“Eve…” Daryl whispered, not wanting Zach to wake up and see Eve with her arms round him; just because he was friends with Zach, it didn’t mean he wasn’t a little bit frightened of him. He didn’t want him to find out about the relationship just yet. “I think I’m gonna have to go now, are you going to be okay?” He hadn’t realised how drunk she’d been getting until they’d got home, and was glad Zach was asleep for that reason.
“Do you have to?” she slurred, and Daryl pulled her out into the hallway, so as not to wake the sleeping couple.
Carrie and Violet glanced over at the two sprawled figures on the sofa, both still fully dressed, with their shoes still on.
“Should we put a blanket over them?”
“Why?”
“In case they get cold?”
“Oh. Okay. Then shall we go to bed? My head’s spinning…”
“Uhuh.” Carrie threw a blanket over the two, making sure it covered them, before tripping over a lamp and giggling softly.
Out in the hallway, Daryl was still trying to persuade Eve to let him go.
“You’re drunk, Evie. I’m coming round tomorrow, I’ll see you then – we’ll sneak off somewhere, go for a walk, okay? But I really think you should get to bed now.” Eve giggled, and kept her arms around Daryl.
“You know what? I’m not sure I can make the stairs,” Eve whispered – loudly. Daryl sighed, but a grin fought its way through. It wasn’t that he wanted to leave; he felt he had to, and knew that Eve really ought to get to bed, to start sleeping off the amount she’d drunk. Not that he’d noticed her drinking an extraordinary amount…maybe she was just a lightweight.
“Am I gonna have to carry you?” he whispered, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms. Eve just laughed, as he began to climb the stairs, carrying her easily.
“I love you Dally,” she added, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.
“You what?” Drunk they both were, but they both realised the enormity of what she’d just said, and they both froze. That was the first time the L word had ever been mentioned…
“I, um, I…” Eve didn’t know what to do. It was the truth, and the second she’d said it, she knew that – but if it wasn’t for him, did she want him to know? Her brain was fuzzy; she couldn’t figure out what the right thing to say was.
“Evangeline Monroe, I will remind you of that when we are both sober,” he informed her, with a small grin, as what she said sank in. He wondered if she’d say the same thing when she hadn’t been drinking…
Laying her gently in her bed – where he guessed she fall asleep pretty much instantaneously – he pulled the duvet over her, and kissed her head gently.
“Just so you know, I love you too.” He didn’t know if her smile was in answer to what he’d said or not, but he left her room with a smile on his face too, passing Violet and Carrie in the hallway.
“Night girls…”
“Night Daryl,” they chorused, falling into their respective beds on the floor.
Chapter Seventeen
January was a flurry of wedding plans for all of the Kingsleys, and Imogen did her best to stay out of the way; it was impossible to be around Millie without the conversation turning to flower arrangements or confetti, which, frankly, got extremely boring after a while. Actually, not even after a while – they were tedious topics of conversation from the very beginning. Still, it was impossible to escape the mixed feelings of stress and happiness that descended over the house, and all of its inhabitants.
The wedding’s colour scheme was blue and so all of the female Kingsleys had been out to buy new dresses in the first week of January. Millie would, of course, be wearing the traditional white wedding dress; William would be in a tux, with a pastel-blue tie. The bridesmaids would all be dressed in a slightly deeper blue – Sara, Ella and Millie’s lifelong best friend Rosa. Then the flower girls were in a deep, royal blue; Dana and Daisy. The rest of the family – not that there were many who weren’t involved in the wedding ceremony, just her, Abby and Rupert (who she assumed had been invited by William – it made no sense for Millie to really want him there) – would also be in varying shades of blue.
Imogen managed to find a dress in a shade of blue that was in between the deep blues of the flower girls and the light shades of the bridesmaids: it was described as ‘oasis’, and complemented Imogen’s dark hair, which would be curled for the occasion. Abby had a cute pastel blue dress, which almost reached the floor on her; Rupert would be wearing a lapis blue waistcoat.
The night before the wedding arrived and, as it was Millie’s first wedding – although it was William’s second – she wanted to do it all properly, and that meant stag and hen parties. Both of them wanted a tame evening; neither was particularly sad to see their single lives leave them, and as they had been living as a married couple for so long as it was, it wasn’t about saying goodbye to being a separate entity. Instead, they both chose to celebrate their lives as they were: Millie with a girly night in, William with an evening at the pub with his best man and some friends, as Millie had said he couldn’t be in the house during her hen night.
Neither stayed up late, and neither got drunk, so it was a perfectly early start the next morning, with no complications. Even Imogen enjoyed the morning’s preparations, as she sat for a good hour having her hair curled by Sara (who turned out to be really good at it) before slipping into her one-shoulder, oasis-coloured dress, that skimmed her knees, and stepping into her lighter blue heels. A knock on the door made her grin; only one of them was bringing anyone outside of the family, and that was her – she was pretty certain as to who would be at the door.
Moving down the stairs as quickly as she could, without destroying her curls, make-up, dress or tripping up in her heels, she made it to the door first. She had never seen Zach in a tux, but was certain he would look amazing in one. She hadn’t exactly been surprised that he’d agreed to accompany her to the wedding, but she’d still been very happy when he had said yes; she didn’t want to have to sit through this day, which would undoubtedly have many dull parts, alone.
Flinging open the door, she was surprised by the two figures that greeted her, rather than the solitary one she’d been expecting. The woman had a willowy figure, with smooth locks of red hair reaching down below her shoulders. It was the same colour, Imogen noted, as Ella’s, although nowhere near the same curly texture. She had a young-looking face, but Imogen guessed by the way she held herself, and the odd tell-tale wrinkle, that this woman was at least fifty. The man beside her was a similar height, with greying hair and a tired look. She tried to place his age but couldn’t, and decided she was better off not making a guess. It seemed she wasn’t very good at age-guessing: she’d thought William to be in his mid forties when she first met him, but had later found out he was only in his late thirties!
“Hello?” Imogen greeted the visitors, with no idea as to who they were. As far as she knew, they weren’t expecting any wedding guests here…they would all presumably go to the church.
“I assume Ella’s in?” the woman asked crisply, looking straight past Imogen into the house behind. Imogen could have sworn she saw a look of disapproval, and tried to think what was behind her, without turning: coats, shoes, kid’s toys…nothing else that she knew of. Perhaps it was the mess.
“Can I ask who wants to know?” she asked with an air of politeness, but an undertone of annoyance: whoever they were, they were getting on her nerves.
“Oh, just get let us in girl, would you? I’m guessing you’re the offspring of my son and that girl he married?”
Confused for a moment, Imogen had to put it all together in her mind. Son – the only man around was William, which must make these…
“Oh! Are you William and Ella’s parents?” she questioned, her curiosity momentarily taking the place of her infuriation at being mistaken for Sara.
“Clearly. And you are?” This woman made no attempt to be polite, and the man just stood silently: for a se
cond, Imogen didn’t reply, quite shocked at how different this couple were from their children. Had she been looking closely, she might have seen that their attitude actually mirrored her own more closely than it did the Kingsley siblings; as it was, she was merely irritated by the way she was being spoken to.
“Imogen. Not William’s daughter, thank you very much.” At that moment, Ella entered the hallway, not seeing the two figures blocked by Imogen.
“Is that Zach, Imogen?” she asked, “invite him in why don’t you; you’ll let all the heat out.”
“Ella, if this silly child would move, perhaps we could come in.” Ella froze at the voice, and Imogen stepped out the way, all-too-willing to allow her to deal with the situation. She didn’t move from the corridor, however – this was too interesting to miss!
“Dad? Mum?” she said, slightly incredulous. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I don’t know, the small matter of our son’s wedding? At least he’s marrying someone more respectable this time – the Hearts have a good reputation you know; Millie’s father is quite something in the business world.” They moved past Imogen; the woman handed her the coat she shrugged off once inside and away from the bitter cold. The man looked at her with a look that could have been considered apologetic, but also looked…bored. Accepting: this was clearly the norm.
Ella’s face was somewhere between shock and horror: yes, they’d sent invites to her parents, but they’d never expected them to actually turn up!
“Oh. Right, well. You’d better…come in then.” Her invite was pointless, as the door was already shut behind them.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Imogen asked, with a small smile and a glint in her eye. This was intriguing: she knew there’d been a rift between Ella, William and their parents – now she was seeing just how different they really were!
“Imogen, these are my parents, Elaine and Aaron Kingsley. This is Imogen. I adopted her back in September.”
“Still taking in waifs and strays then?” Elaine sneered; Imogen scowled; Ella ignored the comment.
“I guess you’d better come and meet the bride then,” she said, coldly. Evidently there was no love lost between her and her mother, but she greeted her father in a far warmer way – a brief hug. The dynamics in this family were hard to work out…
“Ah yes, my daughter-in-law to be.” Both Aaron and Elaine followed her to the staircase: Millie had taken over both her own bedroom and the bathroom to get ready; the younger three children were in Ella’s room, watching a film, in a desperate attempt to avoid them ruining their clothes; and Sara was curling her own hair. Imogen didn’t follow them up, as just then there was another knock on the door. This time she was pretty sure it was the person she wanted it to be.
“You’d better watch out – I think you’re going to upstage the bride in that dress,” Zach greeted her, a smile on his face, looking more handsome in a tux than Imogen had imagined was possible.
She didn’t respond to that comment, but grinned at seeing him – it felt like she hadn’t had the chance to spend time with him in a while, although she’d seen him just two days previously. It seemed like a long time.
“It’s all kicking off here,” she informed him softly, closing the door behind him, and glancing towards the stairs that Ella, Elaine and Aaron had disappeared up. “William and Ella’s parents have turned up – turns out they’re the complete opposite of them, and Ella said something to me once about some sort of rift. Maybe this wedding will be interesting after all!” Zach raised an eyebrow.
“Do you think you could have ended up with a more complicated family if you’d actually consciously decided to? Because I think you’d have a hard time finding one.” The two laughed.
“You’re looking pretty good too, by the way,” Imogen commented, appraising his tux with a smile. “Well done with the tie – fitting into the colour scheme, Millie will be pleased. With the amount of fuss about this wedding, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wearing a blue tie was enough to stop them disapproving of you!”
“Always my aim, of course – to gain the approval of your family.” Imogen grimaced, but took his hand, leading him through to the living room.
“Isn’t it so much more fun when they disapprove though?” she asked with a grin, as she sat him on the sofa. “Now, I have to go make sure everyone’s ready – I’m in charge of the kids until the wedding starts. So, you stay here,” she leaned towards him, kissing his lips gently, before straightening up, “and I’ll be back in a minute. The car arrives in about ten minutes, so hopefully they’ll all be ready.”
Upstairs, last minute stress and nerves were in the air. There were no cold feet, however: the nerves were more to do with what could go wrong, than the actual marriage. Millie wanted to be married to William: she wanted to be Mrs Kingsley, have the same surname as her daughter, and, most of all, to spend the rest of her life with him. People thought she and William were too different; ill-suited. She knew better – he knew her better than she knew herself, and like people said: opposites attract! She loved him, needed him – and he did her. There was a reason she had been so pernickety about this wedding; it meant so much to her.
Thankfully, when Imogen got upstairs, everyone was dressed, with their hair and make-up done. Elaine was getting in the way – Aaron had been left to sit in Ella’s room with the children, and looked very awkward with three chattering girls – and Ella looked annoyed. Millie looked compliant, but not necessarily happy; it seemed that Imogen was interrupting some kind of disagreement.
“It’s traditional for the bride to have something blue, and, what with your colour scheme being blue, this will work perfectly.” Elaine was tying a light blue sash around Millie’s waist.
“Um, okay.” Millie didn’t look overjoyed, but also didn’t want to offend the woman who would be her mother-in-law in a few short hours. Ella, on the other hand, wasn’t bothered about offending Elaine.
“It’s her dress – she should be able to choose what she wears on her wedding day. Besides, we can find something else blue for her – the rest of us are all wearing enough of it.” Elaine didn’t listen, and Sara cut in.
“We’re not following those superstitions. She doesn’t have something old, something new or something borrowed – so there’s no need for her to have something blue.” Clearly her dislike for Elaine overrode her dislike for Millie. Elaine obviously was not all that keen on Sara, or more correctly, her mother – she’d made that much clear when she’d mistaken Imogen for Sara earlier.
“Well, we’ll have to find her those as well then, won’t we.”
“You’d better hurry up – the cars will be here in ten minutes.” Imogen interrupted. “What’s happening with the cars? Who’s riding with who?” Ella turned, looking annoyed, but not with Imogen.
“Millie, Sara and me will be in one – we’re picking up Rosa on the way. Then you, Zach and the kids in the other, if that’s okay with you two – the second car is bigger than the first.”
“Oh, and Aaron and I will have to drive ourselves, I presume?”
“Yes,” Ella replied shortly, turning back to her mother, “That’s what happens when you don’t RSVP.” Elaine and Ella looked annoyed, and for a moment, Imogen could see the resemblance; then it was gone again. Their personalities were so different that it was hard to believe the two were related.
“Right then. The sash is new, borrowed and blue – so you just need something old. Surely you can find something?” Elaine asked, with an exasperated sigh.
“Uh…” Millie struggled to think, but before she had a chance to come up with anything, Sara had disappeared to her room and returned, grabbing a hold of her wrist. An old, thin, blue friendship bracelet was knotted deftly around it, and Sara glanced up to Millie, looking for her opinion.
“Dana and I made it a few years ago – will that do?”
Millie smiled, and Imogen was surprised to see a flicker of real emotion in her eyes. “It’s perfect.”
“Right, no crying Millie – your mascara may be waterproof, but let’s wait until later to test it. The cars will be here, let’s get a move on! We don’t want William to think you’re jilting him.”
Ella managed, somehow, to get the family going, and the wedding party progressed down the stairs carefully. Aaron at the front – desperate to escape the high-pitched children, no doubt – with Elaine, neither of whom looked really part of the group (despite the fact that they were both adhering to the colour scheme). Then came the flower girls, Dana and Daisy, accompanied by Abby and watched over by Imogen, who was joined by Zach as they walked past the living room and out of the front door. Behind them was the bride, looking happy, beautiful and emotional – the traditional, expected look of a bride (Millie certainly like to conform) – her train held up by her bridesmaids. On the surface, everyone was smiling; however much effort was required. Elaine and Aaron had brought a tense, stressed atmosphere with them – something that would surely have to be resolved soon, like a storm brewing overhead. For now, however, that had to be forgotten – the cars were ready, and it was time to go.
Family Portrait (Kingsley Family Trilogy Book 1) Page 15