by Sue Shepherd
‘Lisa, please …’
‘Now, then. Where did you put his phone number?’
‘Please don’t do this. I know you’ve got your doubts about James. But … I’ll tell him, I’ll explain I can’t be his everything. I’ll ask him what happened with his mates from home. The real reason, I mean. Not some stupid story about borrowing money. I’ll find out exactly what you need to know. But please …’
She watched, helplessly, as her body moved over to the bedside table. Her hand reached into the drawer and, after scrabbling around for a second, that same hand took out the screwed-up receipt for the chocolate bar Charlie had long ago eaten. Her eyes read the numbers. Her hand reached for her mobile phone.
‘Please don’t call him, Lisa. I honestly don’t want this.’
‘Bang, bang, bang, Beth. Your heart told me something different!’
Forty-one
Beth gazed into the full-length mirror in her parents’ room. ‘This dress is beautiful.’ She couldn’t take her eyes off the many layers of organza.
Michelle agreed. ‘You look amazing.’
‘Thank you. You look great too.’
Michelle danced her way out of the room, swishing the netting underskirt of her dark pink dress, as she went.
Beth asked Lisa, ‘Do you mind?’
‘What about?’ Her tone was somewhat aggressive.
‘Do you mind not being able to wear a beautiful dress?’
‘Why the hell would I want to wear one of those? You do realise you look like a couple of meringues, don’t you?’
‘I don’t care what you say today. I don’t ever want to take this dress off.’
‘Well, you will have to take it off at some point. All this fairy tale crap has got to end sometime. After today, you’ll be James’s wife forever. God help you!’
‘It’s for the best, you know.’
‘What is?’
‘Don’t play dumb. You know what I’m talking about.’
‘It’s for the best, is it?’
‘Yes. You’ll see.’
‘It’s for the best that Charlie Morris had already left the country?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘Well, forgive me if I don’t agree with you. You wanted me to make that phone call and you were as disappointed as I was when his mum told me he was halfway around the friggin’ world.’
‘I didn’t know what I wanted. You’d worked me up into a frenzy. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘Beth, lie to yourself, lie to the twat you’re about to marry, lie to all your family, if that’s what you want to do. But DO NOT bother lying to me.’
‘Let’s just leave it shall we. Michelle’s coming back with a bottle of Cava, and the last thing she needs to see is me upset on my wedding day.’
‘Heaven forbid!’
They were soon halfway through the bottle. In actual fact, Michelle was halfway through it. Beth made sure to only have one glass. Whatever else happened today, Lisa simply must not be allowed out.
Nanna popped her head around the bedroom door and asked Michelle if she could have a quick word with Beth alone.
Michelle took herself off to the kitchen, intent on drinking the rest of the Cava. Beth gave her strict instructions. ‘Don’t get drunk and do not spill ANYTHING on that dress.’
‘I won’t. I promise!’
Nanna made her way over to the bed. ‘Sit here, darling.’ She patted the place next to her. ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Of course. I just want to say something.’
‘You’re going to make me cry, aren’t you?’
‘Not intentionally.’ Nanna patted the bed again. ‘Sit, sit, I won’t bite.’
Beth did as she was told.
Soon it was time to join her dad in the hall. He was a jibbering wreck. ‘I’ve forgotten all the things you told me to do. I can’t remember what to say, when to sit down, when to stand up. Christ, I’m not even sure I could tell you my own name.’ He tugged at his collar and dabbed at the beads of sweat on his head, with a large white handkerchief.
‘Stop worrying, Don. It’ll all come back to you.’
Beth took his arm and led him to the front of the house, where they posed for a couple of photographs. Then they walked to the car. Michelle, Pat and Nanna had gone on ahead in the first car. Don and Beth set off to circle the block, just to be sure the others had enough time to get to the registry office before them.
In the car, Don seemed to be struggling with his emotions. ‘You have no idea, do you?’
‘About what?’
‘How this feels. How I feel right now.’
‘Are you upset?’ Beth faced him.
‘No. I’m proud. Incredibly proud.’
She was relieved. ‘I thought for a moment …’
‘You were our only baby.’
Beth saw no point in contradicting him.
‘Our one little girl. Your mum and I love you very much. We want your happiness more than we want air in our lungs. We want the absolute best for you. Seeing you today, looking like this, so beautiful. It’s …’ Unable to finish, Don took a second handkerchief out of his suit pocket and blew his nose noisily.
They remained in a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip. A trip which consisted of four circuits around the block and a short drive to the registry office. Don blew his nose a total of six times, throughout the short journey.
‘Dad’s a silly old sod, isn’t he?’ There was much affection in Lisa’s voice.
Beth walked into the room on her dad’s arm. Behind her, Michelle tottered along in her high-heels.
As Beth joined James at the front, he mouthed that she looked fantastic.
They made their vows. Agreeing to love each other for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. Beth meant every word. She was determined to make this work.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please join me in saying many congratulations to Mr and Mrs Collier.’ The registrar led the applause.
Husband and wife walked back down the short aisle and out into the grounds for the photographs.
James smiled at his bride. ‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes, of course. You?’ Beth reached up and stroked his face.
‘I’m …’ He took a hold of her right hand. ‘What’s this ring?’
She was shocked at the abrupt change. ‘What? Oh, this? It was Nanna’s engagement ring. She just gave it to me. I’m going to move it to my left hand after today, to go with this.’ She pointed at her brand-new wedding ring. ‘I’m relieved it fits, Nanna has slim fingers, and I was worried ‒’
‘I was going to get you one.’ Unbelievably, James seemed to be pouting.
‘Can you turn and face me?’ the photographer asked.
‘I know you were. But now you don’t have to. We can spend the money you’ve saved on something else, and ‒’
‘Your family think I’m useless. They think I can’t even sort out a bloody engagement ring.’
Joy began to seep out of Beth. ‘No, they don’t. Nanna just wanted me to have it. I thought it was a lovely idea. My grandpa would’ve ‒’
‘Hey, Mr and Mrs Collier. Can you look this way?’ The photographer gave a hearty wave.
The guests were starting to suspect there was a problem. A couple of them were trying to listen in.
‘I just don’t like people thinking I’m a shit husband already.’
‘James, please? No one’s thinking that. It was meant to be a nice thing.’ How on earth can he get this so totally wrong? How can he see it as anything other than a wonderfully generous and sentimental gift?
The photographer clicked his fingers. ‘If you could look this way, I just need to …’
‘All right. We fucking heard you the first time!’ James’s anger burst out. In a second, he’d contained it, and with a charming smile, he added, ‘Sorry, mate. Just a little misunderstanding with the Mrs.’ Turning to Beth, he whispered out of the corner of
his mouth, ‘Come on then. Let’s give the photographer a lovely smile.’
She tried to oblige, but the smile failed to reach her eyes. She was stunned by James’s reaction.
‘Let me out. I want to tell him what I think of him!’
‘That’s not helpful.’
‘Can’t you see how messed up he is?’
‘Perhaps I should’ve told him about the ring in private. Maybe I was wrong to just start wearing it.’
‘Beth, you and I were both touched when Nanna gave you her ring. Those things she said, all the stuff about how much she loved Grandpa, and how she still missed him like crazy. Her absolute belief that there’s someone out there for everybody. She had us both welling up. You’re lucky she didn’t hear the crap that just came out of your new husband’s mouth.’
Beth knew she mustn’t cry. Yes, the odd tear could be explained away as pure joy or emotions. But she was about to start wailing, and she knew she mustn’t.
To her sister, she said, ‘Please forget you heard that. He’s not a bad man, he just …’
The photographer asked for a photo of a smooch. On auto-pilot, she turned her face towards James and met his lips with hers. His kisses were the same as ever, warm and welcome. He whispered, ‘I love you, Mrs Collier.’
‘I … I love you too.’ She knew she would never be able to look at the photographs without remembering how she felt right at that moment – sick with disappointment.
She decided the only way to stop this from spoiling the entire day was to force it from her mind, and try to focus on all the good things. She threw herself into the speeches; laughing raucously at Don’s lame jokes, and giving the expected coy look when James’s speech began with ‘My wife and I’. By the time they were slow dancing to Lionel Richie, she’d almost managed to forget the earlier upset.
‘Lisa, are you OK? You’ve hardly spoken today.’
‘I’m fine. But … I’ve not just married this idiot.’
Forty-two
There was no real honeymoon. Just a long weekend in Dorset, which Pat and Don had paid for as a wedding present. It was a wonderful seventy-two hours. They spent the days in bed, shagging like rabbits, and the nights in the pub. There was no further mention of the ring. Beth often gazed at it, thinking of Malcolm, whom she’d regrettably never met. That ring had meant so much to her nanna, and yet she’d willingly given it away. Beth knew she would wear it forever. If James had saved anything to put towards a ring, he certainly didn’t come forward and offer to spend it on something else. Beth decided to leave well alone.
Before she knew it, they were on their way home from Dorset, and James was his usual charming self. They were husband and wife, and both were looking forward to whatever the future had to offer.
Once home, it wasn’t long before they started thinking about getting a place of their own. The tiny room James rented was no use to anyone, and they didn’t fancy starting married life at Beth’s family home. Pat and Don helped them out with a deposit, and, due to Beth’s steady income from her job at the hairdressers, and James being made permanent with the building firm, they were able to get a mortgage.
With great pride, in the November, they moved into their first home. It was a brand-new house, a two-bedroom place on the new housing estate James had helped build. For months, Beth thanked him for the house. She knew he’d been no more than a labourer, but still, she frequently complimented him on the tiling in the tiny kitchen, or the plumbing in the equally small bathroom. He would take each compliment and reply with a cheeky grin, ‘Glad to be of assistance, madam.’
Michelle often came to stay with them. She’d sleep on their sofa, it was easier than getting a cab when she was drinking. Sometimes, she’d share the sofa with Ricky, and sometimes she came alone. If Ricky didn’t come, they’d still have a good time, just the three of them. James and Michelle would often get drunk and all three would reminisce about the Bondi days.
On a couple of occasions, they tried to play Trivial Pursuits, but James took too long to answer his questions, and the girls got bored of waiting. Also, he hated to lose, whereas neither of the girls had much of a competitive streak, and couldn’t understand his frustration if one of them, by some fluke, beat him. They soon worked out it was best not to play.
It was during one of these visits that Beth overheard a private conversation between Michelle and James.
She’d been out in the kitchen washing up the few plates and things they’d used for their Chinese takeaway, a decadence they rarely allowed themselves. Walking back towards the lounge, she was preparing to ask Michelle if she fancied more wine.
Her hand was on the lounge door, as she heard Michelle say, ‘So, you’ve told her?’
Beth stopped abruptly. Waiting for James to reply. After a second he asked, ‘Why do you care?’
‘Answer me. Have you told her? Yes or no?’
Beth could hear the frustration in her husband’s voice, as he asked, ‘Why are you bringing it up, now?’
Then, Michelle spoke again. ‘I just think it would be better if she knew, and I can’t believe you’ve kept it from her all this time.’
Motionless. Beth tried not to exhale. Waiting for his response.
Just as she thought she might pass out, he answered, ‘Yes, I’ve told her.’
Michelle sounded sceptical. ‘All of it?’
‘YES. Just leave it.’
Even without seeing his face, Beth could tell James was getting angry. She thought she might throw up. What had he told her? Nothing that could be discussed in this way.
‘Well?’ Michelle persisted.
‘Well, what?’
‘What did she say? What’s she going to do about it?’
‘She’s going to do nothing about it. We’re fine. It’s all good.’
‘All good? You’re sure?’
‘Yes. Just … look, she doesn’t want to talk about it. Don’t go asking her what she thinks or anything. Just leave it, OK?’
A deadly silence followed. Beth could picture her friend’s face as she weighed up the situation. Michelle said, ‘OK. But you’d better not be lying to me. I said you should tell her ages ago.’ This was followed by the sound of her rising from her chair. ‘I’ll go and see if she needs a hand clearing up.’
Michelle’s footsteps were muffled as she approached the lounge door. Beth had just a second to tiptoe back to the kitchen.
By the time Michelle joined her, she was pretending to wash up one of the plates she’d already cleaned. She was humming gently under her breath, as she stood at the sink. ‘All right?’ She tried to keep her voice casual, but to her it sounded shaky.
‘Yeah. Fine. You seemed to be taking a while. I thought I’d ‒’
‘Oh, no need. This is the last plate.’
Somehow, she managed to sit through an episode of Have I Got News for You, with the pair of them. She sat still in her chair, clutching her knees to her chest. Hoping to give away none of the thoughts that were going on inside her head. She even attempted a couple of laughs, where the situation called for them, and, once the programme ended, she gave the excuse of a headache, and went to bed.
The house was not large. The walls were thin. She could clearly hear them chatting long into the night. But there was no further mention of the mysterious thing James had supposedly told her.
‘This has got something to do with that day you found them together.’
‘I know. It must have. Oh God, Lisa, what does she know that I don’t?’
‘Why aren’t you down there, demanding an explanation?’
‘I’m scared.’
‘He should be the one who’s scared. He’s the lying, cheating ‒’
‘We don’t know that. We don’t know he’s cheated. We don’t know what he’s done.’
Lisa sounded exasperated. ‘No. We don’t. And we never will know, unless you grab him by the balls and ask him the friggin’ question.’
‘What … what if it’s …’
&
nbsp; ‘Go on?’
‘What if it’s life changing. I mean, what if there’s no coming back from it?’ There was a heavy weight on Beth’s chest. ‘We’ve just got this house. We’ve not long been married. What if it’s something so awful that I HAVE to leave him?’
‘Isn’t it better to know now?’
A thought occurred to Beth. ‘What if I lose them both? I mean if it’s to do with Michelle, I’d have to disown her too.’
‘Well, yes, but the alternative seems to be to lay up here like a coward and let the pair of them get away with this.’
‘I can’t lose them both.’ Beth shook her head. ‘I just can’t.’
‘You should’ve been more insistent at the time. Back in Bondi.’
‘You’re probably right. But I can’t go back and do that now.’
‘So, what are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear it.’
‘You’re fucking kidding me?’
‘No, I’m not. And I’d be grateful if you’d do the same.’
‘Sometimes I don’t believe my friggin’ ears.’
‘Well, in actual fact, they’re my friggin’ ears. And I’m asking you to do what I say.’
Forty-three
Within a couple of years of her own marriage, Beth was delighted to be a bridesmaid for Michelle and Ricky.
They were at the final dress fitting and things weren’t going well.
Through an array of pins, that she seemed to almost permanently store between her lips, the dressmaker mumbled, ‘I’m really surprised it’s this tight. People usually lose weight before they get married. I’ve done nothing but take this dress out.’
‘Sorry. I know I’m a difficult customer.’ Michelle grinned.
‘Well, I can get it to do up, if I use this piece here, but you’d better not put on any more before the wedding. I mean it, Chelle, it’s salad every day for you.’
‘What am I like? Who ate all the pies?’
The dressmaker looked at Beth. ‘Your dress fits fine. You’ve not changed a bit since the first fitting. Take it off and hang it back up, there’s a love.’