by Ruby Soames
‘You are being careful, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I am.’
‘Hush now!’
‘Mum, who are you talking to?’ I hear the familiar sound of a dog barking. ‘What’s Elvis doing there?’
‘Joseph brought him over. He said I could look after him.’
‘How was he?’ I ask.
‘He’s fine, just needs a wee. Ring me later in the week. Go and get your lead, I said, I’m coming.’ And she’s off the phone.
I have never known my mother say ‘goodbye’ on the telephone. She has issues with endings and letting go which is why I’m glad I wasn’t tempted to tell her what I’m doing this afternoon.
So Joseph hasn’t been able to find a walker for Elvis and has dumped him on my mother. I’m glad the dog’s safe, and that I’m still needed for something, but I feel piqued that he’s asking favours of my mum. You just can’t do that after a break up.
I accidently stab my scalp while trying to pin up my hair. I’m nervous. I’m going to a wedding. I’m going to be a bridesmaid. My father’s bridesmaid.
18
Signs for the Marriage of a Thousand Dreams direct me down to the far end of the beach where Henry and Yuleka’s tribe stand under the palm shade. The Viscount is coiled and wilting in his wheelchair which someone’s dressed in colourful flowers and pineapples. His wife chomps on her cigarette holder looking semi-conscious with boredom in her large mirrored sunglasses. Susie is chatting up the chef who’s barbecuing squid on a skewer. The bride is glowing in a bright red gypsy-style dress with matching flowers in her hair – even her stilettos are red – a bleeding heart clashing with the bougainvillea. My father has tucked a Hawaiian shirt into his Bermuda shorts. They all look like they’re in desperate need of a siesta or drip-fed saline solution. Even the waitresses seem exhausted; their lemon cocktail dresses are creased and the waiters can’t keep up with the demand for more champagne.
There’s a loud bang on a drum and a man in a silver-white suit waves his arms to get people’s attention. ‘Welcome to Barrrrbaaaados!’
We jump as there’s another thud of the drum.
‘My name is Zechariah – I am the special couple’s wedding planner. Thank you all for coming to be a part of Henry and … and Yuletide’s beautiful day.’ He blows kisses at the crowd as the drum is whacked again by a man in a tribal headdress. ‘Now, before we start – let us prepare by joining hands to unite us on our tunnel of love!’
People look awkwardly at each other.
‘Come on! Come on! Tunnel of love!’ Zechariah moves off the podium and starts physically attaching the congregation hand by hand. ‘Yes! Yes! The tunnel of love! Don’t be shy!’
Henry and Yuleka stand at one end, the steel drums roll.
The suited man then sings out: ‘Please everybody, open wide! Here comes the bride! Our Bajan pride! Join the tunnel of love!’
The drum rolls as Henry and Yuleka push their way through the human arch. A few people look confused when Henry gets stuck three quarters of the way down, and Yuleka bumps into Roy’s wheelchair.
After some random, confused applause we are ushered back to our seats which are cheerily decorated with flowers.
Henry stands at the altar in his socks, his feet resting over the top of the flip-flops he can’t push his toes into.
Yuleka fusses over her bouquet – red flowers – and Henry looks at his watch. He doesn’t turn my way. He doesn’t even know I’m here and probably wouldn’t even remember who I was. But nobody seems to know anybody, most of the crowd have stumbled in from the beach or were part of the hotel’s poolside bathers.
‘Who are the ones getting married?’ asks a South African lady behind me.
I point to Henry and Yuleka.
The spectator squints at them over the top of her Jackie Onassis sunglasses, then picks up the order of ceremony pamphlet from the table and starts fanning herself. ‘Oh right. And where’s the groom?’
‘There. That’s the groom.’
‘Oh,’ she cups her mouth, ‘Are you sure he’s not the father?’ She puts down the pamphlet and pulls out her phone. ‘Gotta take a few shots, for Snapchat.‘
The man next to me winks before talking to someone in front who’s describing a place where a chef cooks lobsters caught fresh from the water.
Henry watches two girls swagger topless into the sea. They are just passing through, but my father follows them with his eyes until they intersect with my own and then he puts out his hands and pretends to make them tremble, mocking a sign of nerves. I laugh a little. Yuleka catches our exchange. She whispers my name tenderly, humbly, as brides do when touched by the face of an old friend who’s travelled far to be there for their big day.
Zechariah looks at his phone – by his expression and the wiping of sweat from his brow, it appears to be bad news. He drops the phone in his top pocket and beams at everyone.
‘Please accept my humblest apologies. There will be a short delay. Usually we’re waiting for the bride, but today, it’s the best man who is late!’ he laughs.
My father’s white knees knock and a garland of flowers wilts around his purple neck. This is the man who’s haunted my dreams for so many years, the other half of my story. Patches of sweat spread under his arms and his nose is red, near to blistering. If only my mum could see him now.
‘Any minute now,’ says Zechariah tapping his foot.
Yuleka scowls at him.
‘Any minute … Don’t worry, baby,’ he says.
Henry takes out a crumpled, white handkerchief to mop up his steaming glasses. I am the only family member at the wedding. A wedding deliberately designed to preclude anything as pedestrian as blood relatives – and their bridesmaid is his illegitimate child. Peter catches me suppressing a smile. He doesn’t smile back. I have a feeling that tonight I’m going to sleep with him. Tonight I need a body to climb into and call home, even if it’s just a short-term rental, and unfurnished.
19
Dear Daddy,
Why didn’t you want to see me when I came to your office? Are you angry with me? Are you cross that I just turned up? Maybe I should’ve rung but I thought it would be good to surprise you.
Did they tell you I came?
You see I came to see you. I waited a long time in the Conference Room reading my book on different dog breeds before that old bag said you never wanted me to come here again or they would call the police. Did you really tell her to say that? I don’t want to go to prison. I didn’t want to do anything bad, just to see you. But you don’t want to see me. Was she your wife or maybe she was your secretary? Why was she so mean to me? Don’t worry. I didn’t tell Mum. She’s bad at the moment and getting worse. I’m staying with Mrs Olsen downstairs because Mum has friends and they make lots of noise at night. She says she can’t keep me too long because her grandson is allergic to my cats. Then I’ll go stay with my friend Kamilla when her mum comes back from Bangladeesh.
I will keep writing, and hope one day that you’ll write back.
When I’m older I’m going to be a lawyer but I’ll be nice to people, especially children.
I love you Daddy.
Sarah xxx
20
Just as people are losing interest, a large, grinning Caribbean man bounces down the aisle to the altar.
There’s the rumble of steel drums and Zechariah leaps up, ‘Ladies and gentleman - may I present - the best man - Nelson!’
The best man wears the classic black tailcoat, white starched shirt and extra-large yellow bow tie with a white carnation pinned to the lapel. He spins around, opening his arms wide so we see two dark circles of sweat inside his jacket.
Zechariah makes a big show of hugging him, slapping him on the back, maybe a little harder than necessary.
Nelson takes the microphone and says, ‘Thank you all for coming to this very special day! Let’s say a loud welcome to the bird – sorry, bride and groom!’
A few people put their hands to
their ears because his voice is so loud. Everything Nelson says sounds as though he’s pronouncing the title of a love song before a slow dance.
Zechariah stands beside him, flapping his hands in the air to encourage the crowd to clap.
Nelson calls out again, ‘Can I hear you? I said, “Welcome”!’ he holds the microphone out to the congregation.
A few people answer, ‘Welcome’ to him. He repeats the exercise.
Zechariah snatches the microphone out of his hands. ‘Thank you best man, Nelson. Now before we start this blessed, blessed ceremony, ahem, do the beautiful couple of a Thousand Dreams have the MP3 player on which you have your wedding day playlist?’
A man nearest Henry fumbles in a rucksack. ‘I’m Terry, one of the witnesses. I put this together earlier. Hope you like it.’
Henry looks at the man as though he’d never seen him before, probably hasn’t, and mutters, ‘Thank you.’
A small choir break into a gospel verse. As the song reaches a climax Nelson blows kisses to the congregation. ‘Beautiful people! What a beautiful day!’
Yuleka beckons me right to her side. I pretend I don’t see her but a guest catches my eye and says, ‘Hey lady, I think she wants you up there.’
I’ve no choice but to walk up the aisle until I bump into her hips.
As the singing comes to an end, Yuleka catches Zechariah’s shirt and says, ‘Hey, this is our bridesmaid, Sarah.’
He places my hand in his fleshy fingers. ‘A very special welcome.’
Nelson gestures at an attendant. ‘Flowers! The bridesmaid should have flowers.’
I hold up the posey that Yuleka had her butler bring in a vase. ‘I’m OK.’
‘No! More flowers! We need many more flowers for our beautiful bridesmaid – big ones on this wonderful big day!’ Nelson releases clouds of alcohol from his breath.
A woman drops a heavy armful of gladioli into my arms. I look at Henry through the petals. He squints straight past me at a latecomer. Yuleka collects both sides of my hair and brings it behind my neck.
‘There, so we can see your pretty face darling. You like the dress? It’s 100 percent silk, eh, it’s not polystyrene.’
The sun’s at its highest. The sand is almost too hot to walk on and the sea is calm, pale blue, almost the same shade as the sky. Three guys carrying surfboards stroll up from the beach. I hear one of them say, ‘No, that’s the bride … in red … I guess the groom’s not shown up yet – not surprised!’ They laugh and move on.
I wonder how long I can hold up these flowers. Someone takes a photograph.
We wait for the music to start. There’s a high-pitch squawk as the iPod is connected. Then, through the amplifiers comes the twanging of an electric guitar followed by a bouncy introduction to the Carpenters, On Top of the World. As members of the wedding party sway to the music, Karen Carpenter sings, and Yuleka turns around to her friends to ensure they appreciate Terry’s wacky choice. She wiggles her hips and clicks her fingers to the crowd, unable to keep from an impromptu cabaret act.
‘The Marriage of a Thousand Dreams!’ calls out Zechariah. ‘I present to you, Henry and Ukulele.’
He gestures for the couple to stand right in front of him. ‘And in comes the priest!’ The volume is turned down, as a small, round very old Caribbean man dressed in black appears from behind the speakers. He nods his head before wringing his hands together. He touches the couple’s shoulders in devoted reverence and closes his eyes in front of the altar.
‘Father Omanada,’ says Zechariah to Yuleka and Henry. ‘He’s a very spiritual man. He has an eighty-seven percent success rate.’
The priest mumbles something about being ‘blessed’ and rambles on. From the seating area all I hear is coughing, whispering and the discreet click of people playing with their cameras.
Every few seconds a light wind breathes warm air against my back, urging, ‘Go on, do something.’ Do something, I will. My mother never had the wedding she so desperately craved, but all the same, here I am on her behalf, by my father’s side in front of a vicar. And I must do something. When the Are there any impediments bit comes, I’ll say, ‘Stop right now! He already promised himself to Florence Tyler twenty-seven years ago and I am the bastard child!’
Am I an impediment?
I hear the priest stutter, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife.’ He bows and shuffles off behind the speakers, from where he came.
Zechariah leaps forward and announces: ‘Thank you, Father! OK folks – now the juicy bit – that’s right Henry, you may now have a good snog, as they say in Britain!’
There’s applause, whistling and the two surfers from earlier reappear with beers in their hands.
One of them heckles, ‘You’ve done it now mate!’
Yuleka turns to the crowd and holds up her arms to get everyone’s attention. In one move she yanks the Velcro of her red flamenco skirt and stands before the congregation in her red G-string bikini. Henry laughs. She jumps so that both of her legs flail on either side of him, and presses her mouth over his as he staggers back. The crowd claps and the music starts up again.
21
Zechariah’s silver suit crinkles as he moves. ‘Welcome to this bountiful marriage of a thousand dreams!’ he says ‘You make a gorgeous bridesmaid.’ He laughs, takes my fingers, kisses them and laughs again as if I’d said something incredibly funny. He then pulls me to his chest, enclosing me in a strong smell of aftershave with a base note of rum. ‘Let me introduce you to Nelson, my colleague.’
The best man has the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. ‘You were an excellent bridesmaid, excellent. I know it’s not easy standing still and being serious with such tremendous excitement all around. I am Nelson, Henry’s best man.’
‘I’m Sarah.’
‘Sarah.’ He grins, taking his time to adjust his focus. ‘Sarah. Sorry I was a little late – the bus broke down just out of Jamestown.’
I ask if he’s known Henry and Yuleka for a long time.
‘Over many lifetimes, yes,’ he replies.
‘How did you meet them?’
‘That is not important – that’s just numbers, details, facts. No, that doesn’t matter when it comes to old souls like us. What matters is that Yukey and … her man are both in my heart forever and ever – the future, that’s what matters, not the past.’
‘So, how do you know them?’
‘I was the first person to greet their airplane on Tuesday,’ he answers, smiling and smiling as if he can’t stop.
‘Oh. So you’re not exactly an old friend?’ I say.
‘Do friends need to be “old”? Does love age?’ he asks. ‘They are beautiful people.’
‘It’s just that … well, usually a best man …’ I stop.
Nelson helps me out with my old fashioned notions, ‘I am included in the Paradise Beach Club Wedding Package. We provide everything for the Wedding of a Thousand Dreams – the Compere, Zech, the Priest, the Best Man – myself - the Well-Wishers, they’re over by the drinks, and here is my colleague, Lucille, the Maid of Honour.’
Lucille gives me a tired I’ve-been-all-day-with-strangers smile.
‘I also do a lot of freelance work. Here’s my card, if ever….’
I glance at it. ‘Funerals?’
‘Oh yes. Lucille is a wonderful crier – and she’s also Rihanna’s first cousin. Hum? You know Rihanna? Lucille sings even better – she breaks my heart every time. Her daughters are very good too. If ever you have need of our services, give me a call.’ He looks over my shoulder to see who else might benefit from his pitch. ‘We can even provide a groom.’
‘Really?’
‘No.’
Zechariah joins us. ‘You are a very beautiful girl and you have a lovely figure, but don’t leave it too long. May I just have a word with Nelson?’
The best man and Zechariah hiss at each other, and it sounds like they are hurrying to another wedding.
Nelson turns to me mournfully, ‘Sarah. We ha
ve to go but will be re-joining you tonight. But first, I have to ask you something. As you know, my big role is yet to come. The speech!’ He smiles so wide I see that all his back teeth are silver. ‘What do you know about the beautiful couple, especially Henry.’ He bends down to my ear and whispers in a voice so low he could be talking into a bucket, ‘Stories, anything humorous, maybe, or embarrassing tales or anecdotes – we even have a PowerPoint projector if you’ve videos or photos I could show.’
For a moment I’m tempted to suggest he tell the guests about the abortion he tried to push my mother into, and then something else comes to me. ‘There is just one little thing …’
I whisper something that he seems to like very much.
‘Marvellous! Thank you for that golden nugget. It’s wonderful to meet you and I look forward to having a dance with you tonight.’
I have another glass of champagne and watch Henry check a large gold watch on his wrist. I try to quash any tenderness I might feel for him, but his thick glasses, his flatfooted gait and even his astounding choice of wife, evokes an odd instinct to protect him.
Yuleka loosens her headdress and spreads all that black hair over her shoulders. She’s so small, so vastly confident and so thrilled with herself. I watch as she moulds her hair into her neck as though it were a shawl. I have a feeling that someone once said they liked the way she does that, because she does it a lot. She turns to Henry – my dad – raises her eyes slowly upwards from under her fringe and looks up at him, adoringly. She strokes his chest, a satisfied reminder of ownership. Susie joins them. More kisses, more laughter.
Not wanting to see Yuleka’s tongue slither inside my dad’s mouth, I look away and see a figure dart behind a palm tree. Then the man, young and dark-haired, moves to stare directly at me. When he sees me looking back at him, he shoots back behind the tree. I move fast. If he’s a reporter I want to stop him printing anything about me. Joseph and I are no longer together; they have to leave me alone. Seeing me coming close, he sprints in the opposite direction.