‘There was no proposal, not really,’ Tom said, uncomfortably, clearly dreading completing his story. ‘We were out, on yet another crazy big night out. I hadn’t even wanted to go. I was exhausted, I wanted to sleep, but Charisma always went to town when she had a night off from dancing, dragging me up and down the Strip. I don’t know how we ended up in the lap-dancing club. I don’t remember much of it except that we were talking to the barman, Charisma seemed to know him somehow, and then suddenly she’s telling me how he used to be an Elvis impersonator. How he’s still licensed to perform marriages and that we should get married, right there and then. None of it was real, it was like a joke, a dream, if anything. Suddenly Charisma has some flowers from off the bar in her hand and the barman gave us a pull from a can for the ring. We were stood on tables, and everyone was cheering and laughing and we were married. It didn’t seem real. I never really thought it was real. I swear to you, Anna. I thought it was just a joke.’
‘Not even when you signed the certificate?’ Liv asked him.
Tom shrugged. ‘I don’t even remember signing it. I think the only reason I took it when I left was as a souvenir, a memory of that time of my life. I almost wish I hadn’t. I almost wish I’d just left it at her place, and then none of this would have happened. I’d have forgotten all about it and you’d have …’
‘Ended up married to a bigamist,’ Anna said, bitterly. ‘What could be more perfect?’
‘Anna, look. Martha’s going to help me sort it, it will be fine.’
‘And then what?’ Anna asked him sharply. ‘What happened next in your first marriage?’
‘And then … and then we woke up the next day and went to work. I don’t think we even talked about it. I think less than two weeks went by before we got bored. She got bored of me, and I got bored of waking up every day with a hangover. When I finally phoned home, and heard how worried and upset my mum was, well, that was the first time the real world crashed in and I realised that I’d been stuck in a fantasy, where nothing was real.’
‘Except for Charisma’s tits, by all accounts,’ Martha joked crassly.
‘Martha, you’re supposed to be helping me,’ Tom said, angry.
‘Sorry, darling,’ Martha said, pinching her lips together like a naughty schoolgirl attempting to stifle a giggle.
‘So.’ Anna paused for a long moment, not at all sure that she wanted to know any more. ‘How did it end?’
‘It went downhill from the wedding, actually. We continued living together, going to work for a couple of weeks because, well, because I think we were both a bit embarrassed that the magic had worn off quite so quickly, it was like we couldn’t look at each other even. It was almost like someone had told a terrible joke and we were the punchline. And then one Sunday morning I woke up and she’d left a note stuck in the mirror frame. It said she was off to New York to try and make a go of it as a proper actress. She’d always wanted to be on stage, before the money in Vegas sidetracked her. She said that she was glad that she’d met me because I’d reminded her what was really important in life.’ Tom smiled vaguely. ‘I remember not being exactly sure how to take that, after all did she mean being married to me reminded her to go and have a proper career? Anyway, there was no forwarding address, no number, no nothing. At the end she’d written “Goodbye and good luck, Tom, be happy.” And kissed it, so that she left an imprint of her lipstick on it – Firecracker Red, that’s what she always wore.’ Tom adjusted his expression of fond remembrance, perhaps just a little too late, as he became aware of Anna’s expression. ‘She was gone for good and, to be honest, I was relieved. She’d done what I had been unsure how to and ended it. I never thought about the marriage, the certificate. I never thought it could possibly be real in the real world, in the UK. No one is more surprised than me to find out that it is.’
Anna nodded, tapping her teaspoon against the tabletop three times as she absorbed the story of her fiancé’s first marriage. Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, she looked at Martha.
‘What next then, an annulment? It will all be done before the twenty-fourth though, won’t it? It will be easy won’t it? A formality. A technicality. A signature and a stamp and it’s done, right?’
Liv sat up in her chair, surprised by Anna’s response. ‘You mean you want to go ahead with the wedding, after finding this out now, Anna? Don’t you need at least a little time …’
‘No,’ Anna said, quite calmly, her face set like marble. ‘I mean, yes, yes, I want to go ahead with the wedding, and no, I don’t need time. This happened eight years ago. It’s not like Tom’s cheated on me, or gone behind my back. Yes, it would have been nice if Tom had thought to mention it to me before now, but it doesn’t change him, or me, or us. Or the fact that we plan to get married. All the arrangements are in place. We just need to iron out this one little glitch and then we can get back on track and put it all behind us.’
‘I agree, and that’s why I’m meeting Martha here today,’ Tom said, with some relief, finally able to take Anna’s limp hand in his, oblivious to the turmoil raging under the surface of her bone-china complexion. ‘To find this out. To sort it out, so that you and I can get married, just like we planned. Just like I want to.’
‘I’m afraid it’s not going to be quite that easy, darling,’ Martha said, wincing with more relish than regret.
‘What do you mean?’ Tom asked her. ‘You said you’d sort it.’
‘I know, and I will.’ Martha smiled. ‘But it’s going to take a lot longer than a week to get you out of this mess, sweetie. Look, I’m sorry, guys, I really am, but you have to face up to the facts. Your fairy-tale Christmas wedding? It’s off.’
Chapter Three
Liv peered through the inch-wide gap in the door for about the tenth time in fifteen minutes. Anna was still sitting on the edge of her bed, her palms flat on the immaculately made bed, staring at the wall, which was where she had been since they’d gotten in through the door an hour ago. Anxiously, Liv paced up and down the hall, uncertain of what to do next. What were the usual steps when one’s best friend found out that her fiancé (who one was secretly in love with) was still married to a long lost Vegas showgirl? There wasn’t exactly anyone that Liv could ask, and she didn’t think NHS Direct would have much to offer. Reluctantly, she took her phone out of her bag and called the only person in the world that she could think of, and who was very much a last resort. Liv called her mother.
‘Goodness,’ was the first thing Angela Walker had to say, when, sitting on the bottom of the stairs just outside the flat’s front door, Liv relayed the whole sorry sordid tale to her. ‘That is a pickle, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Mum,’ Liv said, admiring her mother’s unerring talent for understatement. Like when her elder brother Simon had declared at the age of fourteen that he was gay, and Liv’s mum had looked him in the eye and said, ‘Well, you’re going to need new shoes, for starters.’ ‘It is a bit of a pickle.’
‘Poor Anna,’ Angela said, thoughtfully. ‘That Tom seems so nice too, exactly the sort of young man you need in your life – have you had any, by the way? Young men? Anything at all on the horizon, any interest, slightest sniff, passing glance?’
‘Yes, Mum.’ Liv sighed heavily. ‘Yes, because what I really need in my life right now is a man who is secretly married to a stripper.’
‘I think it might be your hair, you know,’ Angela went on regardless. ‘I think if you grew your hair just a little bit you’d look so much more womanly, unless of course you don’t want to look womanly, and that’s fine too. No need to hide in the closet with me and your father, darling. We are excellent parents to gays, just ask Simon and Greg – Greg thinks of me as his second mother you know. Ooh, you should ask Greg about your hair, he said light gold highlights for me and it’s taken years off—’
‘Mum,’ Liv interrupted her firmly. ‘Please can we just stick to Anna. She’s completely distraught, like I’ve never seen before, not even when we were ki
ds and everything that happened with her mum was still new. It’s like she’s catatonic, sitting there staring at the wall. You know how important her plan is to her, how she goes haywire if things go off schedule. And this is her wedding, her Christmas wedding. She’s been planning it since we were ten, before probably. I think she’s completely lost it and I don’t know what to do with her. Slap her? Pour cold water over her, maybe?’
‘I could be wrong,’ Angela said, slowly, ‘but I think that’s what they prescribe for mating dogs that can’t be parted. That or a sharp stick up the bum. Now, let me get this straight, the wedding isn’t completely off, it’s just postponed while Tom gets someone to track this stripper down?’
‘Yes, well try to at least,’ Liv said, trying to remember exactly what Martha had told them earlier that afternoon, clearly relishing every terrible moment. ‘According to that dreadful Martha woman, UK law states that because Tom hasn’t seen or heard from her for more than five years he can divorce her without her consent, but he has to show a judge that he’s tried to find her and with a reasonable amount of effort and time, which isn’t looking her up on Facebook or Twitter, which she isn’t on, anyway, not under her last known name, Tom says. Even under Nevada law, where he could get the marriage annulled without her signature, the law still requires him to do a due diligence search for her, which takes at least six weeks. And the wedding is only a week away. The only way he could get everything sorted in time would be to take the papers to her and get her to sign them in person, which he can’t do because …’
‘He doesn’t know where the slapper is,’ Angela finished for her, adding sadly, ‘What a pickle. Poor Anna, I bet she’s in a state. She hasn’t called me.’
‘I’m so worried about her, Mum,’ Liv said. ‘You remember, when she first came to stay with us, that first Christmas? When she was still so quiet from living in the care home, still missing her mum, even after what she did to her. Remember, how she sat there with that little pinched white face, while we all pulled crackers around her and showered her with presents she didn’t want, because all she wanted was her mum? Remember how I begged you to take her in for the holidays because she was just so … broken? And what started out as a two-week stay ended up as for good, you and Dad jumping through hoops to be approved as foster carers, everything we went through to see her finally rebuild herself, fragment by fragment?’
‘I do remember,’ Angela said fondly. ‘And I’ve never been more proud of you, putting a girl you barely knew before yourself at Christmas time and taking her in so willingly as your sister. And I’ve never regretted it for a moment. Anna is as dear to me as you and Simon, if only she felt like she was part of our family, as if she could lean on me and your father. All these years and she still says “thank you for having me” after she’s been for a visit, like she’s just a guest and not our daughter.’
It was true, although Liv, Simon and her parents had taken Anna into their hearts, it was always Anna who remained slightly apart from her foster family, even to this day, as if she expected them to reject her at any moment if she put a foot wrong.
‘The thing is,’ Liv said.‘The thing is, that little pale girl at the Christmas table, that’s what she looks like now, Mum, only worse. Back then I could always make her laugh. Now she looks like the world’s crumbled away from beneath her feet. And it has in a way; all Anna has ever had is her life plan. And suddenly that’s all gone wrong. I don’t know what to do, Mum. It’s even worse than the Regina Clarkson incident.’
‘Right, I’m coming down,’ Angela said.
‘No, no, don’t come. There’s nothing you can do, I just … I don’t know what to say to her.’
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone while Angela thought.
‘The thing is, this is Anna. I’ve looked after her since she was nine years old and I know that no matter how much you want to make things right for her she won’t let you. Her independence has been her survival tool, it’s what’s kept her together. We need to let her do what she has to do and be there for her when she needs us. I know it’s hard for you to stand by … My little Olivia, always wanting to fix things, always bringing in strays and wounded animals, taking care of everyone but herself … and her womanly needs. But Anna is a grown woman, in a very grown-up relationship, and this really, as dreadful as it is, is between her and Tom. This is, after all, their life we are talking about, not yours.’
Liv said nothing for a moment, surprised that her mother was not only making sense, but actually being perceptive. Of course this wasn’t up to her; of course she wasn’t going to be able to fix it – the real question was why she thought she could? She’d been so wrapped up in Anna and Tom for the last year, so involved in their romance that perhaps she’d started to feel a little bit like it was hers, wished it was even. But it wasn’t, far from it. Tom wasn’t hers, and never would be, and, at the end of the day when all was said and done, neither was Anna.
‘Christ, I seriously need to get a life,’ Liv said, with mild horror.
‘I have been saying that for a while, darling, and also laid. I can’t help thinking you’d have a much more laid-back personality if you had more sex,’ Angela reminded her gently. ‘Now, Mrs Henderson who runs our Rock Choir, she’s got ever such a lovely son, he’s got a bit of a wonky eye, but if you squint he looks just like Hugh Grant …’
‘Bye, Mum,’ Liv said hastily before Angela resumed her normal service of unremitting psychological torture reserved only for her natural-born daughter. ‘Thanks, and love you!’
Liv started as she hung up and found Anna in the doorway, staring at her like an apparition, her complexion matching her trademark pale clothes, the stark hall lighting casting strange shadows on her face.
‘I know what I’m going to do,’ Anna said perfectly calmly. ‘It’s fine. It’s simple really. I’ll go to America, find Charisma and get her to sign the papers, and then the marriage can be dissolved and I can still get married on Christmas Eve.’
Liv opened her mouth, and then closed it again, for the first time in her life truly speechless.
‘It’s simple,’ Anna continued, her colour gradually returning with her strength of purpose. ‘I’ve had a look, I can get on the ten o’clock out of Heathrow, but I’ll have to leave soon. Will you come with me in the cab, I’ll pay, I just don’t want to go on my own.’
‘Um, but, the thing is … what about Tom? Have you talked to Tom?’ Liv asked her. ‘Told him what you are doing? Surely this is something you need to discuss with him? Shouldn’t he be sorting out his own mess?’
Right on cue the doorbell went, and Anna and Liv stared at each other. They didn’t even have to look at the figure that loomed behind the stained glass window to know that it was Tom.
‘I’m not talking to him,’ Anna said, holding the palm of her hand up against the door, as if she could keep it closed with sheer force of will. ‘He’s not coming in!’
‘Anna, you have to talk to him!’ Liv was confused and exasperated. ‘You’re planning to fly halfway round the world because you want to marry him, why on earth wouldn’t you talk to him?’
‘Because … even though I still love him, if I look at his stupid stripper-marrying face right now I might kill him, and then I’ll go to prison and the dress will definitely go to waste, and the reindeer keeper won’t get his Christmas bonus and he’s using it to buy his son a PlayStation, that’s why. I’m thinking of the reindeer keeper’s son.’
‘You have to talk to him before you go through with this hare-brained plan of yours, you have to,’ Liv exclaimed. ‘At least give him a chance to fix things and take control.’
Anna chewed hard on her lip, as the debate between logic and irrational reactions raged in her head.
‘But what if I do accidentally kill him?’ she mumbled eventually, glaring at the door.
‘I’ll help you dissolve his body in the bath in acid. We’ll find any old person to marry you, you’ll get the dress, the reindeer, t
he kid will get his games console, you’ll have the party followed by a quickie divorce.’
‘A quickie divorce – they got married in Vegas, home of the quickie divorce and yet, they are still married. A week before my wedding they are still married.’ Anna seemed to consider Liv’s offer of accessory to murder quite seriously, shrugged and went to the front door, pausing before she opened it to ask, ‘Where do you buy that much acid anyway and what about the enamel on the bath?’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, try talking to him. I’ll leave you to it,’ she added, hurriedly, keen not to get caught in the middle of this particular moment. She let herself into the flat and then hovered behind the front door, standing on tiptoe so she could spy through the peephole, straining to hear.
‘I’m not talking to you, remember?’ Anna said, tightly, forcing herself not to look at Tom, because he looked sad and apologetic and like he needed a hug, just like his dog Napoleon did when he’d been caught out chewing his way through an antique chair leg. ‘I thought you might have gathered that from the way I tipped that cup of coffee on your head, slapped you hard around the face and walked out.’
‘I did get that,’ Tom said. ‘I’m just not sure exactly why.’
‘Er … already married to a stripper when you are about to marry me?’ Anna said, blocking his attempt to make it over the threshold and into the building by moving first to her right and then left. It was already dark outside, and it had begun to rain quite heavily, adding to Tom’s look of bedraggled remorse. Screwing her mouth into a tight knot, Anna resisted the urge to ask him in and make him a hot chocolate, and then curl up in bed and fall asleep on his chest, which right at that moment was what she wanted to do most in the world.
‘You said that it wasn’t as if I cheated on you,’ Tom reminded her, hesitantly. ‘You said it all happened eight years ago and that it doesn’t change anything now, and that you still love me and we can still get married.’ Smiling at her, he took her gently by the shoulders and manoeuvred them both inside, finally getting out of the rain. ‘When did that very sane and reasonable attitude to my very stupid and ridiculous mistake go out the window?’
Married By Christmas Page 5