The Break Up: The perfect heartwarming romantic comedy
Page 23
Twenty-One
It was lucky that the wedding Betsy was meant to be covering that day was a low-key affair. Well, as low-key as it was possible for a Roman-themed wedding to be. The couple were remarkably undemanding in all respects – apart from the fact that the groom had dressed as a centurion and the bride was robed in a diaphanous white toga complete with gold diadem. The service was to be conducted in the quite recently excavated amphitheatre paying homage to various Roman gods, where the guests were dressed as various members of Roman society, and where food such as fermented fish sauce and fire-baked apples was to be served to guests lying down on blankets. (This was how, Lara discovered from a very enthusiastic groom, the Romans would have eaten it.). They were more concerned with having fun than anything else, and Lara was as sure as she could be that if the odd mishap occurred, they’d probably just shrug it off and store it in their anecdotes of the day.
At least that was what she hoped, because Betsy had chosen this day to get her first bout of morning sickness.
‘All the books say it’s supposed to stop by now, not start,’ her apprentice complained as Lara went with her to set up at the amphitheatre and run through once more everything she had to do before going. Lara didn’t want to leave her to it, but she really didn’t have a choice.
‘Perhaps it’s a one-off,’ she said hopefully. ‘Maybe it’s just nerves about today. After all, it’s your first solo run. Perhaps once it gets underway you’ll relax a bit and feel better.’
‘I hope so,’ Betsy said, ‘because, right now, if I see one of those fermented fish things I’ll be chucking up all over the place.’
‘Well, if you happen to be near the feasting then please avert your eyes.’
‘My mum wanted to come with me to make sure I was OK.’
Lara smiled. ‘Well, that would have been OK with me.’
‘I didn’t want her to. She’d be sticking her nose in all the time.’
‘I’m sure she’s just got your best interests at heart. I’m glad that the talk with them went OK and that they took it so well. It just goes to show, doesn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘That sometimes when we’re scared of doing something, there’s really no need to be. It’s usually not as bad as we fear.’
‘Do you think that about your wedding later?’ Betsy asked with a sly look. ‘You’ll have to see Theo, won’t you?’
‘Only on stage – probably not to talk to.’
‘What if he wants to talk to you?’
‘I’ll be working so I won’t have time,’ Lara said briskly. She hadn’t told her assistant about Theo’s visit two nights ago and she wasn’t about to. As far as Betsy was concerned, Lara hadn’t seen Theo since they’d split up.
‘What if he comes to you afterwards?’
‘He’s not going to come to me afterwards. I’ll be busy then, anyway. Listen, have you got that list?’
Betsy held up her phone. ‘It’s on my notes.’
‘And your phone’s charged?’
She nodded.
Lara was thoughtful as she looked at her. ‘I might get my mum to come down and see if you’re alright once the service is over. You shouldn’t need to get too involved in that, apart from making sure the board is up with the order of the day before it’s over. You need to make sure the caterers know where to set up to hand out the champagne – or whatever that weird wine is they’ve chosen – for the toast and that they don’t start uncorking the bottles until the registrar has pronounced Dave and Patricia man and wife. But make sure there’s enough being poured so that everyone gets a drink as soon as they arrive at the table. That OK?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Then you need to make sure the speeches run on time. You’ve got the schedule for that?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘There’s going to be some Roman music or something while they eat and then that’s it. Dave’s taken care of that but you need to make sure it doesn’t run over or they’ll get charged extra for the use of the amphitheatre. So if you need to get a bit bossy and boot people out, Dave says you can.’
‘OK,’ Betsy said.
‘You need to make sure the caterers take everything away with them afterwards,’ Lara added. ‘And check round for rubbish or damage once everyone is gone.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘If there is anything, call me and tell me what it is and we’ll figure out what to do.’
‘I will.’
‘You’re sure you’re going to be alright?’
‘Yes,’ Betsy said, though she didn’t look all that sure.
‘I’ll call my mum. Would it make you feel better to have her around?’
‘Yes…’ Betsy began, ‘as long as…’
‘What?’
‘Well, sometimes she makes things worse, doesn’t she?’
Lara paused. She had to concede that Betsy had a point there. ‘It’ll just be moral support more than anything – I’ll make sure she knows that you’re in charge.’
‘Oh, OK,’ Betsy said, looking far happier at the prospect of being in charge. The fact was, she wasn’t in charge of very much if it was just Fay, but Lara didn’t say so. A little confidence boost never hurt anyone. ‘Just don’t let her carry any vases. Or talk to the wedding party. Or get on any ladders… It’ll be just fine… On second thoughts, perhaps you’ll be alright on your own after all.’
Betsy nodded, but then she clamped a hand to her mouth. ‘I think I might be sick again…’
Lara watched as she rushed off for the nearest public toilets. With a sigh, she called her mum.
‘Hello,’ Fay said. ‘I thought you were working today.’
‘I am. Today’s the day that we have that double booking. Betsy’s supposed to be doing one and I’m doing the other. But today’s the day that Betsy has also decided to be sick.’
‘Oh, does that mean you don’t have her?’
‘She’s here but I’ve seen her in better shape.’
‘Poor thing.’
‘I know. Listen, Mum, what are the chances of you coming down for a few hours to help her out? It wouldn’t be much – just a bit of moral support and to keep an eye on her in case she really gets sick.’
‘Well, I said I’d take some jumble down to St Dominic’s…’
‘Oh, well if you’re busy it doesn’t matter.’
‘I suppose I could do it another day.’
‘This wouldn’t be all day here – I reckon you’d be done by around five. We have to be out of the venue by then anyway. I’d be ever so grateful; I am a bit nervous about leaving Betsy alone considering it’s her first one and she’s not at her best.’
‘It might take me a while to get to the town centre – buses are terrible on Saturdays.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Lara said, ‘I’ll come and pick you up now. We can be back before the service starts.’
When Lara arrived at her mother’s house, she was amazed to discover that miracles did happen. Fay was ready and waiting outside on the pavement. Perhaps Lara could see it as a good omen – she’d have to consult one of the Roman gods at the amphitheatre before she went off to Fiona Wilson’s wedding just to be sure.
‘Thanks so much, Mum,’ she said as Fay got into the car at the passenger side.
‘That’s alright,’ Fay said. ‘I can sort out my jumble another day.’
‘What are you sending?’
‘A few of my books and magazines.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Lara said as she pulled away from the kerb. ‘Don’t tell me you’re actually letting some of those go!’
‘I decided they were getting in the way. Sometimes you have to clear away a bit of clutter, don’t you, even if you’d quite like to keep it.’
‘If you need some help, let me know.’
‘You’re so busy I don’t like to ask.’
‘I know, but I’d make time for you.’
‘You’re a good daughter.’
‘I try to be.’
‘Have you?’ Lara turned a corner and joined the main road. She slowed to a halt as a set of lights turned red and looked at her mum.
‘Yes,’ Fay said. ‘And then do you know what happened?’
‘What?’
‘Mandy told me that she’d seen Siobhan. Did you know she’s pregnant?’
Lara turned to face the road again as the lights went green. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Actually, I did.’
‘I said she would be. Why else would that man marry her?’
Lara shrugged. She’d had a lot of time to think about all this and the last conversation she’d had with Siobhan, and she’d come to the most unlikely conclusion. For all his faults, for all his vanity, for all the games he liked to play, maybe Lucien did actually love Siobhan. Maybe they did have a future, and maybe their marriage would be a success, and maybe they’d be brilliant parents. Siobhan would make a fantastic mother – of that Lara was certain, even if she couldn’t be certain of anything else. Siobhan’s child would want for nothing and would be loved like no child was ever loved – at least by its mother. And maybe fatherhood would be the making of Lucien too. So far, there’d been no more mischievous texts from him trying to stir things up. That was either because he felt he’d done all the damage he’d set out to, or because he was genuinely trying to keep the promise he’d made to Siobhan to change his ways.
Lara allowed herself a rueful smile. Stranger things had happened. It meant one thing – in an odd way, Siobhan’s pregnancy had also drawn an unexpected line under that episode of Lara’s life. Siobhan and Lucien were about to be parents, and that changed everything. Perhaps it was why Siobhan had been so keen to make peace in the end. Now that they’d resolved things, Lara wished Siobhan well. It didn’t change the circumstances of the betrayal, but it did mean that Lara was finally ready to put it behind her. She hoped for Siobhan’s sake, for the sake of their baby, who was innocent of any wrongdoing, that Lucien would be the husband and dad they deserved.
Fiona arrived at the register office in a classic Rolls-Royce, while a large number of her guests were ferried in aboard vintage open-topped buses. She stepped out from her car looking regal and a little bit enormous. Not because she was in any way big, but because the skirt of her dress was full enough to take up a good four feet around her. It consisted of layer upon layer of white tulle, overlaid by a final layer that was embroidered by vibrant scarlet roses. It was finished with a boned scarlet and black bodice with a dramatic sweetheart neckline. Her dark hair was scraped into a huge bun and studded with red roses that matched those on her dress, and her make-up was equally striking.
In comparison, her husband-to-be, Connor, looked like a forlorn bank manager who’d found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time and now seemed to be getting unexpectedly married. His suit was charcoal grey and exceptionally ordinary, as were the suits of his ushers and best man. In contrast, Fiona’s bridesmaids all wore dresses of white tulle that, for some, could be wedding dresses in their own right. It was only when they stood against Fiona that the difference was obvious.
Once the short service was done, Fiona wanted photos on the main street of Chester before they went on to the reception venue for the wedding breakfast. They began with her standing on the Rows in front of shoppers like some minor celebrity, then photos under the old clock that stood over the gates and greeted visitors to the city. And then she wanted photos in front of the many Tudor buildings that lined the main streets, and so everyone had to trail behind her as she went from place to place. And then she insisted that she needed some in front of the weathered old stone cross that marked where the market used to be. And then some in the Roman Gardens, and atop the city walls, and on the Victorian bandstand and by the river.
When Fiona suggested driving out to the zoo, the photographer had to draw the line, which was just as well because if she hadn’t, Lara might have had to. A trip out to the zoo just to get photos – lovely as the old manor house that provided the zoo its grounds was – would have seriously upset the finely tuned schedule of the day. In fact, they were already running late for the sit-down meal. In the end, Fiona seemed content that she’d drawn quite a crowd everywhere she went.
So they’d gone on to one of the poshest hotels in the city centre for their reception. Lara went ahead in her own car, leaving everyone else to follow in the transportation that had been provided for them by the wedding couple. Many of the guests had already taken full advantage of the fact that they didn’t need to drive and were well on their way to inebriation, helped by the fact that Fiona had taken so long having photos that some had been forced into the many bars and pubs that lined Chester’s streets just to stave off the boredom while they waited for her.
Jazzy Chas and the Anglo-Sax-ons were already in the tiny car park at the back of the venue, unloading equipment from their van.
‘Alright?’ Chas called.
‘Fine,’ Lara said coldly. ‘Everything alright here?’
‘Yep. Don’t worry; we’ll all be on our best behaviour for you.’
Lara nodded. Chas showed no signs of knowing what the situation was between her and Theo, but she assumed that he did. She didn’t know where the conflict that had split them had originated from – had Chas said the horrible things about her that Siobhan had repeated, or had they come from Lucien? She wanted to ask Chas, but if it had come from him she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing they’d had such a devastating effect on her.
The next moment, Theo himself emerged from the back of the van. He looked at her silently, and she wondered whether he’d try to strike up some kind of conversation. But then he simply looked away again.
‘Is there any chance the soundcheck can be done before the speeches begin?’ Lara turned back to Chas. ‘It wouldn’t do to interrupt them with a load of noise.’
‘We’ll do our best,’ Chas said. He looked as if he might say something else but then seemed to catch a warning look from Theo and immediately clamped his mouth shut again. Lara held back a frown. Had something gone on between them? Was it to do with her? Theo said nothing and continued inside with an amp he was carrying.
‘If you could I’d appreciate it.’ She had to keep reminding herself that she was here to work and she needed to focus. Getting into that kind of conversation right now wasn’t professional and wasn’t particularly helpful either.
Pushing the idea from her mind, she began to walk towards the hotel. Her gaze trailed over the exterior of the building. It was like so many – a relic of Chester’s long history. It had been built around the sixteenth century, beautifully clad in hefty timber, but unlike the Tudor buildings that had been restored during the reign of Queen Victoria – painted the black and white that most people associated with Tudor architecture – this one had been restored to what would have been its original browns and beiges. It had window boxes at every frame filled with trailing lobelia and ivy, and heaving flowerbeds ran along the outside walls, the smell of lavender, sage and rosemary filling the air, busy with bees and butterflies.
Her attention was caught by a movement at one of the darkened windows, and she turned to look. She found herself staring right at Theo. He held her gaze for a second, before he moved away from the window and was swallowed up by the interior of the building. Her heart was hammering, as it had when she’d seen him at the van a few minutes before. She looked cool and collected, but it was a pretence, and a moment’s real inspection by anyone would undo her. She’d thought, as she started to work that day, that she’d be able to deal with this. She’d thought she could be professional about it and put her emotions to one side while she went about her duties. She was beginning to think she’d been very much mistaken.
Lara stood in a dark corner of the room and watched the stage. Jazzy Chas were into their third number and a lull in Lara’s duties meant that she found herself distracted by them. Actually, distracted by one m
ember in particular.
He looked good, she noted with some regret. The hands that had travelled her body on so many nights now travelled up and down the keys of his saxophone. The lips that had been pressed to hers were now moulded around the mouthpiece. The eyes that had gazed into hers now looked blankly out at the room. He was doing a good job of looking like he cared about his performance, but then, wasn’t he first and foremost a showman? Lara could see the truth, and it made her ache to go to him and tell him he was forgiven, that everything would be alright. She saw that he was sorry for what had happened between them, that he wished things could be different, because she recognised the look she’d seen in the mirror, of someone strangely incomplete where once they had been whole. She wondered…
Maybe she’d been too hasty in sending him away the night he’d come to make peace. Perhaps she’d reacted too quickly and too hotly. He’d got it wrong and he’d said it all wrong, but she thought now that perhaps his intentions had been sincere, even if he’d messed it up. He’d asked if the baby he’d thought she was carrying was his but perhaps that was a perfectly reasonable question given how long they’d actually been together. And perhaps it was an automatic first question that might come from the lips of any man. When he’d heard that Lara was pregnant, he could have run from that knowledge, he could have put his fingers in his ears and hummed to drown it out, he could have avoided coming to her and tried to evade his responsibility, but he hadn’t. He’d come to talk to her about it and he’d wanted to be involved – though she was sure the news would have been a shock had it been true. He would have stuck by her, and that said a lot about the man he was.
The song was winding down, and Lara caught another strange look pass between Chas and Theo as they played the final notes. She’d always known them to be on amiable terms, but she couldn’t see any of that now. What she saw now was distrust. She watched as Chas gave a curt nod at Theo and then pointed to something on a sheet of paper that Lara had to presume was the running order of the numbers they’d planned to play. Theo returned the nod with one just as short and began to play the opening bars of the next song.