Wedding Girl (11 page)

`No,' she said. `You go and have fun. I'll have an early night.'

`You're sure?'

`Yes.' She pulled his face down and kissed it. `Go on. I'll talk to you tomorrow.'

She arrived home wanting to go straight to bed. As she took off her coat she heard voices in the kitchen, and winced as it occurred to her that Aunt Jean might have arrived early. But when she pushed open the door, it was Isobel she saw, standing on a kitchen chair, wearing a pink bridesmaid's dress and with a garland of dried flowers in her hair.

Ìsobel!' she exclaimed, feeling sudden, almost tearful relief. `When did you get back?' Isobel looked up and grinned.

`This afternoon. I got back home, and what do I find? My bloody pipes have gone.'

`Pipes?'

`Water pipes,' said Isobel. `What did you think I meant? Bagpipes?'

'Isobel's going to stay here until the wedding,' said Olivia, with a mouthful of kirby grips. Àlthough of course we'll be a bit squashed when Aunt Jean and the cousins arrive ...'

`Get rid of Alexander,' said Milly. She sat down at the table and began to fiddle with a stray rosebud.

`Then there'll be room.

`Don't be silly, darling,' said Olivia. `He's got to stay here.' She shoved another kirby grip into Isobel's hair and poked at the garland. `There. That's better.'

Ìf you say so,' said Isobel. She grinned at Milly. `What do you think?'

Milly looked up and for the first time registered what Isobel was wearing.

`What happened to your dress?' she asked, trying not to sound appalled.

Ì added some silk roses,' said Olivia. Àren't they pretty?' Milly met Isobel's eye.

`Beautiful,' she said. Isobel grinned.

`Be honest. Do I look like an idiot?'

`No,' said Milly. She looked at Isobel and frowned. `You look . . . tired.'

`That's what I said!' exclaimed Olivia triumphantly. `She looks washed-out and peaky.'

Ì don't look washed-out and peaky,' said Isobel impatiently. Milly gazed at her sister. Isobel's skin was almost grey; her fair, straight hair was lank. The flowers in her hair only emphasized the lack of bloom in her cheeks.

`You'll look fine on the day,' she said uncertainly. Ònce you're wearing some make-up.'

`She's lost weight, too,' said Olivia disapprovingly. `We could almost do with taking this dress in.'

Ì haven't lost that much,' said Isobel. Ànyway, it doesn't matter what I look like. It's Milly's day, not mine.' She looked at Milly. `How are you doing?'

Ì'm OK,' said Milly. She met her sister's eyes. `You know.'

`Yup,' said Isobel. She began to slip the pink dress off. `Well, I might go upstairs and get sorted out.'

'I'll come and help you,' said Milly at once.

`That's right,' said Olivia. `Good little girl.'

Isobel's room was next door to Milly's, at the top of the house. Now that she had left home it was occasionally used by bed and breakfast guests, but more often than not remained empty, clean and neat, waiting for her return.

`Jesus!' said Isobel, as she opened the door. `What's all this?'

`Wedding presents,' said Milly. Ànd this is just a few of them.'

They both looked silently around the room. Every spare piece of floor was piled high with boxes. A few had been opened: they spilled shredded paper and bubble wrap; glimpses of glass and china.

`What's this?' said Isobel, prodding one of them.

Ì don't know,' said Milly. Ì think it's a soup tureen.'

À soup tureen,' echoed Isobel disbelievingly. Àre you planning to cook soup when you're married?'

Ì suppose so,' said Milly.

`You'll have to, now you've got a special tureen to put it in.' Isobel caught Milly's eye and she began to giggle, in spite of herself. `You'll have to sit in every night, and ladle soup out of your soup tureen.'

`Shut up!' said Milly.

Ànd drink sherry out of your eight sherry glasses,' said Isobel, reading the label on another parcel.

`Married life is going to be a riot.'

`Don't!' said Milly. She was shaking with giggles; her eyes were bright.

Èlectric breadmaker. Now, I wouldn't mind one of those.' Isobel looked up. `Milly, are you OK?'

Ì'm fine,' said Milly. Ì'm fine.' But her giggles were turning into sobs; suddenly a pair of tears landed on her cheeks.

`Milly! I knew there was something.' Isobel came over and put her hands on Milly's shoulders. `What's wrong? What did you want to talk to me about in Paris?'

Òh God, Isobel!' More tears landed on Milly's face. Ìt's all gone wrong!'

`What?'

Ì'm in real trouble!'

`What do you mean?' Isobel's voice rose in alarm. `Milly, tell me! What's happened?'

Milly looked at her for a long time.

`Come here,' she said at last. She went back into her own room, waited until Isobel had followed her inside, and closed the door. Then, as Isobel watched silently, she reached up inside the chimney, scrabbled for a bit, and pulled down an old school shoebag, drawn tightly at the neck.

'What-'

`Wait,' said Milly, groping inside. She pulled out a smaller bag then, from that, produced a box tied tightly with string. She tugged at the string and wrenched it off, taking the lid off with it. For a few moments she stared at the open box. Then she held it out to Isobel.

'OK,' she said. `This is what's happened.'

`Blimey,' said Isobel. Staring up at them from inside the box was a photograph of Milly in a wedding dress, beaming through a cloud of confetti. Isobel picked it up and stared at it more closely. Glancing at Milly, she put it down, and picked up the photograph underneath. It was a picture of two men standing side by side, one dark-haired, the other fair. Beneath that was a shot of the darkhaired man kissing Milly's hand. Milly was simpering at the camera. Her veil was tossed over her shoulder; she looked wildly happy.

Without speaking, Isobel leafed through to the end of the pile of pictures. Underneath the photographs were some old faded confetti and a little flowered card.

`Can I?' said Isobel, touching the card.

`Go ahead.'

Silently, Isobel opened the card and read the inscription: `To the best bride in the world. Yours ever, Allan.' She looked up.

`Who the hell is Allan?'

`Who do you think he is, Isobel?' said Milly in a ragged voice. `He's my husband.'

As Milly came to the end of her faltering story, Isobel exhaled sharply. She got up, strode to the fireplace and stood for a moment, saying nothing. Milly, who was sitting in an armchair, hugging a cushion to her chest, watched her apprehensively.

Ì can't quite get my head round this,' said Isobel eventually.

Ì know,' said Milly.

`You really married a guy to keep him in the country?'

`Yes,' said Milly. She glanced at the wedding pictures, still spread over the floor; at herself, young and vibrant and happy. As she had told the story, all the romance and adventure of what she'd done had flooded back into her, and for the first time in years she'd felt a nostalgia for those heady, magical Oxford days.

`Those bastards!' Isobel was shaking her head. `They must have seen you coming!' Milly stared at her sister.

Ìt wasn't like that,' she said. Isobel looked up.

`What do you mean, it wasn't like that? Milly, they used you!'

`They didn't!' said Milly defensively. Ì helped them because I wanted to. They were my friends.'

`Friends,' echoed Isobel scathingly. Ìs that what you think? Well, if they were such great friends, how come I never met them? Or even heard about them?'

`We lost touch.'

`When did you lose touch? As soon as you'd signed on the dotted line?'

Milly was silent.

Òh, Milly,' said Isobel. She sighed. `Did they pay you?'

`No,' said Milly. `They gave me a necklace.' Her hands reached for the little pearls.

`Well, that's a lot of compensation,' said Isobel sarcastically. `Bearing in mind you broke the law for them. Bearing in mind you could have been prosecuted. The Home Office investigates phoney marriages, you know! Or didn't you know?'

`Don't go on about it, Isobel,' said Milly in a trembling voice. Ìt's done, OK? And there's nothing I can do about it.'

'OK,' said Isobel. `Look, I'm sorry. This must be awful for you.' She picked up one of the pictures and stared at it for a few moments. Ì have to say, I'm surprised you risked keeping these.'

Ì know,' said Milly. Ìt was stupid. But I couldn't bear to throw them out. They're all I've got left of the whole thing.' Isobel sighed, and put the photograph down.

Ànd you've never told Simon about it.'

Milly shook her head, lips clamped together tightly.

`Well, you've got to,' said Isobel. `You do know that?'

Ì can't,' said Milly, closing her eyes. Ì can't tell him. I just can't.'

`You're going to have to!' said Isobel. `Before this Alexander character decides to say something to him.'

`He might not say anything,' said Milly in a small voice.

`But he might!' retorted Isobel. Ànd it's not worth the risk.' She sighed. `Look, just tell him. He won't mind! Plenty of people are divorced these days.'

Ì know they are,' said Milly.

`There's no shame in it! So you're divorced.' She shrugged. Ìt could be worse.'

`But I'm not,' said Milly tightly.

`What?' Isobel stared at her.

Ì'm not divorced,' said Milly. Ì'm still married.'

There was a still silence.

`You're still married?' said Isobel in a whisper. `You're still married? But Milly, your wedding's on Saturday!'

Ì know!' cried Milly. `Don't you think I know that?' And as Isobel gazed at her in horror, she buried her head in the cushion and sank into blinding tears.

The brandy was in the kitchen. As Isobel opened the door, hoping no one was about, Olivia raised her head from the phone.

Ìsobel!' she said in a stage whisper. `The most ghastly thing's happened!'

`What?' said Isobel, feeling a beat of fear.

`There aren't enough orders of service. People are going to have to share!'

Òh,' said Isobel. She felt a sudden, terrible desire to cackle. `Well, never mind.'

`Never mind?' hissed Olivia. `The whole event will look shoddy!' Her eyes narrowed as she watched Isobel pour out a glass of brandy. `Why are you drinking brandy?'

Ìt's for Milly,' said Isobel. `She's a bit tense.'

Ìs everything all right?'

`Yes,' said Isobel, backing away. Èverything's just fine.'

She went back up to the bedroom, closed the door and tapped Milly on the shoulder.

`Drink this,' she said. Ànd calm down. It'll be OK.'

`How can it be OK?' sobbed Milly. Ìt's all going to come out! Everything's going to be ruined.'

`Come on,' said Isobel. She put an arm round Milly's shoulders. `Come on. We'll sort it out. Don't worry.'

Ì don't see how we can,' said Milly, looking up with a tearstained face. She took a sip of brandy. Ì've completely messed things up, haven't I?W

`No,' said Isobel. Òf course you haven't.' Milly gave a shaky laugh.

'Nice try, Isobel.' She took another sip of brandy. `God, I need a cigarette. Do you want one?'

`No thanks,' said Isobel.

`Come on,' said Milly, pushing open the sash window with shaking hands. Òne cigarette won't give you bloody lung cancer.'

`No,' said Isobel after a pause. `No, I suppose one cigarette can't hurt.' She sat down on the windowsill.

Milly passed her a cigarette and they both inhaled deeply. As the smoke hit her lungs, Milly felt her whole body expand and relax.

Ì needed that,' she said with a sigh. She blew out a cloud of smoke and wafted it with her hand out of the window. Òh God. What a mess.'

`What I don't understand,' said Isobel carefully, ìs why you didn't get a divorce.'

`We were always going to,' said Milly, biting her lip. Àllan was going to sort it out. I even got some papers from his lawyers. But then it all fizzled out and I didn't hear any more. I never went to court, nothing.'

Ànd you never chased it up?'

Milly was silent.

`Not even when Simon asked you to marry him?' Isobel's voice sharpened. `Not even when you started planning the wedding?'

Ì didn't know how to! Allan left Oxford, I didn't know where he was, I lost all the papers ...'

`You could have gone to a lawyer, couldn't you? Or the Citizens' Advice Bureau?'

Ì know.'

`So why-'

`Because I didn't dare, OK? I didn't dare rock the boat.' Milly puffed quickly on her cigarette. Ì knew what I'd done was dodgy. People might have started poking around and asking questions. I couldn't risk it!'

`But Milly ...'

Ì just didn't want anyone else to know. Not a single person. While no one else knew, I felt . . . safe.'

`Safe!'

`Yes, safe!' said Milly defensively. `No one in the world knew about it. No one asked any questions; no one suspected anything!' She raised her eyes to Isobel's. Ì mean, did you suspect anything?'

Ì suppose not,' said Isobel reluctantly.

Òf course you didn't. No one did.' Milly took another shaky drag. Ànd the more time went on, the more it was as though the whole thing had never happened. A few years went by, and still nobody knew about it, and gradually it just . . . stopped existing.'

`What do you mean, it stopped existing?' said Isobel impatiently. `Milly, you married the man! You can't change that.'

Ìt was three minutes in a registry office,' said Milly. Òne tiny signature, ten years ago. Buried on some legal document which no one's ever going to see again. That's not a marriage, Isobel. It's a piece of dust. A nothing!'

Ànd what about when Simon asked you to marry him?'

There was a sharp silence.

Ì thought about telling him,' said Milly at last. Ì really did. But in the end, I just couldn't see the point.

It's got nothing to do with us. It would just have complicated things. He didn't need to know.'

`So what were you going to do?' said Isobel incredulously. `Commit bigamy?'

`The first one wasn't a proper marriage,' said Milly, looking away. Ìt wouldn't have counted.'

`What do you mean?' exclaimed Isobel. Òf course it would have counted! Jesus, Milly, how can you be such a moron? I don't believe you sometimes!'