The Guest List

by Melissa Hill

  Chapter 11

  It was over two weeks since Cara and Shane had broken the news of their engagement to the Richardsons, and since then, the two couples had been in relative gridlock. Shane would call his parents and automatically be sent to voicemail. He would leave a message, and neither Lauren nor Gene would call him back.

  Sitting at the dressing table in her bedroom applying make-up, Cara put her chin in her hand. She wouldn’t say so to Shane, but the truth was she was feeling very angry with his parents now. While they went about in a snit, she knew that Shane’s feelings continued to be hurt with each and every unreturned phone call.

  Who was acting selfish? she thought to herself. At least she knew she wasn’t marrying some spoilt child, which was exactly how his parents were acting. She had found that recently it was hard to keep some of these feelings to herself, and she had told as much in confidence to Kim.

  However, at the same time, she didn’t know exactly what her role was just yet. Until a few weeks ago, she had just been their son’s girlfriend; now she was their future daughter-in-law and soon to be part of the family. Therefore, wasn’t it fair that she also got to express her opinion on how ridiculous they were acting? Especially since they were making what was supposed to be a happy time in the life of their son very stressful.

  She thought about the relationship Shane had with his parents. They had always been close, especially since he was their only son, their only child. She tried to put herself in their shoes. Yes, of course, they only got one shot at a child’s wedding and she was sure that they wanted to highlight what they believed was important, namely showing off their son and his bride and impressing their business buddies with their good taste. She worked to convince herself that his parents merely had good intentions, but every time she tried, she came up short.

  She shook her head in frustration and picked up her mascara wand, ready to apply it to her eyelashes. True enough, parents usually wanted to be a part of the wedding planning, but it really wasn’t their role. And Lauren and Gene were parents of the groom, not the bride.

  Cara jerked her chin out. ‘Well, if they wanted to plan a wedding so bloody much, they should have tried for a girl after Shane,’ she muttered under her breath.

  ‘What was that, love?’ Shane asked, entering the bedroom. He was adjusting a light blue tie around his neck, and straightening his grey suit jacket.

  ‘Ah nothing, just talking to myself.’ She looked up at him. ‘Well, well, don’t you look dashing? I must admit Richardson, you do clean up well.’

  They were getting ready to go to the McCarthy–Bourke wedding they’d been invited to three weeks before; the invite that had essentially sparked off their own engagement.

  ‘Do you think the bride will approve?’ Shane smirked. ‘Or should I bring a change of clothes in case I don’t live up to her expectations? You don’t suppose they will have someone at the door checking the clothes labels?’

  ‘You never know. I suppose I better make sure I have clean underwear on,’ Cara giggled.

  ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Cara groaned, getting up.

  ‘Ah don’t be like that.’ Shane slung an arm around her shoulder. ‘If nothing else, it should give us a few ideas.’

  It didn’t take Cara and Shane long to realise that the word ‘decadent’ would have been an understatement if used to describe the white satin and organza-covered, swan and ice-sculptured, rose-laden extravaganza that was Audrey McCarthy’s wedding.

  ‘Man, this place looks like Versace threw up on it,’ Shane whispered as they made their way to their seats in the hotel garden under a luscious tulle-covered canopy that served as Audrey and Joseph’s personal wedding chapel. At a guess, the place housed at least four hundred guests.

  ‘Hush!’ Cara laughed as she kept an eye out for anyone else she might know.

  ‘Ten quid says she arrives in a horse-drawn carriage,’ Shane snickered.

  They found some free seats near the aisle, about halfway from the front of the ‘chapel’. Still, even from this vantage point, Cara reckoned a pair of binoculars would have come in handy.

  ‘It’ll be amazing if we see anything from here,’ Shane pointed out, rolling his eyes.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure Audrey would have accounted for that,’ Cara chided forebodingly.

  As they sat, Shane busied himself by looking through the programme for the ceremony, but Cara was far more interested in looking around at the other guests. Shockingly enough, she couldn’t count a single one who had not followed the rules stated on the invitation. No female had dared wear white, or indeed anything from Karen Millen or Coast. Cara herself had sought out an oft-worn purple dress that channelled Diane Von Furstenberg but was actually from Dunnes Stores. The invite had mentioned nothing about boycotting Dunnes.

  ‘She must have some very loyal friends,’ she pointed out. ‘I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone showed up in white out of spite.’

  ‘More like the girl knows a thing or two about bullying,’ Shane countered. Cara nodded in agreement. Shane had never met Audrey, but from what she remembered of her, he was right. Her college friend had always been . . . forthright in her opinions, to say the least.

  A string quartet began to play at the front of the chapel, and the groom and his best man entered through the side. Although both were resplendent in what had to be Armani morning coats, Cara took note of the fact that, as handsome as the men looked, both – but especially the groom – looked absolutely miserable.

  ‘What’s yer man’s name again?’ Shane asked as he flipped through the programme. ‘The groom I mean.’

  ‘Does it really matter?’ Cara asked. Clearly this ceremony was all about the bride.

  ‘Ah. Joseph Bourke,’ her fiancé confirmed. He shook his head. ‘Poor bastard.’

  Cara had already moved on from wondering about the groom and instead was taking in the show. As expected, the mothers were escorted in first, and then the bridesmaids arrived. Each woman had on a beautiful cerise pink gown, each fit to their specific body shape in a simple unfussy style that flattered their very different figures individually.

  Cara had to give Audrey credit; at least she hadn’t set out to find the worst monstrosity known to the world of bridesmaids to force upon her attendants, just to make herself look better. Why didn’t most brides understand that no one would usurp their special day – that all brides were beautiful?

  Cara recognised a few other faces from her college days, but couldn’t place the names; it had been several years after all, and if not for this wedding invite, she probably wouldn’t have crossed paths with Audrey ever again.

  Suddenly, the music rose to a crescendo, heralding the bride’s arrival. From the back of the chapel, a chorus of oohs and ahhs echoed, and Cara tried to look back past the standing crowd to see what was happening outside.

  As if guessing that this was exactly what the crowd would be thinking in unison at that particular moment, two large plasma screen TVs flickered on at the front of the room. The bride had made sure every single person there would witness her arrival.

  But not only was she in a horse-drawn carriage as Shane predicted, her chariot was made of glass, just like Cinderella’s.

  ‘Holy shit,’ Shane muttered.

  ‘Shh!’ Cara elbowed him as she took in the spectacle before her. Well . . . the big screens were handy, she had to admit.

  ‘I bet she’s wearing glass slippers too. Of all the ridiculous, little-girl princess nonsense—’ Shane whispered, only to be shushed by a woman the next row over.

  At that moment a man, presumably Audrey’s father, exited from the glass carriage. He was about Cara’s dad’s age and if the expression on his face was any indication of his mood, he was completely shell-shocked by everything that was happening.

  ‘Look at that poor bloke,’ whispered Shane. ‘He’s probably just been handed the bill for all this.’

  Cara had to hold back giggles. ‘Will you stop it
! You are so bad.’

  A collective gasp echoed through the crowd as Audrey exited the carriage with the help of her father. A vision in layers upon layers of white satin and tulle, her dress alone must have cost the annual GDP of some small country.

  Upon first glance Audrey’s smile looked radiant, but Cara could see her eyes darting wildly around the room, taking in every person, every flower, every strand of fairy lights.

  As Audrey made her way up the aisle one graceful step at a time, Cara noted that her smile, up close, seemed more tense than radiant, and while there was no denying that she was beautiful, you could also tell she was making a mental checklist of what she didn’t approve of, what was wrong, and what someone would get thoroughly chewed out for later.

  To Cara’s untrained eye, everything looked perfect. Extravagant, but perfect. Why on earth should the bride look so tense on her wedding day?

  Although, maybe she was being harsh. Maybe Audrey was simply nervous, suffering from a bout of stage fright. Cara scolded herself for being overly judgemental. Audrey was more than likely overwhelmed with everything that was happening. What bride wouldn’t be?

  Audrey passed where Cara and Shane were sitting and Cara had to admit that the dress was beautiful, as was the cathedral-length veil that followed her down the aisle. She tried to envision herself in a dress like that, tried to put herself in Audrey’s shoes. What did it feel like exactly? To have the eyes of hundreds of people on you all at once, studying you, judging you, making comparisons?

  She gulped.

  The ceremony progressed as normal from there, and all was perfectly choreographed. From the beautiful reading by the bride’s tearful sister, to the lighting of the unity candle by both mothers. This was an open declaration of love and commitment and indeed, both families were equally highlighted and included.

  When the marriage ceremony was over, cocktails were quickly served and Cara and Shane made their way out to the allotted space where waiters passed canapés and carried silver trays of Dom Perignon. Cara took in every detail, making mental notes about possible ideas for their own wedding.

  ‘It was a nice ceremony, wasn’t it?’ she inquired, interested to gauge Shane’s train of thought.

  ‘I suppose. Wasn’t it fairly standard though – apart from all the pomp at the beginning?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, I thought it was lovely, you know, involving both of the families like that, the mothers, the sisters, making sure everyone felt included.’

  As if he intuitively caught her vibe and what she was thinking, Shane softened his tone. ‘Are you wondering if a big splash might be a better alternative to the intimate do we were considering after all?’ he asked mildly.

  She bit her lip and studied his face. ‘Would it be terrible if I was thinking that?’

  Shane pressed his lips together and shook his head as he lowered his eyes to examine his glass of champagne.

  ‘Of course not. Look, regardless of what we decide I am going to be the happiest man in the world because I am marrying you, OK? So whether you want something huge or something small, really, I’ll be happy to go along with it.’

  She smiled at him. ‘I’m not saying I want this, the glass carriage or anything like that, not at all. I don’t know, I just suppose I was looking at the families, and no one is fighting and it seems like . . . it’s sort of hard to explain . . . yes, there must have been a lot of organising beforehand but, on the day, it seems that everything just works out.’ She lowered her eyes demurely. ‘I’m sorry, maybe I’m just being silly.’ Afraid to meet his gaze, she took a sip of champagne. ‘Don’t mind me.’

  Shane took a step to close the distance between them. He brought his hand to her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. ‘You are not silly. And of course I would rather you talked to me about all of this. Like I said, I don’t care if there are ten or ten thousand names on the guest list, or you are wearing a million-euro dress or a flour sack. At the end of it all, you will be my wife and that is all that matters to me. That’s all that counts.’

  He leaned down to kiss her and Cara felt her heart soar. She was so lucky to have someone like Shane who just understood her inside and out. She returned his kiss and hugged him close. Then a high-pitched voice interrupted them.

  ‘Cara Clancy! I’m so glad you came!’

  Cara turned away from Shane to be met with the vision in white herself.

  ‘Haha, look, look at me, I’m now Mrs McCarthy-Bourke!’ Audrey giggled coquettishly. ‘And you must meet my husband!’ Following close behind, somewhat reluctantly as he pulled at the bow tie around his neck, was the hapless groom. ‘Cara, this is Joseph – Joseph, my old college friend, Cara.’ She glanced pointedly at Shane. ‘And I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know your “plus one”.’

  Oops, they’d forgotten about that rule. Cara smiled broadly. ‘Joseph, so nice to meet you, and huge congratulations to you both. This is my fiancé, Shane.’ She put her arm through Shane’s as he reached forward to offer congratulations and shake the groom’s hand.

  ‘Fiancé?’ Audrey echoed, her eyes wide. ‘I didn’t know you were engaged.’

  ‘Yes, it happened just a few weeks ago actually, and we are . . .’

  But Audrey’s gaze darted away from Cara’s face, and her expression soured. ‘I’m sorry?’ she replied absently.

  ‘I said, it just happened a few weeks ago, right round the time we received your invitation actually and . . .’

  Again, Audrey’s gaze drifted over Cara’s head, looking far beyond them. ‘Dammit,’ she muttered darkly.

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  Audrey’s face was tense, but her mouth suddenly broke out into a huge smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Yes, of course! It’s just . . . something that needs to be dealt with, a catering issue. Sorry, can you hold on for one second please?’ She held up a finger to Cara and before Cara could answer, thrust her bouquet at Joseph and hurried away.

  Cara and Shane looked at each other and watched as Audrey made a beeline for a waiter who was clearly struggling to balance a tray of champagne. From twenty feet away, they heard her berate the young man, who couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old.

  ‘Where is your supervisor?’ she hissed. ‘I told the caterer I wanted properly trained waiting staff, not a bunch of bumbling know-nothings who would be better off in some student pub. I want you off the floor now. Off! Immediately!’

  For a brief moment Cara worried that the beautiful bride might actually cause physical damage to the guy, or at least throw the tray of champagne flutes at him.

  Shane looked at her and raised an eyebrow. ‘So, um Joseph, lovely wedding. Really fantastic,’ he said to the groom. ‘You must be over the moon.’

  Joseph’s voice was flat. ‘Yes of course, lovely being surrounded by so many people, so many people we know and you know – don’t know. Lots of planning went into this, and Audrey did a bang-up job, really, she did. Looking forward to the honeymoon – and Jesus bloody Christ what do you have to do to get a drink around here?’ he snapped.

  Shane stepped in, clearly understanding that this ‘Wedding Wonderland’ was making the groom walk a very thin line between sanity and the opposite.

  ‘What are you drinking, mate?’

  ‘JD, neat. I know they have it, they better have it. Make it a double, a treble even.’

  ‘Done. Be right back.’ Shane walked off in the direction of the bar, leaving Cara by herself with an increasingly jittery groom. She looked over her shoulder, realising Audrey had now gone off somewhere else. She was unsure if that was a blessing or a curse.

  ‘So, the honeymoon next. I’ll bet you can’t wait. Where are you off to?’ she asked amiably.

  Joseph wouldn’t meet her gaze. ‘Malaysia, some godforsaken place in the middle of the jungle. Not that I picked it. Not that I picked anything, not this, not any of it. Nope, no say whatsoever.’ He fidgeted again with his bow tie. ‘Jesus Christ, where’s that drink, I’m sweatin
g bullets here . . .’

  Cara looked around, hoping that Shane would come back soon. Preferably with something strong for her, too. ‘I’m sure he won’t be long.’

  ‘I mean come on, all of this nonsense, this bullshit for one day. And would you look at those stupid, bloody flowers. All those damn flowers.’

  Cara bit her lip. Was there some form of etiquette she was supposed to be following? She didn’t know this man, he was clearly distressed, but then again, had he not just got married thirty minutes before?

  ‘But really Joseph, the flowers are stunning – everything is lovely. It’s all just beautiful really.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, beautiful. Nearly two hundred grand’s worth of beautiful. Two hundred grand . . . And it’s not as if we’re getting away with anything either. Her parents only could go in for fifty grand, same as mine, they had to sell one of the cars, remortgage their house and what have you – my parents aren’t millionaires, you know. Us now, me and Audrey – one hundred grand in debt. One hundred thousand euro. Dear sweet Jesus,’ Joseph croaked as if the reality had just hit him. Cara was worried he was close to tears. Again, she looked around for Audrey or Shane. No sign of either of them. ‘And for what?’ Joseph continued. ‘A pair of fucking ice swans? Some fancy canapés and a dress she’s going to wear just once?’ His eyes rolled wildly in his head.

  Shane really needed to get back with that whiskey.

  ‘But Joseph, everyone is so happy at the moment,’ Cara continued politely, hoping to make him feel better although inwardly she was staggered by the sums. ‘It’s a wonderful day, you could really feel the love in the room, the ceremony was so beautiful and—’

  Joseph snorted. ‘Feel the love? My parents are barely speaking to me. And her mother, that cow, stupid woman sticking her oar into everything – and you saw her up there crying – pretending everything is hunky-dory. I swear, if I never see any of them again . . .’

  Cara automatically took a step back. Joseph’s frustration had quickly turned to anger. ‘You know, I’ve always had a great relationship with my parents, but my dad wanted to retire soon . . .’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘They’re just ordinary hardworking people, I shouldn’t have dragged them into paying for this mess, but Audrey was determined, she just had to have it like this. If I had my way, I would have taken off and got married on a beach, just the two of us, that sort of thing but no way . . . Not possible. Audrey had a vision – she’s been dreaming of this for most of her life and for what? All this nonsense?’ He glared at Cara, as if she was personally responsible. ‘Why don’t they take little girls aside and tell them that the quickest way to ruin happy ever after is to perpetuate the ridiculousness that they need to be a princess on their wedding day?’