The Wedding
I tied the cord of the white towelling bathrobe around my waist and heard a tiny tap on my door. My heart skipped a beat. Naturally I thought it was Anthony, that he’d flown out to the island and wanted us to make things right again. Tallulah stirred as I went to open the door, lifting her head and smiling at me with lazy eyes. I put a finger on my lips as I passed her bed and opened the door.
‘She normally wakes about now.’ Amber breezed past me and stretched out her hands to Tallulah who had bounced up to standing in her cot bed. ‘I’ve come to take over my mum duties so you can get back to bossing us all around.’
‘I sleep in Aunty Magenta room,’ Tallulah squealed.
‘You all right?’ Amber turned to look at me as she cuddled Tallulah.
‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘I just wondered who it was at the door.’
‘Who were you expecting? Room service?’
‘No, not at this time.’ I fiddled with the tie of my bathrobe. ‘I thought … I’m having breakfast with Mother, anyway, so I didn’t think it was room service.’
She breezed by me again towards the open door. ‘I’ll come up to Mother’s suite once I’ve got Dom and the girls sorted out,’ she said.
I kissed Tallulah’s button nose as she left, her hands reaching out to me as Amber carried her back to their suite. I blew her a kiss and she kissed her little palm and waved the kiss back to me. Before I closed the hotel room door I looked up and down the corridor. It was empty apart from Tallulah calling Aunty Genta until they reached their door.
I did my hair and make-up as fast as I could, grabbed my Vera Wang, and headed upstairs to Mother’s suite so I could get her ready for her big day.
Mother was opening the door as I hurried along her corridor, Vera rustling at my side and sweeping the floor.
‘I’m not late am I?’ I said, kissing Mother’s cheek as she let me in.
‘No, I’m just getting nervous. I never expected to.’
‘You can be nervous,’ I said, hooking Vera up next to Mother’s wedding dress. I stepped back to inspect my work, not believing I had actually designed and made a wedding dress. I did have lots of expert help when it came to making the pattern and the trimmings but otherwise it was all me.
‘It’s beautiful, Magenta. I love it.’ Mother stood behind me, arms wrapped around my waist, chin nestling on my shoulder. ‘I’m looking forward to wearing it down the aisle.’ She took my hand. ‘But for now let’s have some breakfast. You open the champagne. How many slices of cinnamon toast?’
‘Just one for me,’ I said. ‘I think I’m too nervous to eat very much.’
‘Well, don’t you get nervous. You’re the wedding planner.’
The cork popped loudly and made us giggle. The girls would all be in soon and I was pretty sure the cork popping would be amped up. We ate breakfast on the balcony. The smell of bougainvillea was just as strong on the top floor as it was from my balcony below. Here, the lilac and purple flowers adorned most of the balcony, petals scattered on the tiled floor.
By the time my sisters – Amber, Indigo, and Ebony – arrived, dressed in their bridesmaid dresses, colours to match their names, I was already in mine and I’d helped Mother to dress. Ebony had brought up Mother’s bouquet of scarlet-red peonies as instructed.
‘You three wait here,’ I told the girls who all arrived at the same time. ‘Just wait until you see the bride.’ I took the bouquet to the bedroom to find Mother still staring at herself in the mirror.
‘You look absolutely lovely, Mother,’ I said.
‘Are you sure this dress isn’t too low cut?’ Mother fiddled with the neckline of her long, flowing dress. It had a deep V in the front, I had to admit, but my mother had always looked after her body and at sixty-two she could put all her daughters to shame. She and her décolletage carried off my design beautifully. The colour, a subtle shade of peach, was perfect for her skin tone.
‘Trust me,’ I told her, still holding her the bouquet. ‘When Father sees you, he’ll fall in love all over again.’
‘You really think so?’
‘To be honest,’ I said, ‘I don’t think Father ever stopped loving you, not once.’ I looked down at the floor. Mother took my chin, lifting it with her index finger.
‘I can sense you’re sad, my darling. I know there’s more to Anthony not being here than you’re letting on,’ she said.
‘How-how did you know?’
‘Magenta you’ve told everyone a different reason for him not being here,’ said Mother. ‘Now listen, whatever it is you’ll work it out, you know? I’m sure you will.’
‘Look, we don’t need to talk about this now. This is your day.’
‘More champagne?’ Ebony asked, bursting into the bedroom carrying two full glasses. ‘Oh, Mother, you’re beautiful.’
Amber and Indigo came to the doorway of the bedroom.
‘Just give us a moment,’ Mother said to them, holding up a forefinger. My sisters each looked at me but left the room quickly, Ebony sipping from both of the champagne glasses on her way out.
Mother smoothed the front of my dress. She had no idea that any chance Anthony and I had of working things out was gone. Lost after the harsh words I left him with in the bedroom of our little house in Chelsea. I’d made sure it was final. It was over between us.
‘Magenta, darling,’ said Mother. ‘Just remember, any time you want to talk about what happened between you and Anthony, you know where I am. Okay?’ She took my hand. ‘You can talk to me and your father. Any time, anywhere, all right?’
‘Let’s go,’ I said. ‘It’s time. I can’t have you keeping Father waiting.’
I gave Mother her bouquet and offered her my elbow. She linked her hand through, giving my arm a little squeeze.
‘I feel giggly,’ she said. ‘Like a teenager.’
‘You and Father deserve this day. You should always be together.’
We joined the girls who were still full of praise for how gorgeous Mother looked and for the job I’d done on her dress.
I hoped the sadness I felt for losing Anthony didn’t show to anyone else. There was no way heartache was going to ruin my parents’ big day.
Downstairs, just outside the patio windows that led onto the garden, we entered the recently set up airy marquee. Tables and chairs were laid out for the champagne reception and for the wedding meal that followed. My sisters and I stopped to make last-minute adjustments, neatening our silky Vera Wang dresses, ideal for the climate but probably not traditional bridesmaid colours. Amber, Indigo, Ebony, and I were ready and so was Mother. She took a deep breath.
The wedding ceremony was taking place on the beach. The hotel had temporarily decked the sand and covered the seating area with a large, white canvas canopy. The guests sat in two rows beneath the canopy, an aisle dressed with bougainvillea to separate the rows. An arched walkway, leading from the banqueting marquee, adorned with tropical flowers, led to the decked area on the beach where Father and the judge stood waiting.
I signalled to the bandleader to play Mother’s entrance music and everyone stood and turned around.
Amber and Ebony walked along the aisle first followed by Indigo and me. I noticed Father fussing with his tie. I smiled and winked at him as I got to the altar and he seemed to relax.
All eyes were on Mother as she began her entrance. She walked gracefully along the decking, wiping away the tear that had appeared the moment she saw the expression on Father’s face.
My mother had insisted they prepare vows and had learned hers off by heart. She’d told me to remember Father’s glasses because he’d need them to read his out. But Father and I had planned a little twist on his wedding vows, a small surprise that neither Mother nor anyone else was expecting.
I handed Father the radio microphone secreted away next to the judge and nodded to the bandleader. Mother looked over her shoulder at me, wondering what the hold-up was when all of a sudden the musicians began to play the introduction to a song she knew very well. The famous opening riff began and Father lifted the microphone to his mouth and sang.
Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together had always been a favourite of my parents. They loved soul and jazz music and that song had been playing in the student bar at King’s College, Oxford, when Mother walked in and the two of them first laid eyes on each other. She was in her first year and he was in his third.
I never knew my Father had such a voice in him, mind you. Whenever I’d asked how he was doing learning the song he’d only ever winked at me and told me to wait and see. He sang so beautifully, he certainly put the Reverend Al Green to shame in my book. I promise, as I looked at the faces of our guests, there was not a dry eye in the house. Even the judge sniffed when he asked my parents to pledge that they would, in fact, stay together from that day forward for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, all the days of their lives.
Scarlett Rosemary Burns and Carl Bright vowed that they would and that they really meant it this time. The guests laughed but I was still crying, trying to take control of my emotions.
I felt a slight tug at the bottom of my dress. It was Tallulah. She raised her arms to me and I picked her up. It’s so hard to smile when your heart is breaking.
At the champagne reception, under the marquee in the patio garden of the hotel, I spotted Anya talking to other guests and barely looking at me. Once or twice I noticed the icy glare of her green eyes from over her cocktail glass but I managed to avoid her. We hadn’t exchanged a word and I saw very little of her during lunch. Later when everyone sat around chilling to the cool jazz sounds of the band and making the most of the cocktail bar she seemed to reappear but still we never spoke once.
A little later that afternoon, Amber came up to the table I was sitting at on my own, Tallulah in her arms, head flopping.
Although the ceremony wasn’t too long, the wedding breakfast had lasted hours. We took our time devouring a sumptuous seven-course lunch. I’d consumed a large number of cocktails and glasses of wine, possibly several litres, and felt decidedly woozy.
‘You did it again, sis,’ Amber said.
‘What did I do?’ I managed to slur back at Amber.
‘Well, this.’ Amber gestured with a toss of her head at the wedding party who looked happy and enjoying a boozy afternoon. ‘Yet another Magenta Bright triumph. It’s a real shame Anthony couldn’t make it.’ She left, shrugging Tallulah into place in her arms, bound for their suite to put her daughter down for a nap.
I looked around at how everyone was fading, either because of the heat or the food or the cocktails or a combination of them all. They’d all have to go off for an afternoon nap, too, at this rate.
And then, after all the big build-up – the months of planning and the number of sleepless nights organizing the wedding had caused – it was over. It was the end of the luxuriously sedate and romantic second wedding. By five o’clock my parents were kissing and hugging their guests goodbye and making their way upstairs to collect their bags.
They were off to spend their honeymoon on Marie-Galante, the sister island of Guadeloupe. I’d booked them on the late-afternoon flight on a light aircraft. Their hotel was minutes from the sea and the room would be filled with red roses (Mother’s favourite) and an array of tropical flowers. There’d be champagne and chocolates in the room and they would be having a late-night supper for two in the hotel restaurant.
Once Mother and Father had left there seemed to be a mass exodus, led by Ebony, to the inside bar where there was air conditioning.
I sat alone. From my table in the large patio I looked around as staff busily cleared the tables. I watched how efficiently they restored the appearance of the patio after our feast and then I noticed the lone figure of Anya. She was sitting at a nearby table sipping a cocktail. I suppose it’s okay for you to drink considering the decision you’ve made, I thought to myself, staring at her glass. Suddenly she lifted her head and shot a look at me.
‘Vot?’ she said slamming the tall glass onto her table.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. I got up, left the patio, and headed for my room. The last thing I wanted to do was squabble with Anya.
On the balcony of my hotel room I stared out to sea and all I could think about was Anthony. Eventually I’d have to tell my family the truth about us but in that moment all I could do was question myself. Had I done the right thing? Was I right to make him go like that? With my heart breaking the way it was, maybe I should have given him another chance.
I needed to talk to someone. I needed to thrash out what had happened back in London and see if there was a way back. After the most romantic of weddings I’d ever been to, being with Anthony was all I wanted. I was so confused.
I could hear Amber having a shouting match with her oldest daughter as they walked along the corridor. I heard Indigo come back to her room. After having spent the past few nights in the room next to her I knew it was only a matter of time before she and her husband would be letting loose the wild rampant sound of their lovemaking on the dusk-tinged sky, Indigo calling out for God even though she hadn’t been to church in years.
The heat was driving everyone crazy – including me – because in a split second I decided the only people I could talk to about me and Anthony were my parents. Mother had extended the invitation to speak to her and Father any time, any place, anywhere hadn’t she? I wasn’t so drunk I’d forgotten what she’d said earlier that day.
I threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, picked up the large Shearman Bright tote bag I’d been using for the beach, and bundled in a swag of overnight items. I grabbed for my passport, not really sure if I needed it for an island hop, and took the stairs two at a time. There’d be no more flights that evening but I was pretty sure there would be one more boat out to Marie-Galante before sundown, and I needed to be on it.