Amanda's Wedding (35 page)

‘Or round at Alex's having a wonderful time.'

‘Neh.' He loosened his tie. ‘How's your cake?'

‘Are you trying to distract me?'

‘Yes.'

‘Am I being boring?'

He sighed. ‘No, don't be silly. I just think you should take your mind off it for a bit. Otherwise – I don't know, but I get into a loop of thinking about things and I just lie awake all night and worry about them. Don't do that.'

‘What do you worry about?'

He thought for a moment.

‘Ehm … what kind of cake is the best. What type are you eating?'

I gave up. ‘Vanilla slice.'

‘Is it the best?'

‘Possibly … sometimes it runs a close thing with French cake. And birthday cake. And strawberry tarts.'

‘See? It never ends.'

And gently, we drifted into normal talk – not emotional, not coy, just talking quietly – even giggling
occasionally. The cake shop was empty and waiting to close up, but outside the darkness was all around and here, in this little pool of light, we were safe and comfortable and we didn't want to leave. There were enough things outside to make us cold.

I arrived home later, feeling more at peace. Linda was in the sitting room watching
Titanic
. Tears were dripping off her pudgy nose. Wordlessly, I went and sat beside her on the sofa. A complete first, she put out her hand. I took it, and moved closer. Finally, as the ship went down, I rested my head on her shoulder.

‘But you still have to go away this weekend,' she said stiffly.

I'd forgotten that. Damn. Where the hell was I going to go? My parents, I supposed. I wasn't looking forward to answering the question, ‘So, how's your love life, darling?'

‘You don't need to go till Saturday morning.'

I thanked her for her magnanimity and sloped off to bed, where I lay for several hours plotting scenes of deadly revenge on Alex and Fran before finally sinking into an exhausted sleep.

No one was at work. Some people had left for early Christmas breaks, and quite a few more – mostly connected with financial services, I was unsurprised to hear – were recovering from the party.

Neither Janie nor Steve had made it in, but Steve
had left a message on my voice mail saying, ‘Tell Flavi we're not coming in because we're too busy SHAGGING.' And I could hear Janie screaming with laughter in the background, shouting, ‘And if James rings, tell him to FUCK OFF!'

Poor James has been through quite enough already, I thought. Mad pair of bastards! I did miss them, though, in an odd way. The less people around, the more time I had to dwell on the situation, and that was no fun.

Neither Fran nor Alex had rung me. Alex must have finally got the message it was over. He'd given up awfully quickly, though. Not, I sternly told myself, that that made any difference. I might never see the two of them again. Not too soon for me.

I'd phoned my mother, who of course knew that it was the big day on Saturday (the whole town did, this was the closest Woking got to society – unless you counted Paul Weller, who was born there and spent the rest of his life making disparaging remarks about the place), and couldn't understand why I wasn't going. I hadn't told her the whole truth, naturally. I told her we'd fallen out, in a kind of equal opportunities way.

‘Oh, remember when you lost your purse and you all fell out about who had it? The three of you made that up in the blink of an eye.'

‘Mum, Amanda took that purse and said if we didn't make friends with her again she'd have one of Year Seven beat us up.'

She ignored me. ‘I'm sure you'll sort it out, whatever it is. Oh, Amanda's going to be such a lovely bride.
Always was so pretty, and so tiny.'

‘And a witch.'

‘What's that, darling? Oh, do come home, we're dying to see you. You can tell us all your news … How's your exciting new job going? Come and stay with us. But do go to the wedding – you'll regret it if you don't. Derek Phillips certainly knows how to splash out when he wants to!'

‘Thanks, Mum. I'm not going to go, and that's that. But I'll see you about lunch time, Saturday?'

‘Fine, fine, we'll see you then.'

And she tutted sorrowfully that I would dare to miss such a glorious occasion.

I woke up extremely early on Saturday with a sore head and a deep sense of foreboding. As consciousness returned, I realized what day it was, and my heart dropped like a stone. I hugged my duvet and told myself not to be so bloody silly. It was just a normal day, I would get up, go home and be nice to my mum for a change, instead of a bit sulky. Maybe do some shopping and watch a bit of TV. No problem.

Really, I wanted to lie face-down on the floor and kick and scream and have the mother of all tantrums. But no. I would get up, wash, and dress demurely, then go out and face the world with calm and ease. Alex and Fran might well turn up to the wedding together. Well, that would be lovely for them. I hoped they'd all have a lovely day. Even when the smoke alarms went
off, I'm sure that would not stop things too much – and how they would all laugh about it in the years to come, one great big circle of friends. Perhaps Alex and Fran and Amanda and Fraser's children would all play together. They'd probably go on holiday too. How lovely lovely lovely.

Next door, I could hear the sound of shifting furniture. What on earth was Linda doing in there? I yawned, and shook my head to wake myself.

BRRRRRINNG! The doorbell went off with its usual soul-jerking intensity. BRRING! BRRIING! BRRING! That didn't sound like the fat postman. It better not be Alex. Grimly, I pulled on my pyjamas and got up to answer it. Linda poked her shiny face round the living-room door, obviously concerned that I might be disobeying her mandate. I waved at her and peered through the letter box. It was Angus.

‘What is it?' I yelled.

‘Can I come in?'

I pondered it for a bit.

‘Why?'

‘Let me in and I'll tell you!'

‘What if it's a double-bluff?'

‘What on earth are you talking about?'

I didn't know, so I opened the door and let him in. His mischievous smile left his face when he saw me.

‘Jings, what's the matter with you? You look like you've been up a wall crying for a week.'

‘How intuitive. What are you doing here? Haven't you got a wedding to attend?' I turned cold. ‘Have they called it off?'

‘Not as far as I know.'

‘Oh.' I looked at him hazily.

‘Have you just woken up?'

‘Ehm, yes. Sorry. Nice kilt. Would you like a coffee?'

He looked at his watch. ‘OK. Hi, Linda!'

Linda squeaked like a cross mouse and disappeared.

‘I'm not supposed to be here,' I whispered. ‘I told her I'd clear out today.'

‘Because you're going to the wedding.'

‘Of course I'm not going to the fucking wedding.'

He followed me into the kitchen. ‘Oh, yes, hum, yes, in fact you are. Fraser told me everything. That's why I'm here. To pick you up. You have to come with me.'

I put the kettle on and turned to face him.

‘Sorry. Much as I'd like to help you out on your bob-a-job week, (1) I'm definitely not coming, and (2) I'm not even invited.'

Angus ignored me, and got the cups down while I put the kettle on. In fact, he whistled a happy tune. Finally, we sat down. The kitchen table had disappeared. I ignored this fact, given that my world was already odd enough and I was having breakfast with a man in a skirt.

Angus sat down and continued whistling quietly until it became intensely irritating.

‘Stop it,' I announced. ‘I am
so
not coming to this wedding, it doesn't matter how much you whistle.'

He kept on whistling. ‘I need to take a guest.'

‘Take Kylie Minogue.'

He resumed whistling.

‘I bet Alex won't be there,' he said between bars and contemplative sips of his coffee.

‘I don't care.'

‘Or Fran.' The melody had changed to ‘Over the Sea to Skye'.

‘I double don't care.'

‘Come on. Get changed. I've hired a car, so it won't take that long to get down there.'

‘No, it won't take you long at all. When you leave, now, and leave me alone.' I crossed my hands over my chest protectively. ‘And stop whistling.'

He stopped obediently, and just sat there, waiting.

‘Why do you want me to come, anyway? I'm not letting off any of your bloody smoke bombs.'

He shrugged. ‘I want you to. And I think you should. So, you should come with me.'

My heart quickened a little. ‘It'll be awful. Everyone there will know that my boyfriend's having it off with my best friend.'

‘No they won't. And if they do, they won't care.'

‘Amanda will be killing herself laughing.'

‘I think Amanda's got enough on her mind, don't you?'

‘S'pose … Oh, I can't, Angus. I can't go and watch two people pledge their troths or whatever the hell it is they're doing, and have the happiest fucking day of their lives while I'm in absolute hell. I'll just be sitting there weeping my head off. And I can do that on my own, thank you. I'd probably snort just when they got to their “I do”s and snotter all over the wedding cake.'

‘That would fit in nicely,' said Angus.

‘Don't tease me. I'm not coming and that's that. I am going to my mother's to talk about baking cakes and then eat some, hopefully.'

He nodded. ‘You're coming.'

‘What are you going to do, kidnap me?'

‘You have to come. For two reasons. One, to hold your head high, and to say, fine, all this crap is finished with, look at me, I have survived, blah blah blah. You have to. You'll get a kick out of yourself. You'll be proud of it for years afterwards.'

Hmm. ‘What's the other reason?'

He looked at me.

‘I really, really want you to. And I really, really want you to come with me. Which you knew. But which you still asked. Which proves that you're teasing me. Which proves that you're not too depressed to leave the house. Which means you're coming.'

We stared at each other for a long time. I dropped my eyes first. His intense blue gaze didn't falter. My heart beat faster and faster.

‘I … er …' I cleared my throat. ‘I don't think I've anything to wear.'

He grinned broadly at my capitulation. ‘Come in your pyjamas, I won't care.'

‘Yes, but you're wearing a skirt.'

‘Wear whatever you like. Doesn't matter to me. I think you're pretty anyway.'

He thinks I'm pretty
! I thought to myself, suddenly jubilant. Then:
As if I'm little girl enough to fall for that one
. Then:
What the hell?

‘Ehm, OK, I'll … go and see what I can find.'

He nodded, as if he'd known all along, which he probably had.

‘Fine. I'll put the kettle on again. Linda, would you like some tea? We'll be gone soon.'

‘No thank you,' came the muffled reply, closely followed by some hammering. What was she doing in there?

In my room, I sat down on my futon and thought long and hard. I was incredibly excited. The urge … to do something, to have something happen … rose so strongly in me it was like a tidal wave. My stomach rumbled with anxiety.

I had been lying when I said I didn't have anything to wear. I had an old brocade dress in a deep mulberry colour, which I'd got cleaned the week before when Alex and I were busy preparing for things – ha. I slipped into it, and put on some twenties button-style shoes. No hat, but I had a matching ribbon to keep my curls out of the way. Dressing, I took a quick glance in the mirror. I did look pretty, for once. Good. My cheeks were flushed and my eyes sparkled. I was so excited I kept missing the buttons on the sleeve, but, finally, I was ready.

Angus was waiting for me. ‘God, you look gorgeous,' he said.

‘Thank you very much. So do you,' I replied, and he did cut a very handsome and sturdy figure in his kilt.

‘Do you want me to phone your mother and tell her you're not coming?'

God, I'd nearly forgotten all about her.

‘Ehm, unless you want the Spanish Inquisition as to who on earth you are and why are you kidnapping my youngest, then I'd say you probably shouldn't.'

I phoned her. She'd bought lots of baking materials, but sounded much happier that I was going to the wedding and that we'd all made up at last.

‘Who knows – maybe you'll meet a nice man there,' she said.