‘Yes, thank you, Lucy, I hear what you’re saying.’
‘There’s no time like the present, girlfriend. Just saying.’
Rosie knew exactly when the opportunity to be properly alone with Matt would present itself. Her head told her it was all far too soon, and her mind skittered away from the thought. But her heart had other ideas, and one tantalising word whispered through her mind. Tonight…
Chapter Fifty-Eight
The tall, extraordinarily plain woman slid into a pew at the back of the church. She’d been to a few weddings before, but as Terry, not Tracey. Attending today’s wedding had been irresistible. Not many jilted fiancés were in the habit of watching their ex-lover marry another man, or turn up to watch the nuptials while dressed as a woman. A couple of guys had given her some odd looks, but Tracey had completely fooled the group of old dears sitting further along the row.
‘Excuse me,’ said one of them, shuffling her tweedy bottom along the bench until she was sitting closer. With her hawk nose and blue rinse, she was an imperious looking octogenarian. ‘Do you, by any chance, know the bridegroom?’
‘No,’ Tracey shook her head, revelling in the touch of soft brunette tresses against her bare shoulders, ‘only the bride.’
‘Well perhaps you could confirm the name of her future husband? I could have sworn the bride was marrying a chap called Terry, but the Order of Service has a line through his name. Instead, somebody has handwritten in Gregory. See?’ She waggled a heavily embossed leaflet at Tracey. ‘All a bit odd if you ask me. Surely, if the printers had made a mistake, they should have rectified it.’
‘I think there probably wasn’t enough time,’ Tracey explained. ‘But you’re absolutely right. Lucy was marrying Terry, but it turned out he was…enthralled with another woman.’
Blue Rinse’s eyes widened. ‘What a bounder.’
‘I wouldn’t be too hard on him,’ Tracey smoothed a crease from the skirts of her chiffon dress, ‘personally I think Terry was very misunderstood.’
‘Oh? Do you know Terry?’
‘As it happens, I do. Inside out.’
‘I have to say I’m finding this whole wedding very peculiar. I know the bride – Lucy – because she’s best friends with my daughter, Rosie. They have a lot in common with each other, particularly impetuousness,’ the octogenarian sniffed. ‘I suspect Lucy has only known this Gregory chap for all of two minutes, and yet here she is about to march down the aisle with him!’
‘Yes, it would seem that way,’ said Tracey. ‘Is your daughter a bit impulsive too?’
‘I’ll say,’ murmured Blue Rinse. ‘She’s only just buried her husband, but already she’s shacked up with another man!’
Tracey let out a low whistle. ‘Fast worker!’
Blue Rinse looked disdainful. ‘I suppose I should be grateful Rosie isn’t rushing into marriage, like Lucy.’
‘I guess so,’ Tracey nodded sympathetically, thrilled to bits that she was being treated as a woman and privy to such a gossip, even if it was with this disapproving battleaxe.
‘Actually I don’t feel particularly comfortable being here. My son-in-law’s recent funeral took place at this very church. I know there are flowers everywhere, and it looks extremely pretty, but all I keep seeing is dear Dave’s coffin blocking the aisle.’
‘How awful!’ Tracey’s hand fluttered to her chest, as if she was having the vapours.
‘Indeed, dreadful,’ Blue Rinse whipped out a tissue from her sensible handbag and daintily dabbed at her eyes. ‘I don’t know how Rosie can bear to follow Lucy down this aisle, knowing that she’s retracing the very steps her dead husband took – albeit horizontal and in a wooden box.’ Blue Rinse paused again, this time to blow her nose. Suddenly she froze, her eyes upon the best man who had joined the bridegroom and was teasing and pantomiming that he’d lost the bride’s wedding ring. ‘Talk of the devil,’ Blue Rinse hissed, ‘there is my daughter’s lover.’
‘Where?’ Tracey craned her neck expectantly.
‘By the altar,’ Blue Rinse pointed. ‘The unscrupulous cad is talking to Clive, the vicar.’
Tracey followed the direction of Blue Rinse’s finger. A good looking man in morning suit was now exchanging small talk with a vicar dressed from head to toe in gold. Tracey wasn’t sure whether Clive was channelling Archangel Gabriel, or the fairy on top of a Christmas tree.
‘Ah, yes, I see him. That’s Matt Palmer.’
‘You know him?’ Blue Rinse looked horrified.
‘Oh yes. Matt and I go back a long way.’
Blue Rinse suddenly looked suspicious. ‘Is he your ex-boyfriend?’
Tracey snorted. ‘No, nothing like that. We used to play football together.’
Blue Rinse looked as though she’d suddenly swallowed a gobstopper, but any further comments were drowned out by the organ crashing into life.
There were gasps of admiration as heads turned, all eyes seeking to catch the first glimpse of the bride. Lucy was visibly nervous, tightly gripping her father’s arm as they took the first step down the aisle. The bridesmaids followed. Rosie was holding both her posy and Luke who, dressed in a miniature morning suit, was causing many members of the congregation to chuckle and comment.
‘Ooh, look at that lovely baby.’
‘Aww, what a little duck.’
As the procession neared the altar, Karen stepped out from the second pew and relieved Rosie of Luke. Luke was about to protest but Karen swiftly popped a dummy in his mouth. If he wanted to exercise his lungs, he could do it later, while staying overnight with her. Karen cuddled Luke into her and exchanged smiles with Rosie who, in turn, switched her attention back to Lucy to assist with lifting up the bridal veil. Karen watched Rosie carefully arrange the veil so that it trailed perfectly down Lucy’s back. Both women looked absolutely stunning. Karen sighed happily. She wanted Rosie to have a good time tonight, without a tired baby hampering Maid of Honour duties. She was also secretly hoping Rosie might properly get it together with Matt Palmer. It was obvious they were deeply in love. Even from this distance, Karen could see the electricity sizzling between the two of them, as Matt caught Rosie’s eye, and gave her a wink. Karen determined to have a firm word with Rosie later. There was nothing like encouraging a budding romance to fully bloom.
The music swelled to a crescendo before abruptly stopping. Lucy fiddled anxiously with her bouquet and smiled at a beaming Gregory.
‘Dearly Beloveds,’ said Clive, ‘we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Lucy and Terry. Sorry, what’s that?’ Clive leant forward to confer with Lucy. ‘Ahem. I do sincerely apologise. Let me start again. Dearly Beloveds, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Lucy and Gregory.’
‘What a wonderful man,’ Hester murmured to Tracey.
‘Who, Gregory?’
‘No, silly, I’m talking about Clive. The vicar. He’s an excellent catch. If I were a few years younger, I’d pursue him myself. I’m hoping my daughter will bat her eyelids at him and catch his attention. I’d much prefer her to set her cap at a man of the cloth.’
‘I think the vicar is gay.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being gay,’ Hester’s voice rose, causing a woman in front of her to turn around and glare.
‘I quite agree,’ said Tracey, ‘but he’s hardly suitable for your daughter.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘I just told you. He’s gay.’
‘Yes, I heard you first time. And that’s fine by me. Frankly, there aren’t enough jolly people in this world, so I say the gayer the better. And you can take your eyes off him, madam,’ Hester pursed her lips, ‘and stick to being a wannabe WAG.’
‘Eh?’ Tracey looked bemused.
‘I’m making reference to your footie friend. If you could do a bit of flirting and take Matt Palmer off my daughter, I’d be immensely grateful.’
‘Ah,’ Tracey’s eyes widened as the penny dropped. ‘I’m not sure Matt Palmer would be hap
py with the likes of me.’
‘Don’t do yourself down, young lady,’ said Hester. ‘A bit more rouge on your cheeks and you’ll be as pretty as a picture.’
Tracey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
‘I now pronounce you man and wife,’ said Clive. ‘You may kiss the bride.’
Outside, in the warm summer sunshine, the bride and bridegroom gathered for everybody to throw confetti. Nobody noticed the tall, plain woman slip away.
Tracey was pleased Lucy had found joy with Gregory, and truly wished her lasting happiness. And now she was going to go and find her own piece of happiness. Last week she’d discovered a website for people like her. Cross-dressers. Even better, she’d met Harold. Except Harold was really Dina. The attraction had been instantaneous, both as Harold and Tracey, and as Terry and Dina. Humming to herself, Tracey hitched up her skirts, vaulted the low stone wall at the rear of the church, and left the wedding crowd behind.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
‘And finally,’ said Matt, addressing the sea of guests, ‘before I ask you to raise a glass to the newlyweds, I have a small piece of advice for the bride.’ Matt turned to face Lucy. ‘Just remember, if your husband says he’ll fix it, there’s no need to remind him every six months.’ The bride laughed uproariously, as did the wedding party. Many of the guests had consumed vast quantities of champagne throughout the wedding breakfast. The women were now flushed and fanning themselves, while the men had loosened ties and popped the top button on shirts. Matt turned back to the guests, a champagne flute held aloft in one hand. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, let us toast Mr and Mrs Tibor.’
‘Mr and Mrs Tibor,’ the crowd echoed.
Rosie sipped her champagne and looked at the bride and bridegroom. Lucy was looking ecstatic, and Gregory couldn’t take his eyes off his new wife. She watched as Gregory leant across and kissed Lucy full on the mouth. Rosie then glanced across at Matt, who caught her eye and grinned. She smiled back, just as there was a tap on her shoulder.
‘We’ll be off now.’ It was Karen, holding Luke in her arms.
‘So soon?’ Rosie stood up to give her young son a cuddle.
‘Yes, he’s tired, bless him.’
Rosie pressed her cheek against Luke’s and hugged him to her. ‘He’s been absolutely brilliant. Not one squawk in church, and no tantrums.’ She kissed the top of Luke’s head. ‘Well done, my darling.’
‘Say bye-bye to Mummy,’ Karen held her arms out to take Luke back. ‘Now you listen to me, Rosie. You’re child free for the night. Make the most of it. Get my drift?’
‘Oh for goodness sake,’ said Rosie as she handed Luke over, ‘you sound like Lucy.’
‘And for good reason. Never mind all this ‘emotional space’ nonsense. Life’s too short. Between your mother and Dave, you’ve been bogged down by obligations and drudgery for long enough. You’re a free agent now. You’ve found a guy who worships the ground you walk on, and also adores Luke. He’d slay dragons for you, that one. Indeed, he pretty much did when he took on that loan shark. The fact that he’s loaded and looks like a movie star is mere detail,’ Karen’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘What are you waiting for – permission from your mother?’
Rosie flushed. ‘No, of course not. My mother thinks the worst anyway. But she’s staying in this very hotel tonight, like many of us. I wouldn’t put it past her to stalk the corridor to see if I stay in my own room.’
‘If she thinks the worst already, why worry about it?’ Karen pointed out. ‘Seriously, Rosie, life isn’t a rehearsal. Just get on and live it.’ Karen took hold of one of Luke’s hands and waggled it up and down. ‘Bye-bye, Mummy,’ she said on Luke’s behalf.
Rosie leant forward and kissed Luke again. ‘Be good for Aunty Karen,’ she cooed.
‘Whereas Mummy,’ Karen said to Luke, jiggling him higher onto her hip, ‘must be very bad for Aunty Karen.’
‘Hmm, I don’t think it’s appropriate to discuss my romantic life with Luke,’ Rosie tutted with mock disapproval.
‘See you tomorrow. And I expect to hear all the juicy details.’
‘Good bye,’ said Rosie firmly.
The bride and groom were half way through their first dance when the DJ, noisy and tremendously keen on the sound of his own voice, urged everybody onto the dance floor.
‘C’mon you lot, let’s see you smooch. I said, let’s see you smooooch. Hey, chief bridesmaid, what are you doing over there impersonating a wall flower? Somebody, get hold of that woman! That’s it, well done my man! Oh, you’re the best man…brilliant. Ladies and gentlemen, we have our second romantic couple of the evening on the dance floor. Let’s be seeing more of you. That’s it…perfect.’
Rosie leant in to Matt and wound her arms around his neck. She could do it here. It was a wedding, and allowed. At that moment Hester waltzed past with Gertrude in her arms. She gave her daughter a ferocious glare, before whisking Gertrude off to the opposite side of the dance floor. Rosie stared after her mother in dismay. Is that what Hester truly wanted? To never see her daughter have a second chance at love? To end up alone, old, and partnering up for a dance with another widow, simply because she’d always ‘done the right thing’ by her own dead husband? For the first time Rosie felt some fire in her belly. To hell with keeping up appearances! Swaying slowly in time to the music, she gazed up at Matt. He smiled down at her before slowly lowering his mouth to hers. Gently, he kissed her. Rosie could almost feel her mother’s eyes boring into her back.
Later still, when Rosie was in her hotel room and in bed, alone, she lay on her back in the gloom and studied the ceiling. It was almost two in the morning, and sleep was evading her. She wondered if Matt, on the other side of her hotel bedroom wall, was still awake. Voices were clamouring in Rosie’s head. Lucy’s words, like an echo, were admonishing her. There’s no time like the present, girlfriend. Just saying. And hot on the heels of Lucy’s words, Karen’s reprimand ricocheted through her brain. Seriously, life isn’t a rehearsal. Just get on and live it. Rosie turned onto her right side. Five minutes later, she twisted over onto her left. Four minutes later she returned to lying on her right side. Three minutes later, she flipped onto her back again. Two minutes later she plumped up her pillows. One minute later she heaved a mighty sigh and flung back the duvet.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for her silky dressing gown and stuck her feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers. Padding across the carpet, she removed the plastic key card from its slot on the wall, and quietly let herself out of the room. Her eyes squinted for a moment against the corridor’s lighting, artificial and bright. She glanced up and down the corridor, half expecting her mother to appear. It was empty. The only noise came from a giant moth in the dark night outside, repeatedly bashing itself against the brightly lit glass window. Rosie let the door shut behind her and walked the half dozen steps or so to Matt’s room. Cupping an ear to the door, she listened. A moment later she gave a gentle knock. Five seconds passed. Her heart rate was starting to pick up. The five seconds became ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Her heart was now beating in time to every passing moment. She flattened her head against the panels and strained to catch any sound at all. Maybe Matt was in such a deep sleep she wouldn’t be able to awake him. Maybe he was snoring for England and oblivious to her taps on the door. Or perhaps he slept with ear plugs in? Or maybe–
Without any warning the door opened and Rosie fell into the room.
‘Sorry,’ she gasped, ‘I wasn’t sure if you were still awake.’ The door smartly shut behind her. The room was pitch black. ‘Matt? Where are you?’
‘Behind you.’ A hand touched Rosie’s arm. ‘I was hiding behind the door. It wouldn’t have been polite to give any late night passers by a shock.’
‘What do you mean?’ Rosie turned to face him, eyes struggling to adjust in the darkness, but Matt was just a black silhouette.
‘I didn’t want to frighten anyone, I’ve got my hair curlers in and a face mask on
,’ Matt quipped. ‘But yes, to answer you, I’m still awake. I couldn’t sleep.’
‘Me neither,’ Rosie muttered. Suddenly she was trembling.
‘Are you cold?’ Matt put an arm around her.
‘N-no,’ Rosie said through chattering teeth, ‘not really.’
‘Yes, you are. Come on, get into bed for a moment. You need to warm up.’
Rosie allowed herself to be led across the shadowy room. There was the sound of a duvet being pulled back. She squinted into the gloom, as her eyes started to adjust. Seeing the edge of the bed, she got in and snuggled under the cover. A moment later the mattress shifted as Matt moved in beside her.
‘Here, come closer,’ he pulled her towards him. ‘That’s better. Are you warming up now?’
‘Y-yes, I think so.’
Rosie didn’t feel able to tell Matt that she wasn’t remotely cold, simply a nervous wreck. What was she supposed to do now? Make small talk? She felt slightly foolish, lying in his arms bundled up in her pyjamas and a dressing gown, while he was laying there wearing–
Rosie frowned in the darkness. What exactly did Matt have on?
‘Um, what are you wearing?’
There was a pause. ‘Nothing.’
Rosie gulped. The sound seemed to fill the room. ‘Oh.’
A minute ticked by.
The Perfect Marriage Page 25
