of course, stupid, I just thought …’
‘Bernard do shut up,’ snaps Bella.
‘Do you want me to give her a bell?’ asks Douglas. ‘You know, just to make sure she isn’t coming back?’
‘She doesn’t have her phone,’ says Bernard.
‘I’ll call Muffy,’ says Oliver calmly.
They all look hopefully on as Oliver taps in Muffy’s number. A few seconds pass before Oliver says,
‘She’s not answering.’
‘Douglas, can you phone the Dorchester and tell them the reception is cancelled. Bernard, do you mind telling the congregation. I can’t face going back inside.’
‘Of course not,’ says Bella putting a comforting arm around him.
He nods at her and gently releases himself.
‘I need a walk,’ he says.
‘I’ll kill her Bernard, I swear I will. What can she be thinking of,’ Bella sighs.
‘I imagine she has decided that she doesn’t want this to be the first day of the rest of her life,’ he says philosophically, walking towards the church.
Douglas and Bella watch Oliver stroll away from them with his head bowed.
‘Poor bugger,’ says Douglas searching on Google for The Dorchester’s phone number while thinking lucky old sod.
‘I hope he doesn’t do anything silly,’ says Bella worriedly.
Fortunately he can’t now, Douglas thinks with a grin.
Chapter Forty-One
‘This is the oldest is it?’ asks Muffy with a tremble in her voice. ‘It doesn’t look that old.’
‘Well I’m not an expert on churches. I’ve just driven to a lot. This is the oldest St Andrew’s in this area that I know of,’ says Max. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
No I’m not sure at all. In fact I’m starting to think it is the worst idea I’ve ever had. Guests are arriving and I feel my nerve go. Perhaps I should just go back and marry Oliver. I hope he’s okay. I did try and phone him but it just went into his voicemail. I’d apologised profusely, saying it was the best thing for both of us. Of course I don’t imagine he feels it is the best thing at the moment. I’m trying so hard not to think of all the presents and the food, not to mention the honeymoon which has been booked and paid for, and all the guests that have travelled to get there. I turn to Muffy.
‘Update,’ I say.
‘There isn’t one,’ she says, looking at her phone.
‘Go in and check,’ I say, giving her a little shove.
She gapes at me.
‘What, are you serious? Have you looked at me lately? I’m dressed like a bridesmaid. It’s not like I’m incognito is it? And the last I recall, Andrea Garcia didn’t ask me to be one at her wedding.’
What’s she talking about? It’s the best incognito ever surely. No one will look twice at a bridesmaid will they?
‘But they’ll be expecting bridesmaids won’t they?’ I say. ‘So no one will think it odd.’
She shakes her head.
‘Yes, but they’re not expecting other people’s bridesmaids. I rather think Andrea Garcia will recognise her own bridesmaid, or are you hoping she may have forgotten who they are? Christ Binki, I can’t believe we are even seriously considering this.’