No One Wants to Be Miss Havisham

by Brigid Coady

  Who was she left with?

  Jack Twist’s face flitted across her mind.

  No.

  But he did ask you for a drink last week, the traitorous voice in her head wheedled.

  Yeah and then on Saturday he’d kissed her and this afternoon he had hauled her over the coals about her work. She would rather face the Ghost.

  Which was worse she thought, facing herself or facing Jack Twist? Either was scary, Jack saw too much and didn’t hesitate to voice his opinion. I’ll have an easier job fooling the Ghost, she thought.

  Chapter 11

  Edie jolted awake and sat up quickly. Through her foggy brain she tried to put her thoughts together. As she sat there, Big Ben tolled one. There was no mistaking it.

  Just one stroke.

  It seemed to reverberate in her ears.

  She was awake and in the nick of time. By some horrible trick of fate she hadn’t sleep through the next visitation. Bloody Jessica Marley was definitely going to pay if she ever saw her again.

  Edie wasn’t going to be taken by surprise again… Oh no. She was taking control of this whole enterprise, no Ghost was sneaking up on her. They would see that no one messed with Edie Dickens.

  It didn’t matter what turned up, be it an extra from Thriller or something from Ghostbusters, she'd be ready. Although she did hope it wasn’t Mr Stay Puft, he’d always given her the heebie jeebies as a child and put her off marshmallows, snowmen and anything in a sailor outfit.

  Her mind was running in circles as she braced herself for anything that might come at her. But she wasn’t braced for nothing.

  The hour had definitely struck, she thought, but there was no Ghost. Nothing.

  She shivered.

  She watched the clock on the bedside table count the minutes past. Five, ten, fifteen, and still she was sans Ghost.

  But although she was sans Ghost, as she told herself with slight hysteria, she wasn’t without was a very sophisticated lighting effect. It was something she had been trying to ignore for the past fifteen minutes.

  Where she sat in the middle of her bed had become centre stage for a bright and warm gold light that streamed from the living room. The longer she sat there the more she thought she might be in the midst of some spontaneous combustion experience but she just hadn’t quite caught up to the combustion bit.

  She wasn’t quite as in control as she thought. Ghosts she was prepared for… Academy Award winning lighting effects she wasn’t. But after fifteen minutes of shivering on her bed she gathered her courage. She was going to check out the living room. Maybe it was just a stray light from the building opposite, or a helicopter with a searchlight.

  “A very silent helicopter,” she said to herself as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Was she really going to voluntarily search out the next Spirit?

  She pushed open the bedroom door.

  Yes, it looked like she was.

  “Edie! You came!” shouted a strange voice in greeting.

  It was definitely her living room, you could tell from the geometry of it but as to the décor… this was no longer the twin of a sophisticated hotel room. In fact the décor would never have been in the same genus never mind the same decorating magazine.

  The walls and ceiling were covered with flowers and trees. There were roses, sweet peas, jasmine, and boughs from willows. It was a fairy bower. The air was redolent with the scent of summer and yet not cloyingly so. Small sparks of light flitted through the branches, fireflies alighting here and there on upturned blossom and blooms. Flowers that never shared a season were pressed cheek to cheek.

  And the floor… Edie blinked.

  Heaped on the floor rising up to form a throne were piles of salmon, chickens, great legs of ham, all manner of meat, suckling pigs and lobsters, vol au vents and hors d’oeuvres heaped on top of each other. Great pyramids of profiteroles, white icing encrusted cakes with bon-bons scattered over everything, cupcakes teetering precariously and rows of magnums of champagne on ice then next to the throne a precarious champagne glass fountain.

  Pop.

  The explosion of the champagne cork made Edie jump.

  There, reclining in state on the throne, was the jolliest, roundest giant of a bridesmaid. In one hand she brandished a jeroboam of champagne that she was pouring, sending the frothy bubbles cascading down the champagne glass fountain. And in the other she held a glowing bouquet of golden roses, the light spilled from them, gilding everything.

  She smiled down at Edie. Her cheeks, red and rosy, lifted so high from her grin that it squeezed her eyes to little slits of sparkling light.

  “Well it took you long enough. I thought I was going to have to finish this whole bottle on my own!” the Ghost said with a belly laugh that sent her rocking on her throne.

  Edie was flabbergasted. She thought she had been ready for anything. She wasn’t ready for this.

  “Have a glass.”

  The Spirit threw her arms open expansively, Edie ducked and cringed expecting the glass fountain to tumble crashing to the floor. She also couldn’t quite meet the spark in the Ghost’s eyes.

  “No? Your loss. I suppose we should get on with the formalities… I’m the Ghost of Weddings Present,” she said. “It would be easier if you had a quick look at me and then we can get on with the rest.”

  Edie realised that the Ghost had the whole Head Girl, jolly hockey sticks vibe going on and she knew better than to try and argue with that sort when they used that tone of voice.

  She looked up at the Spirit. She, Edie decided calling her a she was probably the best idea; there was a lush femininity about her as well as a sturdy practicality.

  She was dressed in a simple silk forest green bridesmaid dress. It had an empire line and a cream sash. Her ample bosom swelled from the bodice and threatened to escape. The satiny whiteness of her skin glowed with health.

  The dress fell in folds to her feet; which were bare of anything except for the dark red nail polish on her toenails and a cheeky toe ring with a bell on it, which adorned the second toe of her right foot.

  On her bouncing chestnut curls that were cut in a bob, she wore a beautiful wreath of flowers. Every one of the flowers and plants from the fairy bower were represented. And here and there between the flitting sparks of light from the fireflies, there was the lazy fluttering of the wings of iridescent butterflies nestled within the wreath.

  Brides everywhere would have killed for that wreath.

  “Bet you’ve never seen anything like me before have you?” the Ghost exclaimed, her eyes smiling. They were kind, but very keen.

  “I don’t believe I have,” Edie croaked out.

  “Hmmm. Well that’s a pity because my sisters and brothers are always out and about this time of year. Ah well,” she huffed and then bracing her hands on her knees got up off the feast of a throne.

  Edie’s back stiffened. This was it. She lifted her chin as if she were on her way to the noose. She could do this and she was learning her lesson, wasn’t she?

  “OK, I’m ready. Last week I’ll admit I was a bit stubborn but this week, anything you think I need to know just tell me. Anything you think I should be doing, let me know. I'm up for this,” Edie rushed out her words. “I could make notes?” she ended hopefully.

  “Hold on to my sash,” the Spirit instructed ignoring her.

  Edie reached a trembling hand for the silk and clung on tightly.

  Roses, jasmine, sweet pea, sunflowers, lobsters, profiteroles, cupcakes, champagne fountains, they all disappeared in the blink of an eye. They were no longer in Edie’s living room.

  Instead they were standing with their backs against a wall. It was a familiar wall, in a familiar flat.

  “This is Mel’s flat,” she said.

  There was laughter and talking coming from the kitchen dining room.

  The Ghost led her towards the door. Edie hung back. Did she really want to see this?

  Peering round the corner, she took in the scene. The
re were empty bottles and used plates on the table, and four people were sitting relaxed in their chairs, drinking wine.

  Mel, Barry, a little blonde woman and a man with his back to her, though his blond curls looked familiar. He turned to smile intimately at the small woman next to him and lifted his hand to hold the back of her neck.

  Tom.

  Edie’s insides moved what felt like one foot to the left and her knees one foot to the right. She grabbed the doorjamb. She could feel the ghost of Tom’s hand on the nape of her neck.

  “Any gossip and stories I need to know before the big day?” the woman was asking.

  “What sort of gossip and stories?” Mel laughed.

  “Oh you know, which bridesmaid has got off with which of the ushers. That sort of soap opera thing.”

  The laughter faded as Mel and Barry held their breath and looked at Tom worriedly.

  “Oh don’t worry about that! Kitty knows that Edie is going to be there,” said Tom laughing.

  Mel and Barry breathed out.

  “Oh good. There isn’t going to be a problem with that, is there?” Mel asked,

  So Mel was worried that she would upset Tom and Kitty? What about her, Edie? Didn’t anyone care what she thought?

  “Oh no!” Tom squeezed the back of Kitty’s neck again. “Kitty knows all about the Ice Queen. Don’t you, sweetie?”

  They all giggled at Tom’s description.

  “Oh Tom it isn’t nice to talk about your ex like that! I’d hate to think what you’d call me if we broke up,” she leaned into him with her hand on his knee.

  “I am going to be sick.” Edie said. “Ice Queen? How dare he? How dare they?”

  “They can’t hear you,” the Ghost looked at her pityingly.

  “We’re not going to break up are we, Kitten?” Tom positively purred down at her.

  Edie wanted to vomit as they rubbed noses. They were grown-ups and they were acting like besotted teenagers with the IQ of gnats. At least he didn’t call her Shug, a traitorous voice told her.

  “But I do want to know what Edie’s like. Will you tell me, Mel?” Kitty asked.

  Edie butted in. “Oh that’s great. You come in here having taken the love of my life and now you want my best friend to spill the beans on me… you tell her, Mel! You tell her!”

  Mel squirmed in her seat. There was a moment of silence.

  “Come on Mel, say something,” Edie said, willing her best friend to open her mouth and say what a great person she was.

  “You have to have known Edie a long time to see her the right way,” Mel began. She had her face bowed and was picking at a mark on the tablecloth.

  “You can do better than that,” Edie said.

  “Oh don’t start with the whole no one understands her guff!” Barry interrupted. “She is a cold, hard and calculating bitch!”

  Edie’s mouth dropped open.

  Barry thought… he… but…

  “Oh Barry, I’ll admit she isn’t the warmest person in the world but she is to me.” Mel said slapping Barry lightly on the wrist.

  “A light slap? I’d punch him in the face if someone said that about you.” Edie was furious.

  “You see I’ve known her most of my life and when we were teenagers she was the warmest funniest person I knew, and she adored Tom.”

  Tom squirmed in his seat.

  “Yes, you squirm, you smarmy git!”

  “But then it all changed,” Mel said.

  Silence fell.

  “What changed?” Kitty asked breathlessly.

  “Her father left,” Tom said.

  "And that was when Edie started to build the wall around her." Mel continued. "She adored her dad. But when he left, he left. He never came back. Her mum told Edie he didn’t want to see her. I’m not sure I believe that, but the damage was done. And then that lawyer, Hilary Satis, got her hooks in Edie and after that…” Mel made a motion with her fingers across her throat as if that was it.

  Edie saw it and then stared at her nails, picked at her cuticles and willed her burning eyes to stay dry.

  “Parents get divorced every day. That doesn’t turn their children into the machine she is,” Barry said.

  “That’s a bit harsh,” Tom said.

  “OK maybe I judged you badly, maybe you aren’t such a smarmy git!” Edie said her heart lightening.

  “She’s more iceberg than machine.” Tom laughed.

  Edie tried to smack him on the back of his head, only for her hand to go right through it.

  “You've been told,” the Ghost said taking a swig of champagne, “You can’t touch them.”

  But their words could touch her. She wasn’t an iceberg, or a machine.

  “Don’t be nasty,” Mel chided him. “I remember her twenty-first birthday; she was waiting and waiting for something from her Dad. A visit, a present, even just a card but then nothing came. I think that was the last time I saw her cry."

  Edie could feel the tears on her cheeks. She felt raw and exposed.

  "He never came," she whispered.

  “Oh and she was very upset when you broke up with her.” Mel looked over at Tom and raised a glass.

  “And then…” Edie encouraged Mel but she didn’t say anything else.

  That was all Mel could say? Why wasn’t she leaping over the table wielding her steak knife? Why was she marrying a man who hated her best friend so much?

  “Upset? She had me out of the flat before I could finish my sentence. And then she sent me a detailed breakdown on a spreadsheet of who owned what, and how much we each owed the other. Down to the last penny,” Tom shook his head. “Cold hard facts were all she dealt with,” he said. “When I got that spreadsheet all the doubts I had about leaving, all the doubts about whether I had done the right thing, the urge I had to go back and ask to start again faded away.”

  “He had doubts?” Edie whispered.

  Why hadn’t she known? If he had wanted to come back, she would have had let him. Wouldn’t she?

  When he had gone, she had shut down, gone into automatic, sorted out everything that needed doing. She didn’t want to be left with nothing, the same as her mother. She didn’t want to be left with another hole in her life she couldn’t fill. She wanted to be strong, she wanted to be Hilary Satis, she’d thought.

  “Don’t let the bastards see you cry,” she whispered.

  “But still you’ve got to admit she’s done very well for herself,” Mel said.

  “Yeah but being on track for partnership in a law firm and a reputation as a shark doesn’t keep you warm at night,” Tom countered.

  “I feel sorry for her,” Kitty piped up.

  Pity? She didn’t want pity. Especially from some undersized pixie.

  “Yeah, I know,” sighed Mel.

  “Pity?” Edie’s voice squeaked.

  Mel pitied her?

  “Ouch. That’s gotta hurt,” said the Spirit. “And she’s your best friend, huh?”

  “She called tonight to see if I wanted to go out. She sounded desperate. I get the feeling I’m the only friend she has. I felt awful but I couldn’t have invited her here with you two, could I?”

  “I wish you hadn’t invited her to our wedding. And made her your maid of honour,” Barry complained. “It’ll be like the spectre of your relationship at the party. But at least that girl Jessica isn’t around any more. The two of them were always together at weddings, sneering at everything. They were only missing a third and it would have been the witches from Macbeth!”

  “Invite that bitch, Satis and you’d have had your witches.” Tom said and they all burst out laughing.

  “I don’t need to hear any more,” Edie said.

  “I have to say that Barry really doesn’t like you, does he?” The Ghost gestured towards the giggling foursome round the table with the bottle in her hand.

  Edie couldn’t reply. She’d never really thought about Barry before. He was an annoying hindrance that she put up with because he came with Mel.
/>   “I’ve never been awful to him,” she eventually said.

  Not awful. Dismissive and contemptuous when she bothered to think about him… yes.

  “Ah. Not awful but not nice either, then?”

  No, not nice, not nice at all.

  “I think we’re done here, as it is.” The Ghost shook the bottle and held it to her eye. “And we’re out of bubbles. First a refill and then on to the next stop. Hold on!”

  Edie snatched for the sash and found herself squashed in the corner of a limo full of drunken women. Glitter, feathers and bubbles were everywhere.

  “Ah, this is the life!” The Spirit said as she grabbed a bottle of champagne from the large bucket in the middle of the car and launched into an ear-deafening rendition of We Are Family along with the rest of the women in the car.

  Edie watched the girls around her, their faces flushed from alcohol, eyes shining with happiness, their arms spread wide as they waved out the open windows to strangers they passed. No one would call these girls the Ice Queen, or a shark or a machine.

  Something in her yearned to join them.

  “You could do it,” the Ghost said.

  “No. Look at them making fools of themselves,” Edie said.

  “Yup, complete tits and they are having the time of their lives.” The Ghost smiled widely. “Well if you aren’t going to, can you just hold this?”

  She handed Edie the bottle.

  The Ghost manoeuvred herself onto her knees then stuck her head out of the open roof and waved her arms around, still singing loudly. She looked as if she were the centre of a bouquet of shining, happy women.

  What on earth was she doing?

  Edie cringed in the corner, waiting for someone to start noticing them. But they didn’t. Much like it had been with the first Ghost, people didn’t notice them; they would move out of the way so as not to touch them.

  And waving out of the sunroof of a limo did look like a great idea. If these girls couldn’t see her, then no one could. No one would know.

  She put the bottle down and tentatively she crouched beside the Ghost and then stood up to put her shoulders through the opening.

  The wind rushed through her hair and caught at her breath. Their limo was white and seemed, to Edie, to stretch forever. It was touring round Trafalgar Square.