Charlotte's attention becomes distracted, Veronica probing the detail of the wedding; outfits, choice of church, how many bridesmaids, dresses....How much it's all costing....James leans close, speaking in a low voice. "Thanks for that. Charlotte would have been mortified. One of the things I know she was taught on that farm was that you don't waste food. That it's bad-mannered not to clear your plate. Between that and starving as a kid, she never...."I brush it off. "Forget it. I asked you to bring her so she could get used to this kind of thing."He arches brows. "Really? Should I read something into that?"I prevaricate. "She was worried about the wedding reception, about knowing how to behave at a formal occasion. This is good practice for her."He nods, chewing his food thoughtfully.In for a penny...."As a matter of fact, there's something else I wanted to run by you." I glance across to check Charlotte's attention is elsewhere. It is. She's listening politely
BETHAs I step out of the elevator and into the reception area, Michael is there. Hands behind his head, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, he sits staring into space, humming tunelessly."Waiting for someone?"His eyes flick to me. "Hi, Beth," he smiles. "Yeah, Charlotte's running late." He stands, reaching for the box I'm carrying. "Here let me take that for you.""Thanks." Gratefully, I pass it to him, then shake the blood back into my aching hands before brushing myself down of dust and cobwebs."Heavy," he comments, lifting it with no apparent effort. "Where do you want it?""In the conference room, please. Just put it down in the corner."Michael deposits the box, gritty with the dirt of years, on the expensive carpet of my husband's meeting room, then swipes hands together with the logic that argues you can clean off one against the other. "Any more like that?""I have a carload of the stuff and more where that came from. But don't bother. Ross is brin
RICHARD"How about the bar and a beer?""A beer?""I really appreciate the help you've been giving Elizabeth with those old papers of Albert's. The least I can do is buy you a drink.""Thank you, Richard. That's a great idea.""This round's on me."*****"So, are you finding anything of interest in that appalling pile of garbage from Elizabeth's old uncle?"Michael muses into his glass. "Depends what you're looking for I suppose, but it's actually quite interesting, seeing someone else's life like this. Once you get past thirty-year-old bus tickets, you find the things that really tell you something.""Like what?""Did you know he was a bankrupt?""Was he now..."Wonder if Elizabeth knew that....".... That could explain a lot. What little I saw of him was mainly complaints that things weren't as they should be, and everything was better in his day.""Mind you...." Michael gulp at his beer. ".... he must have recovered from it. At least enough to have owned
JAMESWe're blessed with glorious weather and a good forecast for tomorrow. A May Wedding....Perfect....Michael is somewhere in the bowels of the hotel finalising the reception arrangements....Handy having our own venue....Sitting on grassy slopes, stretching out my bad leg and letting the heat of the sun work its magic, I take time out to wallow in the glow of success....Almost there....Something rustles behind me. Michael, bearing two steaming mugs, his footsteps muffled by springy turf. Even before he speaks, the breeze carries the scent to my nose."Coffee?" he offers, holding out a mug."Ah, great. Thanks." As I twist a little to take the mug, the wound in my thigh growls a quiet message to me. I wince.Michael sits by me. "That thing giving you gyp?""Mmm. A bit.""The doctors said it would take several months to heal properly.""Oh, it is healing. It's better all the time. But I've a feeling I'm going to have a weather-wise ache for the rest of
Back in her room, Charlotte is waiting, gnawing on her knuckles....She thinks I might be angry with her?Not for this........ Never for this....Michael shakes his head, smiles, radiating reassurance. As I take her hand, her eyes pass between the two of us....Do this right....It's a special occasion........ As special as it gets....I lift her hand to my lips, kissing the fingers. "Charlotte, tomorrow, you will be walking down the aisle to meet Michael. I'll be with him, his Best Man, and he will put his ring on your finger. But for now.... "Reaching into my pocket, I take out what nestles there.Her eyes widen, luminous with tears as I lean in to kiss her and slip the band of red gold, red as the gleam of her hair, on to her finger. It sits beside the two she already wears, one of white and yellow gold, one of red and yellow gold, her love gifts from myself and Michael, and our original promise to her of what was to come.I kiss her again, on the lips, and
JAMES The morning is chaotic. In theory, Michael and I, Richard and the guests occupy the hotel. Charlotte and Beth have the house. In practice, people mill about in all directions, turning up in unexpected places....Still in jeans and tee-shirt while I make a last check on preparations, I eject a couple of kids from the kitchen where the chef's knife set seems to be a magnet for them. Then as I turn to leave, I run into an old lady trying to force the larder door open."I was only looking for the ladies' toilets....""And who are you?""I'm Michael's Aunty Gladys""Well, I'm James, his Best Man, and you'll find the toilets along the corridor." Taking her by the shoulders, I turn her around, steering her to aim the right way, then wait and watch to be sure she toddles off.In the bedroom we're using as a changing room, Michael looks harassed. "Please tell me you remembered to lock the door to the cellars in the house.""Oh, yes. We don't want random wanderers down the
".... I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."Michael lifts the veil, tossing it back over Charlotte's copper-red tresses to free her face....Her beautiful face....He stoops to kiss her, softly, on the lips.And it comes crashing down on me....... The reality of what I am doing...What I have done.What have I done?I've given her away...I have given the Love of my Life to another man.Whatever I say, however I wrap it in clever words, however I try to justify it to myself, or to them, on the register, it will not be my name next to hers.My gut clenches and pain stabs at my temples. Stomach roiling, I regret the breakfast I was so glad of a few hours ago.All I can do is try to mask the emotion, to keep it from my face.Michael breaks from the kiss, his face bright, hers radiant, but as her gaze passes to mine, her smile fades and her lips part.Then she, like me, blanks her expression, turning to her husband.Her husband....Outs
The meal is magnificent.Despite the earlier 'sauce debacle', the chef has conjured up an excellent replacement which complements the chicken very well indeed. I run the flavour over my tongue, swishing it around, trying to identify all the ingredients...Garlic... Tarragon... Black pepper...But there's something...Wonder if she'd share the recipe?Probably not....But I'm trying to distract myself. When I wrote my speech, I knew what I wanted to say, and I meant it with all my heart....You chose to do this....Every part of it....How can I let my friend down now? The friend who has stood side by side with me for years. The friend who has never let me down. Or, when we let each other down, we helped each other stand again, together.The meal is done. Waiters pass between the guests, filling flutes. I glance sidelong at the pair. They are indeed the very image of the 'Happy Couple'. Laughing and joking, he handsome, she so beautiful....Together....And abrup