‘Anyone would think you didn’t go to weddings for a living,’ Rohan calls from outside the bathroom door.
‘I don’t go to weddings for a living,’ I shout back, struggling to put my earrings in. ‘I sometimes go to interview the bride and groom before the ceremony, with a photographer, and occasionally get invited to stay.’
‘Well, you write about wedding outfits all the time. How can it take you so long to get into one?’
‘Maybe the more pressing question is how can you put in so little effort that you’re ready in five minutes flat?’
He laughs. ‘I didn’t come here expecting to go to a wedding. My choices are jeans and a black shirt or naked – it wasn’t a difficult decision to make!’
I look at my reflection in the mirror and try not to smile to myself at the mental image. I do not secretly hope he chose the latter.
‘All right, I’m going to wait downstairs and see if I can get any gossip about the church from the guests. Amy said her mum knows someone who lives here, maybe she’ll know something that the vicar’s conveniently forgotten to tell us.’ His hand taps on the bathroom door once. ‘See you in a bit.’
I shake my head and start trying to apply eyeliner without poking an eye out. He’s still looking for proof that there’s something corrupt about the church, that the no-divorce story is fake or there’s something untoward going on. He’s mellowed a bit in the past couple of weeks, I know that, but he still is and will always be R.C. Art, won’t he? Whatever he’s going to write about the church, his article will always have that bias, no matter how much he tries to stay neutral.
I already hate the idea that we’re going to betray Clara, Amabel, Paul, Kittie, and the others – people who have welcomed us with open arms and trusted us wholeheartedly, but at least my article will be a glowing write-up of Edelweiss Island and I will recommend it to every reader, even if every reader will be gone afterwards. It will be our romantic, positive swan song.
What is his going to say? No matter what his boss has told him to write, his article will always have his sarcastic sense of humour and anti-love prejudice, and while I’ve enjoyed reading his columns, it’s bad enough that we’re lying to the people here, without the end product being an insult to them too, regardless of which one of us wins or loses the battle of magazines.
I’ve bought a new dress from the clothes shop on The Little Wedding Street. They really have thought of everything here and have a teeny clothing shop next door to the bridal shop that stocks summer dresses and trouser suits, in case any of the wedding guests forget an outfit or spill something on what they’re wearing. It also comes in handy when you come for a few days to interview some locals and end up staying for over two weeks pretending to be engaged and get invited to someone else’s wedding and you have nothing to wear.
Rohan’s waiting at the bottom of the steps when I go outside. He turns around and smiles when he sees me. ‘Wow.’ He lets out a long breath. ‘You’re beautiful. Whoever marries you for real one day is going to be a really lucky guy.’
He sounds so genuine that it takes my breath away. He’s always so free with compliments, and I know that if any other guy said that to me, I’d think he was only after one thing, but it’s different with Rohan. For someone who makes himself out to be so stone-hearted and cold, he certainly seems to enjoy making me feel good. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’
He grins and holds his hand out, and I slide mine into it and let him help me down the two steps from the door.
‘It’s so nice of Amy and Keiron to invite us,’ I say. ‘I can’t believe we got lucky enough to be in the right place and time to see an actual wedding at the church of no-divorces.’
‘Are you sure there isn’t a nice root canal I can have instead? Sans pain relief?’
‘You were going to try to sneak in anyway!’
‘Yeah, disguised as a bush or something. Then I was going to hide outside the door and jump out on the guests as they left, see if we can’t fill up that graveyard a bit quicker.’
I know he’s joking but I give his arm a smack for good measure.
The island is buzzing with activity today. A boatload of Amy and Keiron’s guests are standing around talking in groups, and judging by the excited chatter coming from the jetty, the second boatload has just arrived. Everyone’s wearing their wedding best, a multitude of pastel-coloured dresses and big hats, bending down to admire the Edelweiss flowers and comment on the beautiful views.
You can feel the excitement in the air and it gives me hope. Some people still love weddings. There will always be people like Rohan and Oliver who think it’s all a waste of time, but there will always be people like Clara and Amabel too who think love is worth celebrating with a little fuss.
As we walk past The Little Wedding Street, workers and shopkeepers are running around like ants, up and down the back path to the church, the others up and down to the beach to set up the reception.
‘All this to say two words and sign a bit of paper.’ Rohan shakes his head.
‘Oh, stop moaning. You’ll get to see Puffin again, you can at least be happy about that.’
His face breaks into a huge smile. ‘Now that makes it all worthwhile. That and we’ll probably have to kiss again at the reception.’
I choke on air at his straightforwardness. ‘Warn a girl when you’re going to say things like that, Ro.’
He shrugs. ‘All the islanders are invited, right? I wouldn’t want to give them a chance to doubt our story after two and a half weeks. I might have to kiss you a lot.’
‘Yeah.’ I smile so wide my jaw hurts. ‘Couldn’t let all this be for nothing. When you think we’ve kissed enough, we should probably kiss some more, just to be on the safe side.’
‘Glad you agree,’ he says with a wink. ‘Honestly, if our bosses knew the sacrifices we have to make for our work. We’re like heroes for the greater good of wedding articles.’
‘Oh yeah. Kissing you is such a tough job but someone’s got to do it,’ I say, thinking this is probably my favourite assignment I’ve ever had. If Two Gold Rings ends, at least my career there will have finished on a high note.
***
The road to the church is strung with colourful bunting and each tree has wreaths made of white and purple roses hung on it. As we turn into the churchyard, the fairy lights wrapped around each branch of the tree tunnel are glowing whitish-blue, twinkling like stars in the early evening sky.
There are people everywhere, wedding guests standing around nattering, islanders having a gossip, shop owners from The Little Wedding Street still tweaking things, a man wandering around with a large camera around his neck snapping away, and it makes me think of what my wedding would be like here.
My mum and dad would love everything about Edelweiss Island. They’d be dazzled by my wedding taking place here. I can imagine my extended family standing around in groups on the perfectly manicured church lawn as they waited to go inside. I can see my mum’s delight at The Little Wedding Street, my dad’s interest in the history of the church, aunties and uncles and cousins gasping in delight at that first glimpse of the steeple from the boat, my mum discussing wedding plans with Clara or sharing gardening tips with Amabel. It would be like the dream wedding I didn’t even know I was dreaming about.
When we get a bit nearer the church, Rohan whistles and there’s instantly the sound of doggy claws scraping against the concrete path and a flurry of huffs and snorts as Puffin comes racing towards us. Ro crouches down and opens his arms and the pug launches himself at him. Ro catches him and stands up, spinning around with the dog in his arms, the human-canine equivalent to the lift in Dirty Dancing. Puffin is so excited he can barely contain himself, wagging his whole body with joy and licking Rohan’s face, and I’m honestly not sure which one looks happier.
Ro steps closer and Puffin puts his paw on my shoulder and leans over to lick my face too.
‘See? He does like you,’ Rohan says with a delighted smile, cuddling the dog tighter. ‘Shall we go and get a seat? Return this adorable little monster to his rightful owner?’
‘Ahh, that’s where he’s got to,’ Paul says, approaching us as we walk through the arched doorway of the church, decorated with purple and white roses today to match Amy’s colour scheme. ‘Kisses with his new favourite person. I told him you’d be coming today and I’m sure he was waiting for you.’
Rohan’s actually blushing as he hands the wriggly dog back to Paul.
Paul’s dressed in his full cassock and dog collar today and he greets us both with a handshake. ‘Glad you could make it. Go on in and take a seat in one of the back pews. I’m going to shut this one in upstairs, lest he escape and cause havoc mid-ceremony.’
Ro watches him go with sad eyes as they disappear up the stairs to Paul’s living quarters.
‘You’ll see him again,’ I say.
‘I know. It’s just that when we leave… well, we won’t exactly be welcome to come back for visits, will we?’
‘You want to come back here? You get seasick and you hate weddings. I wouldn’t think The Little Wedding Island was topping your list of potential holiday destinations. Unless you’re finally ready to admit that weddings aren’t so bad and there’s something magical about this place?’
‘Nah. About as much chance of that as carving an ice sculpture inside an active volcano. I’m just really going to miss that dog.’ He looks down and meets my eyes with a soft smile. ‘And maybe some other things too.’
My heart is pounding harder at the inference in his words and the warmth of his smile. Is he just playing the part in case someone overhears? Or does he mean that? I know we’ve crossed the lines of the pretence, having a bit of fun, kissing when it’s not necessarily putting on a show for any nosy islanders, and if I’m being honest, I’m a bit scared of where it’s going too. Pretending to be engaged to him is too natural. Even now I have to remind myself that he didn’t really propose and we’re not actually engaged.
When my mind wanders to going home, which is bound to be next week at the latest once Amy and Keiron’s wedding is over, all I can think about is him. Could we see each other again back at home? Is there even any point in trying to continue this? I’m looking for love and he isn’t. No matter how much fun we have together, there’s one thing that will never change – you can’t fall in love with someone who doesn’t believe in love.
I shake myself and try to push his smile out of my mind. I wish we weren’t going to end things by betraying the islanders too. I’d love to come back here. I’d even tell Mum and Dad to come here for a little holiday because they’d love it so much, but after the next issues of The Man Land and Two Gold Rings come out, I doubt anyone who knows us will be welcome on Edelweiss Island.
Inside the church, bunches of white baby’s breath flowers and sprigs of lavender are wrapped in organza ribbon and tied onto the end of each pew by giant bows. The bridesmaids are wearing Cadbury purple dresses and the groomsmen have ties and pocket squares in the same shade, and the red church carpet doesn’t fit in with the colour scheme so the aisle has been covered by a white runner sprinkled with purple star confetti. Vases of purple and white roses line the perimeter of the room, and white chiffon is draped between all the arches inside the church and wrapped with purple fairy lights.
The church is filling up as we shuffle into a pew near the back. Amabel and Kittie and her husband are in the row behind us and all lean over for an awkward hug across the pews, all smiles, looking genuinely pleased to see us. It makes me think again about how much that will change when they find out the truth.
Rohan’s acting weird as we stand there. He keeps looking around and standing on tiptoes to see over the sea of big hats and feathery fascinators. It’s only when Paul walks into the church that he stops.
‘Bingo.’ Ro says quietly. ‘Save my seat.’
I catch hold of his hand and pull him back as he goes to walk away. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To see what I can uncover while he’s otherwise occupied.’ He bends down to whisper in my ear and covers it by pressing his lips to my cheek. ‘Or, if anyone asks, the loo.’
With that he’s gone, squeezing past the couple to our right and disappearing into the crowd of people finding their seats.
Amabel tugs my sleeve from behind. ‘He’s a lovely young man.’
I glance over my shoulder at her, aware of a smile spreading across my face but unable to stop it. ‘Yeah,’ I say, getting a little shiver of joy as I say it. ‘I guess that’s why I’m engaged to him.’
‘He reminds me of my husband, you know. Terrified of getting hurt twice in one lifetime, feigning a front of nonchalance and using humour as a defence mechanism.’
‘He doesn’t believe in love,’ I say without thinking. I instantly want to clamp my hand over my mouth. I’m so stupid. How can I have said that? I’m meant to be engaged to the man. He has to believe in love or we wouldn’t be getting married, would we?
Instead of pointing and yelling ‘imposter!’ as I thought she might, Amabel just smiles. ‘He doesn’t need to believe in something to already be feeling it.’
I should be able to stop myself asking but I can’t. ‘You think he loves me?’
Again, she doesn’t question it. She doesn’t ask why I’m planning a wedding to a man who I don’t think loves me. ‘I know he does, dear.’
Tears spring to my eyes and I have to turn away. I know you’re supposed to cry at weddings but it’s a bit much to start before the bride has even arrived.
‘Bonnie…’ Amabel says.
‘Mmm?’ I say without looking round. If I look at her, I’ll full-on ugly cry. Not because I believe her but because of how much I wish it could be true.
‘It only takes one moment. The iciest, coldest heart can be thawed in a single moment, even if he hasn’t admitted it yet.’
‘If wishes were horses, eh?’ I mumble, trying to surreptitiously wipe my eyes without removing even more make-up. ‘I mean, thanks, Amabel, we’re totally in love, he just… you know. I have doubts in my weak moments, that’s all,’ I stutter, wondering why I ever opened my mouth in the first place. I could’ve blown the whole thing.
I’ll have to kiss him when Amabel’s in the vicinity later, just to wipe out any lingering doubts in her mind. I have a sneaking suspicion he might be okay with that.
She gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze but doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t need to. Apparently I don’t need any help to dig myself into a hole when Rohan’s not around.
By the time Rohan gets back, Paul’s ready, Keiron’s come in from a side room and is standing at the altar with his groomsmen, Amy and her parents and bridesmaids are fussing with her veil outside the entrance, and the piano player is tuning up for ‘Here Comes the Bride’.
‘Where’ve you been?’ I hiss. ‘You didn’t go and liberate Puffin, did you? No one will be impressed if he comes racing down the aisle and trips Amy up during the bridal march.’
‘Nope. Did find something that makes tripping up seem like the better option though.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I look up, suddenly worried at the bleak tone in his voice. ‘Did you find something?’
‘Yeah.’ He presses his mouth against my ear. ‘Keiron snogging a bridesmaid in the kitchen.’
‘What?’ I say in shock. ‘You’re lying.’
He shakes his head, looking wretched. ‘I wish I was.’
I thought he’d be overjoyed at the opportunity to break up a marriage and prove he was right in saying they were a terrible couple the other night.
‘What are we going to—’ I’m cut off as the church doors open and Amy’s mum scurries to her seat at the front, and the first bars of ‘Here Comes the Bride’ start playing for real. I’ve never been so upset to hear this music before.
‘You have to tell her,’ I whisper to him as everyone stands up and Amy takes her first steps down the aisle.
‘I know,’ he says, and I can see the worry in his eyes as he looks around for the opportunity. We’re blocked into a pew and everyone around us is standing for a good view of the blushing bride as she walks down the aisle. It’s not like he can just dart out and ask to speak to her.
I’ve never been in this position before and I don’t know what to do. Should I jump up and blurt it out now? Should I trust Rohan to do it when the time’s right? He wouldn’t actually let them go through with the wedding and then tell them so they’d want a divorce, would he? How far would he go to disprove the church’s myth? What if this is all to do with his article? What if it’s his way of going one better than me and saving The Man Land? I glance up at him and he looks truly torn up over it. He’s not faking that, I’m sure he’s not. If he is, he’s a much better actor than I’ve given him credit for.
Amy looks radiant as her dad escorts her down the aisle, like this is the happiest day of her life. And Rohan’s about to ruin it.
No. Not ruin it. Save her from marrying someone who’s cheating on her. He has to say something. I’d want to know in that position. Anyone would.
Keiron’s standing at the altar waiting for his bride, looking just as elated as she is, and I wonder how on earth I could’ve missed it. All right, he was a little distant in the restaurant the other night, but there wasn’t an atom of me that doubted how much they loved each other until Ro said it afterwards, and even then I just thought he was being his cynical old self.
The ceremony passes in a blur, almost like I’m far away, lost in thoughts, wondering how I could’ve missed it. I spend my life talking to happy couples and writing about weddings. I thought I was a good judge of these things, and I feel guilty for how easily I dismissed Ro when he said it.
I’m jolted back to the here and now when I hear Paul say those fated words. ‘If any person here present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage—’
Rohan stands up. ‘Actually, I do. Considering I’ve just seen Keiron in the kitchen snogging your middle bridesmaid, I think that’s a fairly decent impediment to any marriage, don’t you?’ he says, and I’m reluctantly impressed that he can do the right thing without losing his sarcastic tone.
Rohan sits back down with a thump and slumps in the pew like he’s trying to hide as a silence where you could hear a mouse’s breath descends across the entire church. Everyone is looking at us and my face is burning red. Ro fiddles with a thread of cotton hanging from the side of his dark navy jeans, and I slide my hand across his thigh and entwine my fingers with his, a show of solidarity because everyone’s looking at us like he’s the one who’s done something wrong.
And then Amy lets out a wail and wallops Keiron round the face with her bouquet, drawing every curious pair of eyes away from us, and I feel the relief go through Rohan. I squeeze his hand.
‘I knew it!’ Amy screams, thwacking Keiron with the bouquet until it starts to disintegrate and the bridesmaid in question gets in the middle of them and Amy wallops her with the empty stems. ‘I knew you two were up to something!’
Neither of them try to protest or deny it, and I’m surprised. Keiron’s supposed to be head over heels in love with Amy, so much that he wanted to marry her, and the bridesmaid is surely one of her best friends, and yet neither of them beg forgiveness or try to say Rohan’s lying. The islanders all know who Rohan is, what his alter ego writes about, but no one doubts him. Amabel and Kittie both lean forward and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
Amy howls like an agonised banshee as she moves on to hand slapping Keiron and the bridesmaid, tears, snot, and mascara running down her face in equal measure. It’s only when she rips her shoe off and brandishes the stiletto heel towards Keiron that the best man steps in and physically hauls her away. Amy is a sobbing wreck as she crumples in his arms and I want to go up and give her a hug but I don’t know her well enough. She’s surrounded by friends and family anyway.
As Keiron walks out of the church with his tail between his legs, one of Amy’s brothers sticks a foot out and trips him up, sending him sprawling to the floor while the bridesmaid crashes into him and they both end up in a frilly purple mess in the middle of the aisle. In any other situation, it would be hilarious, but no one laughs as they pick themselves up and walk out.
No one knows what to do after that. It’s over so quickly. A wedding that they’ve spent a year planning, a relationship that they’ve been in for eight years, a life together. The silence in the church is interspersed only with Amy’s sobs as she sits on the steps to the altar with her family crouched around her.
Rohan’s grip on my hand has been gradually tightening and I shift a little closer to him so our arms are pressed together and he rests his head on my shoulder. I know he’s only doing it for the benefit of the islanders sitting behind us, but I like how affectionate he can be sometimes.
Just as I’m wondering if the polite thing would be to slip out quietly, Amy hauls herself to her feet. Her veil is ripped, her dress is stained with make-up, and although her mascara was probably waterproof, even that doesn’t stand up to the stress of finding out your husband-to-be is cheating on you with your bridesmaid.
‘Screw men!’ she yells. ‘There’s a reception down on the beach and I’m not letting it go to waste! Everyone must come! Let’s go get drunk!’ She thrusts what’s left of her bouquet into the air victoriously, a bunch of broken stems with the ribbon unwrapped and hanging down limp, and she looks at it sadly. ‘Really, really drunk.’
The guests start to filter out after Amy and her family leave, the islanders too, and Ro and I stay sitting until almost everyone has gone.
‘Well, I’ve never seen a wedding end quite like that before,’ I say as we get up to go.
‘That didn’t feel as good as I expected it to,’ he says quietly. ‘Before I came here, I’d have been desperate to have a bombshell like that to drop at the “if any person here present” bit, but that was actually really awful. I ruined their wedding.’
‘You didn’t ruin it. You were right and I was wrong. They were clearly a terrible couple, and I didn’t see it. You did and I didn’t believe you. You did the right thing by speaking up in there. I would want to know. In that situation, I’d want someone to stand up and tell me.’
‘Yeah.’ He gives a bitter laugh. ‘Wouldn’t we all?’
***
The reception is in full swing by the time we get down to the beach. There are two marquees on the sand, one for dining and one for dancing.
‘Welcome to my non-reception!’ Amy shouts, standing on a table and glugging champagne straight from the bottle. She’s cut her dress into ribbons, torn the sleeves off and embraced the rock-chick look provided by the running mascara. ‘A celebration of not making the biggest mistake of my life!’
The seating plans have been abandoned and guests are sat around anywhere and everywhere. The food has been laid out buffet-style and Rohan and I fill up a plate each. Amabel, Clara, and Kittie are at a table near the edge of the dancing tent, and they beckon us over, looking genuinely pleased to see us.
‘What a narrow escape,’ Kittie says.
‘The poor woman. It’s a good job you spotted him when you did, Mr Carter,’ Amabel adds.
‘You’re a good lad,’ Clara says, patting him on the arm, and I feel like we’ve just entered the first meeting of the Rohan Carter fan club.
He’s gone so red that his cheeks are almost glowing but he shakes his head like he’s brushing off their compliments. ‘I assure you I’m not.’
‘If you weren’t, you’d have let them go through with it.’
Rohan goes to answer but nothing comes out and I get the feeling the three ladies utterly enjoy the rare sight of him being speechless.
‘How can everyone be so happy?’ I ask, looking around the marquee. Most of the guests are dancing on the temporary dance floor to music being pumped out by a DJ. Everyone’s stuffing themselves with finger food and clinking glasses with each other. ‘She’s just lost the love of her life and her best friend.’
‘She hasn’t lost anything,’ Amabel says as she pops a mini sausage roll into her mouth. ‘It wasn’t meant to be. Maybe tomorrow she’ll grieve the relationship she thought they had, but ultimately nothing will be as bad as getting married and finding that out afterwards.’
‘That’s a nice way of looking at it,’ I say. ‘Do you guys really believe that? That if things are meant to be they just… will.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Wholeheartedly.’
‘We dedicate our lives to it,’ Kittie says, waving a hand behind her head and up towards the church on top of the cliffs. ‘If it’s meant to be or not be, someone or something will be in the right place at the right time to make it so.’
‘Today is a prime example,’ Amabel says to Rohan. ‘A few seconds’ difference and you might not have caught him. And you must’ve got totally lost on your way to the loo to be in the kitchen. It’s on the opposite side of the building. How lucky is that?’
Oh, if only they knew. Even I don’t know exactly what Ro was expecting to find by sneaking around the church like that, or if he succeeded with all the snogging going on, but I do know he wasn’t off to the loo.
The first bars of ‘The Time of My Life’ start playing and Clara taps the table excitedly. ‘You two should go and dance! This is one of my favourite songs and my hip’s playing up too much to try it myself. Go on, make an old lady happy. God knows we need to see some love and happiness today.’
‘Well, if you insist.’ Rohan holds his hand out to me. ‘A dance, the future Mrs Carter?’
I instantly feel feverish and giddy. I’ve never been a future Mrs anyone before.
And I am not now. I shouldn’t need to remind myself of this fact.
I let him pull me out of my chair and we join the other guests doing Dirty Dancing impressions in the centre of the tent. He holds his arms out and I slide one hand into his and one onto his chest, feeling the solidity of muscle through his dark shirt. His hand slides around my waist and tugs me against him and we start doing a waltz that’s not a waltz at all – it’s really just standing as close as possible to each other and gliding around in very limited space with other couples banging into us all the time.
‘Just so you know, I hate receptions,’ Rohan says. ‘I wouldn’t even have come if it wasn’t for you, but this is actually kind of fun.’
I know I’m beaming from ear to ear. ‘All right, pod person, who are you and where’s the real Rohan?’
He laughs. ‘What can I say, Bon? You must be a good influence on me.’
There are so many sarcastic responses I could come up with, but Amy yells again before I have a chance.
‘I knew he was a bastard!’ she shouts, headbanging on a table and swigging champagne from a different bottle.
‘Why was she marrying him then?’ Rohan says to me.
I look up at him because he’s got a point. I can’t begin to know how I’d feel in Amy’s position, but she seems happy enough now. Maybe happier than she seemed at the restaurant the other night. Did she really have her suspicions? Did she, like Ro said, genuinely believe that the church of no-divorces could fix the problems in their relationship?
‘Eat, drink, dance, and have fun!’ Amy shouts and the music to something more upbeat starts playing, and Ro spins me out and pulls me back against him, our hips together, pressing against each other, grinding more than could probably be considered decent in a public place, and I can’t help noticing how well we fit together. I’ve always thought I was too short but I’m the perfect height for him to rest his chin on my head, his hand fits around my wide hip like he was made to hold it, and when he leans against me, nothing has ever felt as right as his head on my shoulder. It’s what Paul said when he first met us – that we fit each other. Is that why it’s been so easy to fool everyone?
‘We should continue this when we get back to the mainland,’ Ro murmurs in my ear.
I’m almost positive my heart stops beating for a few long moments. ‘What, being a couple?’
‘Being a pretend couple. If we ever need a date for an event or something, high school reunion, that sort of thing, we could give each other a call. Until you find your real Prince Charming anyway. We know we work well together, and everyone keeps telling us we make a good couple.’
Of course he only means pretending to be a couple. That’s what this is. Just business. I shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away with the pretence. This is just work after all, I know that, but sometimes it’s felt like more. I swallow down my disappointment. ‘Yeah. I’ll ask you to come to a wedding with me. I’m sure you’ll be overjoyed to do that.’
He laughs. ‘Aw, Bon. For you, I’d even go to another wedding.’
Maybe true love’s overrated after all. I’ve got the UK’s biggest marriage critic volunteering to pretend to be my boyfriend at a wedding. It doesn’t get much better than that. What more could a girl want than a man who reconsiders his entire morality for her?
I look at Amy, currently dancing on a table in her shredded wedding dress with one of her non-groom-snogging bridesmaids and wonder if Rohan’s right after all. And Oliver. And every person I’ve ever met who tells me there’s no such thing as fairy-tale endings and that some European countries have divorce rates at seventy percent.
I’ve been quick to dismiss everything Ro’s said, but he was right, wasn’t he? Amy’s just proved it. Couples come to the church of no-divorces because they think it will fix whatever problems are in their relationship. Is that why it’s so popular? Not because it’s a romantic, real-life fairy tale but because it’s a quick fix? Have the islanders really invented this story to capitalise on everyone’s fear that their marriage won’t work out?
And I’ve done what Oliver and Rohan said I do – let myself believe in it because life is just a little bit nicer when you believe in happily ever afters. What if sneaking around the church is what I should’ve been doing too? What if this island’s story is a scam and his article is going to uncover it and mine isn’t, because mine is influenced by my willingness to believe in love, not the cold hard facts that Ro is looking for?
‘So what were you up to when you caught Keiron at it with the bridesmaid?’ I whisper to him.
‘I told you, looking for records.’
‘Still? I thought you were writing something nice about Edelweiss Island?’
‘I’m writing something true about Edelweiss Island. Whether the truth is nice or not has nothing to do with me.’
‘So after all this time, you still just want to expose them.’
He pulls his head back and fixes me with an earnest look. ‘You know what, actually I don’t. I actually want it to be true now, because if it’s all a con, you’ll be disappointed, and I don’t want to disappoint you.’
The surprise of that sentence makes me misstep and I stumble against him. His strong arms wrap around me and hold me steady until I can get my feet back under myself.
‘And no, I didn’t find anything,’ he whispers in my ear as he pushes me back upright.
I can’t help smiling as we carry on our dreadful excuse for a dance. There’s hope. Just a little spark, but it’s enough after seeing a relationship fall apart in front of our eyes today. Hope that he won’t be able to find anything because there’s nothing there to expose.
‘Excuse me?’ Paul taps Rohan on the shoulder as we’re winding down the song, Puffin with him on a lead. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘Sure.’ Rohan crouches down to greet the dog and we duck over to the side of the tent with Paul.
‘I wanted to thank you for what you did today, Mr Carter.’ Paul holds his hand out and Rohan shakes it, looking a bit bewildered.
‘I saw the groom kissing someone else ten minutes before he was due to get married. No one would’ve kept that to themselves,’ he says like he can’t work out what Paul’s getting at.
‘Okay, let me put it this way,’ Paul says. ‘I’ve read some of your work. If you were the man I thought you were, you would’ve kept quiet. You would’ve let them get married and when their marriage inevitably failed, you could’ve had great fun writing about the church of no-divorce’s first divorce. By speaking up, you’ve inadvertently preserved our perfect record. That’s what I’m thanking you for.’
Rohan shakes his head. ‘I didn’t even think of that.’
‘Exactly. You only thought about doing what was right. Maybe there’s hope for you yet, R.C. Art.’ He pats him on the shoulder and I feel Rohan tense even more than he was already. He really hates being recognised as his alter ego.
‘Amy asked me to thank you too.’ Paul glances back to the table she’s standing on, stuffing a handful of wedding cake into her mouth. ‘Before the third bottle of champagne anyway. I’m sure she’ll have a banging headache in the morning, but she was relieved she found out before it was too late. And now this non-reception. Such a fun way to end a terrible day. I’m glad she didn’t let it go to waste. Stopping a marriage like that in its tracks is worth celebrating.’
Rohan looks suddenly flustered. ‘I’ve gotta get out of here,’ he mutters before turning and stalking out of the tent.
I watch his silhouette retreating down the beach, surprised at his abruptness, as Puffin pulls on his lead, wanting to follow him.
I give Paul an apologetic shrug. ‘Sorry. I think the whole Keiron thing has bothered him more than he’s letting on. I’m going to…’ I point a finger in the vague direction Rohan went.
‘No problem. Can’t be easy having to do that in the middle of a wedding. He’s got a heart of gold underneath all his sarcasm.’
Puffin whines and pulls again, trying to go after Ro, and Paul offers me his lead. ‘You wouldn’t take him with you, would you? He’s really taken a liking to your other half. He’ll be inconsolable when you go home.’
‘Not as inconsolable as Ro will be to leave him.’ I wrap the lead around my fingers and let Puffin drag me into the chilly night air on the seafront.