by Jane Linfoot
No more last-minute lingering snogs. I’ve rubbed my cheek on the stubble of his chin enough times. And yes, it is so blissful, it almost feels like I’m dreaming. The memory imprint should be strong enough to last while I grab a shower and get downstairs for coffee. Where we’ll be ‘accidentally’ meeting up, in approximately forty-five minutes. Ignoring that he’s looking entirely edible lounging on top of the bed wearing only his boxers, I give a cringingly coy little wave and haul the door open. A second later I’m hurtling along the landing back to my own room.
***
Despite my exceptionally ‘waaaaaaahhhh’ hair situation, I manage my turn-around really fast. Aiming to hit Alice’s pre-wedding standards, I slip on a dark-brown silk shift dress of Poppy’s. Once it’s toned down with my favourite black rose-print tights and my second-biggest biker boots I don’t feel a million miles away from myself. As I wander into the ballroom the log fire is already crackling in the fireplace and Hetty’s team are busy behind a serving table. Although the hushed voices and serious lack of breakfast-takers underline that this is very much a ‘morning after’ scenario.
I blink at the amazing array of food on offer as I nod at the waiter. ‘Isn’t this where I got my drinks last night?’
‘Yes, we served the last cocktail and went straight on into breakfasts. It kind of wrong-foots the jet lag and the culture shock.’ The groan he gives before he smiles is entirely understandable. ‘What can I get you?’
Now I’m here, my earlier determination to bolster myself with a full English to last until Christmas Dinner at three is waning. Despite the bacon rashers sizzling under my nose, my hunger pangs have all but disappeared. What’s worse, where there should be a huge hole demanding breakfast, there’s now an anxious fluttering telling me I couldn’t eat a thing. ‘Maybe a mango smoothie. And a coffee, please.’ Hopefully the vitamin and caffeine combo will sort me out. Although, considering the cocktail mix I got stuck into late last night, my head is remarkably clear.
I carry my drinks to a table by the window. From here there’s a view across the snowy garden, but more importantly I can keep an eye on everyone coming in without being obvious. There’s no way I’d have made any progress with a fry-up. Fifteen minutes later, I’ve still only sipped half an inch off the top of my smoothie. What’s more, I’m watching the doorway like – well, like a girl who’s expecting a guy at any moment.
Although I’m also getting twitchy. Not that I’m the kind of girl who makes a habit of getting over-excited about seeing a guy. Apart from that one weekend years ago, but I don’t exactly get a lot of practice at second dates. Or even first ones, come to that. I know our arrangement was fluid. But right now I’m asking myself where the hell Johnny’s got to, because he’s way later than we said. For all I know, he could be one of those guys with a full body maintenance and grooming routine that takes three hours every morning. Let’s face it, when it comes to his personal habits, I’m in the dark.
Ten minutes later when I’m still on my own, in my head I’ve got him sitting with cucumber slices on his eyes, exfoliating and buffing as we speak. So when I see movement by the doorway my heart lurches. But it’s not Johnny, it’s Alice. And the way she’s waving at me, she could be doing semaphore signals on a hillside a mile away, trying to attract my attention across a room when I’m already looking straight at her. As soon as she’s picked up a drink, she comes over.
‘Hello, sweetie.’ Her beam is disgustingly dazzling for this time on this particular morning as she clunks down her tea. ‘You’re up early.’ Coming from someone who’s often up at six, even if it’s only to go and find her colouring book, that’s rich. ‘I couldn’t find my hairbrush in our room, so I popped in to see if I’d left it in yours. I saw your flamingo shorts on the floor, so I knew you’d come down for breakfast.’
If I’m having silent heart attacks, it’s because she so nearly found me out. She’s the kind of ace detective who reads your mind and tracks you down from your abandoned shorts. If she’d turned up earlier to look for that brush, it would have been obvious my bed hadn’t been slept in and she’d be down on me like a ton of bricks. At the very least. As it is, I crumpled the duvet when I came back and the bathroom was full of steam from my shower.
‘So did you find your brush?’
As she shakes her head, her hair does that moving-and-falling-back thing mine was doing yesterday. ‘No, so I went back to ours, looked again, and found it under Dan’s boxers.’ She gives a guilty sigh. ‘It’s a bit of a mess in there.’
‘You’re allowed to leave your clothes on the floor on your wedding night.’ I grin because one pair of boxers hanging loose is enough to cause a diplomatic incident for Alice. Then I hurry on to explain why I’m up, when on previous form I probably shouldn’t be. ‘I came down to grab an orange juice. I needed a vitamin boost after the long day yesterday.’ Note, I’m blaming the long day not the long night.
She’s suddenly staring at me like I’m some kind of exhibit. ‘You’ve got a hangover?’
‘Surprisingly, no.’
Her nod is smug. ‘You’ve got me to thank for that. The cocktails were quarter-strength, so people who drank all day didn’t collapse.’
I’m having a silent OMG moment here. ‘What kind of control-freak waters down the drinks?’
Her expression is inscrutable. ‘A sensible one.’ She squeezes lemon into her tea and takes a sip. ‘Anyway, moving on, you’re looking lovely. Again. Dresses three days running – you’ll be waving good bye to your shorts forever.’
Between us, no one’s looking that great this morning. We both look like we’re in desperate need of a visit from the make-up team. I suppose it’s too much to hope that Alice asked them to come back again today.
‘Somehow I don’t think I’ll be giving up on my shorts.’ Although getting compliments from Alice is something I am getting used to. Wearing dresses hasn’t been half as bad as I expected. Apart from the wind whooshing up my skirts, that is. ‘Still got some on, just not showing them.’ As I flick up my skirt she gets a flash of the kids’ lycra games shorts I grabbed in the mini-market. ‘Imagine the drafts without.’
‘And Johnny saw you up to bed okay?’
Crap. That question sends my stomach into free-fall and re-boots the fluttering. I fix my gaze on a point beyond the ballroom, out in the next room. And although I’m aching for Johnny to appear, if he’s anywhere near, I’m willing him to hang on outside. Just until I get past this part with Alice. I clear my throat. ‘Err – yes. I was one tired bridesmaid. I went out like a proverbial candle blowing in the wind.’ Okay, it’s a catastrophic mix of song lyrics. And it comes out as a squeak. But Alice seems oblivious.
‘Johnny’s great, I really like him.’ Her beam is out of proportion to what she’s discussing. Especially given she doesn’t know I just climbed out of his bed. But maybe ‘ecstatic’ is the new ‘normal’ for a just-married woman wearing a fuchsia Mr and Mrs T-shirt over her white capri pants. I mean, when did Alice ever embrace pink?
I wrack my brain for a suitable reply. ‘Mmmm, he seems cool.’
Alice is playing with her spoon now. ‘I just met him in the hall on my way in.’
I’m about to sip from my glass, but somehow I end up coughing so hard my smoothie lands in a splat across the table. At least there’s so much mess to mop up, Alice entirely fails to pick up my anxiety about Johnny. She thinks this is me being my usual clumsy self.
Predictable as ever, she shoots off for extra serviettes, then comes back and starts dabbing at the bits I’ve missed. ‘Actually he asked me to tell you he was going for a walk on the beach.’
I look up much too sharply, so I have to wait a while to speak. When I eventually get around to one tiny word, it comes out as a croak. ‘Right.’ I can’t think what the hell else to say, because I have no idea what he said to her. Or what’s going on. What’s he doing going to the beach when he was supposed to be coming for breakfast with me? And finally, I get to the right answer. �
�Actually, I really don’t know why he told you to tell me that.’
Her forehead crinkles into a frown. ‘Did he seem alright last night? It’s just when I saw him just now he looked a bit upset.’
‘He was fine when I left him.’ As an answer that’s true, even if it is less than the whole story. ‘Really…’ Damn that I’ve said that because she’s narrowing her eyes and getting all suspicious.
‘What’s wrong, Sera? What aren’t you telling me?’ Talk about penetrating stares. She’ll be getting out the thumb screws any minute.
‘Nothing…’ One more glimpse of her dogged expression tells me I’m losing here. There’s no point fighting. When Alice is like this, I may as well give in. ‘Okay, you’ve got me. Johnny and I weren’t just at uni at the same time, we were actually pretty close. Or I thought we were. Like we drank tea and ate cake. A lot of it.’
‘I see.’ She’s tapping her fingernails on the table in that really annoying way.
Actually she doesn’t see, at all, but she soon will. ‘And we spent last night together…’
‘Oh shit.’
Even though it’s been my lifetime’s ambition to hear Alice say the word ‘shit’, I still wish she hadn’t said it about me. And this. And somehow I need to explain it away. ‘It was a schoolgirl crush that lasted years, that’s all. It was never going to come to anything.’ Most probably never will, given he’s getting the hell out of here as we speak. ‘And I completely messed up our chance of reconnecting again when I threw my phone into the harbour. But that was years ago.’ I watch as she rubs her rings. It’s okay for her. She’s wearing her guarantee of eternal happiness.
‘How did I not see this…’ As she purses her lips her radiance has turned to a perplexed frown and her hand lands on top of mine. ‘You’re still in love with him aren’t you?’
That question has me opening and closing my mouth like a guppy. ‘I don’t know, I’m not sure…’ Except I am. I just never put it into words like that before. But what’s weirder still is there’s no way I could have ever have imagined having this conversation with Alice a week ago.
‘Bloody hell, Sera, it’s obvious you’re in love. And of everyone I know, Johnny could really do with someone amazing to love him. Whatever’s upset him, you can’t just sit here.’
‘I can’t?’ She’s right. I should be heading for the nearest duvet to hide under, and only coming out when it’s New Year and they’ve all gone home. Although where would that get me? If I’d done that every time I felt like it the last few days, this wedding would never have happened. ‘Actually, you’re right. I can’t.’ I spent all those years thinking he hated our weekend, when he didn’t. Whatever’s gone wrong now, I owe it to myself to find out what it is. To see if there’s anything in my power I can do to make things right. Because somehow, possibly for the first time in my life, I suddenly feel like I deserve something good. A piece of happy of my own. It’s as if I put everything on hold for years, and now I’ve got a second chance, I can’t throw it away. I have to fight.
Alice’s fingers close around mine. ‘If it wasn’t for you, we’d never have got married. None of this wonderful Christmas would be happening.’ She glances around the room. Not that there’s anyone here right now, given most people have paced themselves better than us and haven’t got up at stupid o’ clock. But we both know what she’s meaning. ‘I’m completely aware of how much we owe you. Think of this as payback. Come on, get your coat. I’m taking you to the beach to find him. I’m not taking no for an answer.’
52
Sunday, December 25th, Christmas Day
On the beach at St Aidan: Pantomime horses and billowing hems
‘What the hell are you doing on the beach? We’re supposed to be drinking coffee and eating fucking cornflakes.’
Okay, I know. When I planned what I was going to say to Johnny in my head, it was much quieter. Way more polite. Without the swearing. Although my shriek is pretty much wiped out by a wind gust that blasts through at thirty miles an hour. That’s how fast it blows when the white horses scud right across the inky blue of the bay, like they are today. The sand grains get carried on the breeze and blast into your eyes, making them sting like crazy.
I’m a little bit hoarse anyway, because Alice and I sang all the way here, yelling out the Christmas songs like we were in a pantomime-singing competition, where one side of the theatre has to sing louder than the other. Then as she drove along the seafront and we finally spotted Johnny, hunched against the wind, the last thing she said to me before I slammed the car door was, ‘Be calm and be kind.’ So I blew that right away too.
‘This is so screwed up.’ As Johnny yells back at me his hair is standing on end and his cheeks are pale and drawn. A million miles away from the laughing guy I left on the bed less than a couple of hours ago.
‘What’s screwed up?’ I’m just not getting this.
His hands are in his pockets and he’s walking backwards into the wind, facing me. ‘I’m the stupid one, for not bothering to ask.’ As he shakes his head, he stoops, picks up a stone and hurls it down the beach. ‘I just assumed you’d be on your own, like me. More fool me for not finding out first. It’s my mistake. Now I stop to think about it, it’s obvious someone like you would be with someone. I can’t think why I didn’t…’
‘Sorry? What did you say?’ I’m scrunching up my face, because I haven’t got the foggiest idea what he’s talking about. What’s more, I’ve seriously found the limitation of dresses. Battling to keep this mini shift from blowing over my head or taking off like a kite is major hard work. ‘With someone? Why would you think I’m with someone?’ Wherever has he got that idea from?
Johnny stops. ‘The pregnancy test in your bathroom. You forgot your wash bag, I saw it when I dropped it back. I completely understand why you weren’t going to tell me.’
‘Oh fuck…’ Somehow that doesn’t begin to cover it. As I catch up, I take a deep breath. ‘There was a test open in my bathroom?’
He squints at me. ‘You know there was. On the basin. I hated myself for looking, but once I saw it, I couldn’t help it.’
Crap, crap, crap. So much for Alice hunting for a hairbrush. ‘Johnny. Johnny. It wasn’t mine. It isn’t my test.’
‘But it was positive.’
I put my hands over my ears. ‘Waaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh don’t tell me that…’ Too late. Oh my God, Alice. If I’m honest, it’s only what I knew in my heart already. And thank Christmas Alice came round to the idea herself. Even if she has accidentally created mayhem, it’s a bride’s prerogative. And she’s unknowingly gone some way to putting it right. I just hope she realises that after tomorrow, special privileges are over. She’s back to being a normal person. End of.
His face crumples in disbelief. ‘Who else would come into your bathroom to use your pregnancy test?’
If ever there’s a time to roll my eyes, it’s now. ‘It’s a very long story.’ I can’t begin to go into it here. ‘I bought the tests, but I promise I didn’t pee on the stick. I’m definitely not pregnant. Or with anyone else. Okay?’ That should cover most points without blowing Alice’s secret.
‘Really?’ He’s visibly deflating in front of me. It’s as if he daren’t believe what I’m telling him. ‘I’m sorry for rushing off, it was such a shock when I saw it.’
‘I can imagine. It’s a shock for me, just hearing about it. And I’m sure whoever it is will share their news. When they’re ready.’
He’s tugging at his hair. ‘I don’t give a damn who it is. Knowing you aren’t with anyone else is enough for me.’
‘So does that mean breakfast’s back on again, then?’ Because if it does, regardless of the fluttering, right now I feel like I could eat a metaphorical horse. Not one related to Snowball. Obviously.
‘Breakfast?’ He’s blinking, looking like he’s battling shell shock. ‘Now you’re talking. Who’d have thought we’d be needing that?’
53
Sunday, December 25th, Chr
istmas Day
At Brides by the Sea: Coffee and little bit more to say
‘Here we go. Two Christmas morning breakfasts of mince pies and coffee…’
Johnny and I raiding the kitchen at Brides by the Sea was always going to be a better bet than hitting the fridge at my gran’s cottage. Carried up to the studio on a tray, so we don’t have to clear up the crumbs downstairs afterwards. As I set it down on the table by the window, Johnny swings two high stools into place.
‘Festive and warming, what’s not to like? It’s homely up here too. With all the lace snippets and half-made dresses, it reminds me of your room at uni.’ The colour is ebbing back into his cheeks, although he still looks like he was the one who drank his own volume in cocktails rather than me.
I made the coffee strong enough to stand your spoon up in, so my first sip is so bitter it makes me shiver. But it gives me the instantaneous caffeine kick I was hoping for. ‘Except you could fit ten of those bedrooms in here.’
Johnny demolishes his first mince pie in two gulps, then takes another. ‘Coming here gives us space to have that talk I wanted too.’
If my stomach has just perked up, that news deflates it immediately. ‘Given the last chat we had up here, I might do a runner down the beach instead.’
When Johnny rubs his face, it’s so drawn he almost loses his thumb in the hollow under his cheekbone. ‘It’s nothing scary.’ He gives a half-laugh. ‘Thinking I’d lost you yet again, I owe it to you to explain a few things.’
I take a nibble of mince pie and force myself to stay on my stool. ‘Okay…’
He drags in a breath. ‘When you were at uni I’d have given anything to have got together, but you were so set on living abroad and I had Jake. To be a part of his life I had to stay nearby. Which was a million miles away from the globetrotting life you wanted.’ He props his hand on his forehead and looks at me sideways. ‘Back then I was completely crushed by the weight of my responsibilities. However desperate I was to have you in my life, you deserved so much more than I had to offer. In the end I decided I loved you too much to ask you to give up on your dreams.’