The Guest List (15 page)

Joseph snorted. ‘Feel the love? My parents are barely speaking to me. And her mother, that
cow
, stupid woman sticking her oar into
everything
– and you saw her up there crying – pretending everything is hunky-dory. I swear, if I never see any of them again . . .’

Cara automatically took a step back. Joseph’s frustration had quickly turned to anger. ‘You know, I’ve always had a great relationship with my parents, but my dad wanted to retire soon . . .’ He shook his head regretfully. ‘They’re just ordinary hardworking people, I shouldn’t have dragged them into paying for this mess, but Audrey was determined, she just had to have it like this. If I had my way, I would have taken off and got married on a beach, just the two of us, that sort of thing but no way . . . Not possible. Audrey had a vision – she’s been dreaming of this for most of her life and for what? All this nonsense?’ He glared at Cara, as if she was personally responsible. ‘Why don’t they take little girls aside and tell them that the quickest way to ruin happy ever after is to perpetuate the ridiculousness that they need to be a princess on their wedding day?’

Thankfully, at that moment Shane returned. ‘Here’s your drink, man.’ He thrust into Joseph’s hand a glass of whiskey, which the groom quickly threw back in one gulp. Eyes closed, he momentarily relaxed as the alcohol burned its way down to his stomach.

Shane regarded Cara with a quizzical expression. He opened his mouth briefly, as if to ask about what had just transpired, but Cara shook her head, warning him to keep quiet.

Joseph took a deep breath and opened his eyes groggily. Cara wondered just how many bourbons the groom had imbibed prior to the ceremony.

‘See these glasses?’ he said, staring at the empty tumbler. ‘This is called an “upcharge”. We could have had regular glasses, the kind that you drink from in any hotel or bar in Ireland. But no, we had to have Baccarat crystal rocks glasses. Do you know what a Baccarat fucking crystal rocks glass looks like?’ He shoved the glass up against Cara’s face. ‘
This
is what a Baccarat fucking crystal rocks glass looks like, and guess how much it costs to have them here today? Go on, guess!’

‘Umm, no idea,’ Cara replied truthfully, but then decided she’d better play along. Surely fancy glasses wouldn’t cost that much more than regular ones. ‘Maybe a couple of quid extra per glass?’

The groom laughed uproariously and Cara locked eyes with Shane. It was time to leave.

‘A couple of quid! Ha!
Nothing
at this godforsaken sideshow cost a couple of quid. Try an extra
twenty
quid per glass. Per glass! For crystal that no one bloody cares about! And for that princely sum, you are only permitted to
drink
from it, you don’t even get to keep it.’ He stared in wonderment at the glass. ‘I don’t even own these – twenty quid a pop and I don’t even own them, I’m just renting them for a couple of hours. Can you believe it?’ His face grew red and he looked again at the scene around him as if he was a drowning man. ‘I heard correct earlier, you two are engaged yes? Getting married?’ Cara and Shane nodded their heads meekly.

‘And I take it you want to stay married?’

‘Well of course,’ Cara replied uncomfortably.

‘Then do yourselves a favour. Skip all this bullshit, this nonsense. I don’t know how we’re ever going to able to pay all this off. I was made redundant a couple of months ago, but so much was already arranged and Audrey was insistent—’ Joseph put his face in his hands as if he was about to start sobbing and Cara looked uncomfortably at Shane, at a loss what to do.

‘Mate, do you want to sit down for a while? Can I get anyone, do anything for you?’ Shane placed a hand on the groom’s shoulder.

‘Well yes, you can do something for me, actually.’

‘Sure, just name it. Anything.’

‘Tell me which way the fucking bar is.’

Cara swallowed hard. With the way Joseph was drinking, the night was destined to end badly. And she knew that she didn’t want to be around to witness the inevitable carnage. Poor Audrey and Joseph. He’d recently lost his job? She looked around at the lavish spread, the unmistakable expense of it all. Why go through with all of this if ultimately they couldn’t afford it?

‘Erm, it’s that way,’ Shane said quietly, pointing in the direction of the bar.

‘Thanks and hey, thanks for listening,’ Joseph said, patting Cara on the shoulder. ‘Congratulations on your engagement and all that, much luck to you. May you find a lifetime of happiness and all that bullshit,’ Joseph hiccupped. ‘I need to get a drink and find my blushing bride. Hah! Audrey blushing. You saw her earlier; she’s more likely to shoot daggers at you—’ He took a deep breath. ‘Anyway, thanks for the drink, and cheers.’ The groom raised his glass once again in their direction as he stumbled off.

Shane turned and looked at Cara, his hands in his pockets. ‘So, shall I go and look for their wedding planner so we can put our deposit down?’

She shook her head, still slightly shell-shocked by the horrible reality behind Audrey and Joseph’s supposed Big Day.

She grabbed his hand. ‘No, let’s just get the hell out of here. I think we need to talk.’

They were both quiet during the taxi journey home from the wedding, each lost in their own thoughts.

‘You know you shouldn’t let all that bother you,’ Shane said eventually. ‘Our wedding doesn’t have to be like that.’

‘Maybe you get that and I get that, but I am afraid no one else seems to.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well there’s your parents still not speaking to us for one. And despite what I said, I’ve already had to get Mum to cancel the church booking.’ She had been flabbergasted to learn that Betty had gone ahead and booked her precious St Joseph’s church for April of the following year, ‘just in case’. While it was lovely that her mother was so excited about her wedding and determined to throw herself into the planning of it, the level of Betty’s determination was disconcerting. ‘To think we haven’t even set a bloody date yet.’ Cara kneaded her forehead. ‘And then a while back, when I was out with the girls that time, they just jumped all over me about the wedding plans, same as what everyone has been doing lately, asking questions, offering opinions, telling me what to do. Honestly, I feel like I’m being smothered.’

Yet unlike Cara, Shane seemed to be taking all these intrusions in his stride. ‘Look, nobody else’s opinions matter, just ours.’

But Cara said nothing, realising that he just didn’t understand how stressful it was all becoming, for her at least.

When they reached the apartment and went inside, he threw his jacket on the sofa and sighed.

‘And this is supposed to be the happy time,’ he said wryly. ‘The easy bit, before all the chaos starts.’

Cara reached forward and put her arms around him. ‘Look, I am happy, I’m happy with you, I love you. But you heard Joseph earlier, about all that family strife and how he’d probably never speak to his in-laws again. Already everyone has the same sort of expectations for us, and how we should do things. It’s like we have to follow certain rules or we’re doing something wrong, or being . . . weird or something. Crikey Shane, if I learned anything today it’s that a big affair is a million miles from what I want. I don’t want a wedding planner or Baccarat crystal glasses and I certainly don’t want half the country on the guest list. I keep thinking about poor Joseph and imagining you the same way – ragged and bitter on what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life. I just – oh, I just don’t know.’ She rubbed her temples.

‘OK, let’s look at it this way,’ Shane said gently. ‘Let’s stop thinking about the negative stuff and all the things we don’t want. What
do
we want? What do you want? Really, be honest, what do you envision for your wedding day?

‘Well, other than what we said before about it being small and—’

‘No I mean what do you envision now, this minute? What’s your instinct?’

Cara closed her eyes and tried to put all the recent chaos out of her head, and simply imagine her and Shane’s wedding day and what would suit them best.

She breathed deeply and very easily began to conjure a scene in her mind. She pictured herself in a simple white satin sheath, the kind that would drape easily over her curves without requiring corsets or crinoline. Instead of heels torturing her feet, she pictured herself in flats, or perhaps barefoot, with her hair down and a simple veil pinned effortlessly at the crown of her head. The veil would catch a light breeze as she walked up the aisle towards Shane.

And there was Shane, waiting for her, his skin tanned and golden, the picture of health and vitality rather than the white-faced bag of nerves that was Joseph Bourke, a tender smile lighting up his face as she approached.

Cara expanded the scene in her mind. She thought about the guests, the people she wanted to share the moment with, and realised she knew every face, and only the people who mattered were present. Her beloved parents, her sisters, good friends . . . she cared about them all and there wasn’t a stranger amongst them.

Then out of nowhere she imagined herself tasting salt in the air and hearing waves crash upon the shore. The air was warm and a setting sun was casting brilliant hues of red and orange upon the turquoise of the ocean. She could smell the scent of frangipani in the breeze.

Cara felt a smile find its way to her lips.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Shane whispered, taking her hands gently.

She was smiling broadly, still lost in the vision. ‘No Cinderella dresses or tuxedos, just you and me calm and relaxed, surrounded by our family and everyone we love. I know all the faces, and so do you.’

‘Liking the sound of it so far. What else?’

‘A beach,’ she smiled, her eyes still closed. ‘Somewhere warm and beautiful. It’s sunset, and the waves are rolling in, and it’s just . . . it’s just beautiful, magical almost. It’s perfect.’

She opened her eyes and met Shane’s gaze. He was smiling too.

‘You know, that’s the most at ease you’ve looked in weeks.’

‘I know.’ As she began to feel the weight of all her previous anxiety lifting, Shane spoke again.

‘Let’s do it,’ he said matter-of-factly.

Her eyes flew open. ‘What?’

‘A beach wedding. Somewhere warm, sand under our feet, at sunset, on a tropical island. The whole shebang. Let’s do it.’

She stared at Shane, her heart racing. It did sound perfect, and what’s more it sounded
right,
but . . .

‘What would everyone think?’

‘Who cares?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Who cares what anyone thinks? How many times have we said that this is about me and you. This is
our
day and it should be all about what we want. So let’s make the dream a reality, and if someone doesn’t like it, they can bugger off.’

Cara smiled, remembering that Conor had given her pretty much the same advice a while back. ‘Conor said something similar actually,’ she laughed.

‘Well, then the man talks sense – for once. What do you think?’

She visualised the scene on the beach again. She pictured herself holding a small bouquet of orchids or something simple and beautiful. She could almost feel the warm air on her skin, taste the salt spray on her tongue. She was sold.

‘OK then yes, let’s do it!’ she said excitedly. ‘Let’s have a beach wedding.’ She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘With just our families and a handful of friends.’

‘And let’s do it soon,’ Shane laughed. ‘Before anyone has the chance to change our minds.’

The moment the phone rang in her Palm Beach condo on the other side of the Atlantic, Danielle Clancy had a dark premonition. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but a sense of unease suddenly crept in.

She placed her hand on the phone and left it there for a moment, refusing to even look at the caller ID. Something was up, she just knew it.

She hastily grabbed the phone and found herself swallowing hard before she said, ‘Hello?’

‘Danielle? Hi, it’s Cara.’

She exhaled a little. Cara. Only Cara. Nothing to worry about, nothing to be upset about. Where had the spike in intuitive energy come from a moment earlier? Cara was on the other side of the ocean. Nothing to be worried about, Danielle reassured herself. Simple sister-to-sister chat. Nothing more than that.

Except she and Cara didn’t really do ‘sister-to-sister’ chats.

‘Hey there . . . Cara, how are you doing?’ she drawled hesitantly.

‘Gosh, Danielle, I can’t believe that’s you, you sound a hundred per cent American. No hint of an Irish accent at all!’ Cara laughed.

‘Well, I have lived here for quite a long time now,’ Danielle reminded her.

It had been a very long time since she’d left Ireland – a lifetime, for all intents and purposes. Sure Danielle had been back across the Atlantic a few times over the years, but she didn’t make a habit of it. Truthfully, most of the time, she preferred to sneak in and out of Europe without her family knowing anything about it.

‘I know. I can’t even remember the last time you were home,’ Cara continued. ‘So how is everything? What’s been happening with you? How is Zack?’

Holding her breath, Danielle wished that Cara would skip the small talk and just say what she needed to say. She knew there was a purpose to this phone call and she could hazard a guess it had something to do with what was happening back home.

Danielle didn’t really have a chatty relationship with her sisters. Heidi and Cara were both so much younger than her for starters, and the fact that she had been away from home for so long meant it was hard to simply chit-chat on the phone without feeling like she was talking to a stranger.

‘Well, things are good Cara, really. Business is good, Zack is good, life is good.’

And that about summed it up really, Danielle thought, smiling.

‘Fantastic. We’d really love to meet Zack, you know – you’ve been with him for what, five years now? What a mystery man he is. Any wedding bells in the future for you two?’

‘Oh, I’m not sure if that’s right for either of us just now, we are quite comfortable as we are,’ Danielle replied uncomfortably. ‘So really Cara, what’s going on? What can I do for you?’ She felt a bit mean for turning her tone businesslike, the voice she used when brokering a real estate deal at work, but her mounting anxiety was becoming a little too much to bear.