Chapter Eight
It’s still dark when Marley crawls into my bed. ‘Are you awake?’ she whispers, unnecessarily, given that she’s trying to disturb me.
‘If I said no, would you leave me alone?’
‘Of course not.’ She flips and flops, wrapping herself in my duvet. ‘I’m getting married today!’
I smile. ‘I know. That’s why we’re all here, remember? I’m guessing you’re excited.’
‘You know what I keep thinking about? Standing up next to Jez and telling him I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. I’ve been trying to figure out why that’s so significant for me.’
I prop myself up on an elbow. ‘The clue is in the words, Marl. The rest of your life. That’s huge.’
‘But I already know I want to be with him forever. So why does it matter so much saying it out loud? That’s what I don’t get. But it definitely does matter.’ She flops again. ‘I’m never going to go back to sleep.’
Then apparently neither am I.
‘Come on,’ she says, bouncing to her feet. ‘Let’s sneak downstairs and eat last night’s leftover pudding, like we used to do at home. If Mrs Campbell catches us we’ll pretend we’re sleepwalking.’
‘Just let me check my BlackBerry first.’
‘Carol, you are ridiculous! It’s Saturday. What can be so urgent? You have an unhealthy relationship with that thing. You and Karl were messaging each other at dinner last night, weren’t you?’
‘How did you know that?’ I’d kept it on silent in my lap the whole time.
‘I didn’t. You just confirmed it. Seriously, can’t you leave it, just for today? Please? It can be your wedding present to me.’
‘You know I already got you the Louboutin wedding shoes.’
‘Then you can give me two presents.’
‘Greedy.’
‘Speaking of presents, I have one for you, too, in my room.’
She leads me next door to the wedding suite.
‘For today,’ she says, handing me a small package. Inside is a tiny bag to perfectly match my dress. ‘It’s beautiful!’ I say, kissing her.
‘And it’s too small for your BlackBerry. It took me ages to find one that size. So there. Problem solved.’ She looks very pleased with herself.
As we pad downstairs in our dressing gowns and slippers, the lamp outside catches Marley’s attention. ‘Oh no, look!’
Big fat snowflakes twinkle in the lamp’s glow. ‘I’m sure it’s just a flurry,’ I say. ‘That’s hardly any snow at all. Come on, let’s eat some pudding.’
I hurry her away from the window before she gets a look at the small drifts that have started to accumulate against the outbuildings.
Nearly a hundred guests are due on the coaches at lunchtime, but at this rate, Mum might never see them. She’ll be in hospital with a coronary by then. There’s a queue of vans along the drive all trying to deliver their goods before the blizzard properly takes hold. Mrs Campbell is barking orders at the caterers and florists and wine merchants, and Auntie Lou is flapping so hard she looks ready to take off. In the midst of it all, Dad quietly strums his guitar on the stairs.
‘Mum, what can I do to help?’
‘I don’t really know,’ she says. ‘It just seems like everything is happening at once. Mrs Campbell is shouting a lot.’
‘I think that’s her normal mode of communication,’ I point out.
‘She seems to have everything under control,’ Dad says.
‘But what if she’s doing it all wrong?’ Mum says with her hand on her hip. ‘I should go check.’
She rushes off to the kitchen to harass the house manager. And they wonder where I get it.
The guests arrive at a little past eleven. Friends and family pour off the two coaches we’ve hired to shuttle everyone from Edinburgh Airport. They’re full of high spirits and travel tales. Luckily, the snow seems to have started from the north so that London’s runways were clear for their early morning flights.
‘See?’ I tell Marley. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about. Everyone is here.’
I don’t tell her that, thanks to my BlackBerry, I know this storm isn’t going to blow over quickly. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how to get everyone home. I peer out into the swirling snow. The coaches have made deep tyre tracks on the circular drive. Further along the building near the kitchen door I can make out the caterers in their black outfits hurrying back and forth with boxes of food. A few guests are taking the opportunity to walk around the front garden, filling their lungs with fresh country air. A man about my age walks hand in hand with a woman in a Puffa jacket and huge snow boots. He looks familiar. I squint, trying to make him out through the flurries. He reminds me a bit of Skate. He’s been on my mind since his parents arrived.
The man raises his arm, waving at the house. They stomp toward the door.
No. It can’t be.
‘Carol, hi! Isn’t this beautiful?’ He rubs the snowflakes from his close-cropped hair and stamps his feet. ‘The whole drive here just got prettier and prettier. Come here. God, it’s good to see you!’ He gathers me up in a bear hug before I know what’s hit me.
The woman beside Skate watches me shyly. ‘I… I didn’t think you were coming,’ I say when he sets me down again.
‘Well, I wasn’t sure whether I’d be away on a campaign. But I’d have swum back for Marley’s wedding if I’d had to. Oh, I’m so sorry,’ he says, seeming to notice the quiet woman beside him for the first time. ‘This is Berenice. Berenice, this is Carol, who I’ve told you so much about.’
She extends her small hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Carol. Thank you for having us.’
‘Well, it’s not my house!’ I say. ‘You’re welcome to be here whether you’re invited or not.’ God, that sounds like I think they’re not invited. ‘But of course you are invited. Erm, you probably want to freshen up before lunch. There’s someone sorting out everyone’s rooms. I’ll go find him, shall I? Be right back!’
I flee the scene.
‘Mum!’ I manhandle her to a quiet corner. ‘Did you know Skate was coming?’
‘Of course I did. I helped with the invitations, remember?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?!’
‘Because then you would have acted like this from the time I told you,’ she says smoothly. ‘Besides, your sister wouldn’t let me. Don’t blame me, blame her.’ She levels me with a look. ‘Carol, you were best friends once. It’s time to get over it, my love.’
Her words deflate my anger. I’m not unhappy to see Skate. It’s just that I’m barely prepared for two exes this weekend. I don’t see getting fifty per cent more free as any kind of bargain for me.
At least Robert isn’t here at the moment. He’s with Jez at the B&B up the road, avoiding any accidental sightings of the bride before the ceremony.
I won’t be childish about this, slinking around in corners just because Skate and his girlfriend are here. Mum’s right. We went out years ago. That’s water under the bridge. Besides, the house is full. We probably won’t even see each other.
I stride into the dining room, realising too late that only Skate and Berenice are there. Suddenly I’m drowning in all that water under the bridge.
‘There you are!’ says Skate. ‘We lost you in all the confusion out front. The waiter has just taken our order. Let me catch him and he can take yours.’ Before I can stop him, he sprints from the room.
I smile at Berenice. She smiles at me. She’s not at all how I’d expect Skate’s girlfriend to look. She’s tiny, for one thing. Skate’s a strapping strong lad, always outdoors doing manly things like coppicing trees. Berenice would blow over in a strong wind. Not that she looks like she’s ever outside. Her skin is pale to the point of sickly, with dark shadows under her eyes. She’d be perfectly cast as any of the street urchins in Oliver Twist.
‘Your journey was good?’ I say, just to fill the increasingly uncomfortable silence.
‘Yes, thank you. The coach was very comfortable. Did you come by car?’
‘We hired taxis from the airport,’ I say as Skate returns with the waiter. Thank God. My transportation repertoire is limited. ‘So, tell me about you,’ I say to Skate.
‘We met at the blockade at Faslane two years ago,’ he says, mistaking my question about him for a question about them.
‘Sweetheart,’ Berenice interrupts. ‘Nobody knows what Faslane is.’
‘Oh, I do,’ I say. ‘That’s the naval base on the Clyde.’
Berenice looks surprised.
‘Carol’s job means she’s up on all the news,’ Skate explains. ‘She’s a walking encyclopaedia. Berenice is with Greenpeace too.’ He grabs her hand, making my heart skid. ‘She was living at the peace camp at Faslane when we met.’
That might account for her pallor. ‘So it was love at first sight while you were chained together chanting?’
Berenice nods.
‘She’s taking the piss, Berenice,’ Skate says, smiling at me. ‘It may take a little time to get used to Carol’s sense of humour.’
Whereas it won’t take any time at all to get used to Berenice’s. She’s about as funny as a hangnail.
By the time we’re ready to make our way to the chapel, it seems like we’re inside a snow globe. Fires crackle in the hearths in rooms suffused with soft light. The Christmas tree twinkles merrily as the snow swirls past the windows. Even I find my heart warming at the scene.
‘You said Jez is definitely at the chapel?’ Marley asks me again.
‘Definitely. I told you, Robert phoned half an hour ago to say they’d arrived. Even if he had binoculars there’s no way he could see you.’
He’s going to fall over when he does see her. With her golden hair pinned loosely up under her veil and her make-up done, she looks even more beautiful than the million times I saw her at the bridal salon. My sister is the loveliest woman in the world today.
‘Are we ready?’ Dad stomps in, trailing snow. He looks smashing, too, in his grey morning suit and blue cravat.
‘Dad, where are your shoes?’ He’s got his trousers tucked into his winter boots.
‘Haven’t you noticed, Carol? It’s snowing out there.’
Marley’s face falls. ‘I can’t walk to the chapel! I’ll ruin my shoes.’ Eyebrows… Ready, steady, go!
Dad quickly grabs her in a hug. ‘My darling girl, do you think I’d let you ruin your shoes on your wedding day? If you’ll just follow me…’ He leads her to the front door. I look over her shoulder.
‘I don’t believe it!’ I laugh. ‘Dad, you are brilliant.’
Half a dozen men stand to attention holding blue and white golf umbrellas over tablecloth-draped wheelbarrows stuffed with pillows. The path from the house has been shovelled down to the gravel and a small group of caterers are standing with more umbrellas beside the door.
‘Ladies,’ he says to Mum and me. ‘Your chariots await. These nice men will see you safely to the chapel. Marley, may I escort you to your barrow?’
He takes her arm and leads her out. Waving the man away, Dad wheels his daughter to her wedding.