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Christmas at the Falling-Down Guesthouse: Plus Michele Gorman's Christmas Carol by Lilly Bartlett, Michele Gorman (19)

Chapter Six

 

I’m doing my level best to be the bigger person here, but it’s not easy. Being chucked together with Robert in a freezing chapel for the wedding rehearsal is bad enough. It’s his attitude that’s making me want to knock him over the head with the vicar’s chalice. I wish he’d at least be honest, instead of all jolly and friendly as if he didn’t dump me for no reason whatsoever.

The vicar is trying to keep control of the wedding party but it’s a lost cause. We’ve been making merry with the mulled wine since I returned from the spa. Mum wanted drinks on hand to welcome the other wedding guests. Jez’s parents were already at the house when I got back. The Rendalls arrived about an hour ago but there’s been no sign of Karl. I can’t ask Marley where he is. She’s made me swear to forget about him.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, please,’ says the vicar, trying once again to marshal us into some semblance of a wedding party. His rosy nose and cheeks tell me we weren’t the only ones on the sauce this afternoon. ‘Once the guests are seated and we’re ready to begin, we’ll start with the procession. I’ll be here at the front with Jeremy. Carol, you’ll then walk down the aisle–’

‘Me first? But Marley is supposed to go down first.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I want you to go first. It makes more of an entrance that way. Then everyone is already oohing and aahing and then I walk down.’

‘But you can’t just go around dismantling traditions,’ I say.

‘It is the tradition in the US, apparently. I saw it on Don’t Tell the Bride. Please, carry on, vicar.’

He clears his throat. ‘Then Carol, you and Robert will walk down together, with you on his left, please.’

‘But he’ll be at the front already,’ I say. ‘With Jez. That’s right, isn’t it, Marley?’

She looks sheepish. ‘We thought it would be better for you to walk together.’

I can see by the way her lip is stuck out that she’s not going to budge on this. ‘Have it your way. If you want to tear up the entire rule book, be my guest.’ I’m not going to be the one to object when Robert’s pretending to be fine with it. ‘We’ll walk down together.’

The vicar waits. Then he says, ‘So if you’ll go to the back, please, and when the music starts, walk to the altar.’

‘Now?’

‘It is a rehearsal,’ says Robert.

‘Fine, let’s go.’ As if I need to practise walking. My heels echo anger against the flagstone floor when I stomp to the back. Robert, I note, saunters amiably behind me just to make me look bad.

The awkwardness intensifies when we’re alone in the vestibule. Except for our exchange in the drive earlier, we haven’t spoken since we broke up. I don’t plan to open a dialogue at this point.

But the silence is getting uncomfortable. Why isn’t the music starting? ‘Is there a problem?’ I shout.

‘Just getting the right song for the organist,’ Jez calls back. ‘Won’t be a sec.’

‘We may be here for a while,’ Robert says.

‘I don’t mind. I’ve always loved church doorways.’

‘Really. What is it in particular that draws you to them?’

‘Oh, you know. Their size.’ Where is that music? ‘Sometimes there’s a list of past vicars. It’s all very interesting.’

‘It sounds fascinating. I’ll remember to pay more attention from now on.’

Thankfully, the organ booms its opening chords.

‘You look very pretty,’ he whispers as I take his offered arm.

This throws me. He’s not smiling, exactly, but there’s amusement behind his violet eyes. At my expense, no doubt.

‘But then, you’re always perfect, aren’t you?’ he continues just as we start to walk.

I stride down the long aisle with my gaze fixed on my sister. ‘There. Happy?’ I hiss when I reach her.

‘Erm,’ she says, staring back up the aisle. I follow her look. Robert is standing there where I must have left him when I unhooked my arm and bolted for the front.

‘I think perhaps we want to try that again,’ the vicar says, running his hand through his shock of white hair. ‘Carol, you went a bit fast. The idea is to stay with the best man all the way to the front. And try not to jog next time.’ Mum and Dad are showing no respect at all for the sanctity of the chapel. Their laugher bounces off the eighteenth-century walls.

To the back we go again. I resolve to keep pace with Robert. Leaving him behind once can be chalked up to nerves. Twice looks like bad manners.

‘Ready, Flash?’ Robert says as he crooks his arm again. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t bring my trainers.’

I ignore him and concentrate on walking slowly. It seems to take a millennium, but eventually we reach the front.

‘Do it again,’ says Jez.

‘What? Why?!’

‘Because you looked like you were going to the gallows, Carol. The idea is to warm up the audience for our joyous day, not depress them.’

‘Can’t you trust that I’ll smile tomorrow?’

He shook his head. ‘Do it one more time. For me.’

It’s a good thing I like Jez (questionable taste in best friends aside).

This time Robert doesn’t bother trying to talk to me. He probably wants to get through this as quickly as I do. So far we’re the remedial ones at the wedding.

We walk, I smile, everybody else manages to play their part without having to resit the exam, and Robert and I ignore each other for the rest of the rehearsal.

For once I’d be grateful to be sat next to Jemima at dinner – give me her food phobias over Robert’s company any day. But no, we’re beside each other next to Marley and Jez so all my family and friends get the opportunity to watch me squirm. To his credit, Robert does his best to ignore me, but the guests are conspiring to make us acknowledge each other. Every question aimed at the happy couple sprays shrapnel our way. Auntie Lou kicks off the barrage, but it’s soon a full-blown charge from the whole brigade. Honeymoon plans? Oh, Bali will be beautiful. Carol, didn’t you and Robert go there? Blue cravats for tomorrow? That’ll suit Robert with his blue eyes, won’t it, Carol? I can’t wait to see Marley’s dress – Carol helped her choose it. She has such beautiful fashion sense, don’t you think, Robert?

Then, just as I’m about to use my fork for self-harm, Karl strides through the door. Marley pulls him over to meet Mum and Dad before I’m even out of my chair. Karl has rock star status in our family because he’s been such a good boss to my sister over the years. Whenever there’s been talk of staff cuts at the bank he’s made sure she was safe, and he’s always rewarded her well for her work. When we were… doing whatever it was we were doing, I saw just how far beyond the call of duty she goes for him. If she’s not finding the cleaners and builders and mechanics he needs, she’s booking his holidays and buying his shirts. Karl couldn’t function in the grown-up world without Marley.

‘Carol, hi. You look beautiful,’ he says, kissing my cheek as I try not to blush in front of the whole table.

‘Karl,’ says Marley. ‘Let me introduce you to my cousin Jemima. I thought you’d enjoy sitting next to each other since Jemima rowed at university and you sail.’

I stare at my sister as she says this but she won’t meet my eye. Is she trying to get fired? There aren’t two more different people on the planet. I hardly think they’ll bond over a mutual love of flotation.

‘Are you all right?’ Robert asks when I’ve sat down again.

‘Of course, why?’

‘Because you’ve just ground your breadstick to powder.’

‘That? Oh, I like eating it that way. Didn’t you ever notice before?’ I wet my finger and mop up some crumbs, trying not to look at Karl and Jemima. 

Marley agreed to let me off the speeches at the wedding as long as I say something tonight. I tried to talk her out of it, citing the tradition in which only the men have to make arses of themselves over a microphone, but her lip went out and she got her way. I can’t wait to get it over with.

I ding my glass with a fork. ‘Hello, everyone. Marley is making me say something tonight, so you can blame her if you fall asleep in your pudding.’ This doesn’t get the laugh I’m hoping for. Tough audience. ‘I want to tell you a little bit about my big sister.’ I look at the notes I’m clenching. ‘When we were young we had loads of dolls to play with. I have to admit that I wasn’t always the best at putting them away. Dad broke his foot thanks to my Cool Cat Sindy doll. But that’s another story. The point is that Marley always looked after her dolls, and had very particular ideas about what made them happy. She never just threw them into the drawer. They had to stay paired up together with their spouses. Because Marley’s dolls were always married. There was a shortage of eligible bachelors, so they weren’t always married to men.’ That gets a laugh. ‘But they were always married. And happily, too.’

Mum is nodding, smiling at the memory. ‘So Marley’s always been a romantic, even as a child. Most of you know that she and Jez fell in love in about two minutes. So the fact that it’s taken them six years to get married has nothing to do with love. It has to do with Marley’s impatience and Jez’s stubborn streak.’ I smile at Jez. ‘Sorry, mate, but you are stubborn as shite.’

‘You’re one to talk!’

‘Maybe, but I’ve got the floor now, so I get to talk about you. Where was I? Oh, yes. Impatient Marley and stubborn Jez. The combination means there were a few false starts over the years, since he’s all about the element of surprise. And Marley isn’t the greatest at letting surprises happen. We thought he’d propose when they went to India, but Marley made the mistake of mentioning some monogrammed towels that she wanted, and there was no way Jez was going to propose when Marley was already picking out linens.’

‘I didn’t want them for the monograms, it was for the Egyptian cotton!’ Marley says. ‘Tell them, Karl.’

He laughs. ‘I’m staying out of this!’

‘I had to pick out new towels for Karl,’ Marley explains. ‘He’s my boss, for anyone who’s wondering why I’d buy towels for another man… and the ones I found were gorgeous, thick cotton with free monograms. I just thought they’d be nice to have too. Asking how we should monogram them was an error, I admit.’ She and Jez grin at each other.

‘We then thought he’d pop the question on your fourth anniversary,’ I say. ‘That was my fault. I shouldn’t have teased Jez just before you left. But we finally got Mum to keep quiet too, and as a result, tomorrow we’re going to watch two people we love most in the world pledge to spend the rest of their lives together. Our parents set the example, falling in love instantly. Seeing them, and seeing Marley and Jez together, I can almost believe in it myself.’

‘And that’s saying something!’ shouts Granny as everyone laughs.

I feel my face redden. ‘It certainly does. So please be upstanding and raise your glasses to love at first sight.’

Glasses clink up and down the table. Then Dad steals the show, playing the songs that he’s composed for Marley and Jez. By the end of it there’s not a dry eye in the place, present company excepted.

‘That wasn’t bad for someone who hates public speaking,’ Robert says when Dad has finished. ‘Did you mean it?’

‘Of course I meant it,’ I say, looking up from my BlackBerry. ‘I wouldn’t lie about my sister.’

‘I mean about believing in love at first sight.’

‘Oh, that. Well, Marley wanted something about love in the speech and it does seem to apply to them, so…’ I shrug.

He smiles. ‘Well, the sentiment was nice. By the way, I’ve got something for you.’ He pulls a small wrapped package from his jacket pocket. ‘It’s… I got it before we, well, it was from before. I hope you’ll still accept it. Don’t open it now though, okay?’

Not realising that gift-giving is customary amongst exes, I didn’t get him a thing. ‘Thanks.’ I can feel my face burning as I put it in my handbag. Thankfully, he bolts from the table to talk to Jez, saving us both any further awkwardness.

The party starts breaking up soon after Dad’s music, everyone intent on getting their forty winks for the big day. I’m dying to get Karl alone but there’s not an obvious opportunity. Jemima hasn’t stopped talking since he sat down, the poor man. He’s obviously too polite to make an excuse to escape. There must be some way to pull him away. Something that excludes Jemima.

A genius idea strikes. ‘Karl,’ I say when Marley is safely out of range. ‘Do you want to see the surprise Dad has for Marley tomorrow?’

His eyes sparkle. ‘Show me!’

As someone with the patience of a nine year old, I knew he’d jump at the chance.

‘Ooh, what is it?’ Jemima whispers. ‘Can I see too?’

‘Sorry, cuz, I’d love to let you in on the secret but Dad was very specific. No family can know before it’s unveiled. I’m so sorry we’re related.’ I catch Karl smirking at the double entendre. ‘Sleep well, see you in the morning!’

Karl and I duck out to the kitchen. ‘Oh, bugger, I forgot my boots!’ I should just keep the blasted things by the door. ‘I’ll have to go back upstairs.’

‘What’s wrong with those boots?’ he asks.

‘I can’t go outside in these. It’s snowing.’

‘Riiiight, because boots aren’t made for snow.’

‘These boots aren’t. I’ll just pop back upstairs.’

‘No, no need for that.’ He turns around and crooks his arms. ‘Hop on and tell me where to go.’

Giggling, I accept his piggyback ride. There are just enough outside lanterns to light our way to the outbuilding. It’s beautiful with the snow gently falling, and completely silent. Except for our giggles.

‘Hang on. There’s a light switch here somewhere,’ I say when he sets me down inside the door. I feel around the rough wooden wall, hoping that Scottish spiders hibernate in winter. ‘Ta da!’

Karl nods. ‘Wow, nice ice duck. Are Marley and Jez big fans of waterfowl?’

‘It’s not a duck. It’s a swan with a short neck. It’s Dad’s surprise for them tomorrow. Look. Here at the back. It doubles as a vodka luge!’

Karl’s admiration for the duck grows. ‘So you pour the vodka from the top, here, and it travels down his back and comes out… here? I’ve never drunk vodka from a duck’s arse before.’

‘Don’t ruin the moment. Dad’s very proud of it.’ The duck is growing on me. I’ll be a little sad when he melts. ‘Besides, your alternative to seeing this is to talk to my cousin Jemima.’

‘What’s her deal?’ he asks, leaning against the tractor parked beside the duck.

I knew he was only being polite when he pretended to listen to her at dinner. ‘She’s bizarre, right? If she’s not eating llama poo to regain the shine in her hair she’s avoiding tuna because she thinks zinc plays havoc with her chakras. She actually started a petition last year to boycott peanut butter because she thought peanuts were unfairly competing with Brazil nuts in the Amazon. And now she won’t eat it because she’s convinced it’s made with butter.’ I shake my head. ‘I’m sure she told you all about her latest idea. At-home colonic irrigation. Who in their right mind would let her into their house to stick a pipe up their back stairs? That’s not a business model. It’s an assault at home without the forced entry. It would be kinder for everyone just to put her down.’

‘You’ve got to be the harshest woman on earth,’ he says, chuckling.

‘That’s why you like me.’ I’m quite pleased with myself.

He laughs again. ‘I suppose we should go back inside before Marley misses us and comes looking.’

‘Oh. Right, yes, good idea.’

He turns to leave.

‘Ehem. Aren’t you forgetting something?’ I nod towards my boots.

‘Right you are, madam. Climb aboard. Your wish is my command.’

As he carries me back to the house where everyone is saying their goodnights, I can’t help wishing he means something else by that.

 

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