‘Now you can’t be unhappy.’ Elizabeth smiled. ‘You’re in love with a man who loves you back. And I’m getting married tomorrow!’
The wedding day dawned clear, the sun shining brightly over the hued ocean. The sun was an immediate omen, Bernadette thought, promising actual gain, much more straightforward than wishing on stars. The sun was shining and so the wedding would be beautiful, and like everything involving Elizabeth, it was that simple.
The happy bride looked as pretty as ever that morning, as she ate a plain breakfast of toast and fruit and read messages from friends and relatives, missives that made her smile with delight and pronounce herself ‘the luckiest creature alive’. Bernadette oversaw bridal operations with the skill and strategy of a veteran, running through checklists and answering phones, tracking down hair and make-up artists, and welcoming the other bridesmaids into the suite. She even gave Lauren a hospitable hug and kiss when she arrived.
Bernadette herself didn’t like too much fuss with her hair and make-up, so she was finished before the other girls, who sat dotted around the room being worked on by talkative stylists. Everyone was already drinking champagne and celebrating, but Bernadette didn’t want alcohol, and she was already restless from being cooped up in the room too long, pacing like a caged lioness, tripping over hairdryer wires, and upsetting trays of make-up.
‘Bernie, love,’ said Elizabeth finally, as Bernadette’s elbow capsized a plate of curling irons. ‘Why don’t you get dressed, and then go and check on the church for me? I don’t know if the orders of service are down there. There should be one in every seat.’
‘Okay,’ said Bernadette, glad to have an excuse to leave, and some definite action to occupy her. ‘I’ll go and check.’
‘It should be nice and quiet at this time,’ Elizabeth smiled. ‘You can say a little prayer while you’re there.’
Bernadette snorted a half-laugh, and went to the bathroom to change into her dress. The bridesmaids’ dresses were of a soft peach chiffon, floor-length and with capped sleeves. She admired herself in the bathroom mirror, and wondered why she couldn’t wear such an ensemble every day. She felt curiously detached from her reflection, as though the woman staring at her was some unknown person, a poised and beautiful stranger.
It was a pleasant walk to the little forest church, and Bernadette didn’t see any other guests. She supposed they must all be getting ready for the grand event. She wondered which room Radley was staying in, and whether he had a tree house or a cliffside room. It was sad to imagine him waking up alone in a hotel room, and she felt an acute longing to be with him. He need never be lonely again.
The path to the church wound through the trees, and all around her were the perfect sounds of nature. Birds called to one another high in the treetops, the leaves rustled softly in the pleasant breeze, and her dainty footfalls did not impose. Elizabeth had had the right idea in sending her out to the woods. Bernadette already felt calmer.
When the church came into sight in the clearing, it was as if the community of woodland creatures knew to show deference, as the sounds were less riotous there. The birds were quieter, and their chattering had a distinctly reverential air.
The church was very pretty: a simple construction of white wood, with a clean spire and a single bell. Bernadette found herself almost reluctant to approach, as though she would be turned to dust for setting foot in such a holy place. She walked hesitantly towards the building, filled with a sudden trepidation, but nothing supernatural stopped her from crossing the threshold, and it was easy to step from the bright sunlight into the cool and comparative gloom.
The church was empty and had been readied for the wedding. The aisle led to an uncomplicated altar, where flowers had already been placed. It was beautiful, and Bernadette was taken by the old jealousy, wanting the pretty scene to be her own destiny.
She shook herself sternly and looked at the pews, checking for the orders of service but seeing only the bare wooden seats. There was a noise at the front of the church, and looking up, she saw Tim entering from a side door.
Sound abated, time eased, and Bernadette suddenly felt trapped by destiny. It was too obvious what would happen next, and she had no strength to fight it. Despite her cold and pragmatic exterior, she was a superstitious person at heart. She had relied on signs from the universe to guide her in other things. She placed great emphasis on the metaphysical, because human nature was so unknown to her.
She walked down the aisle, a bride to a groom, the path so conspicuous and easy. It was as if one of her childhood storybook dreams had at last become reality. The universe was condoning Tim, finally delivering her hero. Why would this strange scenario have been conceived otherwise?
Tim didn’t say a word, and they stared at each other as her body carried her towards him. She stopped within arm’s reach, gazing up at the face she knew so well, the face of the man she had wanted for years. He was wearing a grey morning suit, and it was not difficult to imagine that this version of Tim was her Tim. He looked as she had always imagined him, his blue eyes misty behind his glasses, his blonde hair kissed by the soft church light.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said, and she blushed like a maiden. ‘Bernadette, I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry too.’
He smiled at her and took her hand. She wondered if their encounter was over, but as she watched, a look of tender misgiving crossed his features, distorting them momentarily into an expression of pain. He tried harder with his smile, encouraging her sympathy, playing with her fingers in his, and she felt him tug her towards him slightly, with a quick laugh of nervous enquiry. Following the movement, she stepped forward so she was at his chin. He was looking down at her searchingly, as if trying to read her soul for absolution.
‘Oh Tim! Tim!’ she breathed, her body trembling with the surreal climax.
Reassured by her words, he bent his head and kissed her. Although it had seemed ordained, Bernadette was still taken off guard by the conflicting sensations. She was kissing Tim, her Tim, at last, and her thwarted passion had an outlet. But having imagined it so many times, it was strange that the kiss was nothing at all like she had pictured. His mouth was tight and firm against hers, and he held her to him with rigid determination. She moved against him, her lips searching for softness, for something that would feel like Radley’s kiss. That kiss had been so instinctive that she had been lost in it, but kissing Tim was a performance exercise: she was working to try and make herself feel enchanted, but her mind was much more powerful than the physical sensation, and other than the thrill of a goal obtained, she felt nothing real.
It was Bernadette who realised they were being watched. She opened her eyes, discomfited, and in her peripheral vision saw a nightmare. She jumped back from Tim, leaving him gasping, and stared in horror at Lauren and David, who were carrying the wretched orders of service.
‘You bitch,’ spat Lauren, loudly.
Bernadette glanced at Tim, who looked like a man whose whole life was flashing before his eyes.
‘Lauren—’ he began, but David cut in hysterically.
‘This is outrageous!’ he said shrilly. David appeared to be having a revelation of his own, learning all of a sudden that he actually hated Bernadette. And indeed, Bernadette did seem to stand, at that moment, for everything a weak man must fear in a woman: she was selfish, vain, sly, conniving and vicious. She was dangerous, sinful and vulgar. David looked electrified by his hatred, a vision of love turning to repulsion.
‘Lauren, David—’ Tim tried again.
‘You’re both disgusting,’ said Lauren. ‘How could you do this?’
Bernadette went cold with dread. ‘Please, Lauren,’ she began. ‘Please don’t tell Elizabeth. I’ll die.’
‘Elizabeth? I’m going to tell everyone! I wonder what Radley Blake’s going to say. What’s he going to think about this?’
‘Please,’ Bernadette urged. ‘I’m begging you, please don’t tell E
lizabeth.’
‘You don’t deserve our clemency,’ David hissed. ‘You’re a crazy, oversexed harlot!’
Bernadette saw how much her two accusers despised her, and she could not blame them. Tim was useless by her side; a man she would never love again. She was drained of all feeling for him; all she cared about was Elizabeth.
She stumbled towards the exit, unable to stay any longer and face her punishment. She had to fend off Lauren, who clutched at her as she passed, spilling the orders of service in the process. David skipped out of her path as if she was poisonous.
‘Coward!’ Lauren called after her. ‘You’re a coward!’
Bernadette ran, Lauren’s words ringing in her ears. She had never been called a coward before; she had always been praised for her fearlessness and daring. But it was true: she was a coward, an emotional adventure-seeker who couldn’t face the reality of her own nature.
She dashed back through the woods as if her enemies would chase her, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t know where to go. She couldn’t return to the suite and face Elizabeth; she could never see Elizabeth again. She sobbed harder, out of breath and distraught, feeling as though her Judgement Day was at hand.
As the path widened and she reached the central resort, there were other people walking around, dressed in their wedding attire, enjoying the sunshine. Bernadette had nowhere to hide, but she slowed her pace to a fast walk and kept her head down, sensing the concerned glances but refusing to make eye contact.
She headed for the resort exit, down the hill towards the main road. She couldn’t go back to collect her belongings and risk running into anyone. She would hitch-hike all the way to Los Angeles, and if she died on the journey, so much the better.
After an hour or so of walking, the hem of the peach chiffon bedraggled and dusty, Bernadette had stopped crying, exhausted from her frantic pace and the thoughts in her head. She was haunted by her own nature. She was terrified of what she had left behind.
Perhaps with her gone, Lauren and David wouldn’t feel the need to tell anybody. It was her they hated, not Tim. Perhaps they had thought up some plausible excuse for her absence and the wedding was now under way, with Elizabeth blissfully unaware.
Or perhaps they had told Elizabeth of the betrayal, and she had been so devastated that she had jumped from the cliff in her wedding dress, falling to her death with a broken heart. But no – Radley was there. Radley would stop that from happening. He would be there to protect Elizabeth.
Radley was the only person Bernadette wanted to see. Radley would understand. Radley knew her faults and loved her still. Radley was the source of all goodness and sanity.
As if she had summoned him by magic, Bernadette realised that a car had slowed and was following her. Radley himself was in the back seat; Mick was driving. The windows were rolled down, and both men were staring at her. She stopped and looked at Radley, hoping to see some sign of comfort – but there was none. His glance was cold, and for the first time, she was frightened of him.
‘Get in the car, Bernadette,’ he said.
Bernadette shook her head, unable to move.
‘Get in the car, or I will get out and drag you in here myself.’
Bernadette shook her head again, vigorously. ‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘Please don’t make me.’
Unexpectedly, Mick spoke up from the front seat, his nasal voice fierce with emotion. ‘Get in the car, Bernadette, or I’ll come and get you.’
Shocked at hearing Mick say anything other than his customary ‘Uh-huh’, Bernadette made haste and got into the car, sliding along the back seat next to Radley.
‘You’re both unnecessarily violent,’ she muttered nervously. ‘Accosting a girl in the road, with threats of—’
‘ENOUGH!’ bellowed Radley, making her jump in alarm. ‘None of your nonsense. Now there’s a woman back there who needs you, and you’re going to play your part.’
‘What’s happened?’ she asked, terrified.
‘What’s happened? Well, after witnessing your little encounter in the church this morning, Lauren and David told Elizabeth all about it, sparing no detail. They also decided it would be a good idea to inform the whole congregation, and now the vile rumour mill is in full operation.’
‘Lizzie!’ Bernadette gasped.
Radley looked down at his hands and said quietly, ‘Elizabeth wouldn’t hear a word against you. Or Tim. She shut Lauren down pretty quickly. Tim and Elizabeth are going ahead with the wedding. But I won’t have you disappearing from the service and adding fuel to the fire. You’re going to go back there, and you’re going to smile, and look beautiful, and face the damage you’ve wrought.’
Bernadette shrank back against the seat. ‘I can’t!’ she said. ‘I just can’t! Please don’t make me. Please, let’s just take this car and keep driving – I’ve never needed protecting from anything more than this. You said you wanted to protect me!’
‘Curb your manipulation, and don’t remind me of the stupid things I said to you.’
Bernadette’s heart went cold. ‘They weren’t stupid things.’
‘Bernadette. Stop. This isn’t about you. And it isn’t about me. This is about Elizabeth.’
‘She won’t want to see me!’
‘Of course she will. She loves you. You don’t think I came to get you of my own accord? Elizabeth begged me to find you. She was worried that you’d do yourself a mischief.’
Realising that Radley’s feelings for her had altered, Bernadette was quiet. Tears began streaming down her face, and she could do nothing to stop them.
‘No more crying,’ said Radley, harshly. ‘You need to look presentable so that all these people can whisper nasty things about you. Here …’
With the help of a pack of tissues and a bottle of Evian, he wiped Bernadette’s face clean of make-up. ‘That’s better,’ he said, when he’d finished. ‘You’re so pretty you don’t need that stuff anyway. But you mustn’t look defeated, scarlet woman. You must play your part convincingly.’
While he was gently cleaning her face, Bernadette looked at him for some sign of relenting, but there was none. He had become a different person, the person that other people had described when she had interviewed him: his face an impenetrable, impersonal mask.
The car drove up as close to the church as possible. Radley jumped out and Bernadette followed him. He took her hand in his, not as a gesture of solidarity, but to stop her from taking flight.
The church clearing had a different atmosphere now that the building was filled with people. The common human energy was grounding, and the approach was not as sinister. Bernadette was tripping with adrenalin. She held her chin high, ready to accept her fate.
In the vestibule, Elizabeth stood waiting patiently with her bridesmaids. Lauren was there, sulking in her peach gown. Elizabeth looked beautiful, all in white, and when she saw her friends, her face lit up. She came towards them with a smile.
‘Elizabeth, I …’ Bernadette began, her heart in her throat.
‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It’s okay. Tim told me it was his fault. You don’t have to explain anything. Thank you for coming back. That was a brave thing to do. I didn’t want to get married without you.’ She smiled up at Radley. ‘We waited for you.’
Radley gave her a warm kiss and a reassuring smile, and entered the body of the church without a backwards glance. The organ struck up with Pachelbel’s Canon in D, and it was time, literally, for Bernadette to face the music.
As they had rehearsed, the bridesmaids were to walk down the aisle before Elizabeth, with Bernadette leading the procession. Elizabeth gave her a nod of encouragement, and taking a deep breath, Bernadette entered the church for the second time that morning, her head spinning, dizzy and confused by it all: her lack of understanding, and her own passivity.
Her vision was not clear, and she didn’t know where to focus her eyes. The little church was packed with guests, every pew crammed, people standing and st
aring at her. There was a general whisper at her entrance, and she could feel their dislike and confusion hitting her like a punch to the face.
She realised that Lauren, walking behind her, was also struggling. Lauren had been the unwelcome messenger, and now here she was, processing publicly with the woman she had shamed.
Tim was standing at the front of the church with his groomsmen, facing the bridal party. He gave Bernadette the briefest of nods, but Radley would not look at her. He was unbearably handsome in his suit, his chiselled features taut with suppressed emotion.
The ceremony passed in a blur of remorse. Elizabeth was calm and happy, looking up at her soon-to-be-husband with no reproach. Bernadette was thankful for her friend’s swift forgiveness and genuine cheer, although she couldn’t understand it.
The moment that the minister asked if anyone present had any objection to the marriage, a sort of thrill seemed to go through the crowd, and all attention was focused on Bernadette and Lauren. But both women stood statue-like, with downcast eyes, as the minister hurried on.
After the service, when the hymns had been sung, and the readings given, and the couple declared husband and wife in the eyes of God, they all emerged from the church to the bright woods, and walked the short distance to the reception.
Long tables had been arranged in a clearing overlooking the ocean, with a dance floor and a live band. There was a profusion of flowers, the pretty wedding colours looking well against the dark greens and blues of the natural setting.
The crowd, to a man, eschewed Bernadette, not venturing anywhere vaguely near her. Usually she worked hard to avoid the society of others, and it was a singular experience to have society shun her. During the wedding breakfast she sat with the other bridesmaids, none of whom felt inclined to communicate. She concentrated on eating the delicious food, which dried quickly in her mouth, and listened conscientiously to the numerous speeches, including Tim’s lengthy and well-rehearsed declaration of devotion to Elizabeth.
When it came time for the first dance, she stood with the others gathered near the dance floor, going through the motions, as Tim and Elizabeth swayed to ‘Fields of Gold’, staring at one another contentedly. Bernadette looked for Radley, but couldn’t see him.
Acts of Love Page 25