Bound by Ivy (25 page)

78

I put a hand to my mouth, and feel silly tears leaking from my eyes. ‘Oh my god. Marc? Is this—’

He nods.
‘Sophia Rose, will you marry me?’

He opens the box, and I see the
ring – the beautiful antique diamond ring that Marc presented me with all those months ago.

My lips are
all soft under my fingers, and I feel myself nodding hard.

‘Yes,’
I splutter, offering my tear-covered hand forwards. ‘Yes, of course I’ll marry you.’

Marc
lips lift into the most beautiful smile. He slides the ring onto my finger, kisses my knuckles, then sweeps me into his arms.

I’m
weeping and spluttering, unable to put words together for a little while. Finally, I manage to mumble into Marc’s shoulder, ‘I should phone Jen. Tell her the good news.’

‘You
might want to hold off on that,’ says Marc, ‘until you see your visitors.’

‘Visitors?’ I wipe
tears away. I’m a mess of red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Marc smiles. ‘I think
you’ll be pretty familiar with them.’

As if on cue
, the doorbell rings

‘Perhaps the lady of the house should answer that,’ says Marc.

I throw him a curious sideways smile and go the door. When I pull it open, my smile gets so big that it practically reaches my ears.

There, on the doorstep, are
Jen, Dad, Sammy, Denise, Tom, Tanya and Annabel.

‘Oh my ... wow!’ I say. ‘Did Marc ... do you all know about ...?’

Everyone’s vigorous nodding cuts me off.

‘We know,’ says Jen, throwing her arms around my neck and covering me in perfume. ‘Marc made extra sure he had all the right approvals this time. Congratulations.’

‘
And you all gave the okay?’I ask.

‘Everyone one of us,’ says Dad. ‘
The two of you have our complete blessing. I couldn’t wish for a better man to take care of my daughter.’

‘Thanks Dad.’ I throw my
arms around him. He hugs me, and when I step back I see tears in his eyes. ‘Are you okay, Dad?’

Dad nods, looking away and dabbing at his eyes. ‘Fine, fine. Just ... my
little girl, getting married. All grown up.’

‘You should
come inside,’ I say, shepherding everyone into the house. ‘Tom. Tanya. I can’t believe it’s been so long. What with the show, and then recovering, and home-making and everything, I—’

‘
We know,’ says Tanya, giving me a hug. ‘Don’t worry. We understand.’

Tom wheels
up to pat my shoulder. ‘We’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you guys too,’ I say. ‘
But I’m so happy for you both. Denise tells me you’re still very much in love.’

Tanya tu
rns scarlet.

Tom grins from ear to ear. ‘
Very
much in love. And hope to be for the rest of our lives.’

‘Really? Does that mean you might be getting
—’

‘No
,’ Tanya interrupts. ‘No need to rush into anything. We’ll finish college before we start thinking about anything like that.’

‘Promise you’ll i
nvite me when you finally
do
decide to get married,’ I say, with a teasing smile.

‘Of cou
rse!’ says Tom.

Tanya rolls her eyes
. ‘Thanks for that. He’ll be looking at wedding suits before you know it.’

‘
Speaking of weddings,’ I say. ‘Jen and Tanya, would you do me the honour of being my bridesmaids?’

‘As if you even need to ask,’ says Jen.

Tanya grins. ‘Of course, Soph!’

‘And Tom, I’d like you to be my bridesmaid too,’ I add.

Tom laughs
. ‘Sophia, perhaps you’re a little confused. It may not be obvious to everyone, considering my flamboyant choice of outfits, but I’m a man.’

Tanya and I laugh.

‘I know,’ I say. ‘But I think we can break with tradition for your sake.’

‘I’d be delighted to be your bridesmaid,’ says Tom. ‘But I have another idea. How about I co
nduct the ceremony? I did it for my cousin last year, so I’m very familiar with the procedure. I’d be delighted to stand before you and Marc and help you say your vows.’

I smile. ‘I can’t think of anything more perfect.’

‘Who would have thought it?’ says Tom. ‘Sophia Rose marrying Marc Blackwell. And living happily ever after.’

Once we’re inside the house, we all sit on Mum’s sofa and the collection of thrift-store armchairs I’ve reupholstered. Marc and I are squeezed onto an armchair, me on his lap, our fingers woven tightly together.

Rodney
brings in a tray of tea and freshly baked shortbread biscuits.

‘Soph?’ Jen asks. ‘Will you be inviting Leo to the wedding?’

‘I hadn’t even thought about who I was going to invite,’ I admit. ‘But ... yes, of course I’ll invite Leo. He’s my friend. A good friend. And that’s exactly who I want at the wedding. Good friends.’ I turn to Marc. ‘Are you okay with that?’

‘I’m okay with that,’ says Marc, his blue eyes flashing me a beautifu
lly intense look.

‘Honestly?’

‘Honestly. The more friends you have, the more people are around to take care of you.’

I turn back to Jen. ‘
So there you go. You can bring your date along.’

We smile at each other, both knowing that Leo is much more than Jen’s date these days. The two of them can’t stay away from each other. Leo has bought an apartment in London, and Jen spends almost every night there.

As we’re all chatting and catching up, I notice Annabel is a little quiet – but happy quiet. She’s had a smile on her face since she arrived on the doorstep.

Eventually, my curiosity gets the better of me. ‘Annabel?’ I ask. ‘
Social services were going to give you an update this week. Have they called you?’

‘Yes.
’

‘And?’

‘It’s good news. But I’ll tell you another time. This is your big moment.’

‘
Don’t be silly,’ I say. ‘Just tell me your news.’

Annabel’s smile grows, and for the first tim
e since I’ve met her, I see teeth appear from behind her lips. They’re white and straight like Marc’s.

‘I’m getting Daniel back.’

I screech and throw my hand to my mouth. ‘Oh my GOD! Annabel, that’s wonderful. So, so wonderful.’

I head towards her and give her a big hug
. She starts crying, and I feel warm tears on my own cheeks too.

‘It was all thanks to you,’ Annabel
whispers, her voice croaky with tears.

‘No,’ I
insist. ‘You’ve beaten a drug that kills most people. And you’ve proven you’re strong enough to be a mother. I’m so happy for you.’

79

A few weeks later, my head is swimming with wedding plans. I never knew there was so much to organise.

I’m
so grateful Jen is my friend. She’s good at all the things I’m really bad at, like planning and organisation, and she knows all the things that are needed at weddings, like cake and photographers and invitations.

I’ve tried to keep everything as simple as possible, but there’s still a lot to do. I never realised a wedding was so much work.

Jen has been going on and on at me about choosing a venue, and over the weekend I finally worked out the perfect place. The only place, in fact, where I could imagine marrying Marc.

‘
Are you absolutely sure about this?’ Jen asks, her high heels stumbling over the muddy ground. ‘This is where you want your wedding? Your once in a lifetime, big show off party?’

‘Positive,’ I say, linking arms with her. ‘Wait until you see exactly where I want the ceremony. You’ll love it too.’

I lead her along the woodland path, past bright green feathering ferns and under towering trees.

Jen sighs. ‘You and your trees, Sophia Rose. You could get married anywhere. Anywhere in the world. Your boyfriend is a billionaire. And where do you choose? The woods behind Ivy College.’

I smile. ‘I know. Isn’t it perfect? Come on.’ I lead Jen further into the woods. ‘I can’t wait for you to see the spot.’

Jen folds up her linen suit trousers, rolls her eyes good-naturedly
and follows me along the path.

The path weaves a
round a huge sycamore tree, then opens out into the most amazing circular space, under a beautiful canopy of trees.

‘This is it,’ I say, standing back so Jen can see the space. ‘This is where I want to get married.

My mum used to call spaces like these ‘fairy circles’. They’re natural round clearings in the woods, and they’re always surrounded by wild flowers and green shoots of grass.

Birds twitter and hop
among the branches overhead, and a squirrel scurries up a tree as we approach.

We both stand f
or a moment under the bright green leaves, listening to bird song and smelling leaves and fresh soil.

‘Soph,’ Jen breathes. ‘It’s absolutely perfect. So beautiful.’

‘I thought we could marry in the woods,’ I say, ‘and then have a picnic on the lawns around the college. It’s the summer holidays, so the college is empty. All the guests can stay in the visitor accommodation block.’

‘Oh Soph,
that sounds brilliant,’ says Jen. ‘Truly. Of course, we’ll have to have marquees on standby in case it rains. And some sort of contingency plan in case the paths here get too muddy—’

‘It won’t rain,’ I say
. ‘I know it won’t.’

80

When it comes to the night before the wedding, I don’t want to be separated from Marc until the last possible moment.

I’m booked into
the Ambassador Room at Ivy College so I won’t have to travel on my wedding day, but Marc is staying there with me until midnight. We’ve had enough separation this year to last a lifetime.

When Marc
and I arrive at the room, I’m blown away. It’s a huge ground floor suite that overlooks the lawns and woodlands, and it has ‘his and her’ bathrooms and a huge Jacuzzi pool.

‘This is
beautiful,’ I tell Marc, as he places my rucksack on the leather luggage rack.

I notice a huge white cellophane bag on my bed
and run my fingers over the thick plastic.

My wedding dress
has been delivered.

‘
Don’t go peaking in this bag, will you?’ I tease, picking up the hanger and heading for the wardrobe. ‘I’m superstitious, if you hadn’t worked it out already.’

‘I’m fully aware of your superstitions,’ says Marc, raising an eyebrow. ‘If it was down to me, we’d be sleeping in the same bed tonight.’

He’s wearing loose grey cargo trousers and a plain black hoodie. I love that he can transform from James Bond smart to action hero casual, and still look equally mesmerising and handsome.

I’m wearing a light summer dres
s made of crumpled linen fabric and embroidered with butterflies.

My feet are bare, since I kicked off my sandals the moment we came into the room. I love having bare feet in summer.

My hair is loosely plaited down my back, but as usual, some of it is struggling to escape, and tendrils fall around my face.

‘Why tempt bad luck?’
I say.

‘I don’t believe in bad luck. Not with you around.’

Marc opens the French doors and leads me onto the huge ground-floor balcony.

When I
see what’s waiting on the wooden table outside, I put a hand to my mouth.

‘Marc.’

Resting on the
varnished wood, beside a bottle of red wine and two gleaming glasses, is an astonishingly beautiful bouquet of flowers.

‘Your wedding bouquet,’ says Marc with a smile. ‘You don’t believe it’s bad luck for the groom to see
the bouquet before the wedding, do you?’

The bouquet is a soft and glimmering orb of ivy, woven with the re
ddest roses I’ve ever seen. The ivy and roses are so fresh and natural looking it’s as if the bouquet could be growing wild in the woods.

‘No.
’ I shake my head. ‘That’s one superstition I’ve never heard of.’

81

We drink wine and
watch the sun set over Ivy College.

It’s a beautiful warm evening, and the red sky tells me what I
already knew – that tomorrow will be perfect sunshine for our wedding.

Marc and I
talk and tease and laugh about how we first met. Thinking back to those early days feels so unreal now. It’s almost like we’re two different people.

‘
Tell me again what you thought of me at my audition,’ I ask Marc, with a teasing smile.

‘You know what I thought
of you,’ says Marc, pouring more wine into my glass. ‘I thought you were astonishing.’

I grin. ‘Funny. Because you couldn’t have been
colder towards me. I thought you were angry with me. That my audition hadn’t pleased you.’

‘I was a master at hiding my feelings back the
n,’ says Marc. ‘But now, I’m not so good.’ He takes my hands and begins running his thumbs back and forth over my palms, pressing in hard, firm strokes. ‘Do you want to know what I’m feeling right now?’ His eyes have that primal, hunter look in them.

I laugh. ‘It’s pretty obvious.’

‘I’ll be gentle. I promise.’

‘Y
ou don’t have to be.’

Ever since Marc rescued me from PAIN and moved me into the farmhouse, we’ve had the most amazing, loving, caring sex, and it’s been very beautiful. But ... I
like the other side of Marc too.

‘I’ve m
issed your dark side,’ I say.

Marc throws me that delicious, devili
sh smile of his. ‘My dark side?’

‘Yes. You
know what I mean.’

‘I thought. After PAIN ...’

‘What PAIN did is a world away from what we do together in the bedroom. You dominating me is part of who you are. Who
we
are. It’s why we fit so well.’

Marc frowns
. The square shape of his pale jaw and the sharp lines of his angular face are so beautiful in the setting sunlight. I find myself, as usual, slightly dazed by his handsomeness.

‘Come inside
,’ says Marc, his voice dropping several notes. ‘Now.’

He takes my hand.

I stand, following Marc inside. He closes the French doors and draws the curtains.

‘Hmmm ...’ Marc scoops me up and lays me onto
the bed. The linen is crisp and smells like apples. ‘Stay there for a moment. I’ll be back.’