If Only

by Yvonne Beattie

  “Me either.”

  We look at each other for a moment, in sad silence.

  “I really am so very sorry, Rach,” he says and stands up, pulling me up with him and then into a long tight hug.

  A goodbye hug, if ever I felt one.

  Chapter 32

  “You want me to what?” I ask while quickly looking at my mobile phone to see that it is indeed, my mobile phone.

  “I want you to be my maid of honour,” Bex says excitedly down the phone to me.

  “But you have to be engaged before you get married, Bex,” I tell her feeling puzzled.

  “I know!” she squeals. “We got engaged over lunch today!”

  I frown to myself and wrack my brain for what I apparently have missed, “Did you just say that you and Simon got engaged?”

  “Rach, are you on something? YES! We just got engaged! Will you be my maid of honour?” she almost shouts down the phone at me.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Really?” I start jumping up and down on the spot then quickly regain my composure as I fix my lunch in the school cafeteria.

  “Yes, really! Is that a yes, or a no?” Bex laughs.

  “It’s a yes! Of course!” I can’t help but beam happily around the noisy cafeteria.

  “Great, coz we’re getting married next month,” she says and the smile slips from my mouth.

  “What? What did you just say?” I gasp.

  “Yup, you heard me right. Next month,” she repeats.

  “How can you be getting married next month?” I almost lose the contents of my tray as everything slides to one side.

  “We just want a small ceremony,” she says happily. “Mum is going to make our dresses for us, and we’ve decided to get married in Aviemore.”

  She says the last part really quickly and I squeeze my eyes shut for a millisecond as I head back through to the staff room to eat my lunch, “Why Aviemore?”

  “Because, it’s where we found out we could live together for one, and two, it’s really pretty up there in the summer time… and three, it’s where our reception is being held,” she stops there.

  I can’t help but feel slightly on edge at this, “Where are you having your reception, Bex?”

  “Promise not to change your mind?” she asks speaking at top speed again. “You already said, ‘yes’.”

  “Bex?” I am not in the mood for this now that she has mentioned the ‘A’ word.

  “OK, OK, it’s at Deb and Martin Seniors house,” she informs me.

  “What?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “Please, please, please don’t be angry with me, Rach. You saw how gorgeous their place is. It is totally amaze-balls. It was Simon that suggested it actually, and Deb was over the moon when I asked her. We aren’t having that many guests, the wedding party will all be able to stay there, and it’s not far into town for everyone else to get a hotel room,” she reasons. “They have a marquee they are going to put up in their garden.”

  “Oh Bex, why? Why? Why?” I place my lunch down on the table and push it away from me, suddenly not feeling very hungry, at all.

  “Because we loved it up there, Rach. That is why. Now, as my oldest, best-est and most amazing-est friend, please just be happy for us and say you’ll come?” she pleads.

  “Bex… You know I’ll be there,” I try to sound happy for her sake, but she knows how difficult a position she is putting me in.

  As I drive home from work after school, I feel all my stacked up securities slipping away, one by one. I’m bound to see Marty when we are up there, and although he remained true to his word of staying friends, it is still awkward. We check in with each other every few weeks, but its distant and frankly, I don’t know why either of us bothers. Probably for Maggie’s sake, which is silly as she’s not here any longer.

  It’s now the end of June and the last few months have been fairly dull. After Marty told me about his wife, I understand why he feels the way he does, but I also feel that life is for living when you’re given that opportunity, and even though it is probably easier for me to say, I still wish things could have been different. He even told me himself, ‘life is for living’. The sound of his voice saying those words runs around my head and my heart, several times a sodding day. I guess the logistics of us being together aren’t exactly of benefit to us anyway, but we aren’t a million miles apart either. He’s merely ‘up the road’, really.

  My contract at the school I’ve been working in for the last three years has just finished and I’m not sure what to do with myself next. They’ve asked me to extend my contract there, but they are unable to offer me a permanent position due to government funding. I’ve applied for a few other positions but I’m contemplating taking a year out and going to stay in Spain with mum and dad. Maybe even find a job out there, and meet a gorgeous Spaniard. Everyone else seems to be moving on, but I seem to be stuck in a rut, and no matter how hard I try to dig myself out of it, I’m stuck and my heart is still unwillingly with a man that can’t reciprocate my feelings.

  All I wanted was a stupid holiday romance. Careful what you wish for.

  I jump as my doorbell rings, and go to answer it. It’s the first day of the school summer holidays and I’ve been listening to my neighbours kids playing outside. I love hearing the children enjoying themselves in the fair weather the summer has brought so far. It reminds me of my own childhood, running around our neighbourhood, plucking petals off of the pretty flowers to make homemade perfume and then getting chased by the house owners for damaging their flowers, playing Kerby with a ball, riding our bikes until dusk. Such happy carefree days. Being an adult sucks big time sometimes.

  As I pull the door open, I am instantly silenced by who greets me.

  “Hello, my name is Maureen, and this is Malcolm,” a middle-aged woman says ever so pleasantly to me. “We are visiting your neighourhood today…”

  Her voice trails off into the clouds, as I can’t take my eyes from Malcolm who is visibly squirming and averting his gaze to anywhere but at me. He seems to be pretending he doesn’t know me, and if I could hear his thoughts, I’m pretty sure they’d be screaming, ‘Don’t talk to me’.

  “Sorry, um, stop,” I hold my hand up to stop the gibbering woman. I have no interest what so ever in what she is saying. “Malcolm?”

  He slowly brings his head round to look at me, but doesn’t seem to be able to speak.

  “Yes, this is Malcolm,” the woman says as if I’m merely repeating his name from her introduction.

  “I know who he is,” I say impatiently. “He used to bloody well live here, with me.”

  The woman takes a surprised step back, “Oh? Well, you never said, Malcolm?”

  “Uh, yeah, sorry…” he looks extremely uncomfortable.

  “Sorry, what is it you are selling, Malcolm?” I ask with a frown, staring at him, and folding my arms while leaning comfortably on my doorframe.

  “This was a bad idea, I’m sorry, Rachel. Really, I didn’t think you’d be home, this was just a really bad idea,” he says again, and starts to back away as Maureen looks confusedly between us.

  “I’m guessing it was indeed a bad idea, yes, but I would now really like to know what you are selling?” I repeat turning my attention back to murmuring Maureen.

  “Uh,” she looks back at me awkwardly. “Well, you likely already know, since you lived with Malcolm, but…”

  “Nope, I really don’t know anything. Please, humour me.”

  Malcolm takes another backward step.

  “Right, well, we are on the look out for people to come and join us. We are a small community of individuals from all walks of life, that believe in spiritualism, celibacy and the art of…”

  I can’t help but cut her off, my sudden eruption of laughter has surprised even myself. As much as I try to compose myself, it’s just not going to happen.

  “Celibacy?” I ask and smack my hand on my thigh as I try to reign it in.

  Someone says, “Ye
s.” I’m not sure whom.

  “You two are quite the tonic,” I manage to say as I straighten myself up, but the giggles get me again. All I can think about is the amount of sexy underwear sets and negligees I have tucked away in a faraway drawer. Not to mention the sex toys, furry handcuffs, various lubricants, and sensual massage oils. I spent a fortune trying to woo him.

  They both stand routed to the ground, watching me inquiringly. I have no idea why they haven’t about turned and left me to it. I suddenly get a flash back from the time I handcuffed him to my bed when he was dozing one evening, and I straddled him wearing nothing but whipped cream. It doesn’t seem quite so embarrassing now that I know it wasn’t just because I’m a munter.

  “Celibacy?” I ask again, and feel my eyes start watering as I try to squelch my hilarity.

  “Yes, and…” the woman tries to carry on with her well-rehearsed speech.

  “NO! Don’t, please! You’re killing me here! I don’t want to hear any more,” the good humour falls from my face as I wave my hands at them. “This bastard lived with me for a year. A whole fecking year. I guess he knew I was too nice and too kind to think he was anything other than my boyfriend. He barely touched me. No explanation of any kind was given, eh, Malcolm? What the hell were you playing at?”

  He seems to retreat even more, “I…” he has the audacity to look guilty. “I needed somewhere to stay, and I thought I could bring you around to my beliefs…” he says quietly, but loud enough for me and the Mau woman to hear.

  “You are serious, aren’t you?” I look at him through eyes that I feel are seeing him for the first time.

  “Yes, you see, we believe…” he starts.

  “I don’t give a fuckaroo about your so called beliefs. If you ask me, the pair of you should go and have a good long shag, then we’ll see where your stupid, selfish, idiotic, beliefs lie. Beliefs indeed,” I shout at the pair of them and notice that the Mau woman has started backing away from the crazy lady too.

  “We’ll just…” Maureen motions to my gate.

  “Yes, please. Exit through that gate and don’t ever walk back through it again,” I shout as I turn around and slam my front door on them.

  I take a moment to lean against the door and catch my breath, when my doorbell rings again. I feel my temper rocket instantly, and I fling the door back open, “GET THE FUUU……”

  “Whoaaa…” says Joel with his hands flying up to protect his face.

  I stop, realise it is Joel standing on my doorstep, and instantly take a step back and let a guilty smile creep over my face.

  “Joel? Sorry, geez… I can explain,” I move aside to let him in, and he does so giving me a cautious look and as wide a berth as the small vestibule will allow.

  “Are you serious?” Joel asks looking dumbfounded as I explain what happened at the door literally seconds before he turned up. I have no idea how he could possibly have missed them, they must’ve fled like sheep.

  I nod, rolling my eyes for effect.

  “I so wish I’d been a few minutes earlier, dammit,” he says then looks down at his mug and the half digestive that is in his hand. The other half is now soggy and at the bottom of his mug. “Oops,” he says looking at it in dismay.

  “He is such a tool,” I tell Joel as I hand him another biscuit.

  “I told you, Talcolm Malcolm,” he grins, dunking another biscuit in his tea but quickly biting it this time. “I knew he was a weirdo. Just knew it.”

  “No joke. Seriously, of all the stupid things that were going through my mind, he is in some sort of cult-ish, community-ish, spiritual-ish, thing…”

  “Ish,” Joel finishes for me and we both giggle.

  “How the hell did I not see this coming?” I look blatantly at Joel for an answer.

  “Honestly, who knows? You’re too nice, I always tell you that,” he shrugs. “And you’re always busy, I’ve been trying to catch you for about a week now. Are you ever at home?”

  “If you’ve been trying to get me, why didn’t you call me?” I ask him.

  “Because I wanted to speak to you in person,” he says studying his mug. “It’s sort of… difficult…”

  “What’s difficult? Is everything ok?” I ask feeling an instant pang of worry in my stomach.

  “Not really, well, you see… it’s the wedding,” he says and carries on studying his mug.

  “Joel, if you look any harder at that mug, the handle is going to snap off,” I smile reassuringly at him so that he will hopefully hurry up and continue.

  “Ugh, I’m not sure I can be at the wedding,” he says.

  “What? Why? It’s your sisters wedding, you have to be there,” I shake my head at him.

  “You’d think, right? But things are not good with mum and dad,” he looks down again.

  “What do you mean? What’s happened?” I ask sitting forward onto the edge of my chair.

  “I… sort of… told you a white lie,” he glimpses at me then quickly away again.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dad hasn’t accepted my coming out,” he says.

  “But…”

  “He went effing mental, Rach. We haven’t talked since. Don’t look at me like that… I thought things would improve, you know, like, blow over or something, but I’m not sure I can forgive him for the things he said. Mum has tried to call me a few times, but…” he rubs his face with both hands, and it’s only then that I notice how exhausted he looks.

  “I don’t understand,” I lean back in my chair again, rubbing my make-up free eyes with my knuckles.

  “I told you, didn’t I?” he looks angrily out the window at some kids kicking a ball.

  “So… When was the last time you saw or spoke to your mum or dad?” I ask while trying to quickly think when it was that I last saw his parents, and it was the day that Bex and Simon left for Inverness. Joel wasn’t there that day. He had to work.

  “Just after we came home from Aviemore after New Year,” he clarifies.

  “So wait, you haven’t seen or talked to them in nearly six months?” I ask completely flabbergasted.

  He nods.

  “Joel… you’ve lied to me all this time?” I ask, in complete and utter shock.

  “Technically, it was a little lie… so you wouldn’t feel sorry for me,” he shrugs.

  “Joel, you, Bex and I need to have a talk about exactly what a ‘white’ or ‘small’ lie is, exactly. We could have sorted things out by now,” I cant help my slightly raised voice.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not your problem, is it?” he argues. “You’ve got your own problems.”

  “Well it is now, Joel. Bex is getting married in three weeks and you are going with me if I have to knock you out and drag you there. I need you there with me, for me, if nothing else… and now, you are going to need me just as much,” I tighten my ponytail.

  He rests his head back on the sofa and exhales toward the ceiling, “I just don’t know, Rach.”

  “Well, I do. You can’t let Simon down anyway, he asked you to be his best man,” I remind him and feel even more annoyed that he could be thinking about not going.

  “I know, I know. I will be there, I’m just not sure how I’m going to get through it though,” he sighs heavily, obviously feeling sorry for himself.

  “I take it Bex knows about all of this?” I ask suddenly wondering if she’s kept me out of this on purpose too.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure if she does. I haven’t talked to her about it either, and she’s never mentioned it, so I’m presuming my folks think it’s just a phase or something. You know, that it might just blow over?” he shrugs nonchalantly.

  I can’t help a small laugh escaping, “Sorry. Being gay isn’t a phase, Joel.”

  He looks up at me, deadpan, then says, “I’m sort of aware of that.”

  “It will be fine,” I say, to myself as much as to Joel. “We will get this all sorted out before the wedding.”

  “I have no idea how, Rach,” he s
ays in denial.

  “Me either, but something has to give.”

  This is going to be a great wedding.

  Just. Bloomin. Great.

  Chapter 33

  “Oh, Bex, you look stunning,” I can’t help but rave at her as she walks into the room with her dress now on. It’s a tea length dress made from satin with a silver belt and diamantes detailing the bodice. She has her hair swept up into a timeless French knot and a short veil, which is currently hiding her pretty face.

  She waves her hand in front of her face, “I don’t think I’m going to get through this without crying.”

  I swallow back some tears, “It’s alright, I don’t think there is going to be a dry eye in the room.”

  “My beautiful girl,” her mum follows her through, smiling from ear to ear. “Are you ready, girls?”

  “As we’ll ever be,” I smile and hand Bex her wedding bouquet made from lilies.

  “Let’s do this!” she announces taking a deep breath and turning to follow me out of the room.

  My dress is also really beautiful, it’s tea length as well, lilac in colour with a silver belt and a few diamantes decorating around my sweeping neckline. My hair is pinned up at the sides but has been curled gently to frame my face. Bex picked everything, and I feel extremely lucky she made me feel, if not look, pretty.

  As we get to the aisle that was created in the marquee, I see Deb and Martin Senior at the back, watching us walk forward. Bex had said it wouldn’t be a big wedding, but there must be at least seventy people here, if not more. Luckily when Deb said they had a marquee, she really meant it. It is enormous, and it’s decorated like something right out of a fairytale.

  I’m glad the first faces I see are of those I know. I smile at them both and then try not to miss a step as I carefully walk down the aisle first. I see Simon and Joel standing waiting for Bex at the alter. Then, I see Bex and Joel’s mum sitting at one side of the aisle, my parents are sitting right behind her, and Simon’s parents are at the other side of the aisle.

  Simon and Joel both give me cheeky grins before the wedding march begins and Bex starts her walk down the aisle, arm in arm with her dad.