by Corri Lee
“You—” Shit. A total over-reaction on my part, and over something so small. What the hell could I expect from similar conversations in the future? How long until I dropped myself into a whole load of trouble and jail time?
I had to bullshit my way out of it, and fast. In desperation, I crawled past to the toilet and dry heaved until she backed out of the bathroom. I’d never wished so hard for vomit in my life.
Just the name, ‘Natasha’, brought me out in hives and self-damnation. I couldn’t escape it. It would always be forever etched on as a flaw in my past, and I wasn’t sure that I’d get away with it for long. Chances were, I’d hear a lot more of her name, in particular on that day. Her existence hadn’t been kept secret enough to elude the vicious gossip, Helen Rosen, and my sister, though who knew how much of the story they actually knew.
It was ridiculous to think that I’d walk away a free woman for the rest of my life, and it was unfair to even try. Too many people would get caught in the middle. Too many lives would fall to pieces.
Jesus Christ. I had to call off the wedding. The whole thing was a bloody travesty, built on lies and secrets.
“Emmy?” Esme’s voice at the door, more puzzled than concerned like before. “There’s a gift for you. It was just delivered. No note or name.”
Sounded ominous, and looked it, too. The wrapped box was no bigger than a cylindrical ring box, the bow bigger than the package.
“So, are you going to open it?”
“I dunno...” Something gave me a really bad feeling about the unexpected gift. Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t be impressed by it’s contents. “I don’t like it. Why send me an anonymous present now when all the wedding gifts are being piled up in the gazebo?”
“Oh, come on. Open it. You can’t get married with a load of loose ends dangling about.”
“Why!” I turned to her quickly, my eyebrows high, my voice higher. “Why all the talk of Natasha and loose ends today?”
“I’ve said each of those things once.”
“And once too many! Please!”
Esme sank back against the door frame, throwing the box so vaguely in my direction that it narrowly missed the toilet bowl. “Just open it, fool. Be glad it’s your wedding day and you have an excuse to act like a spastic, or I’d be thinking you’ve got a guilty conscience about something.”
What was I? Transparent? Fuelled by frustration, I ripped the paper off the box by it’s stupid bow in one movement.
My initial guess of ring box was spot on. The clean white velvet vessel was spoiled by a hand-scrawled message of ‘Something Borrowed’ in cheap golden gel ink. One infinitesimal look inside and my decision was sealed.
“Call Blaze. Wedding’s off.”
“What the fuck, Emmy?” Seething, Esme snatched the box back from my hand and examined it for a second before peeking inside and admitting: “Oh shit, that’s bad.”
Someone had been inside the safe holding all of our valuables and important documents, removed the ring Natasha had left to me, and sent it back as a gift with the venomous message. Was I borrowing Blaze? Is that what they meant?
“This is clearly a sick joke, Emmy. Don’t ruin your life over it.”
“It was stolen from this house, Esme. Someone has been into this house to play tricks on me. Someone in this house is playing tricks on me.” Caroline? Her now ex-assistant? Esme and my mother adored Blaze, my male friends just didn’t think that way. Which left—”Tallulah! That spineless—”
“I really don’t think—”
“—Bitch always hated that we were together. This isn’t the first time she—”
“Emmy!” Grabbing my forearms, Esme shook me so hard my teeth knocked together. “Tallulah didn’t do this. Tallulah likes Blaze, and frankly she’s more concerned with her own relationship.”
“Tally has a boyfriend?” Blind? Deaf? Dumb? All of the above? “Is he real?”
“She happens to be your top rate make-up artist for the day, actually.”
“She?” The shit you find out... “My sister is a lesbian? Now that would explain why she kept taking all the bra’s off my dolls.”
“Your dolls had bras?”
“A platitude for the precocious puberty. Long story. I don’t have big tits because I was ‘blessed’, let’s put it that way.”
“I—” At a loss for words, Esme simply shook her head and drew my attention back to the ring box. “This was a sick prank by a sick bastard, and Henry will get to the bottom of it. But you can’t take it to heart. You cannot ‘borrow’ a husband from a dead woman.”
So it was what I thought. A message of warning that she’d be back for him. Somewhere along the way, she’d haunt us. He was only on loan to me. His place was by her side.
“Oh my God, someone is going to murder Blaze!”
“Okay, screw this.” Esme’s hand clamped down on my shoulder and forced me out beyond the bathroom door, back into the kitchen. “Ivy’s a doll, but I’m calling this one. You need alcohol and you need it now.”
Five glasses of wine and a cheeky cigarette made of Esme’s favourite black cherry tobacco made me calm enough to check the safe and find Natasha’s ring still tucked away carefully like a cursed talisman. The ring I’d been delivered was just eerily similar in design, colour and size, even down to the etching along the inner band.
Except this was legible, barely. ‘Souls mated by thunder’ was carved into the platinum, a sentiment that made no sense to me.
“Things like this can happen to public figures,” Ivy cooed protectively. She stood behind me braiding my hair, regardless of the fact it would be professionally styled a few hours later. “You’ve led a life that’s enticed the likes of stalkers and psychos.”
“Are you calling me a slapper?”
“Heavens no! I mean you’ve walked through the days bearing a beauty that pushes men to the brink of sanity.” Nice save. Mother’s appeared to be particularly skilled in the art of covering blunders. “But you can’t let this rule you. If you back out at the first sign of trouble, all sorts of people would realise you’re a coward and not very self-assured. Goodness knows how your vulnerability could get you hurt or worse. You could end up anywhere on the planet—in several places at once, even.”
Behind that grotesque prophecy, there was a hint I’d been waiting for her to drop since Ivy had arrived in Cardiff the previous morning. She’d pointedly avoided the subject of my European rendezvous, talking us round in circles if I ever tried to broach it.
My mother was hurt and I understood that. She’d been the last of my immediate circle to find out I’d left because it had been actively kept secret from her. It was probably that—not feeling trusted—which she hated more than anything. The sting of betrayal could be much harsher than plain old ignorance.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Greece.” Ivy sighed quietly and took the seat next to me. Despite her earlier attempt to implement an alcohol ban, she’d been filling my glass for an hour and matching my every sip.
“Don’t apologise, love. It’s not your fault that everyone thought I’d blab to the papers.”
“You are kind of loose-lipped, Mum.”
“I don’t... I don’t know what you mean!” She spat out a few indignant grunts of protest, rolled her eyes, and snatched up her glass. “Oh, all right. I’m easily excitable. But it’s only because I’m so very proud of you picking your life up and settling down with a handsome, financially stable and caring man.”
“You called it,” I pointed out, hoping to boost her fragile ego. “You said we were a perfect match.”
“I did!” Grinning ear to ear, she whipped out a small bag from behind a cushion and shoved it at me. “And here’s my contribution to the day. ‘Something new’, love. I hope it’ll match.”
It didn’t take much to figure out that she’d brought me jewellery, but the necklace I unwrapped was admittedly stunning. The simple but very classy string of pearls fastened at the front with an intricate ru
by studded catch. Both hues of stone would fit perfectly with the colour scheme of my dress. How lucky. Unless...
“You’ve seen it. You’ve seen my wedding dress.”
Fear, denial and panic manifested in a single, “Um...” from my mother’s lips before she clasped her head and sagged back into the plush fabric of her armchair. “Yes, all right. I might have caught a peek.”
“Mother...”
“Okay, fine. Caroline showed Tally and I when Esme chased you out onto the street.”
Oh, give me a break. The only thing I’d wanted more than anything was for that dress to be a surprise, and for Ivy to weep when she saw it. Yes, chances were she’d sobbed anyway, but it wasn’t the same to see a dress up on a rail. The first time anyone but Caroline and her staff saw the dress, I’d wanted to be wearing it.
“She’s ruined it. Again. It was bad enough to forget it, but to go against my wishes again.” She’d done too much and she knew too much for me to be comfortable around her. Blaze may have rated her as a seamstress, but she was a bleak example of a confidante. I desperately hoped that I’d never have to deal with the woman again.
“I know what’d cheer you up!” A cheerful spring in her step, Ivy bounced up to her feet, tapped a quick message into her phone, and paced near the doorway. She had a look about her; well-meaning intervention spliced with self-delight and arrogance. “We should probably not tell your father about this.”
Miraculously, I didn’t guess from that afterthought what was waiting for me. I was as surprised by the arrival of my next gift as I had been the last time it’d parked itself on my doorstep.
“Hunter Rosen, as I live and breathe!”
“Is that a fucking catchphrase or something?”
He laughed as I squealed and scurried towards him, legs all a-tangle with the charger cables for my phone and laptop. What had only been a few days felt like months. If I’d seen him every day, it still might not have felt like often enough.
Ivy shocked us both by politely excusing herself, giving me the opportunity to trap Hunter with the huge hug I’d been holding back on. Hunter held me, gaping over my shoulder at the home I had on show.
“This is some house, Emmeline.”
“Screw the house. What are you doing here?”
“Blaze invited me.” He shook his head, reassessing his answer. “Blaze invited Siobhan. Not sure if he was being facetious or if there’s some secret tit-for-tat, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ policy on wedding breakfasts I was unaware of. But she RSVP’d weeks ago with a plus one and Blaze said he’d tolerate my presence for your sake.”
“How very magnanimous.” I wasn’t sure whether to be more impressed that Blaze had let Hunter attend or that Hunter had sought Blaze’s blessing before turning up. “Tell me you’ve come to save me from this hell.”
“Bad day?”
“Don’t even. I understand why you got shit-faced now.”
“Do you?”
Okay, maybe not. My experience was just lousy; he’d been in love with another woman when he started saying his vows. Putting it into perspective, I probably didn’t completely get it. However, I did agree that it was a good idea. “Marriage makes a good case for alcoholism.”
“Oh, you just wait.”
“You aren’t married.”
“I will be. Siobhan and I are picking up where we left off.”
“Oh. Good.” I was happy for him, I really was. It was my inner child that turned a genuine smile into a grimace, spitefully pouting at having to share her toys. “So what brings you to the brides chamber on the morn before t’weddin’?”
Hunter cocked his head and laughed. “Oh dear, you’re trashed. I’m here after an emergency call from Esme which Ivy is taking credit for, actually. Big emergency—something about a borrowed ring?”
“Oh.” I explained the whole day’s fiasco in detail, getting the kind of reaction I’d wanted from Esme.
“That’s fucked up, Emmeline. I don’t like it.”
“Me, either. How can I get married if I have to wear jeans and say ‘I do’ behind SWAT shields?”
“Well firstly, I’d maybe consider wearing your underwear down the aisle before you head out in jeans. Secondly, you’re being a tad dramatic, but it’s your wedding day so I forgive you. Third and finally, I now understand why I was drafted in. Hold this.”
His next movements were a process of removing all the formality from his outfit. The cufflinks came first, then the watch, tie and belt. Shoes and socks next, the top shirt button undone...
“I know it’s pretty common knowledge that a good seeing to tends to calm me, but I really don’t think this is the way it should be administered.” Not that it didn’t tempt me to scurry off to a dark corner and see to myself. I knew that if I’d slept next to Blaze and had a little morning glory, I wouldn’t feel so fraught.
“Oh, I’m going to see to you all right, Tudor. I’m going to give you a real spanking.” He leaned close, nearly caging me against the wall. “Pass me a Wii controller.”
“God, I’m so hot for you right now. But wouldn’t you prefer to use a spatula or hair brush? Hell, this belt...”
“Jesus, Emmeline.” Hunter staggered back in a fit of laughter, unable to follow my act. Gasping for air, he held my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. “I’m going to beat your ass on Wii Tennis, then you’re going to shower, have some lunch, then tell me that you still want out of this wedding.”
I couldn’t. An hour of cardio, a good scrub and a sandwich later, I felt like a different creature. I still had my doubts about marriage, but that was normal. Right?
“Of course it’s normal to get cold feet. It’s a massive commitment and Blaze is the first serious relationship you’ve been in. It’s all passed at rocket speed, so of course you’re apprehensive. The longevity of a relationship rarely makes that completely disappear.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be talking me back on track? You’re just giving me reasons to back out.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Am I, though?”
“Yes!”
“Am I?” Hunter pressed a finger to my lips before I could say it again. “Am I giving you reasons, or are you looking for them? I gave you justification for your nerves, not a get out clause. Why are you so scared of marrying Blaze?”
“Because it’ll never last!” Admitting it hurt me inside, like a knife to the heart. “It won’t last and it’ll hurt more for the higher level of commitment.”
“Okay, statistically yes, your marriage is unlikely to last. But it’s not impossible and the run up to dissolution may be blissful. ‘You have to die a few times before you can really live,’ said Charles Bukowski, and you’ve faced more than your share of death.”
“Are you saying I should grab the bull by the horns?”
“No, honey. I’m telling you that you’ve already caught the bull, but it wasn’t the horns you grabbed. Let go of the junk keeping you back, take a step forward, and try a new approach. Believe me, if you hold on and try to go anywhere, it’s going to hurt like hell for everyone involved.”
“There’s a difference between looking and seeing. You’re looking for justifiable reasons to validate that your relationship is ‘good’ and ‘strong’ enough for marriage. You’re not seeing that even without validation, your relationship is good and strong enough. Differentiate between how yours and Blaze’s relationship feels internally, and how you believe others can perceive it. Don’t sacrifice perfection for caution. Nobody’s opinion but yours and his matter, and you have no idea what’s around the corner.”
He was right, I didn’t. If I’d known what was lurking there, I might have been a little more wary that day. “What if I know for sure it’s going to be tough?”
“Then you have a terrific husband and lots of friends to get through it with you. Be honest, a lot of people would disown you if you back out now.”
“I suppose you would be the leading aut
hority on that.”
A flurry of activity downstairs forced an end to our conversation. Hunter had given me all the help he could and I’d be eternally grateful for that. If not for him, I’d still be filthy and stressed. Now I just felt a strange sense of melancholy as my old friend walked to the door.
“Oh, here.” Hunter bottlenecked in the doorway, hands dug deep into his pockets. From one of them, he pulled out a tattered old friendship bracelet I’d made for him when I was fourteen. It was blue because it reminded me of his eyes, but I never told him that. It meant more to me than it did to him. “Something blue.”
“I made this for you, Hunter. You’re meant to keep this to remind yourself of my unwavering friendship.”
“Emmeline, what I can’t carry inside my heart and mind is superfluous. If I have nothing but this bracelet to remember you by, I was a terrible friend.”
A fair point, but it caused a terrible crushing in my chest. I’d experienced no pain like it, a sadness so deep it made usual fits of depression seem like toddler tantrums. “This feels like goodbye, Hunter. You’re giving me your friendship back.”
“You never gave me your friendship, Emmeline. I just... borrowed it. Borrowed and blue.”
Yes, he was. And saying goodbye after he’d been such a huge influence on my life for so long was so awful it rendered me useless for the rest of the afternoon.
Nothing else could go wrong. One more hiccup and I was walking out of the door. The bad omens were totting up, the bad luck getting worse and worse. There had to come a point where optimism became tedious and unproductive.
“Ma’am.” Chris dangled the eggshell garment bag in front of my face, looking awfully proud of himself. He’d been spared from best-man duty for a while so his lovely old ma could have a cup of tea in ‘the big posh mirror house.’ We’d not really spoken properly over the last four days of preparation, but I’d noted that he still looked moodier than usual, particularly when Esme was around.
“You doing okay?” He grunted moodily in response. “Very eloquent. Thank you.”