Gypsy Wedding (19 page)

‘What brings you round here?’ asked Liam.

‘Is it suddenly against the law for a girl to want to see her fiancé?’

Liam put his saw down on the workbench and walked across the shed to her. ‘Of course not, hon.’ He took her in his arms and gave her a peck on the lips. ‘And isn’t my day brighter for seeing you.’

Vicky rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body through her thin jacket. She felt safe with him, secure, but where was that spark that she’d felt when Jordan had kissed her? She breathed in the woody smell that always surrounded Liam and told herself that there was no electric jolt because she didn’t feel guilty about him touching her. It was guilt that brought that on, pure and simple. It was nothing to do with animal attraction, it was just a plain old-fashioned feeling of sinfulness.

She snuggled closer to Liam. This was how life would be all the time once she was married. She wouldn’t have to worry about stupid spiteful girls like Chloe ever again. She wouldn’t need to rely on guys like Jordan riding shotgun on her behalf. She wouldn’t have to leave the safety and security of the trailer park every day and face bullies alone. But she wouldn’t have college. She wouldn’t have Kelly. She wouldn’t have Jordan. With a jolt she realised that once she left college she’d probably never see Jordan again. That’d be awful.

She pushed herself away from Liam.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ she lied, riddled with guilt. What was she doing thinking about Jordan when she was in the arms of her future husband? What was she on? And of course she wouldn’t miss Jordan. No way. He meant nothing to her. But she knew she was lying to herself.

‘Then come here,’ said Liam, wrapping his arms around her yet again. ‘Just think, another couple of weeks and we’ll be able to say that we’re getting married
this
year. I can’t wait.’ He squeezed her tighter. ‘I don’t think any man could be happier than me.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Oh, Vicky, just six months and you and I are going to be man and wife. I can hardly believe my luck.’

Vicky longed to be able to say the same, but though she loved Liam, she just couldn’t bring herself to reply. Instead, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

The spring term at college began on a wet, miserable January day. If Vicky thought that the girls in her class might have changed their attitude over Christmas she was mistaken.

‘So much for the season of goodwill to all men,’ she mumbled under her breath as once again she sat alone on one side of the textiles room while the others crowded together on the other.

Mrs Mead went around the room handing back work that had been given in at the end of last term before letting the girls get on with their course work, which had to be finished for assessment later that week. She stopped by Vicky as she was sorting out some bits of scrap velvet she was planning on incorporating into a collage.

‘How was your Christmas?’ she asked.

‘Nice, thanks. Mum and Dad gave me a new sewing machine which is a huge improvement on my old treadle one.’

‘That’s fantastic.’

‘I’ll be able to get on with those dresses I’m making at home now. I won’t be in your hair as much, cluttering up your room.’

‘You’re never in the way. And don’t feel you have to work at home. It can’t be easy in a caravan – not a lot of space, I imagine.’

‘Well, you do have to be organised. And it is easier here. I can spread out and these tables are a better height to work at than the table at home.’

‘How many have you left to do?’

‘I’ve started the fifth so I’m almost there, but there’s a lot of other stuff happening and my sister—’ Vicky stopped and glanced across the room to see if any of the others was eavesdropping but they were all chatting with each other as they worked. ‘My sister is getting married too this summer so I’ve got my mum’s wedding outfits to make as well. Then there’s fittings for my dress and my exams coming up in a few months. I don’t have much spare time. Mind you, that’ll all change when I’m wed.’

‘Does it have to?’

Vicky nodded. ‘Lady of leisure then.’ She shrugged to make light of her impending situation.

‘Well, you know what I think about that,’ said Mrs Mead. She went off to supervise the other girls in their practical work.

When the bell went Vicky went to the big foyer to meet Kelly as they had arranged by text message the night before.

‘How’s tricks?’ asked Kelly.

‘Same old, same old. You?’

‘Met this great guy over Christmas. We’ve been out a couple of times.’

‘Oh yes? Did you go anywhere nice?’

‘Just the pub and the flicks but it was good. He keeps ringing me too. I think he’s keen.’

‘Sounds it.

‘He’s called Alex.’

‘Is he at college?’

‘No, he’s got a job. He stacks shelves in Tesco.’

‘Wow.’

The note of irony in Vicky’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. ‘Don’t knock it, at least he’s
got
a job, which is more than a lot of people can say, and because he works early mornings he’s free every night.’

Someone bumped into Vicky, knocking her bag off her shoulder and nearly sending her flying.

‘Oi!’ She spun round.

‘Watch where you’re going,’ said Chloe.

‘But … but …’

‘But what?’

‘But you knocked into
me
.’

‘Oh yeah?’ The girls with Chloe giggled and Chloe gave Vicky a cold stare, daring her to take her on.

Kelly took Vicky’s arm. ‘Don’t mind her, she’s not worth it.’

The two girls walked off together with Vicky shooting evil looks over her shoulder at her tormentor.

‘Seems like she’s back to her old ways again. Even she’s managed to work out that just ignoring me was a shit plan.’

As they walked away they heard a scuffle behind them. Vicky whirled around, sure it was Chloe coming to launch another attack.

‘You can’t talk to me like that,’ shrieked Chloe at Jordan, who had her by the arm. Chloe was trying to shake him off but from the whiteness of his knuckles his grip was firm.

‘I just have,’ he replied.

‘What is it with you?’ Chloe’s face was contorted with anger and her voice was shrill. It carried right across the foyer. ‘Why do you want to defend that tramp?’

‘She’s not a tramp.’

Chloe snorted. ‘Oh yeah? Of course she is. Everyone knows what girls like her are like.’ She looked directly at Vicky.

‘Don’t react,’ warned Kelly quietly in her ear.

‘If you say anything like that again,’ said Jordan in a low but dangerous voice, ‘you and I are finished. Understand?’

Chloe paled. ‘You don’t mean that?’

‘Try me.’

Chloe shot Vicky a look of pure venom as if to say that it was all
her
fault that Jordan was angry before she stormed off.

Jordan came over to join the two girls.

‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘Don’t apologise for her,’ said Vicky. ‘It’s not your fault she’s a cow.’

‘I mean it, though, if she has another go at you I’ll dump her.’

‘Don’t break up with her on my account.’

‘I won’t. I mean – I don’t want to go out with someone who behaves like that. I’ll give her one more chance, and then …’ He shrugged and turned away.

‘I don’t know if that has made things better or worse,’ said Vicky to Kelly in a low voice.

‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ said Kelly.

And although Vicky loved Kelly for her solidarity she couldn’t help feeling there wasn’t much ‘we’ about the situation. Vicky reckoned that the only person who would really be finding out how Chloe was going to react to that little showdown was just her.

Over the next days and weeks Vicky was increasingly busy, what with her course work and her efforts to get the last few of the bridesmaids’ dresses finished. Once she’d done that she would have to start on the seven huge underskirts but she was leaving that task till the very last minute as storing them was going to be a problem. Kelly had suggested that she might be able to put them in her parents’ loft – which, if they agreed, would be a terrific solution. Although quite how Kelly was going to explain to her mum and dad that she was being a bridesmaid at a traveller girl’s wedding was a bridge neither of them knew how to cross.

As dull, gloomy January morphed into a bitterly cold and wet February, it sometimes seemed to Vicky that she had no spare time for herself. When she wasn’t finishing off course work, she was making her bridesmaids’ dresses, and when she wasn’t doing either of those things she had her chores around the home to be getting on with. The dank weather made keeping the trailer spotless an uphill battle as the family weren’t inclined to spend more time outside in the cold than was absolutely necessary and the mud they tramped in, coupled with the fact that her brothers were frequently underfoot, made all the housework take twice as long as it seemed to in the summer. Spare moments for going out and enjoying herself with her traveller friends and relations were rare indeed and even rarer were the few snatched moments she got to share with Liam. It was almost as if they were living in different countries, not on different sides of the trailer park.

On one of the rare occasions when they managed to get together Liam had presented her with a little jewellery box that he’d made himself.

‘I made it so when you look at it in the morning, you think about me,’ he’d told her with a smile.

Vicky was so touched by the gesture she almost cried, and he was right: whenever she used the box, she always thought of him, and often felt a little jab of guilt if they hadn’t met up that day.

What with one thing and another Vicky found herself on the go from the moment she woke up each day till the moment when she flopped, shattered, into bed. As a result, she sometimes found herself wishing that her wedding day would hurry up and arrive – at least when she was married she would just have to look after Liam and everything else that made her life so crowded now would cease to exist.

Really, she thought as she cleaned the windows, her life after June would be a breeze compared to what she was trying to squeeze in now. Of course she’d miss college, Kelly and Jordan, but she wouldn’t miss coping with the petty bullying that she had to put up with there. And she’d miss learning the skills that Mrs Mead taught her but she wouldn’t miss sewing bridesmaids’ dresses. Frankly, if she never saw another piece of green silk again in her life she’d be happy. And she’d miss sharing a room with Shania and a home with her family but there was no denying the thrill that coursed through her every time she thought about sharing a trailer – and a bed – with Liam.

A bed – with Liam.

‘What’s it like?’ she asked Kelly over lunch one day.

‘What?’

‘Sex,’ whispered Vicky.

Kelly giggled. ‘It depends,’ she replied. ‘My first time was rubbish. And it hurt.’ Vicky was amazed by Kelly’s frankness and lack of embarrassment but also reassured. It was great that she could talk to Kelly about anything – even sex. ‘The bloke I was with – Bradley – didn’t have a clue and neither did I. All that stuff about your first time being special is a load of bollocks. It took him about five seconds to come and left me feeling as if I’d completely missed out. What a let-down.’

‘Oh.’ This wasn’t what Vicky wanted to hear.

‘But then I went with another bloke, Nick, and he knew what he was doing. That was okay.’

‘Okay?’
Okay
didn’t seem to suggest the sort of mind-blowing experience she’d read about.

‘Well, pretty good really.’

Getting better. ‘So what’s an orgasm like?’

‘Oooh, lovely. It makes you feel all warm and sort of shaky.’ Kelly looked at her. ‘Haven’t you – you know,’ she grinned naughtily, ‘done a DIY job?’

Vicky felt her face flaming. ‘My God no! It’s a mortal sin.’

‘Crap,’ said Kelly robustly. ‘And it doesn’t make you blind neither. Blimey, if it did I’d be needing a Labrador and a white stick.’

‘Kelly!’

‘Well, I would,’ she said with another cheeky smile. ‘Anyway, this isn’t about me. You ought to have a go. At least then you’d know what you ought to be aiming for. If you know what you’re doing you can help him press the right buttons. In my experience, men don’t have a clue.’

Which made sense, but all of Vicky’s Catholic upbringing told her she shouldn’t.
It would be
, she thought,
as sinful as sex before marriage and that is never going to happen either
. She and Liam would just have to take their chances on their wedding night.
At least
, she reasoned,
if it’s rubbish to start with, I’ll be having rubbish sex with lovely Liam so that won’t be so bad
.

The pressure to get her course work finished meant that Vicky spent more and more time in the textiles room. Her new sewing machine at home was fabulous and she loved it but it still wasn’t up to the standard of the ones in college. The downside of this was that she had less time to spend in the college canteen chatting with Kelly over cups of coffee but the upside was her path crossed Chloe’s much less frequently. When they did meet it seemed Chloe never missed an opportunity to give her the evils but, as Vicky told herself, a filthy look never hurt anyone. But Chloe was never able to do more than that because it seemed that Jordan was always hovering nearby, ready to distract Chloe or to keep an eye on her. Vicky did wonder once or twice if Jordan was looking out for her on purpose but dismissed it straight away. Why would he? If he was always there when Chloe pitched up it was because he was Chloe’s boyfriend, that was all. Of course, he’d be hanging around with her. But, nevertheless, there was something in the way he looked at Vicky, almost apologetic, which didn’t quite make sense to her. Not that she had time to worry about Jordan and Chloe, no way. She had far too much to be getting on with.