The Best Man

by Dianne Blacklock

  But right now she realised that she had a couple of hours up her sleeve. Her mother wasn’t expecting her for a while yet. She thought about David, recalling the last time she’d seen him. She wanted to let him know that she was still interested. Very interested. No more excuses, no more hesitation. She was ready to give this thing a go. After all, she had her ex’s blessing, what was she waiting for?

  Liv headed straight for the hospital. She wanted to try to park closer to the cardio ward, so she drove right around the opposite side to where Dylan had been admitted. The hospital was huge, Liv had never realised, with numerous buildings covering several blocks. She came across another multi-storey carpark and found a space, then entered the closest building. It was still like finding her way through a maze, but at this time of day there were plenty of people around she could ask for directions. Eventually she arrived at the glassed-in bridge, and she knew her way from there.

  As she approached the nurses’ station, she saw a woman filling out charts.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Liv said.

  ‘Yes, can I help you? Are you looking for a patient?’

  ‘No, not a patient. I was wondering if David Lessing is around today?’

  The woman removed her glasses. ‘You’re a friend of his?’

  ‘Yes, yes I am.’

  ‘Sorry, David’s not on today. He was on night duty last night, so he won’t be in now for a couple of days.’

  ‘Oh, okay, thanks for that.’

  Liv wandered back down the corridor, feeling a little silly. And disappointed. She realised how much she’d been looking forward to seeing him.

  She found her way back to her car and drove off towards home. But as she headed up King Georges Road, she had a thought, and it wouldn’t go away. She pulled over, and brought up the White Pages on her phone. And there he was – D Lessing in Hurstville Grove. She clicked on View Map, and there was his house, literally minutes away from where she was stopped right now. It was so easy to be a stalker these days.

  She pressed Route, and then Start.

  ‘At the next intersection, turn left,’ the robotic voice began.

  And she was off, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Would he think she was crazy? She drove on regardless, following the directions until she heard, ‘In twenty metres, on your right, you have come to your destination.’

  Liv pulled over and stopped the car, cutting the engine. She had parked just short of his house, in case he happened to be looking out the window or something. She still had a chance to make a quick getaway. His house was a neat brick bungalow, and there was a car parked in the drive. That was a very strong indicator that he was there . . . But maybe he was asleep? He’d been on night shift; perhaps he’d come home and gone straight to bed.

  For crying out loud, she was here now, just get it over with.

  Liv got out of the car and walked across the road and up the path to his front door. She took a deep breath and knocked. After a moment she heard footsteps approaching, then the door opened and a young woman was standing there, smiling at her expectantly. She looked just like her father. That was his smile. His blue-grey eyes.

  ‘Scarlett?’ Liv said.

  ‘Yes . . .’ Scarlett looked a little taken aback, not surprisingly. ‘Sorry, do I know you?’

  ‘No, you don’t. I should apologise,’ said Liv. ‘It’s just that you look so much like your father, I assumed –’

  Scarlett’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Are you Liv?’

  Okay, now it was her turn to be surprised. It was one thing for David to talk about his daughter to her, but to talk about her to his daughter . . . She could feel herself blushing.

  ‘Who’s there?’ That was David now, coming into the hallway. Scarlett stepped back from the doorway, and the look on his face when he saw it was her . . . well, it was flattering, to say the least.

  ‘Hello, Liv,’ he said, ambling up to the door. He was wearing a faded grey T-shirt and old jeans. His hair was ruffled, and he had stubble on his chin. Liv knew on the spot that this was a man she could have sex with. Not right now, but one day. Soon.

  ‘So you’ve met Scarlett?’ he was saying.

  She stirred. ‘Yes, briefly.’

  He really did look pleased to see her, and it was giving Liv the flutters. She hadn’t had the flutters in a very long time. And it wasn’t half bad.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’ he asked her.

  ‘No, it’s all right. I can’t stay.’

  ‘Well, it was nice meeting you, Liv,’ Scarlett said, taking the chance to slip away.

  ‘Sorry,’ David said, rubbing his chin, ‘I’m a bit of a scruff. I’ve been on night shift, I only got up a little while ago.’

  ‘It’s fine. You look fine.’ You look fricking great.

  ‘So, what can I do for you?’

  ‘Sorry, this must seem strange.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be.’

  Don’t blush again. ‘Scarlett’s lovely,’ she said, redirecting the conversation.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. ‘I think so.’

  ‘I thought she was in Melbourne?’

  ‘She was, but she’s all done now. She got back a few days ago. This is only temporary, until she finds her own place.’

  Liv nodded. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to keep you. I have to get back, Dylan’s home.’

  ‘How’s he doing?’

  ‘Really well, they discharged him yesterday.’

  ‘I know, I checked,’ he said. ‘Nosy nurse syndrome.’

  She smiled. ‘Anyway, he’s with my mother – you know, the short, scary one you met the other day.’

  ‘She didn’t scare me. She seemed to scare you though.’

  Liv winced. ‘I’m sorry about that. I think I might have been rude to you.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t offended,’ he said. ‘Just a little disappointed.’

  ‘Well, that’s why I dropped by,’ said Liv. ‘I was hoping that maybe we could see each other again?’

  ‘You’re not going to be too busy . . . ?’

  ‘Only until Dylan’s on his feet. But not forever.’

  He gave her a slow nod, and the way he was looking at her was a little unnerving. In a good way.

  ‘I just didn’t want you to give up on me,’ said Liv.

  ‘Oh I had no intention of giving up on you,’ he said plainly.

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘Course not. I’d never waste such a great “how did you meet?” story. People are going to love it, we could dine out on it for ages. I think it’s worth giving this thing a shot, for that reason alone.’

  Liv was grinning. ‘I agree. So I’ll call you as soon as things are back in a routine and I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Great,’ she echoed. They stood there, looking at each other, smiling, until Liv realised she was the one who had to make a move. ‘Well, bye, David.’ She turned and stepped down off the porch.

  ‘Oh, Liv?’

  She turned around again. He had followed her off the porch, and he was right there, close enough to touch.

  ‘Thanks for dropping by.’ He leant in and cupped her face with one hand, giving her a sweet, lingering kiss. Oh, she could definitely have sex with this man.

  He drew back, smiling at her. ‘I’ll look forward to hearing from you.’

  4 pm

  Madeleine had attempted to get on with her work for the remainder of the day, but she kept catching herself staring in a daze at the computer screen, and then wondering how long she must have been sitting there, slack-jawed and bug-eyed, doing absolutely nothing. A couple of times she had a fair idea, because she was roused by the screensaver, flashing and twirling around in its psychedelic pattern. This was getting ridiculous – she had barely done a solid jot of work lately. At this rate she hardly had a right to be criticising Natalie’s performance.

  Her mobile started playing the rumba. Hopefully it was something that would jolt her out of this ennui. She checked the
screen. It was Lucy from Trousseau.

  ‘Hi, Lucy,’ said Madeleine. ‘How’s things?’

  ‘Things are all done,’ Lucy chirped. ‘Your dress awaits you, my dear.’

  Madeleine should have felt excited, but instead she felt as though she’d just been kicked in the guts. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Well, I have had better reactions.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Madeleine. ‘I’m just in the middle of work.’

  ‘Then I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that your wedding dress is all packed up and ready for you to collect.’

  That was about the last thing she felt like doing – it was only going to make her even more depressed. But she couldn’t just leave it; Lucy had been so good to her. And it wasn’t as if Madeleine would have to tell her anything. In fact, it occurred to her that Lucy was probably one of the few people closely involved in the wedding whom she wouldn’t have to cancel on or give an explanation to, thank goodness. So she might as well get this bit over with.

  ‘How late do you stay open, Lucy?’ Madeleine asked. ‘I can come this afternoon, after I leave work.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ll be here for hours yet. I’ll see you when you get here.’

  An oversized white box, wrapped with a silver bow, was resting on the counter when Lucy showed Madeleine into the salon.

  ‘Here it is,’ she announced.

  ‘Oh,’ said Madeleine. ‘I thought it would be hanging up.’

  ‘No.’ Lucy shook her head. ‘It could get damaged too easily in transit that way. It’s all wrapped in acid-free tissue, and arranged carefully inside the box, where it can’t get dirty, or scrape along the pavement, or get caught in car doors.’

  Made sense.

  ‘And when you get home, it’s a lot of fun to unwrap it,’ Lucy enthused. ‘You should hang it up straightaway, though. There’s a silk-padded hanger inside the box, and the dress has loops so that you don’t have to hang it by the sleeves, they’re too delicate. And you must leave it to air – do not cover it in plastic, no matter what. Depending on the humidity levels, it can discolour the silk.’

  ‘Okay then.’

  ‘I packed up the veil as well,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Thank you, that’s sweet,’ said Madeleine, though she knew she wouldn’t be wearing it. She sighed inwardly. She wouldn’t be wearing any of it.

  ‘And your shoes are in their box, inside here.’ Lucy held up a large carry bag.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough, Lucy.’

  ‘It was my pleasure,’ she said. ‘I loved working on your dress, I think it’s really special. I only wish I could see you in it on the day. But that’s the catch-22 of this job – Saturday is my busiest day, so I never get to see my brides. I have to wait for the photos.’

  Madeleine gave her a weak smile. Damn, she would have to tell Lucy eventually. All that work for nothing.

  Lucy carried the box out to the car, and Madeleine opened the back door so she could slide it in across the seat. ‘Drive safe,’ Lucy said. ‘That’s precious cargo you’ve got on board!’

  She waved as Madeleine pulled away from the kerb. It was only a short drive to the flat. She realised when she got there that she wasn’t going to be able to manage the box and the bag with the shoes at the same time. She would have to remember to bring the shoes up later.

  She did manage to swipe herself into the elevator while juggling the box, but she had to put it down on the floor while she unlocked the door to the flat. As the door swung open she had a momentary feeling of dread – what if Aiden was here? Surely he wouldn’t dare show his face; she could not have made it any clearer that she didn’t want to see him. She picked up the box and stepped warily into the flat. ‘Hello?’ she called. But all she could hear was the muffled sound of traffic from the street below. That was a relief. She carried the box into the bedroom and set it down on the bed. The place was immaculate; even the bedding had been changed. At least he’d had the decency to clean up after himself.

  But she wasn’t going to think about Aiden now. Or hopefully ever again. She wondered what she should do about the dress. She wished she could just leave it in the box and not have to think about it, but Lucy had said she had to hang it up to air it, something like that. She’d better do it – she didn’t want to ruin the dress, even if she didn’t know what on earth she was going to do with it. She doubted she was going to want to keep it; it would only make her sad.

  Madeleine went into the bathroom and washed and dried her hands thoroughly. She kicked off her mum’s shoes, and stepped tentatively over to the bed. She pulled on the ribbon around the box, and it unfurled perfectly, just like in a movie. But it wasn’t fun like Lucy said, it was a little heartbreaking. She lifted off the lid and put it aside. The coathanger Lucy had mentioned lay across the top. Madeleine picked it up and placed it on the bed. She moved aside the layers of tissue paper to reveal the bodice of her dress. It was so beautiful. She reached her hand down to touch the delicate beading, her fingers tracing the lines of the H and M entwined around each other at the centre. She leant closer, tears pricking at her eyes, and before she could stop it, a single tear had dropped onto the embroidered letters.

  ‘Oh no . . .’ She grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and tried to blot it up, but it had already soaked in. Perhaps that was appropriate, poetic even. She stepped back, dabbing at her eyes. Calm yourself. She picked up the hanger and hooked it over the door of her wardrobe, then turned back to the dress. Okay, carefully now. She took hold of the bodice under the arms and slowly lifted as it unfolded, shedding more layers of tissue. She held it up high before her, the light from the window catching it so the fabric seemed to shimmer. Madeleine carried the dress to the hanger. She wasn’t to let it hang by the sleeves, Lucy had said. She felt for the silken ribbons, looping her fingers through them and sliding them onto the hanger, over two notches, which were actually tiny rosettes sewn into place for the purpose. Lucy had a remarkable attention to detail. Madeleine drew the sleeves up to hang loosely off the ends of the hanger. There. She stepped back and stood, gazing at it. She saw herself walking up the aisle, hand in hand with her mother. She saw Henry standing at the end, watching her, one of those shy smiles on his face. But she was never going to get to see that in real life.

  Madeleine sighed deeply, and caught sight of herself in the mirror in the pink paisley top. She pulled it off over her head and tossed it aside. As she stood there, gazing at the dress, she started to wonder . . . No, she couldn’t try it on, definitely not. That would be pathetic. But Lucy had put so much work into it, she owed it to her to wear it once, finished. To be able to report – when she had to break it to her that there were no photos, that there had been no wedding – that the dress had fitted perfectly.

  Madeleine was decided. She stripped off and opened her underwear drawer, rummaging around until she came across the bra wrapped in tissue paper, the one she had kept aside especially to wear on her wedding day. She unwrapped the tissue and put it on. She had three pairs of the seamless pants – nothing like being prepared. She slipped on a pair, and walked back over to the dress. She picked up the hanger and turned it around. Oh damn, the buttons, she’d forgotten. Only the top one was fastened, obviously to avoid stretching and pulling at the tiny loops more than was absolutely necessary. They were only meant to be done up once more, on the day of her wedding, when she’d have someone to help. Not when she was alone, trying on the wedding dress she was never going to wear down the aisle, like some sad Miss Havisham figure. Oh God, maybe she shouldn’t bother . . . or maybe she should just get over herself. It’d be all right, she didn’t need to do all the buttons up, she’d get the effect well enough.

  Madeleine undid the top button, being careful not to pull at the loop too much. She slipped the sleeves off the edge of the hanger, and then the ribbons over the rosettes. She lifted the dress from under the arms, as before, and the ribbon loops fell away. Madeleine lowered the dress in front of her so that she could s
tep into it, carefully positioning her feet so she wasn’t standing on the fabric. Then, slowly, she drew it up around herself, until the bodice was in place. But it wasn’t going to stay there without the buttons done up. She gingerly wriggled one arm at a time into the sleeves. Okay, now it was staying up, though it was gaping a little. She twisted her hands back behind her, in various contortions, trying to reach the buttons, but it was no use. She couldn’t do this on her own, she realised, and the realisation, the loss, was suddenly overwhelming.

  ‘Madeleine?’

  She swung around, her heart pounding. Henry was standing in the doorway, watching her.

  ‘Henry,’ she breathed. ‘I didn’t hear you . . .’

  ‘The front door was wide open.’

  She must have been distracted carrying the box and forgot to close it. ‘But what are you doing here?’

  ‘Looking for you, of course. They said you’d already left work, and I thought I’d try here first before I went to your mother’s. I didn’t want to upset her.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Besides,’ he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, ‘Aiden was coming to pick up the rest of his things and I didn’t want to see him, I thought I might do something I’d regret. I already lost it on the phone, but in person . . . He’d probably beat me in a fight, so, better safe . . .’

  Madeleine couldn’t speak. She still didn’t understand what he was doing here. Had he come to have it out with her, once and for all? She didn’t think she could take it, not that she didn’t deserve everything he could throw at her. It was only fair, she had to at least allow him that much.

  ‘Do you want me to do that up for you?’ Henry asked. ‘You looked like you were having some trouble.’

  Why would he want to do that? But Madeleine just nodded, turning around, still unable to speak. Maybe she was in shock? Henry came up behind her. She shivered as she felt his fingers graze the skin on her back when he took hold of the dress. She could see his face above hers in the mirror, frowning in concentration as he fastened one button after the next. Madeleine so loved that face. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that everything was all right, that this was their wedding night, that he was helping her out of the dress, not helping her into it . . .