The Bridesmaid

by Nina Manning

  We gave Chuck our drinks orders, and I excused myself from Mum and Dad so I could get closer to Caitlin.

  She threw her arms out wide to greet me. ‘Sorry, we couldn’t spend much time together yesterday – Mama had so many plans.’

  ‘Okay. No worries. Did you get my present?’ I had left the best friends ornament wrapped and with Judith earlier in the afternoon.

  ‘What? Oh yeah, that. Yes.’ Caitlin looked around the marquee. I felt a sinking feeling. I expected a better response than that.

  ‘We have one each now. Best friends forever.’ I touched her arm.

  She looked at my hand on her arm. Then she looked at me. ‘Of course. Duh!’

  I felt my sprits rise at that. We were always going to be best friends.

  I shrugged and looked around at the dance floor. More people were milling in through the marquee entrance and the DJ had cranked the music up – ‘Express Yourself’ by Madonna. I had been listening to the album Like A Prayer loads and I desperately wanted to dance. I started moving from one foot to the other in my unconscious effort to suppress my desire, as I knew I would want to wait until Caitlin started dancing first. It was her party, after all.

  It took three bottles of Coke – which I was sure Chuck had snuck some vodka into – and a hog-roast bun before Caitlin was ready to bust some moves. She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the middle of the dance floor where the DJ was playing ‘Get on Your Feet’ by Gloria Estefan – he couldn’t have chosen a better tune, in my opinion.

  Once we were right in the centre, we started dancing. Our bodies eventually synced with one another as we each in turn showed off a move we had learnt or rehearsed recently, and before we knew it, a small crowd of kids, old and young, had formed a circle around us. Caitlin and I revelled in the attention, and when the song finished, we fell into one another’s arms, but Caitlin’s stature being slightly bulkier than mine, meant that she fell more towards me in what felt like a forced move, acting out her slight drunkenness. We toppled and then fell in a heap on the dance floor. There were a few brief looks of concern from the adults, but when we emerged howling with laughter, they all went back to their loud conversations over the music. Caitlin stood up first, still laughing, and then held her hand out for me. I put my hand out to take hers and she quickly pulled it away, put her finger to her nose and blew a raspberry. Then she turned and scooted off to the other side of the marquee.

  I looked at the floor and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There at my feet was the skull keyring and key. I looked around in case it was a joke and Caitlin was about to pounce on me, but no one was looking at me any more. I quickly stood up, grabbing the skeleton key on the way up.

  I clutched the key in my hand and felt the hard metal pressing into my palm. I walked quickly towards the closest exit in the now busy marquee and went towards the pop-up toilets outside. There was one cubicle free, so I squished myself inside. There was a small amount of light from above, so I took out the skeleton key, trying to ignore the foul smell of chemicals coming from the hole beside me, and examined it. I traced my fingers over the eye sockets of the skull keyring and I wondered how long it would be before Caitlin noticed that it was missing.

  The party seemed to be in full swing, and so I decided to make a run for it before I was noticed. I would walk along the corridors, looking for doors that were locked and look in them. If anyone asked me later, I would say I went to find paracetamol at home.

  I headed back down the garden path to the front of the house. I knew the back porch door would be open, and then I could easily make my way up the stairs without being seen or heard.

  As predicted, the back door was closed but not locked, so I opened it and found myself in the dimly lit hallway. I scooted up the stairs. There was a bright full moon, which filtered through the windows and added some illumination to what would have otherwise been a corridor as pitch black as it was on that New Year’s Eve; a memory that still nudged at me from time to time.

  When I found myself on the first floor, I walked along the corridor that boasted artwork on the walls and large statues and ornaments on stands. The floorboards wobbled and creaked slightly as I walked and tested doors for locked ones. I imagined Caitlin running down here as a child and the expensive art and ornaments wavering as she went.

  Most of the doors were open ajar, and I peeked in, only to see a large bed. But then I tried a door to my left. It was locked, and my stomach did a somersault of excitement.

  I thrust the key in and turned it to the right. It didn’t budge. Then I remembered I had watched films before where I had seen them using a skeleton key, but they would wiggle it for a few seconds and that made sense, as each lock was different and the teeth of the key needed to find their way into the lock to fit. I gave it another go, this time wiggling it to one side and then the next, before I gave it one firm turn to the right. When I heard it click, I could hardly believe my ears.

  The door creaked open; I was disheartened to discover a laundry cupboard.

  I closed the door and locked it again; the locking was considerably easier.

  Further down the hallway I discovered three other doors, all unlocked. I peered in to one room and saw the dress Ava had worn on New Year’s Eve last year hanging on the back of a wardrobe and a huge four-poster bed to my left. This must be Ava and Maxwell’s room, I thought. I stepped in so I was just inside the room and breathed in Ava’s perfume. The window was open, and the curtains blew in the breeze. I shivered, and suddenly it didn’t feel right to be standing in Ava’s bedroom any more. So I stepped back into the hallway, took a few more steps and found myself at the end of the corridor.

  There was one final door to my left, which was closed. As I stood by the door, I could feel the energy coming from behind it, as though whatever was inside was waiting for me, getting ready to tell me the story.

  I fumbled with the key and almost dropped it, then I put it into the keyhole. I tried to turn it, and it didn’t turn. I felt my gut sink with disappointment. I thrust the key in again and gave it a good wiggle, like I had with the laundry-room door, and I heard the lock click open.

  I turned the brass knob and stepped into a room that seemed to be a study. Ava’s study? I knew Maxwell had a study on the ground floor, but I didn’t know Ava kept a study here too. I could hear the loud bass of the music coming from the marquee. I kicked myself once I was in the room, as I hadn’t bought a torch. Why hadn’t I come more prepared? If I turned on the overhead light, someone would surely see from the garden below. I felt around the furniture in front of me and found my leg connecting with a desk. I pushed my hand around, looking for something that could serve as light and when my fingers connected with a small box. I heard the familiar rattle of matchsticks. I can’t possibly have this much luck in one night? I picked them up and struck a match.

  I looked around at the new surroundings that I found myself in. I had seen a glimpse of Maxwell’s office before, and it had been lots of dark green leather and brass, a few hunting paintings on the wall. But this was more feminine, and I could see that immediately by how many candles were in the room. I lit a small inconspicuous-looking one, hoping that it wasn’t scented and wouldn’t send a smell down the hallway. Once it was lit, I could see the room a little better, which was nearly all pink. It shocked me, as I had never once seen Ava dress in pink; she was usually all blues and grey and formal clothes. The pinkness of the room made me feel as though I had discovered something she had been keeping a secret. I fell into a plush dark pink chair that was trimmed with frills at the base and looked around at the pink spiral wallpaper and the pink carpet and walls of bookshelves.

  There was one old-looking painting on the wall of two chubby-looking children with wings, one was leaning their chin in their hand, the other had their chin resting on top of their arms. They were both looking upwards to their left, as though at an adult. There were a few of the same kind of statues I had seen along the corridor’s as well.

  And then t
here was Ava’s desk, where I had just lit the candle. A large reddish wood-looking table with a matching high-back chair. I took myself back over to the desk, I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my body, I knew I needed to work fast. Maybe I would find something here that would give me some more clues about the presents around the tree stump at the back of the tennis court. Maybe I would discover something else. Maybe it would be something small, but I would feel as though I had one up on Caitlin, who always acted so in control of everything.

  My attention was drawn to my right where a high shelf housed a small Japanese-looking vase. It was sitting all alone and looked so enchanting that I was tempted to pick it up and inspect it. But I quickly put that idea out of my head as I imagined myself dropping and smashing it.

  My attention was back on the desk which had a few pieces of paper sat neatly in lines across it, as though they were in the order they should be dealt with. Some looked like bank statements, others were handwritten letters. I scanned the contents of the handwritten letter, which was from a friend replying about a lunch invitation. I thought it so strange that a telephone had been invented and the Clemontes and their circle felt it necessary to write long letters just to say, yes they would like to come to lunch.

  There didn’t seem to be anywhere else in this room where Ava could hide anything, and the drawers were the only other option, unless there were loose floorboards or holes in the wall, and I knew I didn’t have time for that. I would be missed soon if I didn’t get back, and I was sure Caitlin would be missing her key by now. I felt my fingertips buzzing as they edged their way to the first drawer. The handle was brass and rectangular, and my fingers immediately slipped as I tried to pull it and bashed against the hard wood of the second drawer. I flinched, then stayed where I was bent over, perfectly statue still, until I was sure I couldn’t hear anyone approaching. Then I clutched the handle again and this time I managed to pull the drawer, which was quite stiff, open all the way. I picked up the candle, which was on a small plate and brought it closer, careful not to spill any wax, so I could scan the drawer contents. There was only a magnifying glass, a selection of pens, and a green-and-white floral writing set.

  The middle drawer slid open more easily and contained more writing paper, several bits of loose change and some hair pins.

  The initial adrenaline that had given me the courage to enter the house alone was fading fast and being replaced with a flat sense of disappointment.

  I hurriedly opened the bottom drawer, expecting only to see more of Ava’s writing paraphernalia. Only this time the drawer contained just one large, yellowed envelope. It looked plump, as though there was something quite bulky inside. I put the candle back on the desk, took out the envelope and slid into the desk chair. I carefully opened the flap, which wasn’t sealed, and discovered a pile of photographs. They were all of a similar size, and I looked at each one, trying to take in what I was seeing. Initially, it all seemed fairly normal and didn’t raise any alarm bells, but eventually the content of each photo took on a sort of repetition, and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as my brain slowly started to make sense of them. I reached the end of the photos and went back through them once more, this time I counted as I went. And as I suspected there would be, altogether I was holding fourteen photographs.

  A noise behind me made me turn suddenly, still holding the photographs in my hand. And I wanted the chair to swallow me whole as the looming figure of Ava stood in the doorway.

  I raced back along the path, towards the marquee. A few people were staggering about outside and there were even a few of the older kids sat by the edge of the pool, dipping their toes to cool off.

  I sat down at one of the tables closest to the entrance. My heart was racing. The DJ was playing a song that I presumed was for Josephine’s benefit as about ten men and women of around her age were on the dance floor all singing, whooping and kicking their legs in the air. I wasn’t sure what the song was – I had never heard it before – but I couldn’t help but smile at the way they all seemed to be living in the moment without a care in the world.

  Caitlin appeared through a small crowd that was gathered in front of me.

  ‘There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

  I tried to steady my breathing. I couldn’t get the image of Ava staring at me from the doorway out of my head. The sound of her voice, low and mechanical in my ear.

  ‘Well, you can’t have been looking very far.’ I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could.

  ‘What does that mean? I did a whole circuit of the garden. They just played “Love Shack” – it’s the best song ever, and you weren’t here!’

  ‘Did you dance?’ I said, taking a sly look around to see if Ava had followed me back down here.

  ‘I went for it, big time!’ Caitlin said with a sparkle in her eye.

  ‘Thought so.’ I put my arms around her and began to spin her around. Initially, she looked perturbed but eventually she gave in and threw her head back in elation. I realised this could have been my moment to slip the key back into her bag, but something was preventing me from doing so. Instead, the key stayed put in my back pocket.

  As the evening drew to a close around eleven o’clock, the DJ slowed the music right down. Chuck came over and offered his hand out to me.

  ‘May I have this dance, please?’

  I looked around for Caitlin, but I could see she was dancing, albeit awkwardly, with Maxwell; the look on her face was of pure contentment. I took Chuck’s hand as he led me to the dance floor. I felt the eyes of my parents on me and I wanted to die. But once Chuck had placed one hand firmly on my waist and took one of my hands in his then livened things up with a few comedy spins and turns, I was soon laughing off the embarrassment.

  I felt happy and warm in Chuck’s arms. His touch was gentle, and he smiled at me and talked to me the whole way through the song. It was a good distraction from how I was feeling about Ava discovering me in her study. Every time Chuck spun me around, I took the opportunity to scan the entire marquee for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  Suddenly, Chuck leant in and whispered in my ear, ‘You look very lovely this evening, Sasha.’ But then, as I was trying to calm my pounding heart and think of something suitably complimentary to say back, we both turned to hear a commotion at one of the entrances to the marquee. Some of the adults were gathered at the doorway, and I could hear a lot of shouting. Chuck took my hand and we both began walking over to where quite a crowd had already formed. We were near the back of the group and so we stood on the outskirts, waiting and trying to see by standing on tiptoes, but all the while Chuck kept hold of my hand, and every now and again gave it a quick squeeze of reassurance. Even though some sort of trouble was kicking off right outside the tent, all I could think about was how Chuck’s hand was in mine, and he didn’t seem to want or need to let go.

  Eventually, we pushed our way to the front of the crowd and found ourselves on the front lawn, where we could see Hackett holding a young man by the scruff of the neck. The young lad was squirming and kicking out and was shouting quite a few profanities.

  My hand slipped from Chuck’s as I stepped closer to Hackett. My suspicions were confirmed. The lad that was hanging from the large man’s grip was Bill.

  I strode over without any further thought and touched Hackett’s arm. ‘Put him down, Hackett. It’s okay, I know him.’

  Hackett looked confused for a second but then looked at Bill, who had stopped squirming and was giving me some sort of wave. He promptly dropped the boy, who stumbled to the ground and then quickly stood up and brushed himself down.

  Maxwell, who I hadn’t noticed was also there, spoke next.

  ‘Sasha, would you be kind enough to inform us who this ruffian you claim to know is and what he is doing on our property at this hour?’

  I realised I had now put my foot in it and that by admitting I knew him, I would also have to admit meeting him the woods and telling him about the part
y tonight.

  But thankfully I didn’t have to say anything because Bill was talking.

  ‘What she means is, is that we met a few weeks back, out on the road. We exchanged pleasantries.’ Bill said the last word in a tone that was not his, as though he were trying his best to fit in. ‘And tonight, as I have told this chap ’ere over and over, is that my dog has gone missing and I stumbled into your grounds looking for ’er, but this geezer was on me like a ninja before I could even call her name.’

  Maxwell looked at me. ‘What do you say, old girl? Do we buy this tall tale?’

  ‘He’s harmless, Maxwell,’ I said quietly.

  Maxwell took a deep breath and nodded his head. ‘Right, well someone get him some refreshments and keep your eyes peeled for “this dog”.’ Maxwell used his fingers to form quotation marks. He was clearly not taken with the story, but was doing a fine job of playing the good host and trying to decrease the tension.

  ‘Everyone, pop back off to the dance floor and finish up your drinks for the final dance. We have this under control.’ Maxwell adjusted his bow tie and sounded to me rather like someone who did not have anything under control at all.

  In fact, what I had learnt in Ava’s study made me realise that none of them had anything under control. The fact that I now had an insight into their life, gave me a growing sense of importance. But there was a slight undertone of worry, that the conversation I had with Ava at the doorway to her study may not have been enough to save my parents’ jobs.

  I approached Bill, who was still trying to drag back an ounce of his dignity, and stood next to him.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Yep, yep, all good.’ He brushed his trousers down.

  ‘So this dog, then?’

  ‘Oh yeah, Dougie.’

  ‘Dougie?’

  ‘Yep, Dougie. She’s a collie. Not my dog, but she got scared. There’s some shootin’ goin’ on at the next farm – she’s a rescue dog, so it must have triggered summin.’

  ‘Dougie sounds like a boy’s name.’