Midsummer Magic (10 page)

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Harry had reappeared. ‘I could sit and watch the night sky for ever.’

‘Could you?’ said Diana.

‘I wish I knew what they were all called though,’ said Harry. ‘I can just about tell what the evening star is. The rest of it is a complete mystery to me.’

‘Aren’t you needed at the barbie?’ said Diana.

‘Hardly,’ said Harry. ‘Particularly now Ant’s started talking economics with Peter. I have no idea what they are talking about. I’ve never felt so unnecessary.’

‘Me, you both,’ laughed Diana. ‘I couldn’t face going inside to have another dull conversation about table decorations.’

‘At least you can get away from it when you get home,’ said Harry. ‘Feel for me. I’m living with wedding mania 24/7.’

He looked sombre and a little sad.

‘Are you okay?’ said Diana. ‘Only if you don’t mind me saying, for the groom, you seem to be a bit down.’

‘I’m fine,’ said Harry. ‘Just, Ant being here has reminded me of how much fun I had when I was single. And that before I met Josie, I was planning to go travelling …’

‘Harry, you’re not having doubts, are you?’ Diana looked horrified.

‘No, of course not,’ said Harry hastily, ‘I adore Josie, you know that. It’s just …’

‘Just what?’ said Diana, looking baffled. ‘I thought you wanted to get married.’

‘I do,’ said Harry. ‘I did. But, Christ, I had no idea how much planning would be involved.’

Diana burst out laughing.

‘Oh, Harry, you poor fool. Girls love planning weddings. Surely you realised that.’

Harry felt completely stupid.

‘I hadn’t actually,’ he said. ‘I thought it would be simple. We decide to get married, we have a few friends to church, we have a party, and that would be that. But …’

‘Josie is overcomplicating things?’

‘A bit,’ said Harry. ‘At the moment, I think I’d rather just go off to a desert island and get married without anyone else. I feel we’re drowning in all this wedding preparation; forgetting the reason why we’re doing it.’

‘Well, why don’t you, then?’ said Diana. ‘You could do that, go on your travels, do your travel journalism. Why not? I’m sure Josie would love it.’

‘But you see how happy she is,’ said Harry. ‘This is what she wants, this is how she wants to do it. I’m being selfish. Although I would really love to talk about something other than the wedding for a change.’

‘I know how you feel,’ said Diana. ‘I can’t talk to Josie like I used to. I told her I’d been made redundant earlier, and she barely acknowledged it.’

‘Oh, no, Di, I’m so sorry,’ said Harry.

‘I don’t suppose Josie meant to be unkind,’ said Diana with a sigh.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Don’t know yet,’ said Diana. ‘I expect I’ll think of something. Don’t fret too much about Josie. She’s just so wrapped up in the wedding she’s not thinking about anyone else at the moment.’

Harry gave her a rueful hug.

‘I expect she’ll calm down about it eventually.’

‘Sorry,’ said Diana. ‘I shouldn’t be bitching about it. It’s not fair.’

‘Neither should I,’ said Harry. ‘I’m just feeling stressed, that’s all. I hate coming down here at the best of times. Josie’s dad always makes me nervous. I’m sure he’d rather she was marrying someone like Ant.’

Di glanced over at Ant, who was holding court with Peter in a suave and sophisticated way. She could see that cute, quiet, slightly bumbling Harry might feel he couldn’t compete.

‘But she chose you, didn’t she?’ said Diana encouragingly. ‘And it’s Josie you’re marrying, not her dad …’

Harry was feeling more and more out of sorts. When they’d got back from the pub and seen that Josie and her mum were knee-deep in paper, sorting out menus and seating plans, he’d felt he should have been helping, but Josie had dismissed his apology with an airy, ‘Oh, we don’t need you for this bit,’ and yet he still felt in the wrong. To his horror, their quiet little wedding had morphed into a larger and larger affair. As well as the 150 guests who were now coming to the reception (‘How do we even know 150 people?’ he’d asked, perplexed), a further 100 (‘From the village,’ Nicola had said glibly) were coming for a disco buffet in the evening. A marquee the size of Buckingham Palace had been ordered to accommodate them all, and if Nicola had her way, it would be erected on top of a cliff, which struck Harry as a mental idea. When he thought of how much this was all going to cost, Harry felt slightly weak at the knees. But Josie was blasé about it. He supposed that was what coming from a moneyed background did for you. But he couldn’t help feeling it was all a bit wasteful. And he felt a gnawing worry about the honeymoon. After all this, Josie would be expecting something really special.

‘I never knew that I could feel so emasculated by my own wedding,’ he said to Diana.

‘In what way?’ Di laughed at him. She often did. Other people found Diana prickly and difficult, but Harry had always liked her. She was refreshingly honest, and never dressed things up to make them better. And – a guilty thought crept into his head – she was feistier and more vivacious then Josie.

‘It’s just that there doesn’t appear to be much for the groom to do, other then turn up,’ he said.

‘Well, that is your main job,’ said Diana. ‘Weddings are really for mothers and daughters. If you’re worried about it, why not talk to Josie about it.’

It was the obvious thing to do, Harry knew.

‘She’s so into it all,’ he said, ‘I don’t want to upset her. I expect I’m making a fuss about nothing.’

‘I expect you are,’ said Di touching his arm sympathetically. ‘It won’t last for ever.’

‘As long as Josie calms down after it’s all over,’ said Harry. ‘It’s enough to send me back on the fags.’

‘If you’re that desperate,’ said Di, ‘I’ve been sneaking down to the end of the garden for the odd puff. I’ve got through most of the packet this evening thinking about my lack of prospects. I can’t face the thought of Peter quizzing me about my future, when he finds out I’ve been made redundant. That is, if Josie even remembers to tell him.’

Harry laughed. His in-laws’ house was definitely not the place you could ask to smoke in. He was sorely tempted. He’d given up smoking shortly after he and Josie had got together – her dislike of them being enough to keep him on the straight and narrow. But one … one couldn’t hurt.

‘Okay, you’re on,’ he said.

Feeling like a naughty schoolboy, he followed Di nonchalantly down the garden, where she lit a cigarette and passed it to him.

The first puff made him light-headed. He breathed it in deeply and enjoyed the moment. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the sensation. Before he knew it, he was halfway through his second fag.

‘We’d better be getting back,’ said Di, stubbing hers out and throwing the stub over the hedge into the field that backed onto Josie’s parents’ garden.

‘Wouldn’t do to get caught,’ Harry agreed. ‘Josie would be livid.’

He grinned conspiratorially at Diana. It was a relief to be doing something he actually wanted to do for once. It seemed like ages since he’d led a life of his own.

They made their way up the garden, giggling like two naughty school kids.

As they emerged from behind the bushes, Josie walked out onto the patio, carrying a salad bowl. She looked over at them and a sudden stab of pain shot across her face. She covered it up quickly, saying brightly, ‘So, what have you two been up to?’

‘Just had a stroll around the garden,’ said Harry, trying not to feel guilty, but she looked so stricken he suddenly realised she’d drawn the wrong conclusion. ‘Josie –’ he began, but she slammed the salad down on the table and fled into the kitchen. Oh God, what had he done?

‘Tatiana, darling, give us your best smile.’

The cameras flashed as she spun and smiled and pouted and grimaced on the red carpet, on the way into the newly inaugurated UK TV Awards, held this year at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. And it was all for her.
Sail for the Sun
was a huge success, and this year, Sandy Kane’s heartbreaking storyline, involving a miscarriage, a nervous breakdown, and an unfaithful husband, had ensured that
Sail for the Sun
had been topping the TV charts for week after glorious week. And she was its star. Finally, all the years of hard work had paid off and she was at the top of the tree.

‘Come on, love, show us a bit more cleavage,’ said Snifter Suggs, a particularly loathsome member of the paparazzi who’d gained his moniker from being able to sniff out where the good stories were to be found. Tatiana smiled sweetly but failed to oblige, and shoved back the unwelcome thought that despite her success, she was still the painted doll, preening to give men pleasure.

‘Yes, Tati, do show us your tits,’ a sneering voice behind her said.

Bron. That was all she needed. Annoyingly, he and Freddie were also up for several awards tonight.
Illusions
was the most-watched TV show on a Saturday night, ‘great family viewing’, the
Mail
had called it, and it regularly got viewing figures of over twenty million, not quite as good as
Sail for the Sun
, which had maxed out at twenty-nine million for the episode in which Sandy Kane’s discovery of her husband’s infidelity had led to her miscarriage, but it grated on her that Bron and Freddie were having such success. Freddie had finally got what he’d always wanted, and he and Bron were reaping the rewards.

‘Bron, Tati, give us a picture together, go on,’ said Snifter.

Ever the professional, Tati duly obliged, but as she draped herself seductively on Bron’s shoulder, she whispered in his ear, ‘Got another child bride?’ and nodded at the young girl hovering awkwardly on the red carpet. Tati felt sorry for her; she was only the latest of a string of young starlets whose name Bron was being linked to. No doubt to replace the current Debbie McGee (who’d earned her spot on the show by the same means) as soon as her contract was up.

‘Over here, Tati!’ shouted a voice from the other side of the barrier, and Tati duly smiled as she leaned over in the other direction.

‘Really, Bron, you’re getting to be a bit of a joke, chasing after young women, when everyone can see that bald patch every week on TV.’

That was a low blow. She knew how sensitive he was about his hair.

‘At least I have a love life.’ Tatiana’s last boyfriend’s parting gift had been to describe their sexploits to the
Sunday Sport
.

‘At least my hair’s all my own,’ snapped Tatiana, before smiling sweetly once more for the cameras and sweeping off inside the theatre.

Please God let me win tonight, and not Bron, she thought. If there is any justice in this world, that’s how things should be. She felt nervous as hell. By rights, she should win for her portrayal of Sandy Kane, but she was up against stiff competition from her rival Candida Cordwell, whose portrayal of brave Merry Edwards coping with cancer in
Meet Me in Manhatta
n had also garnered huge praise.

It was the first time Tati had been to an event like this and she was still star-struck by the comedy compere, whose TV show she’d watched since childhood, and terrified at the thought of having to speak to the Hollywood film actor who was giving out the prize for best actress, should she win. Susan Peasebottom was doing her best to hold Tati’s hand, throughout the course of a long evening, in which the prize for Best Light Entertainment Show, Best TV Duo, Best Production and Best Direction went to
Illusions
, but it wasn’t helping. Tati had taken two Valium before she came out but her nerves were still jangling all over the place, and despite her best intentions, she drank rather a lot of champagne. More, certainly, than she’d intended. She was just vainly looking around for another refill when Antony Hayward, the gorgeous Hollywood star of yesteryear, got up to announce the winner of the Best Actress category. Tati was so tense, she didn’t hear a word he’d said, and it was only when Susan prised the glass out of her hand and started steering her towards the stage that Tati realised what had happened.

Everyone in the room seemed to be on their feet; she’d never heard so much applause. And it was all for her. Tati staggered towards the bright lights of the stage, feeling more than a little tipsy, and sick to the core. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Damn, they’d rehearsed this in case she won, but nerves combined with champagne made her forget what she was supposed to be doing.

‘Well, well, your little TV show made the grade,’ a voice said in her ear, and she realised Freddie Puck was raising his glass to her. Without thinking, she grabbed the glass from his hand, marched up to the stage, practically wrestled the award from Antony Hayward’s unsuspecting grasp, and said, ‘I’d like to thank everyone on the cast of
Sail for the Sun
, without whom I wouldn’t be here today, and my wonderful agent Susan Peasebottom, thank you from the bottom of my heart, I couldn’t have done it without you.’ She paused and looked around the room, lighting eventually on Bron and Freddie’s table. ‘There are some people here who never thought I could do this, and I did. Which just goes to show you should follow your dreams. Cheers, everybody,’ she raised her glass, before staggering unceremoniously offstage. As she walked past Bron and Freddie’s table, she quietly poured the champagne on Freddie’s head, and then went back to sit with the cast and crew of
Sail for the Sun
and bask in their adulation.

She had her crown. She had her victory. So why did it feel so hollow?

Diana was at the Standing Stones. She was standing, staring out to sea, the wind blowing through her hair. The sun was going down and the cliff was alive with burnished gold.

She heard someone call her name, and turning, she thought she saw Ant coming towards her, before the figure dissolved into Tatiana Okeby, saying, ‘What angel wakes me from my flowery bed …’

‘Rise and shine!’ Josie came bounding into Diana’s room ridiculously early for a Saturday, particularly one when they were away for the weekend.

‘What time is it?’ Diana came slowly to.

‘Nine a.m., sleepyhead, I’ve been up for hours,’ said Josie. Although she seemed bright and breezy, Diana thought she could detect a note of something else, as though Josie was determined to put on a show. An uncomfortable feeling of guilt shot through her. Josie hadn’t said anything, but Diana saw how it could have looked, her and Harry coming up the garden like that. But he’d sworn her to secrecy about his smoking, and she felt it wasn’t her secret to share with Josie.