Europa

by Robert Mills

  “It’ll be fine, Marvin,” I said. “All you have to say is ‘I do’.”

  “I’m not worried about the ceremony, it’s the reception. I’m no good at making speeches. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of Liv.”

  “My book said that the groom’s speech isn’t that important. You just have to remember to thank all the right people and say some good things about the bride. Then you finish off by proposing a toast to the bridesmaids.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I’m just afraid I’ll lose the power of speech altogether.”

  “You’ll be alright.” I smiled reassuringly.

  Once Marvin seemed calmer, we walked back and this time we were allowed into the building. We took our place on the right at the front of the hall and I studied the ornate ceiling above us. By now the guests were starting to take their seats and before long the Registrar entered, and, seeing us, came across to offer some words of reassurance to the obviously nervous bridegroom.

  Marvin’s parents arrived shortly afterwards and sat behind us. As I glanced round I could see my own parents sitting a few rows back with Tom. Marvin’s father leant forwards and spoke to us in hushed tones.

  “Hello Symon. You alright, Marvin?”

  “I’m fine, Dad, just a bit nervous, that’s all.” Uncle Kris put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  Next to arrive was the bride’s mother dressed in an elegant gown. She gave a haughty little smile to Marvin and took her place in the row opposite with Liv’s brother and sister. Looking at my wrist tablet I could see that the wedding was due to begin in five minutes. Ten minutes later there was still no sign of the bride, but shortly afterwards the sound system struck up with the bridal march and Liv appeared at the main door on her father’s arm. We left our seats and went to stand in front of the registrar, looking back down the aisle as she approached. I think it was then that I first saw Liv as she really was. The thin young girl had blossomed into an elegant woman with a shapely figure and a beautiful, fine-featured face framed by thick chestnut hair. I applauded her decision to let it hang loose, rather than have it severely tied back and piled on the top of her head as so many brides did in those days. But why, I wondered, had I not previously noticed her broad sensuous mouth and the large grey eyes in which one could so easily drown? I think that was the first time I desired her, but it was in a detached way, as one might a screen goddess or a singing star. In any case she was about to become Marvin’s wife and I had no intention of destroying our relationship by making advances to Liv. I was happy for my cousin and only wished that I could find a ‘Liv’ of my own.

  The ceremony passed off without a hitch and Marvin said all the right words in the right places. The reception was to be held at a hotel about a mile from Westminster so Marvin and Liv were swept away in the bridal limousine while I followed in my parents’ Electroglide. Personal transport was becoming prohibitively expensive and, by the time I got married, my father had been forced to sell his beloved car.

  “It’s lovely to see you, dear, we don’t see much of you these days,” said my mother reprovingly as we drove along Millbank.

  “I’ve been busy with the new job and everything,” I said defensively. She fell silent and my father continued to concentrate on the road ahead apparently oblivious to our presence.

  Once at the hotel I joined the welcome line-up and found myself next Liv’s mother. She looked down her nose at me.

  “I’m told you are a trainee manager,” she said without enthusiasm. “What sort of company do you work for?” My reply produced an almost imperceptible thawing of her icy gaze. By now the guests were upon us and we applied ourselves to the shaking of hands and introductions.

  After the wedding breakfast the bride’s father rose to give his speech. His wife tapped aggressively on her glass to call for silence. He droned on for some time about Liv’s childhood, her many accomplishments and how proud her parents were of her. He welcomed Marvin to their family and wished the young couple happiness for the future. He was in the process of sitting down when his wife jabbed him in the ribs and hissed at him that he should propose a toast. He straightened up and raised his glass.

  “I’d like to propose a toast to the bride and groom,” he said.

  “The bride and groom,” we chorused.

  Now it was Marvin’s turn. He retrieved his notes from his wrist tablet and cleared his throat. In a faltering voice he thanked the bride’s parents for laying on such a splendid meal, but as he warmed to his task his confidence appeared to grow. “I consider myself to be the most fortunate of men,” he continued. “No one could wish for a sweeter or more lovely wife than Liv, er Livia.” I remembered that he’d confided in me that her mother didn’t like her name to be shortened. A sideways glance revealed that the bride’s mother’s face bore a forced smile.

  “I expect you all know that I first spotted Livia in the shop where she was working at the time. Somehow I managed to pluck up courage to approach her. I’d really never done anything like that before, but I am just so very glad I did. I’d like to thank all of you for coming.” He raised his glass to the guests. “And also I’d like to thank my best man, Symon, for all his support over so many years. Now I would like to propose a toast to the lovely bridesmaids, Ruby and Meena.” He raised his glass again and sat down to spontaneous applause with obvious relief.

  My moment had arrived and I told myself that the wedding guests had just enjoyed a decent meal, accompanied by psychotropic cocktails and alcohol, and should be in a receptive state. I surveyed my audience. They looked harmless enough so I launched into my speech. “Marvin and Livia, Mr and Mrs Garrett, ladies and gentlemen, I was very honoured when Marvin asked me to be his best man. He has been my best friend since we were both at school and we have shared a great deal over the years since we first met. As many of you already know, Marvin and I are cousins and you know what they say: you can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family.” I paused for effect, realising as I did that my last statement made little sense. The natives were beginning to look restless. This was the third speech and still there hadn’t been a joke. I would soon put that right.

  “I am reminded of the story about an expedition to a distant planet called Procerus where the gravity is twice that on Earth. The intrepid explorers, wearing special suits that helped to lessen the ill effects of megagravity, journeyed deeper and deeper into a forest, which was in an area of the planet where no man had previously set foot. At dusk on the third day they entered a clearing in which stood a small furry creature with a long pointed nose and large, sad-looking eyes. From time to time it gave a plaintive cry that sounded like, ‘nine, nine’. The leader of the expedition conferred with a zoologist in the group. They were both convinced that this was a species of animal that had never been seen before. Indeed it was difficult to determine what other creature amongst the local fauna it might be related to. The animal was easily captured and a makeshift cage was constructed so that they could take it with them. Because of its cry they decided to name it the ‘nine’.

  “The cage was transported all the way from the depths of the forest to the team’s base. From there it was transferred to a spaceship and, accompanied by the zoologist, the nine travelled to Earth and then by road to London Zoo. A new enclosure was created and the nine was put on display. As the weeks and months passed the animal grew in size until it was far too big for its modest accommodation. It was transferred to another, but soon outgrew that as well. It seemed that this strange animal would go on growing indefinitely. An emergency meeting was called to discuss the problem of the nine and a number of experts in different fields were invited to attend. One of them was a professor of cosmology who explained that it was the relatively low gravity on Earth that was making the animal grow so fast. ‘The best plan,’ he said, ‘would be to send it back to Procerus.’ An expert on spaceship design explained that they didn’t
have a spaceship big enough to transport the animal. ‘Couldn’t you build a bigger one?’ asked the meeting chairman. ‘The trouble is that by the time we had finished constructing it the animal would have grown so much that it still wouldn’t fit,’ replied the expert. At this point an aged professor of physics, with white hair and a long flowing beard, rose to address the meeting. ‘I think that a discovery that I and my research team made recently may be helpful in this case,’ he said. ‘We have discovered a parallel universe which is five minutes out of phase with our own. The thing is that everything there is the opposite of everything here. Things that are big here are small there and vice versa. Therefore, if we could transfer the nine to this parallel universe, it would become smaller. I am happy to be able to announce that we have just perfected a method of travelling between the two universes which I believe would be applicable in this case.’ ‘This is good news,’ said the chairman. ‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that a glitch in time saves nine!’ ”

  I was gratified to see that at least some of the guests were laughing and not surprised to observe that the bride’s mother was not among them. Growing in confidence, I pressed on. “It is traditional on these occasions to tell a story or two about the bridegroom. Far be it from me to break with tradition. One day when I was still at school and Marvin was in his first year at university he came to visit my family during the summer holidays. He was unaware that my brother, Tom, had acquired a budgerigar, which was in a cage behind the armchair in which he was sitting with a cup of tea. Tom had left the cage door open and as Marvin was raising the cup to his lips the bird flew out straight over his head. He jumped in surprise and the tea spilled all over him as he let out a cry of… well, let’s say it was something like ‘botheration’. How we laughed; he looked so funny, with his arms and legs flying in all directions.”

  With my speech out of the way, I felt able to relax a little. Until that point I’d been too preoccupied to pay much attention to the bridesmaids. At the wedding breakfast I found myself next to Ruby, a plump girl with wispy dark hair and high colour in her cheeks. During the meal I’d engaged in small talk with her and learned that she was Liv’s cousin and worked as a teacher. I seemed to remember that Liv had said she was a lesbian.

  Further down the table sat the other bridesmaid, Meena, who was taller and slimmer than her colleague. I contrived to glance discreetly at her and was pleasantly surprised by her appearance. Her blonde hair was shoulder length and parted down the middle. Her dress revealed part of her shapely shoulders and her long, slender neck. I think it was the unblemished, creamy colour of her skin that really caught my eye. She was in conversation with the guest on her right so that I couldn’t see her face at first, but as she turned away from him to take a sip of wine from her glass, I glimpsed her large blue eyes and regular white teeth. I decided to introduce myself to her at the first opportunity.

  At the end of the meal Marvin and Liv left the table to circulate amongst the guests. One by one, those who were seated at the top table followed suit. As soon as a place next to Meena was vacated, I slipped from my seat and occupied it. She turned to see who was there.

  “Hello,” I said, with as much nonchalance as I could muster, “I’m Symon.” Now I was looking into her face for the first time. There was no doubt that she was very pretty, and yet when her face was analysed item by item, this was surprising. Her nose was large for a woman and her mouth relatively small. And yet in combination with her high cheekbones, large eyes and neat chin these features were attractive, almost beautiful.

  “Pleased to meet you, I’m Meena,” she said smiling.

  “How do you come to know Liv?” I asked.

  “We were at school together. I suppose you could say we were best friends. Anyway we’ve kept in touch ever since.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “London. I share an apartment with two other girls. What about you?”

  “I live in London as well; I’m a trainee manager.”

  “I’m a secretary. I work for a bank.” She paused and gave a cheeky little smile. “I enjoyed your speech.”

  “Thank you, I wish I could say I did. I really hate public speaking.”

  Ruby approached the table from the other side of the room to tell Meena that Liv wanted a word with her. Reluctantly I watched her leave. I didn’t have another chance to speak to her until the happy couple had left for their honeymoon. As we re-entered the hotel after seeing them off, I offered to buy Meena a drink. She declined, saying that she had a transit vehicle to catch and would have to change at once and make her way to the station. All I could do was tell her how much I’d enjoyed meeting her and that I hoped I’d see her again. That could so easily have been the end of it. It would have been a pleasant interlude that I could have looked back on with fondness and a little regret. As it was, it proved to be a significant turning point in my life.

  Chapter Eleven

  I managed to acquire Meena’s comms code from Marvin, when he returned from the honeymoon, and, screwing up all my courage, I gave her a call. On the first occasion I got a ‘Meena unavailable’ message, but the following evening I was luckier. I felt a thrill as I heard her familiar voice and saw her face on my wrist tablet.

  “Hello Meena, this is Symon,” I said nervously. “We met at Marvin and Liv’s wedding. I was the best man.” I feared that she might not remember me and was relieved when she replied, “Oh yes, hello Symon, of course I remember you. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Look, I was wondering if we might meet up, you know, for a drink or something. If you’d like to, that is.”

  “Yes OK, when did you have in mind?”

  “Are you free tomorrow evening?”

  “Yes, that would be alright.”

  We arranged to meet at a bar close to the River Thames. I arrived early in a state of extreme anxiety. I ordered a cocktail and perched uneasily on a barstool which gave me a clear sight of the door. I looked at my wrist tablet. It was five to eight and Meena was not due until eight o’clock. The time passed and I noted with unease that my glass was empty. My nervousness had led me to request a large dose of relaxation in my drink and I could feel it taking effect with a vengeance. I ordered a stimulant to lessen its effect and continued my vigil. At five past eight there was still no sign of her. Possible explanations flooded into my mind. Perhaps she’d gone to the wrong bar, or maybe she’d missed the transit vehicle. Worst of all, perhaps she’d thought better of agreeing to meet me. Quarter past eight. I finished my second cocktail and my anxiety level started to rise. I tried to pull myself together. How could it be so important that I met up with this woman to whom I’d spoken for such a short time? It was true that I found her very attractive, but perhaps I would find when I got to know her better that her personality didn’t match her looks. After all, what did I really know about her? Liv had never spoken of her before the wedding and Marvin had only met her once or twice, so he was of little help. I wondered whether I should call her to find out if she was on her way, but it occurred to me that she might have decided not to come and if that was so my call would cause embarrassment on both sides.

  Twenty-five past eight. I was becoming resigned to finishing my third cocktail (relaxation with a dash of sociability) and sheepishly returning home when the door opened and in she came, obviously a little out of breath. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “The transit vehicle broke down. I was afraid you wouldn’t wait.”

  “What would you like to drink?” I said smiling reassuringly.

  “Whatever you’re having,” she said.

  I have often wondered how differently my life would have turned out if I had left before Meena arrived that evening. Of course, it’s perfectly possible that we would have met by chance on another occasion. I might even have called her again, such was my enthusiasm to make her acquaintance at the time. But if we’d never met again, perhaps I would have me
t somebody else with whom I could have enjoyed a lifelong partnership. Such speculation is, of course, futile. I’ve often thought that we have far less control over our lives than we imagine.

  I paid for the cocktails and we made our way to a table a little away from the bar. Now I had the chance to look at her again and she was every bit as gorgeous as I remembered. She was flushed as a result of running from the transit station and that, together with the gentle heaving of her bosom caused by breathlessness, made her all the more alluring. Conversation came easily and I was surprised when I heard the bell that signalled closing time. While we had been inside the bar it had rained and the pavements were glistening under the streetlights. We crossed the road and walked along by the river, stopping briefly to watch a commercial craft of some description as it slid silently under Blackfriars Bridge. All too soon we had reached the transit station and found her ATV ready to depart. As she was about to board I leant forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Can I see you again?” I said.

  “That would be nice, give me a call,” she replied with a smile and then she was gone.

  Over the next few weeks we met regularly and I became increasingly convinced that Meena could be the woman I’d been looking for. I discovered that there were a number of things which we both liked doing, and I found her an amusing and agreeable companion. I enjoyed the envious glances I received from other men when were out together and the favourable comments about her from friends and acquaintances.

  It soon became evident to me that she had a straightforward, unquestioning view of the world. In some ways I envied the simplicity of her outlook, but I wished that she would join in the discussions about current affairs and abstract ideas, which I so much enjoyed. By contrast Liv would always join in with these discussions and while her views sometimes lacked sophistication, she was always ready to fight her corner with all the powers at her disposal.