The Wedding Pact

by Isla Gordon

‘That sounds exactly right, actually,’ Mrs Haverley answered, getting up and pulling a large photo album off her shelf, before bringing it, and the Advocaat bottle, back to the table with her.

  ‘Did you know her?’

  ‘Your grandmother or “Windy Day”?’

  ‘Either.’

  ‘How about both?’ Mrs Haverley started flicking pages in the photo album, thick, stiff pages with photographs glued directly onto the card. ‘It turns out you and I have been friends far longer than I realised, August Anderson.’

  She slid the open photo album towards August. August felt her face light up into a beam on seeing her grandmother’s face looking out at her. Pearl’s hair was darker in the photo than August remembered it being, curled around her face. She was laughing, standing in a river, the water up to her ankles. Her tea dress was hoiked up around her knees and she held both it and a cigarette in one hand. The other arm was linked with another girl’s, someone younger, who was doubled over with laughter, her eyes scrunched shut and the sun illuminating her skin. But even in the split-second capture of what looked like a wonderful summer’s day, August knew exactly who it was.

  ‘This is you! And my grandma!’ she said, delighted. ‘You and my grandma were friends?’

  ‘I’ve lived in this house a long, long time, August. Before it was separated into apartments, before your grandmother moved to Bath.’

  ‘So you’re, um, Windy Day?’

  ‘I’m actually Wendy Day – or at least I was before I married – but your grandmother delighted in calling me Windy Day.’

  August sat back in her chair and stared at Mrs Haverley. ‘But … you’re a lot younger than my grandmother.’

  ‘I was back then, too,’ Mrs Haverley joked. ‘But when we met we were both single and had enough friends in common that the fact I was barely twenty and she was, I think, early thirties didn’t matter. We had a lot of fun and laughs.’

  ‘Did the two of you fall out?’

  ‘Oh no,’ Mrs Haverley said with a firm shake of her head. ‘Over the years we lost the closeness to the point of being no more than acquaintances I’m afraid. But that’s just how life works. Pearl was older, she married and started a family before I did, long before I did, as it happens. Though I remember she thought I was the one who was the ‘old soul’ and stuck in my ways. We just drifted apart. I do remember her bringing you here that day though.’

  August watched Mrs Haverley talk. She’d known her grandmother. She’d been friends with her grandmother, to the point that she also called her Pearl. A tear spilled onto a cheek which August tried to wipe away so Mrs Haverley wouldn’t see it, because though it warmed her heart to have this connection to her past, a guilty cannonball sank inside her. Mrs Haverley – old-fashioned, austere Mrs Haverley – had been her beloved grandmother’s friend. And August had lied to her.

  In an attempt to shake away the feeling of shame, August turned back to the photo album and silently pledged to no longer view Mrs Haverley as just an old-fashioned landlady, but to see her and hear her as a person. Starting with today.

  ‘Mrs H, I’m going to make that eggnog for us, and then will you tell me the story behind these photos?’

  Mrs Haverley smiled at August, colour in her cheeks, and said, ‘I would love that, August.’

  November’s long and drizzly stretch eventually turned into December. August watched as Flynn’s work didn’t let up, and occasionally she wondered when he’d last seen daylight. He left home in the dark, he came home in the dark. She guessed his lunch breaks were non-existent, as was his social life.

  He and August didn’t talk about Poppy, or their argument, and sometimes a sadness appeared to envelop Flynn that he couldn’t seem to shake. He barely noticed things like the Christmas lights being switched on in the city centre or the market that had popped up, or the festive music that had begun to be the background soundtrack to everything outside his office walls. He seemed lonely, longing to come up for air.

  August watched Flynn from the sidelines, wondering how to help, wishing she could take some of his burden off his hands. The more he worked, the less she saw of him, but what she did see seemed sad and withdrawn.

  One evening, mid-December, when she was nearly ready to hit the sack but poor Flynn hadn’t even made it home yet, an idea struck her. If she could get him home at a normal time, just for one evening, she was sure she could inject some much-needed Christmas spirit into him.

  ‘A Christmas party?’ Bel asked down the end of the phone. ‘Of course I’m in – where?’

  ‘My house,’ August explained. ‘Just a small party – my friends, his friends from the office, just something to help Flynn forget work for the night and let the festive spirit in.’

  ‘Would your landlady allow a party in your flat?’

  ‘We’d keep it low-key, and it’s not like I can see any of us doing keg-stands on the landing or anything.’ The more August thought about the idea, the better it felt. Flynn needed some fun, some friendly faces, and yes, a couple of them would be from his work but she knew he hadn’t spent any chilled evenings with them in the pub for a long time. ‘I think he needs this, Bel.’

  ‘Do you think he’s blue about not going home to Japan for the holidays?’

  August had wondered about that, but hadn’t had a chance to speak to him about it. ‘Maybe. I was wondering whether to ask him if he wanted to spend Christmas together.’

  August’s mum had decided to go away for Christmas this year, on a Baltic cruise with her sister, August’s aunt. They’d asked August if she wanted to join them, but she couldn’t really afford to get her own room, and wasn’t sure three of them in one cabin for nine days would be anyone’s idea of a Merry Christmas.

  ‘That would be nice, he’d probably appreciate it,’ Bel answered.

  ‘So would you come to the party? With Steve of course, and Kenny if you like?’

  ‘Of course, count us in.’

  When August hung up the phone, it was as if the Christmas lights had been switched on inside her. Finally, she had a reason to feel festive, and a Christmas present for Flynn she thought he would really like, and maybe even need: a chance for a little bit of festive fun.

  Chapter 59

  Flynn

  ‘What are you doing next Thursday evening?’ August asked Flynn as soon as he returned from his morning run. His eyes immediately flicked towards his work laptop, worried about what emails he might have missed from just being gone an hour.

  August tapped his arm. ‘Don’t say you’ll be stuck at work. What if I told you you had to give yourself the evening off?’

  ‘If my hand were being forced, I can’t say I’d complain,’ he said, without commitment. He watched as she went about the motions of making him one of his banana smoothies, Ariana Grande singing Christmas music from the radio in the background. It was sweet – he hadn’t asked her to, and she wasn’t making a big deal out of it trying to earn brownie points or anything, it was just … kind. But it didn’t change anything. He still had to go, he just didn’t know when.

  ‘Good.’ She whirred the blender and continued bopping along to the track. She knew the melody so well that she could keep dancing, even though she couldn’t hear it over the noise. ‘Because we’re throwing a Christmas Party. No – I’m throwing a Christmas Party. For you.’ She handed him his smoothie.

  ‘You are?’

  ‘I am. It’s all arranged, your friends from work are coming, plus my friends who are now basically your friends too. It’s not going to be a rager, just maybe fifteen people, a few drinks and nibbles.’

  ‘You’ve already arranged all this?’ Flynn couldn’t believe it. ‘For me?’

  ‘For you,’ she said, nodding. ‘And because I think you need a little Christmas spirit, otherwise I’m basically living with the Grinch.’ She winked to show she was teasing.

  Nobody had ever thrown Flynn a party before. And of course, this wasn’t purely a ‘Happy Christmas to Flynn and only to Flynn’ eve
nt, but it meant a lot that she’d go to the lengths of planning it, picking the date, contacting the guests, all because she thought he needed some cheering up.

  In that moment, for just a second, he forgot the pained thoughts that had been growing in him. He forgot how he kind of hated his job, how he missed Japan, how he missed Yui and felt like a fool for jumping into the thing with Poppy too quickly.

  ‘So are you in?’

  ‘Sure, I’m in,’ he answered. ‘Do you think we should forewarn the neighbours?’

  ‘On it!’ she sang. ‘Just before you got home I delivered a box of Christmas cookies to each of them, along with a card to say we were having a gathering and would keep the noise down, and that it would all be over by eleven.’

  Flynn nodded his head approvingly.

  ‘So all you need to do is show up, okay? This is my Christmas present to you, and you taking a night off from the grind can be your Christmas present to me.’

  True to his word, Flynn showed up. In fact, just knowing there was a string of Christmas lights at the end of the tunnel kept him going through the long days and nights of working. Just knowing he would have an evening off – a proper evening where there would be no temptation to look at his work emails – made him excited. And despite everything that was brewing under the surface, he found in himself a whisper of longing to spend some proper time with August. He couldn’t deny it.

  ‘Your friends from work don’t think we’re married or anything, do they?’ August said, hobbling out of her room shortly before seven on the evening of the party. She was wearing a bright red dress with a flared hem, silver glittering eyeshadow, and, at that moment, a single white stiletto. She was jamming some big white orb earrings that looked like snowballs through the holes in her ears.

  Despite the distance that had grown between them since Flynn told her he needed space, she still managed to take his breath away for a moment. He pulled himself together and answered with a, ‘No, so no pretending needed tonight.’

  ‘No pretending,’ August smiled, catching his eye. ‘So how do I look?’

  ‘Great, except I think you’re missing a shoe? Unless this is a new trend I’m not aware of?’

  ‘I’m getting to that one,’ August breezed, and flicked on the Christmas playlist she’d created on her phone, her speakers filling the apartment with Wham!

  Flynn made them both a snowball cocktail while she sang along unselfconsciously to ‘Last Christmas’.

  The thing about Christmas parties, as evidenced throughout history and documented in many movies and novels, is that the rules are different, there’s magic in the air; anything can happen, and usually, it does.

  Chapter 60

  August

  Their guests arrived in quick succession, appearing generally in threes and fours, sharing taxis to the top of Elizabeth Street to avoid walking too far in their smart – and most likely uncomfortable – shoes, and in the frosty December air.

  August surveyed the scene with warmth in her soul. Sia’s ‘Santa’s Coming for Us’ was playing in the background, the snowball cocktails were a hit, Flynn’s work friends were mingling seamlessly with hers, and, most importantly, Flynn looked relaxed. His face glowed in the soft glimmer from the fairy lights, and his eyes had more sparkle than the drapes of tinsel August had strung around the window panes.

  There was a knock on the door, interrupting her thoughts, and she bopped over to open it, finding Callie and her mum, bedecked in sequins and reindeer antlers, waving her card.

  ‘A Christmas Party!’ Callie exclaimed. ‘Hell, yes. This was such a great idea, thanks August! Ooh, are these your friends? Hell-o.’

  Uh-oh.

  Callie was inside her flat, making a beeline for one of Flynn’s workmates, a man named Joe. Callie’s mum handed August a bottle of red and danced her way inside as well, and August darted a glance to Flynn. Their eyes met in joint panic mode, and without further ado, Flynn rolled off the back of the sofa and twirled in front of both Callie and her mum, taking one hand from each of them and spinning them both to face away from the bedrooms. August reached the rooms in three strides and whipped both doors closed, containing their separate sleeping quarters behind them.

  Flynn caught up with August by the kitchen. ‘Erm,’ he started.

  ‘I swear, I didn’t invite them,’ August hissed. ‘I clearly said on the card we were having a small party and that we wouldn’t disturb them.’

  ‘We can’t ask them to leave,’ Flynn said. ‘ … Can we? You do it!’

  ‘No, we can’t ask them to leave, we just have to stop them talking to anyone.’ Even to August that was easier said than done, knowing Callie. ‘It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine! Most of my friends know we’re having to live this lie anyway,’ It was becoming harder to admit that was what they were doing these days. ‘I’ll go round and let them know to play along if needed. Do you want to warn any of your work friends?’

  ‘Not really, not here, but I will if it becomes necessary.’

  August forced a smile back on her face. ‘It’s no big deal though, right? We’ll just make sure Callie and her mum are always talking to you, me or Bel. Let’s get back to enjoying the party.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Flynn nodded. ‘It’ll be f—’

  ‘Gotta go,’ August interrupted him and flew across the room to grab Callie who was circling Joe like a predator and her prey. August grabbed Callie’s hands and led her in a mid-living room jive to ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’.

  Callie looked so happy to be dancing and August felt a rush of warmth towards her, which may have been fuelled by the cocktails. Callie really was a great friend to her.

  Bugger it. August opened her mouth because she couldn’t hold the secret any longer. And Callie was fun, she’d understand, maybe she’d even find it hilarious. Over the music she called, ‘Callie, I’ve got something really funny to tell you.’

  Chapter 61

  Flynn

  Flynn was just about to get back into the swing of the evening when there was another knock on the door.

  ‘Allen, Maud,’ he greeted them, because of course they were here too. ‘Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Merry Christmas, lad,’ Allen said. ‘I feel like I’ve barely seen you around the place lately, so we couldn’t miss the opportunity for the party.’

  ‘Oh, there’s a lot of young people here,’ said Maud, taking a cautious step into the flat.

  Flynn nodded, trying to look disappointed. ‘I know; we’ll completely understand if it’s not your scene.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Maud said, and started shuffling in.

  Allen surveyed the scene with a beam on his face. ‘We haven’t been to a Christmas party like this since we lived in Stratford in our younger years.’

  ‘Ah, you’re an East Ender, Allen, like I was for a while.’

  He nodded. ‘Maybe I’ll try and make some acquaintances this evening.’

  Flynn’s eyes widened and he called out loudly, ‘Great! August, look who’s arrived!’

  August looked like she was about to say something to Callie, but stopped dancing while her gaze fell on her downstairs neighbours. Her grin didn’t falter for a minute, but Flynn knew her well enough now to know that behind the fake smile was a very real Oh, shit.

  ‘Callie, look,’ she said, ‘Here’s our other lovely neighbours. Why don’t the three of you have a catch up while I get you all some drinks. Where’s your mum gone?’

  ‘We see each other all the time,’ Callie waved her away and zeroed her focus in on Joe again.

  Flynn caught her this time, taking her into his arms and dancing her in the general direction of the kitchen, i.e. the opposite end of the room to Joe. This was also where Callie’s mum was. She in deep conversation with Kenny, who was delivering a monologue about how beautiful Flynn and August’s wedding had been.

  Kenny winked at Flynn in camaraderie, and continued saying, ‘I was Flynn’s best man and I managed to convince the whole wedding party to go
swimming in the sea right before the ceremony.’

  Flynn managed to unhook Callie’s hand from his shoulder, placing it onto Kenny’s instead and swung back around to help August with Allen and Maud. En route, he whispered in Joe’s ear, ‘If anybody says anything to you this evening about August and I being married, please just go with it.’

  Joe’s eyes crinkled at the edges and he started to laugh, his loud, booming laugh that made his whole beard shimmy. ‘What—’

  ‘No time to explain. I’ll owe you one.’ With that, Flynn returned to Allen just as he was about to open the door to August’s room. ‘You all right there, Allen?’

  ‘Just looking for your bathroom, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘That door there,’ Flynn pointed and off Allen shuffled.

  Flynn caught August’s eye across the room, where Maud was showing her photos on her phone of her grandkids, and August mouthed to him, ‘I’m sorry.’

  He shook his head at her and smiled. It wasn’t her fault. Spotting Callie’s discarded card on the side, he picked it up to read the wording.

  We’re having a Christmas Party! We hope you like parties, but just in case you don’t we’ll keep the noise down. From 7 to 11 in our flat (the middle), ready for you to have a ‘silent night’ afterwards. Merry Christmas! Love, August and Flynn x

  Well, it was certainly enigmatic. He wasn’t surprised the neighbours thought they were invited. This was going to be an interesting evening.

  Chapter 62

  August

  August needed some air, just for a minute. She’d just got away from Maud, who was lovely, but was in full flow about her grandkids and where they lived, and when August happened to mention that she too used to live in West London it started a whole fresh batch of pictures to be brought out. Not to be unkind, but it was kind of killing her party buzz.

  She stepped from the apartment, closing the door behind her and nearly colliding with Abe as he descended the stairs from the top floor.