by Ruby Soames
22
A gong makes everyone jump. Nelson announces in his didgeridoo of a voice that we will soon toast Mr and Mrs Hardwick. This will be followed by more champagne and canapés in the hotel tea lounge. He briefs us on the evening’s entertainment and passes around a printout with the itinerary and lists of specialist dry cleaners and taxi services provided by the hotel. Lucille, the maid of honour, slops out flower petals for us to throw at the couple as they pass by.
Nelson leads Yuleka and Henry through the centre with Lucille, Zechariah and their entourage following behind. Occasionally, Nelson breaks off to encourage passers-by to come forward. Most people, however, are picking up their beach bags and finishing off the last of the champagne.
When it comes to my turn to chuck petals, Yuleka draws my face into her bush of hair. ‘Our brrrridesmaid,’ Yuleka squeezes our heads together. ‘Wasn’t it beautiful?’ she kisses me again, prickling my cheeks. ‘Henry and I are really grateful you were here for us’.
We turn to Henry. ‘Congratulations,’ I say to my father.
He kisses my cheek – or rather, grazes it. ‘Thank you for being our flower girl. You will join us for our little bash tonight?’
‘I’d love to.’
Then Henry looks at me as though he’s going to ask me something. My heart swells in my chest pushing against my lungs. He moves closer to my cheek, ‘Do you know if there’s a Gent’s nearby?’
‘Er, no, there’s the hotel lobby.’ I wish I could be more helpful.
‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’ He moves onto the next colony of well wishers.
Yuleka and I stand opposite each other.
‘You look …’
‘… Too hot to be a bride, darling, I know. Do you think they over-did it with the flowers? I keep finding green flies in my drink.’ She looks around wearily, ‘Oh! I can’t wait to get out of here, into our room and have a long cool shower before Henry and I fuck like rabbits. We will be doing it all night – between you and me, darling, it takes him all night to do what a young man can do all night!’ She nudges me, ‘You see, darling, we need to …’ she raises one eyebrow conspiratorially.
‘You’re planning a family?’ I ask trying to keep a note of disbelief out of my voice.
‘All Henry wants is family. He’s never had a loving family, you know. He’s never had the chance to be the great father he could be – and, I can tell you, we really need an heir – you know what an heir is?’
I nod.
‘Eh? So it’s oysters, champagne and Ne Pas Deranjay until we get one!’ She winks at me, pushes her breasts together and lifts her flowers into the air. ‘Hey, Sarah, darling – catch!’
Before I have a chance to think, I put my arms out and the bouquet lands into them.
‘So, you will be next!’ laughs Yuleka. ‘Henry, Henry! Sarah caught the bouquet!’
‘Oh really?’ mutters my father, ‘Jolly good. If you’re quick enough you can use our marquee – and share the costs!’
‘Not a bad idea, they’ve been ripping us off at every turn,’ says Yuleka in a muttered breath, ‘I’m demanding a cake upgrade. How late was the best man? Bloody hell!’
Nelson’s voice breaks up her complaints. ‘To Henry and Yuleka!’
‘To the couple of a thousand dreams!’ hollers Zechariah.
Henry and Yuleka kiss, make a dash through the makeshift chapel while we applaud and throw the last of the confetti.
‘And now, last thing! Attention!’ calls Zechariah who’s finally taken off his silver jacket. ‘Attention everyone!’ He claps to get the meandering congregation to focus on the event.
‘The Bride and Groom will jump over the broom.’ He places a besom in front of Henry and Yuleka’s feet. ‘This is an ancient African custom to symbolise the beginning of a new life. The couple jump over this everyday kitchen utensil and the magic of eternal happiness will begin!’
‘Cookin’ and cleanin’, pickin’ up after him, some life!’ calls out a woman with two teenage boys who are gawping at Yuleka’s breasts.
A drum roll starts, the singers hum. There’s a loud bang, one of the singers cries out something in an African tongue, and Henry and Yuleka are cued to jump over the broom. They hop together, Henry losing his footing and tripping a little but they get to the other side.
‘A new life!’ Nelson claps his hands in the air. ‘Another toast to the couple’s new life of happiness forever after!’
Henry wipes his forehead with a serviette.
‘And now,’ Zechariah bends towards Yuleka and whispers, ‘are you absolutely sure you don’t want the releasing of the peace doves – they’re tame, I promise – we have them here?’
Henry shakes his head, frowning.
‘Get on with it,’ Yuleka says flicking her hand at him.
‘Fine! Mr and Mrs Hardwick – you may now depart from this beautiful, magical ceremony of a thousand dreams!’
Henry and Yuleka are pushed out of the arcade by the singers and their friends. Yuleka turns back to us and gives a final wave. Henry plods forward, his legs bowing to ease the friction of his shorts rubbing against his thighs. Yuleka stumbles in front of him, tripping on the skirt she’s Velcroed back on.
Some guests refill their drinks, others pick bits of confetti out of their clothing, but most watch the couple reach the perimeter of the hotel’s beach only to find the gate is blocked by the street traders.
‘Jeez, we’ll never get rid of them,’ says a voice next to me.
Henry and Yuleka are forced to turn around and walk by the side of the hotel, past the line of bins. Another wave and they’re gone.
‘Wedding of a thousand nightmares!’ laughs Peter. ‘Tell me, what does he see in her?’
I can feel his breath against my neck.
‘Of all the species, the human female is the only one who has breasts when not lactating – natural selection shows that men like big tits,’ I say.
‘Of all the species, the human male has the biggest penis.’ Peter cocks his head to one side.
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Good point.’
‘And don’t you make the most appetising bridesmaid. I saw you catch the bride’s flowers – doesn’t that mean you’ll be marrying next?’ He kisses my shoulder, puts his hands around my hips.
‘It means I’m a good catch,’ I mutter, overwhelmed by the champagne.
‘You certainly are,’ he winks. ‘I came to your room to collect you but you weren’t there.’
‘I went for a walk.’
I wave at Suzie who’s leaving the beach on the back of the hotel’s chef. ‘See you two at the party tonight! Giddy up!’ she cries as she bounces off.
‘Fun wedding,’ I say mechanically.
‘You think so? I make it a rule not to do weddings. But this, I had to see!’
‘You don’t like weddings?’
He’s still clamped around my waist, talking low. ‘Oh, you know. The idea of spending a day rejoicing in someone else’s happiness is kind of unappealing, don’t you think? At least we were spared the tedium of meeting their families, but hey, I don’t want to be cynical, I could see you were pretty moved by it all …’
‘Hardly! Their best man was on an hourly rate!’
‘But I was watching you Sarah, you kinda looked choked up. Don’t be embarrassed, I’m sure there’s a romantic in me, it just didn’t surface seeing that old man slobber all over that little gold digger.’
‘So what do you think he sees in her?’
‘Never underestimate the sexual vanity of an ageing man – it’s caused empires to fall and the great men of history to act like complete assholes. Henry Hardwick is a walking example of the depths to which it’ll take us.’ He raises his eyebrows and looks over his sunglasses. ‘But on a lighter note, are you coming to the dinner?’
‘How could I miss the chance to toast the happy couple one more time?’
‘Shall we go together or will you be running off beforehand?’
‘Let’s
go together. Why don’t you jump over my wall about eight?’
‘Try and stay out of trouble until then.’
23
Dear Daddy,
Please don’t be angry at Mum. I know I wasn’t supposed to but I read why Mum’s in hospital in our social worker’s folder. She said that Mum followed you and your wife to a restaurant and tried to attack you both with a toilet brush? She said that mummy is bi-polar. This is when you are sometimes nice and sometimes a wild thing like a polar bear. She said that her problems weren’t properly recognised before. Still, she did a bad, bad thing and I’m sure she’s very sorry. At the moment she’s still in the psychiatric ward and on pills which make her dribble but when she gets better she’ll be really embarrassed and I’m sure would say sorry except that you threatened an Injunction against her.
Mum is trying to get better now. In a few weeks she’s going back to work at the Dolphin Literary Agency. Her boss Robert is going to keep her job open, not only that, she’s being promoted to secretary and ‘reader’ (a little pay rise!). That’s how much they like her – she’s even getting Thursday afternoons off for her group-therapy sessions and can pick me up from school, which will be embarrassing for me but she said she’s always dreamt of doing that but it’s a bit late now as NO mum picks their kids up in Year 9.
We now have a new social worker, Alison Anderson. She wants to save the planet and she never takes transport that uses fossil fuels so she walks everywhere in these shoes that make your bum tight. She visits a lot and drinks hot water. She says she can get mum more help but it all depends on you not pressing charges. Please don’t press charges.
Sorry this is so rushed but my host mother is calling me for dinner. I’m staying with the Davis family. These are the temporary care people I’m living with. They’re both dentists. I want to go home but they can’t say when I’ll be allowed to.
Wish me luck in my SATS next week.
Gotta now.
PS Please don’t press charges!!!
Tons of love Sarah xxx
24
Peter raps playfully at my door and, when I let him in, he starts a little at seeing me. ‘Your hair, it’s beautiful,’ he says.
The flirtation is on.
Peter is dressed in a charcoal suit and pink shirt. I touch his jacket sleeve. His after-shave triggers something in my brain which makes it fizz with desire. Every time he speaks I can smell it, does he drink the stuff? I hold his gaze longer than I normally would and play self-consciously with my hotel key card as we have drinks in the hotel bar.
‘So tell me about the happy couple,’ I ask, ‘what have you found out about them?’
‘Never met them before, heard about them, the dumb gossip.’
‘Like …?’
‘He’s a lawyer – a silk or something you call it? Sounds like he’s worked hard all his life, played by the rules, so I guess Yuleka’s helping him live a little.’
‘How did he meet someone like Yuleka?’
‘You’re interested?’
‘I was the bridesmaid.’
‘Apparently,’ he lowers his voice, ‘Yuleka and her ex-husband worked in a West End nightclub – I can’t remember the name – though I’ve been there – bet you have too. Yuleka was a “waitress”,’ he flicks his index fingers in the air to show inverted commas around the word. ‘The owner was pressing charges for theft, embezzlement, prostitution and drug dealing. Henry not only won her the case – he countercharged the guy for sexual harassment, pimping, exploiting workers and selling to under-age customers. That’s how the love affair started. Bunny told me that once they were together – suffice to say, she dumped her husband pretty fast – they launched a ferocious campaign against his ex-wife, Caroline? Catherine? Karen …? Whatever. When the former Mrs Hardwick found out about his affair and that Henry was gonna clean her out, she went pretty crazy – that played straight into their hands. They arranged, through the kids, to have her sent to a rehab centre. Once she was there, Yuleka moved into the house, changed the locks, had the dogs put down. She turned the boys against their mom and had them testify all kinds of things against her: incompetent mom, unstable and a prescription-drug addict. Henry had an easy divorce – not only that, he came out a hero for having put up with a terrible woman for so long.’
‘So Henry’s children liked Yuleka?’
‘She kept them close until the divorce went through, then she dumped them. Henry’s cut them both off. They are now in the process of suing him for the Norfolk estate and family heirlooms. Imagine fighting against Henry, gotta feel sorry for ‘em. People who knew Henry and his last wife say Yuleka was like a living nerve gas, decimating everything in his life until she was the only thing left.’
‘Nasty.’
‘This is from Bunny, by the way, who’s an old friend of the wife’s. That’s all I know.’
‘But why doesn’t Henry speak to his children anymore?’
‘Yuleka’s not the sharing kind.’
‘Hasn’t anybody said anything to him about her?’ I ask.
‘What can you say? He’s hooked now but he’ll catch on to her later. I mean, she’s not subtle – on their first night here she tried to make out with wheelchair Roy, but hey, I’m not one to gossip.’
‘Why are they all so friendly to her?’
‘They’re on holiday, she’s part of the entertainment,’ he swallows the last of his drink. ‘Let’s grab a car.’
A man dressed as Marilyn Monroe is playing a white piano through a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke. Sitting next to him, Henry presses down on the same note over and over again. The place is packed, loud, hot.
Yuleka sashays up to Peter, ‘You can flirt with me now – I am a married lady!’ Then she shouts into the crowd, ‘You know, you’re not officially married until you’ve consumed it – well, now we’ve been married five times over!’ she claps her hands to her pelvis jutting it back and forth.
Henry feigns more embarrassment and turns to the pianist with a smug grin, ‘I think she means “consummated”. Not sure it was absolutely five but …’
‘You look great,’ says Peter, disentangling himself from her.
‘Sarah, how lovely to see you darling, have one of these,’ she hands me a drink from the waiter’s tray. ‘It’s punch, strong enough to knock us all out! Don’t touch the Champagne, it’s fucking Prosecco – they think they can fool me!’
She turns to a man wearing nothing but a waistcoat and tight black bathing trunks. ‘Oscar, darling! You found us!’
Peter is a most attentive date. He introduces me to people, leaves me briefly, and returns with expertly rolled joints. We sit together, our knees touching as we watch people dance until the DJ announces, ‘And now, the first dance for Mr and Mrs Henry Hardwick!’
Many people look confused, as though they didn’t know it was a wedding party. The spotlight searches out Henry and Yuleka and finds them kissing. Yuleka roars with laughter as though mortified at being caught canoodling.
The crowd break into a chant of ‘Dance! Dance! Dance!’
Yuleka buries her head into Henry’s armpit while he wheezes into his drink. They appear reluctant but it’s a poorly-acted charade of shyness just to prolong Yuleka’s moment in the limelight. It doesn’t take long before she levers her husband out of his chair, stubs out his cigar and tows him into the space lit by a pair of glitter balls. Henry plays up to his audience, acting the victim of this sexually demanding nymphet. She gives him a come-hither look and he does, clumsily, to the crowd’s cheers. As they clasp each other tight, I think of a hybrid reptile, all arms, legs and bits hanging out.
They dance to When a Man loves a Woman, while the audience make the appropriate ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Aaaaahs’ and the couple grapple with each other in slow motion.
Finally, Yuleka breaks from Henry and urges the partygoers to dance too.
I chat to two girls, hairdressers from Crouch End, ‘Da Split-Crouch Endz’, who’d saved their tips for this holiday. We
dance together, the three of us. It’s only been days since I left London but to hear these girls talk about home makes me long for Joseph.
Peter breaks into our trio and grabs me for a slow dance. Whatever’s strong about the punch is nothing compared to the intoxicating vapours along his neck. His lips nuzzle into my hair and I’m away. When I say we dance, it’s more that he’s carrying me around the floor.
25
When the slow dances are over, we sink into over-sized cane armchairs where the crowd from lunch are sitting. Bunny is snorting cocaine from what looks like a silver pepper mill. She wipes her nose, keeping her eyes fixed on Peter. Roy is very drunk, his eyes sad and red. He points towards a stunning Barbadian woman who’s writhing lethargically to the music and calls over to Peter, ‘Give her five hundred d-d-d-dollars to sit on my face’.
Peter shakes his head.
‘Go on, old boy, do what you can for us.’ Peter tries to laugh it off but Roy shouts loudly over the music, ‘I’m a fucking c-c-c-c-cripple, P-P-Peter. I’ve only got two things I can thank our blessed Lord for: a t-t-t-t-title and a c-c-cock!’
Bunny stands up, wraps her Pashmina around her shoulders and glides to the other side of the room.
Roy gazes up at a pretty blonde on her way to the toilets. ‘Hello! Come and have a drink?’ He grapples for her arm. ‘Have you ever met a Lord before?’
‘Do I know you?’ she asks.
‘Of course! I’m your future ex-husband. Enchanté!’
She pulls away from him as he tries to wheel himself into the ladies’ after her.
Peter takes my hand for another dance. Roy calls to him but his chair knocks into the table and a tumbler of rum pours into his lap.
Peter and I dance around each other. I’m aware of Bunny watching as though I’m someone dawdling in a queue in front of her. Keeping her eyes on me, she strides over to Yuleka. I try to ignore them as Peter takes me by the waist and twirls me around. Each time I land into his body, he gives me small kisses on the shoulder.
Then Yuleka cuts in, insisting I dance with her husband, ‘Henry is the best dancer, oh, Henry, tell her about that night at Tramp‘s … Oh Henry, tell her about the …’ she whispers in his ear while he smiles, false modesty all over his face.