No One Wants to Be Miss Havisham

by Brigid Coady

  Edie lay beside her staring at the ceiling. She didn’t know whether she preferred waking up to Ghosts or to a hangover and the feeling that something disastrous was just around the corner.

  “Did I imagine it or did my mother snog some bloke last night?” Mel's voice was muffled under the pillow but Edie could still hear the worry in her voice.

  And there was the disaster, turning the corner and waving its hands in Edie's face. Her mouth was dry but now she wasn't sure whether it was from fear or the hangover.

  Maggie and Doug were getting a divorce. And Mel didn’t know, couldn’t know. Edie might not believe in weddings but Mel did, and her parents announcing they were splitting up just before the wedding was not going to happen.

  “As if. Maggie would never do anything like that," Edie tried to put the sight of Maggie snogging the rangy bloke to the back of her mind. "I think you had one too many glasses of bubbly,” she lied.

  Now she had to make sure no one else spilt the beans.

  She sat bolt up in the bed; this called for serious emergency work. She had to speak to every one of the hens before Mel got up so they could get their stories straight. And she didn't trust that cow, Sophie, not to try and use it as a way to make Edie look bad.

  Not on her watch.

  “Why don’t you stay in bed?” she told Mel. “I’ll go and get breakfast started, make sure everyone’s OK.” Keep it light Dickens, she thought, don’t overdo it. She hoped her smile looked a little genuine but it felt more like a rictus grin and she was glad Mel was still covering her face with her pillow.

  “If you don’t mind that sounds great,” Mel snuggled further under her pillow “and if you could find some aspirin then I will give you my first born.”

  Edie shuddered; kids. She pulled on her clothes from yesterday, giving the jersey dress from last night a kick and a quick stamp with her foot, and then promptly regretted it as pain shot upwards. Her feet were swollen and sore from those heels.

  First things first, she needed to make sure Maggie’s secret little mistake was going to stay little and secret even if she had to keep Mel in seclusion for the rest of the weekend.

  She limped out of the bedroom, went out into the hallway and knocked on the first door.

  “Hi, it’s Edie, can I come in?” she slide through a crack in the door and Operation Cover Up was on.

  Forty-five minutes later, she sagged against the wall in the kitchen. The story was straight. Admittedly Sophie had been a little difficult by trying to blame Edie for Maggie's bad behaviour. A few harsh words about how it hadn't been her idea to do Truth or Dare and an unexpected ally in Jo had Sophie toeing the party line. Edie really didn't know what the hell she'd ever done to Sophie, and she was beginning to think Barry had to have been a saint to put up with her as a sister.

  But Sophie notwithstanding, Edie had made sure that Mel had her aspirin and she had also started breakfast. Now she just needed to find Maggie. She hadn’t been in her room.

  Edie chewed on her thumbnail, ruining her new manicure.

  She was worrying needlessly. Maggie was probably up for an early morning walk, just like she did at home. Mind you, after the amount she had put away last night, Edie was surprised she had the energy to make it out of bed. But still, it felt as if something wasn’t quite right.

  Edie poured herself a mug of coffee and went to the back door of the house, taking a five minute break before the bacon needed turning again.

  The sky was the deep clear blue of an early summer morning; some bird was making a racket in the trees. In the house she could hear people moving around, dressing, showering. She preferred the wildlife of the trees than the wildlife inside. She had only a few precious minutes before the hen house descended.

  Edie looked at the little gazebo that was at the end of the garden. Maybe, she thought, they could have coffee out there later before they went back. She admired the sides of it, which were shielded by wisteria and she watched as a butterfly alighted on it and waved its wings gently. The sun lit it and turned into a jewel.

  And then it was gone. Disturbed by a sudden bang in the gazebo, the sides shaking. Who was out there? And what were they doing?

  Looking down at the dewy flagstones, she wrinkled her nose. They were wet and slimy and she didn't have any shoes on. The gazebo shook again. Pouring the left over coffee out of the mug, she wielded it like a weapon and stepped outside. She picked her way carefully down the path; her feet complaining from the damp and the abuse from last night.

  “Who’s there?” she called.

  She held the mug over her head, she hadn’t heard of any violent crimes going on in the Bath or Cotswold area but with her recent track record of things going wrong…

  “Hello?”

  She got closer and peered inside.

  Operation Cover Up was about to be Operation Blown Up.

  “Margaret Remington,” she said. “Put him down right now!”

  Maggie’s hands stopped groping a firm behind that Edie was sure she had seen before. A behind clad in jeans but with a back that was bare and bore a few scratch marks.

  With mussed up hair, Maggie peered over the scratched shoulder.

  “Hi Edie!” she said looking sheepish.

  “Don’t ‘Hi Edie’ me!”

  All the injustices from the past week, all the frustrations and ‘why me’s?’ from being haunted by ghosts from her past rose up. All the unfairness of last night, kissing Jack, and then not kissing Jack bubbled. Having to play mother hen to a group of women who should know better grated. And on top of that, the fact that just this morning she had spent forty-five friggin’ minutes trying to cover up for this middle-aged hussy. All of this welled up inside her. Mel’s hen party would not be ruined. Not when she was in charge. It swelled from deep inside and then erupted.

  “You will go into the house." Edie was shaking with rage but her voice was quiet and precise. Each word bitten off and clipped.

  “And you,” she pointed a trembling figure at the familiar outdoorsy guy that had been attached to Maggie’s face the night before. “You will get your arse out of here and you will do it without being seen."

  He grabbed his shirt, and put it on. He was confused for a moment when it became obvious that no buttons had survived Maggie’s onslaught, so he wrapped it round him.

  “Out!" she said.

  He used his thumb and little finger and held them to his face and mouthed

  “Call me.”

  Edie spun on her abused feet in time to see Maggie blowing him a kiss and giggling.

  Heaven deliver her from hormones.

  “There is nothing to laugh about, lady,” Edie said.

  Maggie drew herself up and failed to look in anyway like the serious maternal figure she was aiming for. Wearing a housecoat over nothing wasn’t going to cower Edie at all.

  “Well Edie, is that any way to speak to me?” Maggie spluttered.

  Edie raised her eyebrows.

  “Ever since you decided to share your little secret with me I’ve every right to speak to you how I feel. Do you know that Mel woke up this morning worried that she had seen you snogging some bloke last night? So to keep yours and Doug’s precious secret, I lied and said she’d had too much champagne and then spent the last forty-five minutes making sure none of the other hens blabbed.” She took a breath and flexed her hands to release the tension and anger.

  “And then what do I find? That somehow you managed to make an assignation with that man and proceed to make out like a teenager not more than a stone's throw from your daughter. Are you sure you don’t want to tell Mel before the wedding? Because you don’t see to be very cautious about it!”

  Had she really wanted to get Maggie and Doug back together? She had made that promise last night before she remembered all the crap that hormones did to you. They obviously didn’t calm down with age either.

  “Sorry, Edie,” Maggie whispered.

  “You’d better be,” she said.

  �
��Now get back in there, deny everything and then on Monday I want you and Doug in my office first thing. I think it’s time someone had a little chat with you both,” and with that, Edie realised she was taking a step towards being the hippy new age lawyer type that she had accused Jack of being.

  She was going to try and get them back together. It was one step away from calling in the mediator. Or of course it could be a call away from UN peacekeepers instead. Her skin crawled at the thought. All the lessons she’d been taught by Hilary Satis about going in for the kill and not letting emotions get in the way, were going out the window. Edie hoped she never found out. She wasn’t sure she could justify it to her Botox and filler filled face. Even if Hilary couldn’t express disappointment any more, she could make you feel it.

  But this wasn’t about her. This was about getting her brownie points with whatever being was sending her spiritual advisers, so maybe they would forgo the rest of the visits.

  Chapter 10

  Hen dos didn’t leave one rested for the next week especially when the weekend had started with a review of your past mistakes via some unearthly Jerry Springer. It also didn’t help when the hen weekend had included a run-in with the only man she had been attracted to since Tom. And she’d kissed him.

  Oh, and he happened to work with her.

  And not forgetting the crowning glory of the weekend, which was the news that the bride’s parents were divorcing. Topped that off with the bride not knowing and the mother of the bride partaking in some extracurricular activities when she should have been ordering her hat and sorting out the flowers.

  If Maggie acted like that at the hen night, Edie squirmed to think what could happen on the wedding day itself. Maybe she'd try to smuggle that man in, disguised as a waiter. Edie shuddered. Or maybe she'd move onto the ushers…

  Edie sat at her desk early on Monday morning her hair ruthlessly tamed once again, her hands hovering over files. She let her gaze skip over her shorter than usual nails, the thumb nail on her left hand had been bitten to the quick and the polish was picked at. Saturday's manicure was completely wasted.

  Edie wasn’t stressed, no not at all.

  She shuddered when she remembered the drive back yesterday. There was Maggie muttering darkly in the back when she wasn’t coldly ignoring Edie. Mel, oblivious in the front, wittering on about the wedding preparations. Edie was surprised she hadn’t dropped them off at the first service station and left them there to hitch-hike home. And it had only been some quick thinking that had stopped Sophie getting in the car; she’d been angling for a lift back. Luckily Jo had seemed to interpret Edie’s horror and subsequent death glare correctly and managed to usher her into a different car. Maybe Jo should be the maid of honour?

  As a result she was in early to deal with work. Of course she was. Not to avoid meeting Jack in the lift. No, not that.

  She also needed to reorganise her day now that she was about to embark on her very first reconciliation or mediation or whatever it was going to be. She’d get Doug and Maggie back together by Friday if it killed her. She didn’t want to know what the next Ghost had in store for her but the carnage and disruption that was becoming her life couldn’t continue.

  This was a simple reconciliation.

  And doing it in work hours might be a little unethical but Maggie and Doug were insisting they paid for her time. How difficult could it be? Jack Twist was supposed to be an expert in it and she didn’t rate his intellectual prowess. An ex-professional rugby player? Come on, he was one step up from a Neanderthal.

  Edie was still thinking about him when she ushered the sheepish looking Maggie and Doug into the conference room that afternoon. It would be a piece of cake.

  “So Maggie and Doug, thanks for coming in.” Edie lined up the pad on the table and looked up at her new clients. She’d written down a step-by-step plan of how this would happen. If they hit all the steps then they would be sorted by Friday.

  Back together. Loved up. She pressed the point of her pen harder into a full stop.

  “Thanks for seeing us, Edie.” Maggie said.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Doug seemed a little less enthusiastic. But Edie could change that.

  “So, where would you like to start?” Edie asked trying to inject some brightness into her voice.

  There was silence from the other side of the table. Edie noted that Maggie and Doug were avoiding eye contact with each other and her. Doug was staring with a fixed fascination at the oil painting over Edie’s shoulder.

  She didn’t blame him. It was a painting of Hilary Satis and no one could say she wasn’t striking. The painting showed her in all her power dressing glory, shoulder pads reaching for each sides of the frame. The artist had gone for a bit too much realism on her face though; Hilary believed that she should freeze herself at the age of thirty. That was when she had divorced her husband. Botox, fillers and, Edie suspected, a few facelifts had left her with a glossy, unnatural visage.

  Edie knew the eyes followed you round the room. She hoped they wouldn’t be judging her too hard as she went against everything that Hilary had taught her.

  She quickly glanced over her shoulder, yes those eyes were judging her. But then she couldn't help but look at the painting of the pendant that Ms Satis always wore. It was rumoured to be her wedding ring and engagement ring that she had hammered flat with a tyre iron the day she found out he had cheated on her.

  Edie shivered.

  No, she didn’t blame Doug for being mesmerised.

  Maggie was looking at the table and drawing circles on it with her right index finger.

  “OK so how about I start you both off?” Edie said.

  Maggie and Doug nodded whilst still looking at the table and the picture.

  “Maggie, could you maybe explain what it is that you would like to say to Doug?” Edie figured if they could air all their issues they could get on with things. Lance the boil, as it were. It wasn’t as if these two middle-aged people could have anything shocking in their backgrounds. It was probably something so petty that they'd realise it and laugh, then kiss and make up.

  Edie smiled to herself. Piece of cake. She’d be able to face that painting of Ms Satis again.

  “Well, I don’t know. I’m not sure.” Maggie stuttered.

  Doug let out a snort of derision.

  “Doug, was there something you’d like to say?” Edie asked.

  “Yes, Doug. What is it you’d like to say? Because of course everything is about you and your opinion.” Maggie snapped.

  “Oh great, playing the victim again, Maggie? You’re never the one at fault, are you?” Doug said as he turned to Maggie.

  “Ha! Well I’m not the one who has been screwing his secretary and one of the nurses am I?” Maggie retorted.

  Edie could feel her smile slipping.

  What had she done? Maybe she shouldn't have sat them next to each other? It obviously aggravated them both.

  “Well if you didn’t keep brushing me off with excuses like you’re too tired. Too tired from what? Spending my money? And if you do deign to let me do anything you just lie there.”

  “Just lie there? I can’t move because you’ve gained three stone so you’ve got me pinned to the bed. And by the way, every time I said ‘Oooh baby, you’re so big, just like that, oooh yes, you fill me up’ I was lying! You’re average in size. And technique!”

  Edie flinched and wondered whether she shouldn’t have issued protective gear and invited the UN.

  Doug’s come back was equally as cringe worthy.

  “Well everything might be bigger and better if you hadn’t turned into such a stuck up prude. Be a little adventurous. I haven’t had any complaints recently!”

  Edie wanted to slide under the table. No one should have to hear this sort of thing.

  “If I could just ask you…” Edie tried to interrupt, to ask them to make more positive comments about each other, anything to get them off this subject.

  “Complaints? Of course you
don’t get any complaints because they were after your wallet, you great oaf. I found your credit card statements. Most young women will ‘put out,’” Maggie used her fingers as quotation marks, “if you buy them Chanel handbags and take them to fancy restaurants.”

  Doug was beginning to turn purple as he spluttered and tried to think of a comeback.

  He couldn’t have a heart attack before Saturday. Mel would kill her.

  “And I’ll have you know that I haven’t had any complaints recently, either.” Maggie said and Edie watched as Doug puffed up like a blowfish.

  She was going to be the reason Mel’s dad died before the wedding.

  “OK! If we could get back to the plan.” Edie almost screamed to get them to face her.

  They both blinked as if they’d forgotten she was in the room. Edie could feel Hilary’s eyes boring into her back. She could almost hear her voice.

  “Mediation! What use is mediation? Go for the throat and the balls and take ‘em for everything. There’s no such thing as love forever; that is just a panacea for the weak, Edie. It is for the people that don’t know what the real world is like.”

  She looked at Doug’s purple face and Maggie’s white one.

  For a panacea, it certainly seem to hurt a lot to be much of a cure.

  Later that afternoon, Edie was staring down at her desk, stunned. Her mind was tangled and bruised. How she’d managed to make it back to the office from the conference room she still didn't know. One minute she'd been saying horrified goodbyes to Maggie and Doug, she thought she might have organised another meeting as well but couldn’t be sure, and then she was back at her desk. She had no memory of the walk, her brain had been too full of other things. Horrible images. Her hands trembled as she lined up the notepad in front of her to a more pleasing position.

  How did anyone think that reconciliation was a good thing? Curing cancer was a good thing and probably easier than this. Or world peace. She could do that.

  “Edie?” a small voice from the corner piped up.

  “What?” Edie didn’t have the patience to deal with little Miss Homemaker of the year.