Strangers (2 page)

Charlie sniggered.
“Shall I get them?”

“Don’t bother.
They were only cheap and it probably wouldn’t have worked.”

And if I’m dead, I won’t need them anyway.
The sky darkened and Kate yelped when a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
The water had grown choppier, waves breaking in their faces.

“I think someone’s pissed off we’ve changed our minds.” Charlie coughed.

Kate spat out water after a wave crashed into her face.
“Do you think the beach is getting nearer?”

“No.”

“We must be caught in a current.”

“Swim harder,” he said, “but parallel to the beach.”

Kate wondered what she was doing, struggling to stay afloat when the whole point of today had been to sink.
Perhaps she didn’t want this as much as she thought.
Maybe she was already dead and being punished for killing herself, doomed to a perpetual struggle in a wild sea with a gorgeous but aggravating man.

“Are you an angel?” she blurted.

“No.”

“Devil?”

“Hmm.
Stop talking, keep swimming.”

Kate concentrated on taking a breath between the waves.
Keeping herself afloat and snatching mouthfuls of air was as much as she could manage.
She wasn’t sure how long passed before she realized Charlie wasn’t with her.
She spun in a circle.

“Charlie!
Charlie!
Charlie!”

The peaks and troughs had become more extreme, rain reducing the visibility to a few yards.
Kate couldn’t tell the difference between the sky and the sea, like she’d been trapped in one of Turner’s paintings with no detail, only color to express mood.
Every time she tried to gulp air, she swallowed water.
Kate coughed, choked and screamed for Charlie.
She’d turned in circles looking for him and now the beach was lost.

“Charlie!”

When she caught sight of his white face at the crest of a curling wave, Kate swam frantically in his direction, fighting the water to get to his side.
Through her stinging eyes, Kate saw him swimming toward her.

“I thought I’d lost you.” She reached out to touch him.

He coughed and spat out water.
“I’m hard to get rid of.
I’m so fucking cold and tired.
This was supposed to be what I wanted, only now I don’t.”

Beneath the shadow of his unshaven face, his skin appeared almost translucent.
The hollows below his cheekbones looked deeper, as though he was turning into a corpse in front of her.

“Keep swimming,” Kate said.

“Which way?
Where’s the fucking beach?”

“I don’t know.”

They looked at each other and Charlie gave a wry smile.
“Maybe we weren’t meant to change our minds.”

He held his hand above the water and Kate reached for his white fingers.

“Don’t let me go,” she gasped.

“Don’t let
me
go,” Charlie said.

And they let the sea choose whether or not it wanted to keep them.

Chapter Two

Kate’s Story

“Guess what?” said Lucy, occupier of apartment four, Elm Gardens, Greenwich, below Kate in number five.

“What?” asked Kate.

Pinball Lucy barged into Kate’s apartment and bulldozed through to the lounge.

“I’ve got us press tickets to a new venue in Knightsbridge.”

“No thanks,” Kate said.

“It’s called ‘The Wedding Party’.”

“Not interested.”

The two words bounced off Lucy.

“It’s going to be great,” Lucy said.
“Of course you want to go.”

Kate finished washing the dishes.
“No, I don’t.”

“Obviously I haven’t made this sound enticing enough.
Listen to the publicity handout.
‘
The evening is a cross between a mock wedding reception and a dating event. Whilst enjoying a wedding-themed comedy dinner
’, which is going to be a load of laughs, ‘
you also get the chance to meet new people
.’ Isn’t that a great idea?”

“No.” Kate began to clean the handles on the kitchen cupboards.

Lucy’s shoulders dropped.
“Why not?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, trying to pair up singles at a dysfunctional wedding?”

Lucy thought about it and then shrugged.
“The tickets are free.”

“No.” Kate moved on to the skirting boards.

“There’s a seven-course banquet and unlimited booze.”

That was tempting but—“No.”

“It’s going to be a fun, drunken night out,” Lucy said in exasperation.

“Not a desperate search by desperate single men and desperate single women?”

“Well, I’m not single,” Lucy said.

“And I’m desperate
and
single?” Kate pulled the vacuum cleaner out of the cupboard.

“Course not.
Rachel and Dan are going.
Please?”

Kate gave in.

And found out on the way there, that Dan who lived next to Kate in number six, and Rachel who lived below in number three, only agreed to go because Lucy told them Kate would only go if they did.

“You conniving little minx,” Dan said.

Lucy grinned.
“Hey, I can’t help being persistent and persuasive.
If I listened when people said no, I’d never have got the job with Metro Radio.”

Since Lucy was now going out with married boss Nick, Kate wondered how persistent and persuasive she’d really had to be.

When the four of them walked into the wedding marquee, erected inside a building, their jaws dropped.
Acres of glittering white material covered the walls, while above their heads thousands of lights twinkled in a black canopy.
Each circular table had eight silver chairs, and above the center of each table three red heart-shaped balloons were anchored by melting ice sculptures.
The entwined bride and groom had already morphed into a risqué pose.

A microphone squawked and a disembodied voice instructed the women to find their seats and the men to stand together at the far side of the room.

“I hope they don’t pick Nick,” Lucy whispered.

“But he’d choose you,” Kate said.

Lucy’s eyes widened.
“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Kate watched the circle of light dance from one man’s face to another.
Each time the light paused, the reaction was different—pleased, horrified, smug, cross, oblivious.
When the light landed on Dan, he looked so terrified, Kate sniggered.
Then the spotlight did a wild dance, anticipation heightened by a long taped fanfare before the light settled.
As the guy walked forward, Kate applauded with everyone else.
He was good-looking, tall, with neat brown hair, very white teeth and a square jaw.
He also had a nervous smile on his face.

“Pick me, pick me,” Rachel said.

Kate glanced at her friend.
She had straight brown hair that fell to her shoulders and curled out at the edges.
Her nose turned up and her lips were red and full.
She stared at the guy and hovered above her seat in an attempt to look taller.
On the opposite side of the table, Lucy gazed in a different direction.
She didn’t want to be picked because it wasn’t Nick doing the choosing, but who could resist her long, white-blonde hair, bright blue eyes and cheekbones sharp enough to slice Parma ham.

Grabbing her champagne flute, Kate sank as far down under the tablecloth as she could, which was not very far with a table leg wedged between her thighs.
She took a gulp of the tepid liquid and winced.
Not that she was an expert, but if this was champagne, she was a supermodel.
It was too sweet, too fizzy and had about as much alcohol as a sports drink.

“Oh my God, he’s coming this way,” Rachel squeaked.

Lucy, like Rachel, was now focused on the guy strolling past the seated women.
Kate took in their sultry smiles, promising pouts and fuck-me eyes and saw faces fade when he passed by.
He made straight for Kate’s table.
Lucy was pretty irresistible, only lover-boy Nick wouldn’t be too happy if she had to spend the evening being nice to another man.

It took Kate a moment to realize that someone was trying to pull her hand away from the edge of her chair.
Another moment before she registered that the guy with the square jaw and embarrassed smile had dropped down on one knee next to her and not next to Lucy, not even next to Rachel.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

Everyone in the room went wild, whooping and whistling for several seconds.

Kate’s champagne flute fell from her fingers.
She watched it tip over on the table.
The liquid sank into the pristine white cloth and spread like an orange fungus.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the stain.
Rachel poked her with a fork, hissing something in her ear.
Kate turned to look at the man who waited at her feet.
The uncomfortable look on his face became more evident as the seconds ticked by.
The room slipped into silence.
Everyone waited for her to speak.
The fork hit her again and she flinched.

“All right,” she forced out.

Her groom laughed.
He got to his feet, pulled her up and whirled her away from the table.

Kate had a few moments of pure panic when she couldn’t breathe.
He’d whisked her through a door, away from the noise and faces before she managed to fill her lungs.

“Christ, I thought for a minute you were going to say no.” He grinned at her, his smile a little off-center.

Kate swallowed hard.
She’d wanted to say no, been desperate to say no, had “no” on her lips, together with “pick Lucy, you idiot” or even “Rachel is desperate”, for which Rachel would never have forgiven her, but somehow “all right” had come out.

A man in black leather trousers and a frilly white dress shirt rushed down the corridor toward them.
He wore a headset with a microphone that curved across his cheek like a fat-headed black snake.

“Our very first happy couple.
Fabulous.
Follow me.”

He walked backward and Kate was tempted to do the same.

“I’m Chris.
Your names?”

“Richard Winter.”

“Kate Snow.”

Richard turned to Kate and gave her a cheesy grin.
“Hey, Winter and Snow on the hottest day of the year.
Definitely destiny.”

His eyes crinkled and she smiled back.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” Richard said, “because you know what?
I really want to marry you.”

Kate laughed.
This might turn out to be fun, she thought, though if she’d had a choice, she’d have turned him down.
When she’d agreed to come with Lucy and the others, it never crossed her mind she might be chosen as the bride.
Now she felt obliged to go through with it.
Kate didn’t like to let people down.

She and her groom were ushered into separate rooms.
“Strip,” was the first word Kate heard.

The organizers talked to her and the bridesmaids as they got ready, told them what they had to do and gave them some idea of what to expect, though not all of it, because they wanted spontaneous reactions.
Kate wished she could spontaneously combust before she threw up and they freaked out.
The first-night nerves of those running the event rubbed off on Kate and the others.
When Chris reminded them how many of their friends and colleagues were out there, they’d all turned pale.

“The press don’t care who they murder,” Chris said.

Kate was levered into her dress, the largest thing she’d ever seen, layer upon layer of white fluff.
She looked like an upside down stick of cotton candy at best and at worst like Barbie’s grumpy, ugly sister.
The woman messing with Kate’s hair swore when it failed to flatten, and eventually gave up.
Kate smiled to think at least her hair had a mind of its own.
A sparkling princess tiara was pinned on her head and a short stiff veil fastened in place.

By Kate’s side, the three bridesmaids had been zippered into puff-sleeved, scoop-necked, flowered monstrosities in lime green, fuchsia pink and muddy brown.
You don’t need adjectives with brown, Kate thought.
She watched in sympathy as Brown burst into tears, consoled by a relieved Pink and Green.

Back in the main room, everyone applauded their entrance.
Kate knew her cheeks approached the shade of the carpet, but she kept her head up and strolled toward the spot where her groom and the make-believe vicar stood waiting.
The Wedding March blared out, interrupted every couple of seconds by a static-strewn police radio transmission concerning a raid on a massage parlor.

When her husband-for-the-evening turned to look at her, Kate’s breath caught in her throat.
Richard wore a tuxedo with a neon pink bowtie.
He looked gorgeous and genuinely thrilled at the sight of her.
So Kate didn’t understand why there was a voice in her head telling her to do a Julia Roberts and get the hell out of there.

The vicar hiccupped and stuttered through the service.
He got their names wrong and the words, switching between a christening and a wedding.
When the humiliation was over, the bride and groom were seated at a long top table.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d get married today,” Richard said.

Kate didn’t think she’d ever get married.
“What made you choose me?”

“That wince you gave when you took a mouthful of this crap.” He lifted his champagne glass.

That serves me right
.
She was usually much better at hiding her feelings.

“So what does my wife do for a living?
Anchor for the six o’clock news?
Political correspondent for
The Times
?
Gossip columnist for the
Sun?
”

“Waitress.”

There was a pause.
Kate knew he either wished he’d picked someone more interesting or was waiting for her to ask what he did.
She kept silent, wondering if he’d pass the test.

“I’m an investment banker.”

Failed it.

“But I have a feeling that when we hear the best man’s speech, he’ll have invented a more interesting career for me.
Your father for you too, probably, but I am in banking, honestly.
I’m afraid I’m a boring shit.”

Maybe she’d judged him too quickly.

“I’m glad I picked you.
You don’t seem boring at all,” he said.

He gave her a little smile and Kate’s defenses began to shake.

As the first course was being removed, a gong sounded and the men got up and changed tables.