No One Wants to Be Miss Havisham

by Brigid Coady

“I was just going to say I think it’s a wonderful thing that you’re doing for your friend’s parents,” Rachel said.

  “Wonderful?” Edie’s voice held a touch of hysteria. “I have just spent the past hour trying to keep two normally sensible middle-aged people from throwing furniture at each other! And the stories…” she shuddered. “There are some things you really don’t need to know about your friend’s parents.”

  “Really bad?” Rachel asked.

  Edie cringed as she remembered.

  Her stomach churned. She had thought the wedding was going to be tough before. How the hell would she be able to keep it, and them, together now? And how could she ever look at them again?

  “Oh yes, Rachel. Really very bad,” Edie said.

  And they still hadn’t reached any sort of consensus about how they were going to attend the same wedding and how they could keep the split from Mel. The hour had ended with both howling threats at each other and Edie cringing in the corner. If they couldn’t be civil for an hour together sober, who knew what sort of trouble they would both kick up at the reception with the addition of alcohol.

  And Edie had to do this with them all over again tomorrow. They were all on a fast track programme to either reconciliation or hell. But she would do this, because she never let anyone stop her from being the best…and she’d do anything to put off Friday’s ghostly visit.

  Edie wondered if anyone would notice if she slumped against the wall of the corridor. It would be uncharacteristic for her to be anything but poised and perfect, but even she had a breaking point.

  She stood beside the closed conference room door and leant her body very slightly against the wall and hoped no one would walk past. She shut her eyes and tried to relax, letting the wall take her weight.

  “Everything alright?”

  Ah yes, the person she had managed to avoid for almost an entire week would find her right now.

  “Everything is just peachy,” she lied as she quickly pushed herself upright and opened her eyes to see Jack staring down at her, frowning.

  And to underline her lie was the sound of a book being thrown at the wall of the conference room. Edie flinched and hoped they hadn’t knocked Hilary Satis off the wall.

  There then followed a roar of rage and some muffled shouting.

  “Yes, I have everything under control,” she said.

  In my dreams.

  “Edie, it sounds like people are killing each other in there,” said Jack.

  “One can but hope,” she whispered.

  It was Friday and even with a meeting every day this week, the bloody Remingtons were in an even worse state. Edie could only be thankful in terms of her blushes that their insults had moved on from sex. On Tuesday they had focused on Doug being a workaholic and Maggie being a ‘parasitic lay about’. Wednesday had focused on Doug’s numerous affairs, which were blamed on Maggie’s lack of interest in his life. Thursday’s highlights were Maggie’s over protectiveness as a mother and her inability to let Mel, grow up which was countered with Doug’s absences as a father and complete lack of interest in his child’s life. Which brought them neatly to today. Friday. Which was a wonderful mélange of the four previous days, peppered with even more spicy revelations about their respective love life.

  She’d had to get out. She’d slipped out the door while they were shouting at each other, she’d refused to meet Ms Satis’s accusing gaze.

  “Are you really going to leave them in there unsupervised?” Jack asked.

  Edie looked up at him through gritty, tired eyes. She hadn't slept for more than a few hours each night. She woke up in the middle of nightmares about glitter and Doug wearing fairy wings while he shouted at Maggie who was wearing a wedding dress. Or nightmares where she was banging on a glass wall as she watched Jack walk away from her, the cerise lining of his pinstriped suit glowing like a beacon.

  He wasn't wearing his suit jacket, which she was thankful for because if he had been she might have lost it right then and there. As it was he was in his shirtsleeves, the blue and white checked shirt rolled up and his forearms, firm with muscle and sprinkled with hair, called to her. What she wouldn’t give to fall into someone’s arms, his arms, and just cry from sheer frustration and tiredness.

  He looked solid, dependable and gorgeous.

  He wouldn’t have clients remove the need for divorce by conveniently killing each other.

  “Hey, I’ve tried to reason with them, I’ve tried to get them to listen but all they do is shout back at me or ignore me,” she said.

  “When you say reason with them, would that be your usual reasoning? I.e. it’s your way or the highway?” he asked.

  “I’ll have you know that my way was the most logical, sensible way. It was the way that was fair and would get them to realise they should get back together in the shortest possible time,” she answered.

  Damn it, why did she say that?

  “‘Get back together?’ Edie, mediation is all about compromise and sometimes the best way to part. If you don’t know that, how the hell can they?”

  Jack thrust his hands through his hair.

  “OK. I’m going in and sorting this out before someone calls security.”

  His hand went to the doorknob.

  “And don’t you dare come in until I tell you. You seem to have done enough damage already.”

  And with that he went in and shut the door.

  The roars subsided until there was silence.

  Then Jack’s voice rumbled but too indistinctly for Edie to understand. She moved to the door and, quickly taking a look up and down the corridor to check no one was around, pressed her ear to it.

  Still nothing.

  A rumble from Jack, a lighter rumble which was Doug and then a twitter from Maggie. More Jack rumbles, Doug then Maggie. How on earth had he done that? Every time she had tried to get them calmed down they boiled over.

  The door was pulled open quickly, surprising Edie. She jumped back, her cheeks hot.

  “Well Mr and Mrs Remington…” Jack said as he frowned down at Edie.

  “Please call me Maggie,” Maggie positively simpered up at Jack.

  “And it’s Doug,” Doug put his hand out.

  “Doug, Maggie,” Jack shook their hands.

  “Now I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll take it from there, OK?”

  “OK,” they chorused, beaming at Jack and then turning that beam on Edie.

  “Oh Edie thank you for recommending Jack here!” Maggie chirped, “A great choice, he seems so familiar."

  Well of course he does you silly old bat, Edie thought, he was the one who dragged you away from your conquest on Saturday night. But the words stayed in her mind battering against her forehead while she turned the sides of her mouth up in a facsimile of a smile.

  “Edie. You never told me you worked with Jack Twist. Capital rugby player, it was a sad day when he retired.” Doug boomed. "And he's a friend of Barry's so he'll be at the wedding. Can't wait to tell the boys at the club."

  Oh yes a sad day indeed, she thought. Instead of tackling other men on muddy fields he was here ambushing her at every turn.

  “Edie, if I could have a moment?” Jack asked, gesturing her into the meeting room.

  Edie watched as the Remingtons, in sudden accord, bustled their way to the lift. After wishing for most of the afternoon to be elsewhere, suddenly her only wish was to join them.

  “Edie?” Jack said.

  She turned her back on the Remingtons and went back into the conference room. She walked to the table and gripped the back of the chair hard.

  Jack closed the door and came to her left and stood at the head of the table.

  “What are you playing at Edie?” he said.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” she said playing for time.

  “You know exactly what I mean. In no way, shape or form are you qualified or experienced enough to be dealing with people like that.”

  “You have no idea what I am e
xperienced enough in,” she said. Jack raised one eyebrow and Edie blushed. “And you definitely don’t have the right to speak to me like that. I am a senior associate in this firm.”

  “I don’t care what seniority you have when you are doing work you are clearly not qualified to do.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this,” she could feel the anger rise and it warred with frustration because she knew he was right. She wasn’t qualified to do any sort of mediation. She was only good at confrontation. She was good at breaking things and then sweeping up the pieces to make it tidy.

  “Yes, you do. Mucking around like that could get this firm embroiled in a nasty lawsuit and then you can kiss partnership goodbye.”

  He moved so he loomed over her. His face darkened, his brows drew together and the lips she kissed at the weekend thinned to a straight line.

  He was furious.

  And he looked gorgeous.

  At the moment and for the first time in years, becoming partner didn’t mean anything. Only two things meant anything.

  Jack.

  And getting rid of the ghostly guides determined to point out her faults.

  “I… well…” Edie stumbled.

  Jack’s face relaxed, his lips curved up wryly.

  “Look, I’m sure you had the best intentions. Your best friend’s parents and all, I know you just want the wedding to go smoothly,” he said.

  The wedding? What wedding? She thought. She stared blankly at Jack for a few seconds, with the word 'wedding' crawling round her brain trying to make contact with another word or idea. She shook her head when it made contact with the idea of herself and Jack… and in shaking her head the word finally made contact with Mel. Mel’s wedding. That was what he was referring to.

  “Mel’s wedding? Smooth? After the hen weekend from hell? And you did just hear her parents in here yelling blue murder didn’t you? Smoothly! What a joke. You think I want this to go smoothly? I’d rather it didn’t happen at all. What kind of person voluntarily shackles themselves to another? You’ve seen what happens? It’s all hearts and flowers until BOOM! Someone’s hormones take over and they’re screwing their secretary or the nurse or the next-door neighbour. No, I think weddings are an abomination. The only good thing about them is the divorces they eventually lead to that pay my salary.”

  Edie’s chest heaved from the shouting as her stomach sank. Everything she had ever thought about weddings and marriage was now out in the open, laid bare for Jack to see. All the good intentions she had made this week were gone. She was definitely getting haunted tonight.

  Jack blinked down at her.

  He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. He frowned and opened his mouth again. He looked down at her, puzzled.

  “If that’s what you really believe, I feel very sorry for you,” he said.

  “Sorry? I don’t need your pity,” she said as she walked towards him, the index finger of her right hand pointing at him, jabbing the air to make her point. She came right up flush with him and tipped her head to keep eye contact as she poked her finger into his chest.

  “And I don’t need your help!”

  “It must be a cold and empty bed you lie in every night,” he sounded sad.

  Emotion welled up in her, choking her, constricting her breathing, stopping her from talking.

  She shook her head vehemently, denying it and then attempted to make a sound to deny it.

  “No,” she croaked.

  Backing away from him, she needed to get out, eventually finding the door handle by touch. She looked up to see Hilary staring at her; Edie had never noticed the smug twist to her lips before.

  “No,” she whispered to them both as she opened the door and fled.

  Maybe if she didn’t go home this evening, the Ghost wouldn’t find her. She could stay out all night. Or maybe not sleep and then carry on the way she always had. She sat at her desk, her mind whirring as she looked for ways to stop that night's visit from happening.

  OK, she had failed in her first task this week, which was to get the Remingtons back together… and yes it burned. Never let anyone stop you from being the best you can be, she thought and flinched when she realised she hadn’t. But the ghosts didn’t have to know that. Maybe she could claim credit if Jack got them sorted out? She had introduced them, so that could count in her favour.

  Edie pulled a piece of paper on her desk towards her. She would make up a credit and a debit column and mark down what good things she had done this week that should be part of her spiritual balance.

  Credit:

  Got Maggie and Doug in for mediation. Tick.

  Debit:

  Made them argue more. Cross.

  Credit:

  Introduced them to Jack. Tick.

  Debit:

  Managed to spill exactly what she thought of marriage to Jack. Cross.

  Credit:

  She chewed on the end of the pen and then tapped it on the desk. What else had she done this week?

  Oh, she had saved all those women at the hen party from making huge mistakes. Definite tick.

  Debit:

  The whole hen party was pretty pissed off with her for playing goody two-shoes and then copping off with Jack. Cross.

  It looked like she had come out about even… a definite haunting tonight then. She sighed.

  Unless she could do what she had first thought… stay out. To not be caught.

  Go on the lam.

  Picking up her mobile, she dialled Mel.

  “Mel, hi! Fancy a night out on the town?” She forced brightness into her voice. Surely Mel would want to see her and talk wedding stuff. And if that was what it took then Edie would pay the price.

  “Erm… well… I’m sorry we’ve got wedding stuff to do, that’s right, wedding stuff,” there was an awkward silence.

  Edie then heard furious a whispering between Mel and Barry on the end of the phone. She could hear some words “Not enough space and they don't like - mumble mumble - and we've got - mumble mumble - coming.”

  Then Mel came back on the phone.

  “Sorry Edie we’ve got all this wedding stuff to do. What about tomorrow night after the dress fittings? We can all go out again. A mini hen night. I know Jo and Sophie would be up for it.” Mel sounded happy and relieved with the solution.

  A sharp pain hit Edie in her chest. Wedding stuff, sure. There was something going on and she obviously wasn’t invited to it. Well that was OK because she didn’t fancy being somewhere she wasn't wanted…

  But it hurt, it hurt much more than she expected. She called up every piece she had in her arsenal of coolness and rang off without making definitely plans for Saturday night. She wasn’t sure she could handle a repeat of last weekend even if it didn’t include Jack Twist. Especially if it didn’t include Jack Twist, the little voice whispered. She pushed it away.

  Who else could she call?

  There was no one.

  Not one other person in the world that she could call up to go out for a drink. Not one other person that she had social contact with.

  Edie sat at her desk, stunned. How had she let that happen? Where was the social butterfly she had been at uni? Where were all the people she used to hang out with when she first got to London?

  Probably all paired off and settled down in domestic drudgery, she lied to herself. But she knew she had lost touch with them all before that.

  When she first came to London she'd had it all, a great job, a fantastic boyfriend and great friends. Every weekend there had been parties and then there were always those 'quick drinks' after work that had turned into getting home in the early hours. Then they'd all get up the next morning and go into work.

  Then it had all got out of whack. Being good at your job and having ambition wasn’t wrong; it was just that it took priority, as it should. She couldn’t go out on the lash every night of the week and still perform at the level that was expected. So she'd started to really only have a quick drink, and then she
'd stopped turning up at all.

  And maybe she didn't have go to every party.

  Then when Tom had gone… she had shut down so she didn’t have to feel the gaping hole beside her and see the pitying looks. Then it was as if all her friends had gone too. Oh, they might have tried to get her out but she knew, what use was going out and being with people? They let you down. Hilary Satis had been right. The one thing that didn’t let you down was work. She hadn’t pushed them away, they had just left, like everybody did.

  She shied away from the truth, all the times she cancelled nights out and her last minute let downs. She tried to forget that they had phoned her and phoned her until they gave up when she never returned their calls. Until she wasn’t even a name on their Christmas card lists.

  Edie shook these thoughts out of her head… all this introspection wasn’t getting her nearer escaping her flat for the night. Hiding from the Ghost.

  “Rachel,” Edie said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the office since her conversation with Mel.

  She looked across at her trainee. Why didn’t she do something about that long stringy hair? She was always trying to hide behind it; she was doing it now as if she didn’t want to make eye contact with the world.

  “Rachel, I was wondering whether you were up for a girl’s night tonight?” Edie tried to inject a chumminess and girls’ together camaraderie into her voice; she cringed inside when it came out Head Girl-ish.

  Rachel stared up through her curtain of hair, mouth wide open.

  The silence stretched.

  Edie could feel a blush begin on her chest and slowly move up her neck. Is this what she had been reduced to? Begging for company from someone she neither cared for nor respected?

  “Well?” she said.

  “I… well… we… and…” Rachel said.

  “Spit it out,” Edie said.

  “Well Rob and I are… and Timmy… DVD… night in… all planned,” she managed to stutter out.

  Edie filled in the blanks. The Domestic Goddess was being domestic; what a surprise.

  “Another time, maybe?” Rachel said.

  Edie snorted and slapped another file onto the desk.

  So that was it. Even Rachel had something to do on a Friday night.