by Mike Gayle
Helen nodded. ‘I can’t.’
‘I’m not saying run off with me. I’m not saying please leave him. All I’m saying is what you already know: you can’t go through with this wedding.’
‘You want me to call it off?’
‘Not for my benefit. I’m trying to put the way I feel about you to one side. Right now I’m talking to you like a friend and no friend worth the job description would tell you that going through with this wedding would be the right move.’
Helen pushed her bowl away, glad to dispense with the pantomime of pretending she had any kind of appetite.
‘I can’t do that to him.’
‘Of course you think you can’t,’ said Aiden. ‘But that doesn’t change the facts. You have to tell him the truth and you have to do it sooner rather than later.’
‘It will kill him.’
‘I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But do you really have any option?’
‘I wish I’d never seen you this weekend. I wish I’d just stayed home and locked all the doors.’
‘You think that would have saved you?’
Helen thought about the wedding dress that she hadn’t bought and bit her lip. ‘Why does everything always have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t Phil and I have just been happy as we were?’
‘It’s just the way life is, isn’t it? Some get from A to B via the easy route and people like you and me . . . well we just take a little bit longer to get to where we’re going.’
Helen stood up. ‘I have to go.’
‘What time are you off?’
‘Some time after lunch.’
‘We should talk again before you leave.’ Aiden reached out and touched her arm. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No,’ said Helen flatly, ‘I’m not.’ She made her way back to her friends and took a seat. In a transparent effort not to appear nosey the girls carried on with their conversation as if nothing had happened. Only Yaz acknowledged its significance with a brief meaningful glance.
The girls were discussing the third and final treatment of the weekend: Helen’s wedding-day beauty preparation, a one-hour session in which the spa’s top beautician and hair stylist offered Helen hair and make-up suggestions for the Big Day while the rest of them sat around and sipped glasses of complimentary champagne, ate handmade Belgian chocolates and bolstered her spirits. It was the girls’ gift to Helen, the best way they could think of to see her off into her new life as a married woman. The more they talked about it, the more nauseous Helen felt.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Ros. ‘You don’t look very well.’
‘I don’t think I am,’ said Helen. ‘I think I might go for a lie-down before the treatment.’
Ros offered to take her back up to her room, but before she could even get to her feet Yaz was at her side holding her by the arm.
‘It’s no problem,’ said Yaz quickly, ‘I’ll take her up.’
Helen could tell Ros knew that something was up but thankfully she made no comment. They arranged to meet at the spa later and made their way out of the restaurant.
‘What happened? What did Aiden say?’ asked Yaz the moment they were out of sight.
‘Nothing I didn’t already know. Everything’s a mess, Yaz. Everything. How am I supposed to go through with that treatment feeling the way I do?’
‘How do you feel? I’m not sure I know.’
‘That’s just it, that’s how I feel: unsure. It would be so much easier if I could just blame all this on Aiden. It would be so much more straightforward. But the truth is, I was unsure before I even got here. I’ve been unsure since Phil brought this whole marriage thing up . . . Let’s talk in my room,’ said Helen, ‘maybe if I tell you everything that happened again, we might be able to find a way out of this hole I’ve dug for myself.’
As they passed reception, there, at the desk, quite clearly checking out, was Caitlin.
Helen was hardly in the right frame of mind to deal with her sister-in-law and yet to leave Caitlin to her own devices would be to invite all manner of problems. She was probably contemplating contacting Phil to tell him everything that she knew if she hadn’t done so already.
‘I’ve got to speak to her,’ said Helen as they reached the lift. ‘Just wait here, and then I’ll be straight back.’
She hadn’t the slightest idea what she was going to say to Caitlin but she had to try.
The moment Caitlin finished checking out Helen walked over to meet her.
‘We need to talk.’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’
‘Please, this is really important.’
Caitlin turned away pulling her suitcase behind her. Helen followed her through the main doors to the steps outside. It was another bright and summery day, the sun was so strong that it felt as though she had stepped out of a black and white film into a Technicolor one.
‘Caitlin, please!’
Caitlin continued down the steps so Helen ran ahead of her and stood in her path.
‘Please, I’m begging you! Just stop!’
Caitlin went around her across the gravel towards the car park.
Angry with herself as much as she was with Caitlin, Helen called out after her: ‘You go if it makes you feel better. You hated me from day one and you hate me now and that’s never going to change.’
Caitlin turned around.
‘I don’t know what my brother ever saw in you.’
‘Is that what this is about? That Phil made a decision without consulting you?’
‘And a great job he’s made of it!’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘You know exactly what I mean,’ spat Caitlin.
‘And this is how you want this to end?’
Caitlin’s eyes narrowed. ‘You haven’t seen the half of it.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Whatever you want it to mean. I’m done with you.’
‘No,’ said Helen, ‘I’m done with you. After nine years of putting up with your crap I’m going to give you a present that will make your day: the wedding’s off. You win Caitlin. Phil is all yours! I hope the two of you are well and truly happy together.’
15.
Helen had no idea where she was going. Nothing mattered any more now she’d announced her decision. Leaving Caitlin open-mouthed on the driveway Helen headed back towards the hotel reception, before realising she couldn’t face even Yaz, worse still, Aiden. So she headed towards the river mainly because it was the biggest thing on the horizon.
But reaching the river meant crossing the terrace and it seemed as though half the guests had come out to enjoy mid-morning refreshments. Helen ducked through an open French door that led to one of the lounges. She quickly composed herself and was about to go back outside when she saw some of Aiden’s friends walking past the window and had to pretend to browse the bookshelf until they had gone.
Heading out of the lounge, Helen remembered the riverside space where she and Aiden had sat talking the day before. That was where she wanted to be. That was where she could be alone.
It was just as quiet as she remembered. The only sounds were the birds in the trees and the river flowing by, and within just a few moments of her sitting down the hot angry tears she had been holding back since her encounter with Caitlin finally burst through the dam that she had so painstakingly erected.
It was over. The nine years of loving and being loved by the one man in her life who had never done her wrong had come to a horrible conclusion, and the blame was all hers.
During her time with Phil, Helen’s continuing fear had been that things would fall apart just as they had with Aiden. Despite trusting Phil implicitly, she couldn’t stop worrying that he would meet someone else and end the relationship. In the many scenarios that populated her mind when at her most fragile it was never Phil who pursued these women but the women who pursued Phil. She imagined him out with his friends or at work and a woman who was more attractive or more understanding or who made him feel li
ke his true self appeared in his life and would change everything.
There had even been times when Helen had found herself taking an irrational dislike to women Phil introduced her to who perfectly embodied her phantom nemesis. It didn’t matter whether they were married or expressed less than zero interest in Phil while in her presence, if they fitted the bill and she could imagine Phil being happy with them then they were a threat. On rare occasions the jealousy would spiral out of control to such an extent that she would lock herself in the bathroom in the middle of the night frantically checking his text messages for evidence to lend weight to her theory. There was never anything of the kind. On the contrary: there was only evidence of his enduring love. Texts sent while he was away for work telling her that he loved her, jokey ones sent while she was on air telling her how sexy she sounded, thoughtful ones attempting to lift her spirits when he knew she was in for a bad day.
Helen felt shame when she remembered these moments and the shame was made so much worse by the fact that after all this anxiety and worry, she had been the betrayer rather than the betrayed.
She took her phone from her bag and looked at the screen. Still no sign of communication from Phil. If he had called, would it have made any difference to how the weekend had unfolded? Surely it would only have delayed the inevitable. Even so, she wished that she had heard from him. Hearing his voice would offer her some of the comfort she so desperately craved. Soon all that would change. Phil would hear about the events of the weekend and the next time she heard his voice it would be filled with hurt and anger. She longed to hear that voice filled with laughter and kindness one last time. She wished she had savoured those moments from the past, kept them safe for future reference. Instead, she had taken them for granted and now it was too late for anything other than regret.
Determined to bring her life back under control Helen made plans for the future. She would tell Phil about her misguided feelings for Aiden face to face and then move out. There were plenty of people she could stay with in the short term while she hunted for a place to rent and in the longer term she was convinced that if she cashed in her savings she would have enough for a deposit on a small place of her own.
Next she would call off the wedding. It would be too horrible and cruel to leave this to Phil. No, it would be her responsibility to contact all the guests and hers alone. A fitting punishment if ever there was one.
She would let Phil take the two-week-long honeymoon to Mauritius that had been one of the things he had organised so that he could have some time away. And depending on how much money she could lay her hands on, she would book herself a break somewhere warm where she could be alone to lick her wounds.
The only thing that Helen couldn’t think about was Aiden. It was too soon and her feelings were too raw. She reminded herself that he wasn’t the cause of this mess, merely a symptom and as such outside the circle of things that really mattered.
As Helen looked up through the leaf canopy above her head and felt the intense warmth of the sunlight on her face she felt grateful for the soothing silence. The real world felt a very long way off, too far away to harm her.
She heard a noise and looked up to see Yaz coming down the hill towards her.
‘Finally,’ said Yaz. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Helen. ‘I’m sorry for being such a drama queen. Have you been looking for me for long?’
Yaz shook her head. ‘When I came outside and there was no sign of you I went to the car park and there was Caitlin loading her things into her boot looking for all the world like she’d been crying. I tried to ask what had gone on but she just snapped at me to speak to you and drove off. What happened?’
‘I told her I was calling off the wedding.’
‘But you didn’t mean it surely?’
‘I meant every word. Phil deserves better.’
‘But there’s no need for that. Maybe she won’t tell him what happened.’
‘She’ll tell him all right and take great pleasure in doing so.’
‘Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean that Phil will want to call it off too. He really does love you, you know. You only have to see the two of you together. He won’t give up on nine years just because you got cold feet.’
‘I betrayed him.’
‘You were confused.’
‘Would you be so understanding if I were a man?’
‘I’d say it no matter who you were.’
‘I’m not sure I’d be so forgiving. Trust is everything to me.’
‘But even the people we trust make mistakes.’
Helen shook her head. ‘I don’t think there’s a way back from this. Some things are too bad, too awful to warrant forgiveness.’
‘You’re too hard on yourself.’
‘That’s just the thing. I don’t think I’m being hard enough.’ Helen closed her eyes. ‘I think I might actually have feelings for him.’
Yaz could scarcely hide her shock. ‘For Aiden?’
Helen nodded. ‘You see? That’s why I can’t marry Phil.’
‘I don’t understand. When did this happen?’
‘Maybe I’ve always felt this way on some level and just been too scared to admit it.’
‘This is just your nerves talking,’ said Yaz firmly. ‘You’ve got cold feet about the wedding and Aiden has made it worse. I know you love Phil, and he feels the same way. You have to have faith in him, Helen, you have to have faith in yourself too, but more than that you have to have faith that love is enough.’ Yaz put an arm around Helen. ‘I promise you this whole mess will get sorted out somehow, just wait and see.’
With the late morning sun already high in the sky the two friends headed back to the hotel with the intention of checking out. Reaching the far edge of the hotel they gazed across the grounds taking in the full glory of their surroundings.
‘We should come back here one day and do this whole thing properly,’ said Helen solemnly as a flock of geese passed by overhead. ‘No weddings, separations, sisters-in-law or anything else that might rain on our parade. Just me, you, and a weekend of high-end luxury.’
‘I’ll book it first thing, Monday,’ said Yaz, ‘but for now I think we should concentrate on just getting through today.’
It was twenty minutes to midday by the time Helen reached her room and surveyed all the work that needed to be done in order to check out on time. At the beginning of the weekend she had been scrupulous about packing dirty clothes away as she used them and generally keeping things organised and tidy but as time passed, her standards had dropped and her room looked like a bomb had hit it. There were dresses and tops spread over armchairs, underwear and swimwear on the floor and the entire contents of her make-up bag spread across the mirrored vanity table.
She opened her case, now largely empty, and made a start with the wardrobe, scooping all the items she had so carefully hung up there and unceremoniously dumping them inside before turning her attention to the floor. Within a few minutes she’d managed to cram more of her belongings in the case than there were scattered around the room but then she remembered the bathroom.
It took the best part of ten very frantic minutes to get everything done and as Helen stood surveying the room one last time she felt a pang of disappointment that this haven would no longer be hers. Soon the cleaners would come, strip down the bed and Hoover, sweep and dust away every trace of her existence ready for the next guest. Wishing the new occupants of the room better luck than she had enjoyed, Helen picked up her keys, left the room and closed the door behind her.
Most of the girls were already queuing up, wheelie suitcases and all, at reception. She joined the back of the queue behind an older guy who resembled an off duty rock star and his considerably younger significant other.
She wondered whether Aiden and his friends had checked out yet or whether, given their VIP status they had to check out at all, and were instead enjoying an early lunch or squeezing in a last-minute massage. Things were different i
f you had money. You could spare yourself the things that troubled the lives of mere mortals.
‘Did you manage to bag all the toiletries?’
It was Yaz.
‘All of them,’ she nodded. ‘You?’
‘I couldn’t fit in the conditioner or the moisturiser. I’m gutted.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Helen. ‘I’ll treat you for Christmas.’
‘Any sign of you know who?’
Helen shook her head. ‘I was just thinking about him actually.’
‘In a good way or a bad?’
Helen sighed. ‘Pretty neutral, considering.’
More members of staff arrived to help at reception and soon the queue had been dealt with and there was only Helen and Yaz left to check out.
Helen handed over her key and closed her eyes in anticipation of the bill. She began totting up some of the goods she had availed herself of that had seemed so reasonable at the time: several bottles of water at six pounds a go, numerous bottles of champagne, the twenty-pounds-per-bottle massage oil and the thirty-six-pounds-per-tub skin cream that she had asked the beauty therapist to add to her bill. She shuddered at all that wasted money and how long it would take to pay off her next overdraft.
She looked apprehensively at the receptionist.
‘How much is it?’
The receptionist looked confused. ‘Nothing. Your bill has already been settled.’
‘There must be some mistake, I haven’t—’
The receptionist looked concerned. ‘Is there a problem? Mr Reid assured us that he had spoken to you about this.’
‘Oh right,’ said Helen quickly. ‘It just slipped my mind. When did he sort this out?’
‘About an hour ago.’
‘Has he checked out?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not authorised to give out that information.’
‘Of course, I understand. I’ll catch up with him later.’
She was surrounded by the rest of the girls.
‘So come on then,’ said Kerry, ‘what was the damage? If it was anything like mine I bet it was a real killer! How they can charge sixteen pounds for a glorified tuna sandwich and keep a straight face is a complete mystery to me.’