by Jenny Colgan
Then it was all said, the register signed, and we turned back, Tashy smiling as gamely as she could for the photographs. I couldn’t see through a wash of tears. People were shouting my name, I could hear that for certain, but as the confetti flew and the cameras snapped, I willed myself into keeping them out of focus.
‘I’m going to cut the cake as soon as possible,’ she announced as they headed for the car to take them to the reception. ‘Don’t you think?’
I nodded frantically. Then I could make my wish and get the hell out of here and … well, I suppose I could worry about the rest later.
‘Well,’ said Max, dragging her along, ‘we have to say hello to everyone first. Then there’s a two-hour champagne reception. Then there’s dinner, of course. Then there’s the speeches – I think you’ll rather like mine – then I think we all break for coffee and then I suppose it’s the cake.’
‘Why don’t we do the cake first?’
‘You’re my crazy firecracker, aren’t you, baby? Always trying to be different.’
‘Wild and crazy, that’s me,’ said Tash through gritted teeth. ‘Always defying expectations.’
‘You look lovely,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t she, short bridesmaid stranger?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Lovely.’
And he smiled and looked happy as they got in the car, flashbulbs going off, and I felt worse than ever.
I didn’t know bridesmaids had to stand in receiving lines. This was stupid. Particularly next to Max’s very unprepossessing fat best man, who was half-heartedly trying to chat me up with the air of a man who knows he’s completely unattractive to women his own age but reckons he might have a shot with someone extraordinarily naïve and is trying to work out just how naïve you are.
‘So, you like Big Events?’ he was whispering.
‘As long as they’re very hot and exciting,’ I whispered back, making him break out in a slight sweat. God, this is boring. Plus, I was going to have to duck for cover if we saw Tashy’s gay boss, whose daughter I was pretending to be.
Olly’s eyes bored into mine as he made his way down the line. He was clearly furious with me.
‘I hope you’re not going to say this is all my fault,’ I said when he got to me.
He planted a very unaffectionate kiss on my cheek and tried to smile whilst saying, ‘Who else’s could it be? Everything was fine before you did all this.’
‘Yes, you believe that,’ I said, stung, but he had already passed on.
He held Tashy out at arm’s length. ‘You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ he said, his eyes drinking her up and down. ‘That dress is absolutely perfect.’
Tash got some real colour in her cheeks for the first time that day.
‘Thank you,’ she said. She bit her lip and looked at the floor. Then she reached up and kissed him. ‘Thank you.’
Olly touched his cheek.
‘Max,’ he said, overheartily. ‘You’re the luckiest man in the world.’
‘Looks like it!’ said Max.
‘No. You are,’ said Olly quietly. With another look at Tash, and a quick flash of annoyance at me, he crossed the room to inspect the food. I spotted him upending a glass of champagne down his throat in double-quick time, a very unOlly thing to do.
‘You look like Little Miss Muppet,’ said Justin.
‘Who even let you in this line?’
‘Oh, come on, I had to, didn’t I? Give us a kiss?’
He looked delicious, in a navy-blue suit, with a lighter blue shirt and tie.
‘Is that your first suit?’
‘Why, what’s wrong with it?’
‘Nothing, nothing.’
He was so cute. I wanted to put my hand on his curls, but his brother was right down the line, so I thought maybe best not.
‘It’s my interview suit,’ he said gruffly.
‘For what? Court?’
‘College actually.’
Clelland hoved into earshot.
‘Given any thought as to where you’re going to go?’ I said.
‘No,’ said Justin. Then he looked at me again. ‘Maybe I should stay close to home.’
‘Justin, sweetie, thanks so much for coming,’ said Tashy. She dragged him over to her by the sleeve, obviously keen at least to look him up and down all over. ‘You have grown so much.’
‘That’s because you knew me when I was two,’ said Justin sulkily, as Clelland took his place.
‘I talked him out of Aberdeen,’ said Clelland. ‘Gets a little cold up there.’
I looked at him. ‘You can say that again.’
He shook his head. ‘This is a rum old business, isn’t it, Flora?’
‘Where’s Madeleine?’
He looked down. There was a long pause. ‘She’s gone. Had to get back to Africa. I was meant to go too.’
‘She went without you? When?’
He looked even more uncomfortable.
‘When?’
‘People there need her more than I do.’
‘Was it on Saturday?’
He nodded. So when I was in bed with Justin he must have been … Oh God. This didn’t bear thinking about.
He looked at me. ‘You look lovely. Are you sure you want to come back, child?’
‘Don’t call me child,’ I said, swallowing hard. Did I want to go back? Did I?
‘OK. Are you sure?’
‘Fuck, no,’ I groaned.
‘I should never have gone to Africa, you know.’ He looked a little misty. ‘I should have stayed on, got my PhD. Science, maybe … discover something a lot more useful to a lot more people.’
‘I was thinking more about maybe going to art college,’ I managed to squeeze out. OK, Madeleine had gone, but here he was, advising me to go off and sit exams. Like a child.
‘Oh, yeah. Oh God, you’ll have so much fun.’
‘Stop it,’ I said.
‘OK.’
‘Look what Tash is putting herself through for me.’
‘OK.’
He stepped sideways, put his arms round Tash and gave her a massive squeeze. ‘Hey,’ he said to her softly. ‘You’ve done an amazing thing. You really have.’
‘Don’t talk toss,’ she said, slightly muffled.
He put her down. ‘You’ll be fine. I know it. I just do.’
‘Goodness, no one can keep their hands off my woman today, it seems,’ said Max in that slightly stiff way of his. ‘I thought wearing white was supposed to keep all that under control.’
‘It’s cream,’ said Tashy.
‘Oh,’ said Max. ‘Well then.’
Clelland smiled, shook Max as briefly as possible by the hand and disappeared into the throng. I noticed, with a horribly sick déjà vu, that Justin was having a conversation with Oliver about the food, waving a sausage covered in sesame seeds.
‘There you are, darling!’ It was my mum. ‘We thought you were great up there.’
‘A true pro,’ said my dad. ‘Effortless. Although you could have smiled a bit more for the photos.’
‘My mouth was tired,’ I said.
‘Look at all this!’ My dad nudged Tashy. ‘Gosh, you guidance counsellors must be making more money than I thought!’
‘Dad!’ I tugged on his arm. ‘Don’t be embarrassing.’
‘Mr Scurrison,’ said Tashy, turning it on with a huge big smile. ‘How lovely of you to come. Wasn’t Flora magnificent?’
‘We’re so proud of her,’ said my dad. He swallowed and glanced at me. ‘Almost made us remember our big day, eh, Joyce?’
‘Ooh, it was a long time ago!’ said my mother, but she blushed a little, nonetheless, and he pushed her on the shoulder.
Tash raised her eyebrows at me. Then she redoubled her efforts.
‘Hi,’ said a character to me. ‘I’m Marshall. Isn’t this fabulous?’
‘Hi, Dad,’ I said, without prompting.
That was the longest dinner of my life. A dinner, too, I’d already eaten, so I was denied the
pleasure of guessing whether the salmon would be cold or pan-fried. Between us, Tashy and I ate about enough to sate a very small mouse who’d spent the morning at a cheese and wine party.
The speeches were interminable too. Oddly, whilst Max’s was exactly the same – and, for me, even worse, because I could wince now even longer before we got to the far-approaching punchline – her dad’s was somehow different. He seemed less proud, less sure of himself; less confident all over. This wasn’t good.
I was on the top table, and glumly watched my parents urge each other to try different foods, and giggling and glancing at each other throughout the toasts. At one point they even clinked glasses. My dad was trying too hard. Oh God, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back. They needed me here, they really did. How could I take this away from them? I was dreading it. But if I didn’t, then all this around me was a waste. A waste of lives, a waste of money, a waste of everything. I looked at my mum’s smiling face and thought back to when she sat here before, nervously checking with me in case she had to pay for anything, or whether or not it was OK to take second helpings. Olly, on another table, spotted me looking at my mother – who, of course, had not the slightest clue who he was. He smiled ruefully then raised his eyebrows.
At last, at last, with the coffee still warm in my mouth, the caterers looked as if they were starting to clear the tables away. I had to get out. I had to clear my head. I needed to think. I looked at Tashy.
‘I’m going out …’
‘Run,’ she said. She was drinking rather heavily for a bride. ‘Run as fast as you can and never look back.’
‘I was thinking more of a walk around the garden.’
‘Whatever,’ she said dully. I took off like a bolt of lightning.
Oh God, here it was again. I’d forgotten about the stupid effing fountain. I walked around it, resisting the urge to kick it. Such a beautiful day. In the distance, I could see my parents too, taking a little walk in the sunshine. Were they holding hands? Oh, crap. Maybe I shouldn’t go. Maybe I had to.
I sat on the side of the fountain, idly lifting my skirt, and stretching my legs out in front of me, twirling my skinny ankles, admiring the sheer, unfreckled whiteness of my legs, the lack of wrinkliness in the knee. Who knew you got wrinkles in your knees? Not me.
‘Here!’ Justin looked triumphant. ‘John’s bloody watching me like a hawk, but I managed to sneak away and I got these.’ He handed over two bottles of pink Bacardi Breezer. He must think it was my favourite. ‘Cigarette?’ he proffered me a Benson & Hedges.
‘God, no. Don’t even think of it, stinky boy.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever.’
He stretched out on the grass. ‘This isn’t too bad after all, now, is it? Lift your skirt up again.’
I smiled. ‘What do you think this is, lapdancer central?’
‘I cannot wait till I’m twenty-one,’ said Justin dreamily. Then he remembered himself. ‘Not that they’ll be as nice as you.’
‘You’re probably right,’ I said.
I had been having slight second thoughts about everything we’d done before. Maybe he would think all girls were as easy as me and get turned into some kind of daytime TV presenter sex fiend. But, watching him as he smiled lazily, completely relaxed, getting grass stains on his new suit, half closing his eyes against the late afternoon sun, I figured he’d be alright.
‘You’ll be alright,’ I said out loud.
‘What’re you talking about?’ he said, blinking.
‘You’ll be fine.’
‘Uh, yeah. Maybe you shouldn’t drink so fast in the hot sun.’
‘Hey!’ shouted Clelland, striding over the lawn. His tie was loosened and he’d unbuttoned his shirt a little. It made him look adorably ruffled.
‘We were just talking,’ I said, trying not to look guilty.
‘I hope so.’
‘We were.’ I was blushing again.
He looked at me, and I melted.
‘Well, anyway …’ he said. ‘Are you smoking?’
‘No!’
‘Oh. Right. God. No, it’s just … they’re about to cut the cake.’
‘Flora! Flora!’ It was my mother’s voice. ‘They’re cutting the cake! You should come to see it.’
‘Yes, yes,’ I said. Olly too was now running out of the house, running for me.
‘They’re cutting the … !’
He was shouting, and I suddenly felt very tender for him, looking out for me; tearing across the short grass just to make sure I was alright.
‘Cake cutting?’ said Justin, closing his eyes again. ‘That sounds boring.’
‘You’re not needed, squirt,’ said Clelland.
‘Fine,’ said Justin. ‘I’ll stay here. Come back soon, Flo.’
I looked at him, and suddenly a lump welled up in my throat. I was frozen to the spot.
‘I don’t know,’ I said.
‘Flora,’ said Clelland, softly.
I looked again at Justin, lying stretched out on the grass, like one of those beautiful boys from pictures of Edwardian house parties, not long before they all went off to Belgium to get slaughtered.
I clutched Clelland’s arm.
‘You don’t have to,’ he said.
‘I don’t know,’ I said again.
‘You’ll be fine,’ he whispered.
‘Don’t be long,’ murmured Justin, but he already sounded as if he was drifting off into sleep.
The room looked eerily, horribly similar. Tashy was standing at the cake, her face completely fixed. She was staring at me.
‘Get on with it,’ somebody shouted. She didn’t move. I walked forward until I was facing her.
‘We’re going to cut the cake now,’ she said weirdly, as if she was announcing it on television. She was standing in front of Max, almost obscuring him in her pure dress.
‘I know,’ I said, equally stiffly.
I could feel Clelland behind me, standing as if to steady me.
‘Are you ready?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t,’ said Tashy.
Max nudged her. ‘Erm, can we get a move on?’
I looked around. My parents were there, smiling anxiously, hopefully; at me and each other; holding hands. Tashy was standing, so beautiful and defiant. Olly was lurking sullenly in the background. And in the garden, perfect and dreaming, a boy, young and guileless, without a care or a fear in a world under a golden sky.
The two hands joined on the knife, and pressed down.
Chapter Seventeen
Nothing happened.
Chapter Eighteen
I’d expected – I don’t know, a blackout. A disappearance. Maybe a blinding flash of light? Or a jump to the next morning, or something. Something.
I had done it. Instinct had taken over. My eyes had focused on the cake, the wish bubbling up – and I had spoken it, I must have. Stupidly, I was tempted to say, ‘I wish I was twenty-five again,’ but swallowed it at the last minute. I had said, ‘I wish I was my own age again.’
Maybe that’s why it had worked badly! Maybe it thought I just wanted to stay sixteen! Olly was right: I had arrested my development so completely I would be staying here for the rest of my life! Or would go round it over and over again! Or nobody would remember anything about it and I’d be confined to an insane asylum like Sarah Connor!
All this flashed through my mind as I concentrated on the two hands on the cake, cleaving it through to the bottom, and all around me there was applause, and flashbulbs went off and people cheered. Tashy and I stared at each other, and her eyes were wide and shocked. Then I blinked, several times, and let my field of vision expand to take in the whole scene. Tashy was still in front of Max, but as they started to move, my focus shifted and became blurry. It couldn’t be … it just didn’t …
The person standing behind Tashy suddenly wasn’t Max. It was Olly.
Tashy’s face of shock widened as she realised whose hand she was clasping so hard. Then she turned
round, and her mouth dropped in delight, and she shrieked and jumped up, wrapping herself around him and almost knocking his ears off. His face too was comical, his eyebrows fighting each other like quotation marks, his ears pink as a pig’s.
‘You know, for such a short courtship, I never thought it would work,’ I heard somebody – probably her mother – say behind me. ‘But they certainly look happy enough.’
I wanted to rush up to them, run into them, but they were clearly in a private moment of such joy and intimacy it would be sacrilege to interrupt them. All those secret meetings; discussion about me, my arse! They were falling in love! No wonder Tashy had been so tragic these last few weeks.
I grinned from side to side, then realised what this might mean. Oh God, I had to get to a mirror. Now. I looked down. I was wearing the same Karen Millen trouser suit I’d worn first time round. I stumbled out, hearing voices calling my name, but ignoring them so I could rush into the bathroom, breathing heavily, my heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour. I leaned my face against the cool tiles, counted to ten and tried to will myself to look in the mirror. Oh God. Oh no.
It was me, alright, the first touch of tiny wrinkles under my eyes. I looked really tired. My teeth seemed yellower. But, in a funny way, I was so, so pleased to see myself again. This was … this was me. Not an unformed me, barely touched by life. But a me I was quite happy to see. A me who had clearly smiled a lot in life. A me who had her curls under control. I lifted up my under arm and felt it flop with a dispiriting wobble. But still: look at my nicely curved breasts, blooming up under the well-cut Karen Millen suit. I looked pretty much OK. No, I looked good. Holding up well. In fact, I felt better about the way I looked than I had for a long, long time. All that wasted energy, thinking that if I was old again, I’d be a complete hag.