Barry and Aimee stared at them, horrified. ‘I thought she was wearing a dress? For heaven’s sake, Aimee, could you not have kept an eye on them! Look at the state of them, they look like they’re going to a bloody disco,’ Barry fumed as he caught a glimpse of his daughter’s generous cleavage.
‘Oh, don’t annoy me. Why didn’t you keep an eye on them? I was working to help pay for this damned wedding, don’t forget,’ flamed Aimee, saying the first thing that came into her head.
‘Excuse me, that’s totally uncalled for!’ exclaimed Connie, not sure if she’d heard right. ‘We don’t need your money, Aimee. Or your attitude.’
‘For crying out loud, Aimee, what a thing to say. That’s the height of bad manners.’ Barry was aghast.
‘Deal with it,’ retorted his wife before stalking into the church alone, incandescent that he had chastised her in front of Connie and Debbie.
Connie stared at Barry, furious. ‘She’s stepping way over the line, Barry,’ she said tightly. ‘I don’t want her money. How dare she say a thing like that? We need to talk about this later—’
‘Take no notice, please, Connie,’ pleaded Barry, thinking all his worst nightmares had come together. ‘I’m paying for the wedding out of my salary. I—’
‘Hi, are we late? Sorryyeee,’ Melissa trilled, having paid the taxi driver. She deliberately avoided her father’s eye. ‘Debbie, you look wicked.’ She gazed at her half-sister in awe. ‘I love the top – it’s just like you described it.’
Her praise was genuine and Debbie, who had been standing, horrified at Aimee’s parting remark, managed a smile.
‘Thanks, Melissa. I’m glad you like it.’ She gave her a little wink. ‘Love your gear,’ she whispered as she leaned over and gave her a kiss.
Melissa blushed with pleasure. She knew her parents were mad with her but Debbie understood, and it was her wedding, after all.
‘Girls, go in and get a seat, we need to get moving,’ Connie suggested, trying to act normal. She was hopping mad with Aimee. Just what did she think – that she and Debbie were paupers?
‘Hiya, Connie,’ Melissa smiled, oblivious. ‘Sorry for being late.’
‘No problem, I’ll talk to you later.’ Connie smiled at her, amused, in spite of herself, at the thirteen-year-old’s attempts to walk in her high heels. ‘Go on in,’ she repeated, shooing them in with her hands.
Barry was furious, his face mottled red. He was hugely embarrassed. ‘Sorry about all that,’ he muttered. ‘Take no notice.’
‘It’s a bit much, Dad,’ Debbie protested heatedly. ‘I don’t want to feel under a compliment to Aimee.’
‘You’re not,’ he insisted. ‘I’m telling you now, I’m paying for your wedding out of my salary, it has nothing to do with Aimee.’
‘Well, why did she say that?’ Connie demanded, affronted. She wanted to smack the other woman hard across her Botoxed face. She’d succeeded in ruining her day with her smart, insulting comment.
‘Look, I don’t know why. I think the . . . the misunderstanding with Gwen upset her and she just lashed out at me . . .’ He trailed off miserably. ‘I suppose you don’t want me to walk up with you now,’ he said to Debbie. ‘And I don’t blame you. This has been a horrible start to your wedding and I’m terribly sorry.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Debbie said flatly, her high well and truly evaporated.
‘Forget it, Barry, these things happen. It’s over. Let’s concentrate on the matter in hand.’ Connie took control, feeling sorry for her ex. He looked deflated and dejected, and she knew he was humiliated by his wife’s uncalled for and unnecessary barb. What a bitch she was for belittling him in front of them. ‘You OK and ready to go, Debbs?’
‘Yep,’ Debbie said stoutly. She couldn’t believe what had happened. That woman had really laid into Aimee and let her know what she thought of her. Good enough for the stuck-up bitch, she thought privately but she felt sorry for her dad, who looked very put out. It was mean of Aimee to make a show of him in public and she felt almost protective of him, which surprised her. She could be as much of a bitch as Aimee and tell Barry she’d walk up the aisle with her mother, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him with her. How amazing was that, she thought, pleasantly surprised by her reaction. Maybe Aimee had done her a favour with her spiteful taunt. Right now she felt closer to Barry than she had ever felt in all her adult life. ‘Come on, Dad. It will be practice for when you’re walking Melissa up the aisle,’ she said kindly, taking his arm.
‘Sorry about all of this, Debbie. I don’t know what it’s all about,’ he said sombrely.
‘It doesn’t matter. All that matters right now is that you and Mum are going to walk me up that aisle to Bryan, and then we’re going to have the greatest hooly ever,’ she encouraged, squeezing his arm.
He smiled down at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said firmly. ‘This is your day and nothing’s going to spoil it.’
‘Exactly,’ agreed Connie, smiling at him as she took her daughter’s other arm and, with Jenna bringing up the rear, the trio walked slowly up the aisle of University Church, accompanied by a haunting violin solo of the Wedding March, to where Bryan was waiting for his bride at the altar.
Aimee stood, back rigid, as the bride and her parents made their way up the aisle. Melissa and Sarah were at the other side of the church, well away from her wrath. Melissa might think she’d got away with this little exploit, but she was sadly mistaken. When she got her on her own she was going to go through her for a short cut and tear strips off her.
Aimee was so angry she was ready to detonate. How dare Barry make a show of her in front of those three by chastising her about Melissa’s clothes? True she’d got her own back by sending her cheap shot across his bow – and it was a cheap shot, she conceded, but he damn well deserved it. It was bad enough that Gwen had decided to throw a hissy fit in front of an audience because her ego was bruised, without her own husband adding to her abject mortification.
How could he betray her? Because that’s what it was, a betrayal. Turning on her in front of his first wife and daughter. Had he no loyalty? The trio glided past looking like they’d been friends for ever and playing the happy-family card to the hilt, even though Debbie and he had been at each other’s throats for years. As soon as Barry came down to sit beside her she would tell him she was going home. She was damned if she was going to take part in the rest of this sickeningly hypocritical charade.
It could have been one of his proudest moments; instead, Barry felt inadequate and a wimp. He’d finally made his peace with his eldest daughter and had been looking forward to his role as father of the bride, and Aimee had pulled the rug from under him and disgraced him in front of his ex-wife and daughter. What a thing to say, he reflected, as he walked past his wife at the edge of a pew, her face averted from them, staring straight ahead like an ice queen.
What a disaster the day had turned into. They could have brushed the spat with Gwen under the carpet, he supposed. And maybe he shouldn’t have confronted his wife about Melissa’s unsuitable clothing, causing her to fling her slighting remark. He knew where she was coming from when she’d said it, but it was the fact that she’d belittled him in front of Connie and Debbie that was so upsetting. Had she no loyalty towards him? he wondered as he noted his ex-mother-in-law giving him a polar stare.
Get over it, busybody, he thought dismissively, smiling sweetly at her.
You slept with Connie – where were your loyalties? a little voice said.
That was different, he argued with himself. Aimee didn’t know about it. You didn’t humiliate her in front of her family.
You betrayed her all the same. Barry gave his head a little shake. Such thoughts to be having while walking his daughter up the aisle. Connie was right: he should concentrate on the matter in hand, if he was to get through the rest of the day.
She wasn’t going to let Aimee get away with it, Connie decided as she caught a glimpse of the other woman standing alone at
the edge of a seat near the back of the church. Who did she think she was, causing scenes and bad feeling at Debbie’s wedding? She had some nerve. Her hand tightened around Debbie’s, and she felt her daughter squeeze back.
Everything had been going too well. It had been such a lovely, almost relaxed morning in the house with Barry. And then the good-humoured trip into town and the possibility of a new nursing post had been the icing on the cake. She’d felt the day was going swimmingly until Aimee and her enraged friend had had their unedifying brawl on the steps of the church.
And then, to cap that, the complete and utter arrogance and insensitivity of her to claim that she was working to pay for Debbie’s wedding. That had been lower than low. She wouldn’t cause a scene today but she would let Aimee Davenport know that her behaviour was totally unacceptable, Connie vowed, smiling at Karen, who was looking at the progression of the three of them with surprised delight.
Bryan felt a frisson of excitement as the notes of the Wedding March wafted through the church and the congregation turned to watch Debbie’s advance up the aisle. He saw with a start that Barry was on one side, and Connie on the other. What an unbelievable sight, he thought, proud of his fiancée that she’d overcome her almost lifelong antipathy towards her father to allow him to walk her up the aisle.
Connie looked very well, he thought magnanimously, watching his mother-in-law-to-be smile to someone in the congregation. But it was Debbie who stole the scene. Glowing, radiant in her ivory wedding dress, joy shone from her eyes, and he began to realize that her happiness was now very much his responsibility. Up until now they had had escape routes if neither of them were happy with the way their relationship was going. It would be difficult to flee from now on, should things take a bad turn. Don’t think like that on your wedding day, Bryan chastised himself, wishing that the thought hadn’t pricked its way into his consciousness just as he was about to wed.
Bryan looked a dish in his new suit, Debbie thought and her face split into a massive grin as he turned to look at her. Suddenly all the hassles of the last few minutes and the stresses and strains of the past few months faded into oblivion as Barry placed her hand in her future husband’s and his hand closed over hers in a comforting clasp.
‘Look after her,’ her father instructed the younger man, kissing her on the cheek.
‘I will indeed,’ Bryan said, still amazed that Barry had been included in the walk up the aisle. ‘Well done. You look gorgeous,’ he whispered as he drew Debbie to him and kissed her.
‘Be happy, the both of you,’ Connie said as she relinquished her daughter to his care.
‘We will, Mum, and thanks for everything,’ Debbie assured her. Connie kissed her tenderly and they shared a look of mutual love before she stepped away, tears brimming in her eyes.
‘Don’t cry, Connie,’ Barry comforted as she made for her seat, overcome. She hoped with all her might that Bryan was the right husband for her daughter and, at that moment, she felt more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.
Barry’s heart went out to his ex-wife. He could imagine how hard it was for her as he led her to her seat. A sudden dilemma presented itself. Should he leave her sitting alone and go down and join Aimee? He’d noted that she, too, was on her own, the girls having scarpered to the other side of the church, no doubt not wishing to have her fury inflicted on them.
The memory of her spiteful remark came back to him and, on the spur of the moment, he followed Connie into the seat and knelt down beside her. She looked startled. It had obviously just dawned on her that he’d chosen to kneel beside her for their daughter’s wedding rather than leave her alone and go and sit with Aimee.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured gratefully. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘No problem. I wouldn’t leave you on your own on a day like this,’ he whispered back as the priest began the ceremony to join Debbie and Bryan in holy matrimony.
Aimee could not believe her eyes. Barry had joined Connie in the front seat and left her to sit alone in the church in a wedding she did not want to be at and had only attended because he wished it. He was deliberately snubbing her. Her own husband was making her feel as unworthy, and as second rate, as her father ever had.
Well, no one snubbed Aimee Davenport these days, and no one ever put her in second place.
As everyone knelt to hear the priest begin the ceremony, Aimee stood up and stalked out of the church. This was one wedding she had no intention of wasting her precious time on and, when Barry and Melissa got home, she would be making her feelings felt in a manner that would leave them in no doubt as to just how angry she was. If Barry Adams was so concerned about his first wife, maybe it was time he went back to her, Aimee thought viciously as the doors of the church closed behind her and she emerged blinking into the sunlight.
Where was her mother going? Melissa wondered as she heard the staccato tap-tap of her shoes fade away. Maybe she’d got a call from work; there was always some sort of emergency these days. She hadn’t really wanted to come to the wedding anyway, so she wouldn’t be too disappointed, Melissa thought, feeling quite relieved that something had called Aimee away. She wouldn’t have to face her temper imminently, and with any luck she’d be asleep by the time they got home tonight because she was never able to keep her eyes open these nights, she worked so hard. Things were working out very well, Melissa smiled happily as she scanned the seats in front of her and saw a very satisfying amount of dishy fine things.
Stella’s lips thinned as she noted her detested son-in-law kneel shoulder to shoulder with Connie, just ahead of her in the front seat. What a hypocrite he was. And she’d seen that wife of his with her dress halfway up her legs as though she was a teenager. As tarty as they come, no modesty and no class at all, thought Stella as the sound of high heels clattering along the aisle made her turn around. Where was that one going making such a racket? she wondered, seeing Aimee disappear through the doors. And why was Barry kneeling beside Connie as if they were still man and wife?
Her eyes lit up. Maybe the fool had come to his senses and realized who his real wife was. Maybe this wedding was a blessing in disguise and at long last things could be the way they were always meant to be.
‘I do,’ said Debbie, and her heart was overflowing with happiness as Bryan slid the ring on her finger, where it rested as though it had been there for ever.
‘I do,’ said Bryan a few moments later and felt the slightest bit trapped as his wife slid the round gold band along his finger.
‘Let’s hope they live happy ever after,’ Barry said as he clasped Connie’s hand in his and they watched their daughter kiss her new husband with enthusiasm.
‘Is there such a thing?’ Connie arched an eyebrow at him.
‘Yes, I think there is. And I think there’s such a thing as a second chance,’ he said slowly, as family and friends burst into a round of applause around them.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Judith heaved a sigh of relief as she came off the M50 at the Blanchardstown roundabout and took the N3 to Cavan. The traffic had crawled along due to a traffic accident and she was running late. It was good to be able to put her foot down on the accelerator and finally feel the miles fly by. A dull headache throbbed at her temples and her neck and shoulders felt stiff and tense. She drove with grim determination, cursing as she got slowed down again in Dunboyne with more heavy traffic dawdling at a snail’s pace. By the time she got to the hotel, she’d be so tense all the massaging in the world wouldn’t be able to help her, she thought irritably as she eventually got through the village and the traffic opened out again.
The day she’d been so looking forward to had been thoroughly spoilt, and all because she’d let her temper get the better of her. She’d completely lost it with her mother – and over something relatively trivial, which shouldn’t have led to such a blow-up. Judith bit her lip as she overtook a black Audi at speed. She’d lost control, no doubt about it, and although it felt good at the time, she was beginning to feel
very ashamed.
She shouldn’t have said those things to Lily, even though, at one level, they were true. That outburst had been stored up inside for years. Silently bubbling and simmering, never far from the surface and, today, the flash point had been reached. Her mother’s long-suffering-martyr act had finally been too much to endure and it didn’t help that Judith had been teetering on the brink of erupting all week, thanks to a combination of irritation with the Debbie Adams carry-on and crucifying PMT.
Why couldn’t her sister have made an effort for once in her life? she thought in frustration. If Cecily had only turned up on time none of this would have happened. Judith would have been halfway to the hotel now, and the anticipation of a day of pampering and a night of leisurely eating, drinking and chatting with her friend would have lifted her spirits the further she got away from Dublin. The interlude would have refreshed her, kept her going for another while. But that chance of rest and relaxation had evaporated. Now all she’d be thinking about was the look of shock and dismay on her mother’s face when Judith had lost her head and ranted and raved at her like a madwoman.
‘Oh Ma, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said what I said,’ she muttered as tears welled up in her eyes and guilt smote her. She blinked hard, the misting tears blurring her vision. Great sobs shook her body as pent-up grief, frustration and misery erupted out of her and she cried with abandon, not caring who saw her.
She was driving around a narrow bend when she heard a sharp bang and the steering wheel juddered in her hand, pulling to the left as a blow-out in a rear tyre caused the car to shake violently. She saw she was heading for a tree in the ditch and for a split second she knew she could wrench the wheel to the right and avoid it.
What’s the point? I’d be better off dead, she thought in utter desolation as the car hit the solid, unyielding trunk.
‘Dad,’ Judith called out as the car crumpled around her and darkness enveloped her.
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