My Sister's Wedding: For better or worse, two families are about to become one . . .

by Vicky Pattison

  ‘Oh, that explains it!’ Lizzie exclaims.

  ‘What?’ I’m confused.

  ‘A while ago I overheard him on the phone talking about not having told you something yet and he couldn’t leave right now. He was talking about leaving his job!’

  ‘Something else you didn’t tell me?’ I tease gently.

  Lizzie looks a little embarrassed. ‘In my defence,’ she mumbles, ‘I didn’t have all the details so if I had told you and then you’d found those pictures on his phone, imagine the conclusions you’d have jumped to! So really, I saved you from making things worse! I did you a favour, yep, mm-hmm.’ She looks pretty pleased with herself for getting out of that one so smoothly, so I let it go.

  ‘Have you spoken to him since?’ she says a moment later.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘I’ve been dodging his calls. I believe him when he says nothing went on with Seffy but I can’t stop thinking that if he didn’t involve me in this huge life decision he’s just made, then what else will he leave me out of in the future? Can I marry someone who doesn’t see me as his partner in, well, everything?’

  ‘Now, I try to stay out your two’s relationships,’ Dad says, ‘but Daniel is a great lad. Salt-of-the-earth kind of man. If you think about who raised him and how his sister’s turned out, I think it’s a bloody miracle he’s turned out so decent.’

  ‘Dad’s right,’ Lizzie says. ‘He’s one of the good ones. He just misread a situation. We’ve all done that, haven’t we?’

  Haven’t we just. There’s a ring of truth in what they’re saying but Daniel can’t exclude me like this if we’re going to have a future together. It won’t work.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I need some time to think.’

  ‘All right, love,’ Dad says. ‘Just don’t leave it too long. There’s still a wedding planned, you know?’

  I know. Boy, do I know.

  Dad pulls us towards him and the three of us sit like that for a while, arms around each other. The Ashworths. And I vow, right then and there, that no matter what happens in the future, with Daniel, the press, my job, all of it, I have to remember that they are my priority. They are my home.

  ‘As we’re clearing the air, I’ve got one more confession to make,’ Lizzie pipes up, looking deeply uncomfortable.

  ‘What? Oh, God. What else?’

  Lizzie looks down at her hands. ‘I . . . I don’t really have a job as a dog walker.’

  ‘Huh? But . . . you’ve been sending me pictures of the dogs you’ve been walking!’ I frown. ‘The Polaroid snaps? The Instagram uploads?’

  ‘I just took those pictures in the park. I wasn’t actually walking the dogs. I just told you I had that job because I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me being unemployed for the millionth time.’

  ‘Hang on,’ Dad says, rubbing a hand across his forehead. ‘You mean to tell us you’ve been knocking about parks, stalking random dogs, in order to convince your sister that you’re really a dog walker?’

  Lizzie covers her mouth as a laugh escapes. ‘Yeah, and I didn’t know how to tell you the truth!’

  Dad starts to howl with laughter. ‘You bloody weirdo!’

  ‘Lizzie!’ I cry. ‘But what about the dog you told me shat and peed on your foot? And the dog who you taught to sit down and roll over? And the dog owner who told you that you were the best dog walker she’d ever had?’

  ‘Er . . . yeah, I made that all up. For authenticity. The devil’s in the details, after all,’ Lizzie tells me, her face beetroot red, trying to hold in the laughter.

  This is ridiculous. This is all too ridiculous. And before I can scold Lizzie for telling me even more lies, I find myself laughing too. I laugh like an idiot for the second time on one of the worst days of my life.

  And if I can do that, I can do anything.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Lizzie

  There’s nothing like a massive cry and a big heart-to-heart with your dad and sister to make you feel a million pounds lighter. I wake up the next day, still feeling betrayed (of course) and heartbroken (obvs), but grateful in the knowledge that as long as my dad and sister are around I know I’ll never be alone.

  I tried Tracy’s number another three times last night, just in case. I didn’t know what I’d say if she picked up but I had to try. I didn’t have any luck, though. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. She’s crawled back under whichever rock she’d been hiding, probably counting her piles of cash. I hope it was worth it.

  I also read through all of Justin’s texts and listened to his voicemail messages before I fell asleep. I’m a sad act, I know, but I wanted to hear his voice. I didn’t reply to any of them but the narcissist in me still needed some contact. Yes, I said I’m a sad act. No need to remind me.

  I make my way downstairs to the kitchen and find Jill already in there, pottering about. Did she stay here last night? I try not to let my mind wander to her and Dad doing the full horizontal.

  ‘Morning,’ I say.

  ‘Hello, love,’ she says, smiling. She has a kind face. I like her. ‘I was just about to put the kettle on. Want a cuppa?’

  ‘That would be great, cheers,’ I say. ‘Are the paps still outside?’

  Jill nods. ‘I’m afraid so. Not as many as yesterday but there’s definitely a good bunch of them this morning.’

  I can’t believe the paps followed Bex here. It was one stupid video. Although I have to admit being pretty proud of her when I watched it, standing up to Nicole like that. Good to know my big sis has it in her if the situation requires it. And that situation definitely did. Nicole is the worst human on the face of the earth.

  Jill brews up and we take our mugs into the living room.

  ‘How are you doing, duck?’ she asks with a friendly smile.

  ‘Did Dad tell you what’s been going on?’

  ‘I heard some of it from your sister before you arrived and then your dad told me the rest. Sounds like you girls have been through the ringer.’

  ‘That’s putting it mildly,’ I say.

  ‘Well, I won’t pry,’ Jill says, ‘I know you don’t know me that well, but if you ever need a friendly ear then I’m here.’

  That’s sweet. ‘Thanks, Jill. I’ll keep that in mind. So . . . ’ I hesitate. ‘You and my dad. . . it’s serious?’

  Jill laughs. ‘I’m serious about him and I think he feels the same way about me. When you get to our age there’s no point in wasting time if you meet someone you like, is there?’ The lady has a point. ‘Put it this way. I’m not planning to go anywhere, and I’d really like it if me, you and your sister could be friends. What do you say?’

  I think about it. I’m not looking for a mum replacement at all, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. She obviously cares about Dad and just wants to get to know me and Bex too. Nowt wrong with that. ‘I say yes. Maybe the three of us can sort something out for after the wedding. If there still is a wedding, that is.’

  Jill’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘You think things are that bad between Becky and Daniel?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly. ‘Bex is having a nightmare at the moment. If she’d just talk to him I think they could sort it out, but she won’t even respond to his messages.’

  ‘Maybe you could bash their heads together,’ Jill jokes, ‘that might knock some sense into them.’

  Hmm . . . Jill might be onto something, I think, an idea forming in my mind. Jill is not just a pretty face.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve got you on your own, actually,’ Jill says. ‘It’s your dad’s fiftieth in a few weeks and I was thinking we could throw him a party in London. Nothing too fancy, but he was saying the other day that he doesn’t get to see the two of you enough. I could pretend I’m taking him away for the weekend and we could make it a surprise party. What do you think?’

  ‘Jill,’ I say with a grin. ‘I think that’s a brilliant idea.’ Jill can stay.

  Bex phones in sick to work – I don’t think they were too surprised given
what’s been happening – and both of us stay in Leeds for a while. The paps aren’t moving but they’re not getting anything from us so more fool them. They’re probably missing Amanda Holden eating a muffin somewhere while they waste their time on our front lawn but that’s their problem. We hole up indoors, catching up and munching on Hobnobs and ordering in from the local Chinese. I haven’t spent this much time with Dad and Bex for ages and it feels so good to reconnect. I try to make her talk about Daniel but she keeps changing the subject. I do the same when she wants to talk about Justin so I can’t really blame her. One thing we’re both happy to talk about is Nicole and how we can’t wait for her to get what’s coming to her. I have no idea what that might be but people like that don’t get away with pulling that kind of shit for long. Karma has to catch up with them. I just hope we all have a front row seat when it does happen. And some popcorn. And definitely an Ice Blast.

  Eventually the two of us head reluctantly back to London. Neither of us wants to leave. Dad and Jill drop us off at the station and there’s a funny feeling in my stomach as I watch their happy faces waving us off and I know what Jill said to me is true: she’s not going anywhere.

  I let myself into Jay’s flat and he falls on me immediately, like he’s been waiting for me at the door ever since I left. He jumps up and down, chattering away excitedly like a giant Labrador puppy. Aw, I missed him too. We grab a couple of glasses of wine from the fridge and settle down on the sofa where I proceed to tell him EVERYTHING.

  ‘About Justin,’ he says when the subject comes up, ‘he’s been round every day since you left.’

  ‘He has?’ I ask in surprise.

  ‘Yeah. I wouldn’t even buzz him in at first but he kept coming back so eventually I did and we chatted for a bit . . . ’ he trails off when he sees the look on my face.

  ‘You did what?!’ TRAITOR!

  ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it! I wanted to give him a piece of my mind about the way he treated you.’

  ‘And did you?’ I demand.

  ‘Of course! I yelled at him for ages and the guy, well, he just took it. Eventually I just ran out of steam and offered him some wine. That’s sort of my default setting. That’s when we chatted and—’

  ‘Don’t,’ I say, holding up my hand. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I mean it, Jay. Drop it.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ he says defeated. ‘So what are we going to do about Bex and Daniel?’

  ‘I’m glad you brought that up because I have a plan . . . ’

  It’s the next day and I don’t have to work so I take the opportunity to get my shit together, stop moping around and try to get some stuff sorted. I book Ealing Cricket Club for Dad’s party (Bex was well up for it when we spoke about it on the train back to London), and I start looking up photography courses. Maybe it’s time to get serious about this. I find a couple I like the look of and start filling out the application forms. It might come to nothing or it might come to something, but I have to start somewhere, right? I also confirm my plan with Bex to meet her at Nando’s at 7 p.m. to talk about plans for dad’s birthday. I then arrange to meet Daniel at Nando’s at 7 p.m. too. And I will mysteriously forget to show up. Yes, that’s my great masterplan to get them to talk to each other. And at the crux of it is chicken. It won’t go down in history as one of the great ruses of all time but it will get the job done and that’s all that counts. They need to sort this mess out because they belong together and I really don’t know how I feel about living in a world where they aren’t together. It would be like fish falling out with chips? Or gin not speaking to tonic? In short – it wouldn’t be right.

  All this thought of food and drink has got me hungry and I’m just contemplating whether to go for a cheese toastie or a sausage sandwich for lunch when the doorbell buzzes.

  ‘Hello?’ I ask, picking up the intercom phone.

  ‘Hello?’ says a voice in clipped posh tones. ‘Is Elizabeth Ashworth there?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m Lizzie.’

  ‘Oh, right. Sorry. Lizzie,’ the voice says correcting herself. ‘My name is Persephone Rowley-Sinclair.’

  ‘Right . . . ’ I say, confused.

  ‘Erm . . . you might know me as Seffy. Nicole’s friend. Well, ex-friend now. Can I come in?’

  ‘Oh!’ I say in surprise. ‘Um, OK. Come on up.’

  This should be interesting.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Becky

  I take a deep breath and walk into the lobby of Richmond Books. Apart from one idiot man on the Tube calling me a nutter this morning I’ve managed to get to work relatively unscathed. There were paps waiting for me outside but security has kept them out of the building so I’m safe in here. I think again about how Lizzie felt when this was happening to her. All those eyes on her, judging her when they barely knew her? And all I did was tell her to keep a low profile for a while! What a twat I’ve been. Well, no more. I’ve had my head up my backside these past few weeks and while I’m sad that she didn’t feel like she could turn to me, I’m beginning to understand why. She was going through a hard time herself with no job, no permanent home and everything with Justin. And I wasn’t there for her. No wonder she turned to the first person who showed an interest in what was going on in her life. I’m not going to let her down like that again.

  I’m just getting into the lift to take me up to the fourth floor when my phone rings. It’s Daniel. Again. I turn it off. I’ve been staying at Lauren’s since Lizzie and I got back to London so I still haven’t seen or spoken to him. I know I’m going to have to speak to him at some point, but I’m scared about what’s going to happen when I do. I don’t even know where to start. I’m angry and hurt, but I do still love him. But is love enough?

  I step out of the lift and walk through the office towards my desk. I can hear the mutters and whispers as I walk past. A bubble of mischief rises in my stomach as I think about what Lizzie would do in this situation.

  ‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer!’ I call over my shoulder. They immediately stop talking and I sit down at my desk, feeling satisfied that I have one, albeit small, victory under my belt today. But there’s a bigger challenge ahead and I hope I’ll win that one too.

  I log on to my computer, pull up the files I need, open my notepad and start writing furiously. I have a lot of work to do.

  It’s mid-afternoon before I’m able to get to Hampstead. Toni wasn’t convinced this would work – in fact, she wasn’t convinced that this needed to happen at all, but I wore her down eventually and she agreed to at least let me try. ‘If it doesn’t go your way,’ she had said before I left, ‘then you let it go, OK?’ I’d agreed but I’d walked out of the office with a fire in my belly. That wasn’t going to happen.

  I find the house I’m looking for on the pretty leafy street and knock three times. Darla looks shocked to see me, and more than a little embarrassed, but she recovers well.

  ‘Becky,’ she says with a tight smile. ‘How lovely to see you.’

  ‘You too,’ I say politely. ‘May I come in?’ When she hesitates, I continue with, ‘Trust me. You want to hear what I have to say.’

  She opens the door wider and I step into her house. She fusses about for a few minutes making tea and finding some biscuits. Once we’re settled I begin.

  ‘Before I say anything else, I wanted to say that I’m sorry for letting you down. I know I wasn’t as available to you as I should’ve been. You were having a tough time with the new deadline and I should’ve supported you more. The truth is that I let my personal life get in the way of my work responsibilities and I can only apologise for that.’

  Darla looks at me, at a loss for words. I don’t think she was expecting to me to own up and apologise so frankly. I take her silence as my cue to plough on.

  ‘You’ll have seen what’s in the papers and online,’ I say with a small laugh, trying to pretend I don’t care when the memory still cuts me like a knife. ‘But I
hope that we’ve spent enough time together and you’ve got to know me well enough to realise that it’s all untrue. I did get distracted with wedding planning and all the attention but my sister gave me a good talking to and I’m back to being myself now. And that means being the very best editor I can be.’

  ‘I appreciate your honesty, and your apology,’ Darla says. ‘I do see how it all must have got a bit out of hand. It was just when you didn’t get back to my emails or return my calls I felt a bit, well, deserted.’

  I feel a pang of guilt. ‘I truly am sorry. I can’t promise that I’ll reply to you within seconds from now on but I can promise that I’ll be more prompt about it.’

  ‘That’s nice to hear, but Jane—’

  ‘If you’ll just give me a bit more of your time,’ I interrupt, ‘I hope you’ll see why you and I are the very best fit.’

  Darla nods her head which I take as my cue to go ahead. I start pitching everything I’ve been working on all morning – an editorial schedule with check-in dates so we can address any issues early on, the three-tiered marketing and publicity plan that will allow us to build up momentum from now to publication, potential cover concepts, and the sales strategy for getting bookshops on board. I’m pretty darn pleased with myself to be honest. Not too shabby for a raving lunatic, eh?

  Darla looks a bit overwhelmed when I finish going through everything. ‘Wow,’ she says. ‘That’s a . . . lot to think about.’

  ‘I know I’ve bombarded you with a lot of information,’ I say. ‘I can leave these plans with you so you can go through it all more slowly but it hope it goes to show the kind of thing I have in mind for your next book. But it’s your choice. If you want to stick with Jane I’ll completely understand and there won’t be any bad feeling. But if you’d like to work together again, then I can speak to my boss about making that happen.’