Perfect Imperfections (Moments Book 1)

by J Wells

  “But you were so beautiful, and you were my little girl; I just wanted to show you off. But it was more than that, Natasha, it was a way of keeping you close, keeping you safe.”

  For the first time in a long while she hugs me, but it isn’t just her arms around me, this is real. It makes me wonder if the intensity of her affection is why I’m so offhand with people, why I find it so hard to get close to anyone, and when I do, to be able to tell them how I feel. It’s like the feeling of suffocation has grown up with me.

  From the word go Josh was loving and romantic, everything most girls would want in a partner, but I wasn’t like most girls. Two years it took me to tell him I loved him, and I think by then I had drained every ounce of romance out of him and our relationship.

  “Don’t you think the way you were with me meant you neglected Adrianna?”

  “No, she was a tough nut, far stronger than you ever were. She didn’t need me, not in the way you did.”

  I pull away slightly and sit up straight.

  “You’re wrong, because everybody needs their mum. And Adrianna needs you there on Saturday, at her wedding, wearing one of those stupid hats that mums wear,” I joke, trying to make light of an awkward situation.

  I expect a slight smile or even a laugh, but I get neither.

  “Please, Mum…” I grab her arm. “Please. She’ll be devastated if you don’t go.”

  She gets to her feet, straightening her clothes, and then zips up her suitcase and pulls it off the bed.

  “If I go to Adrianna’s wedding I’ll feel like…” She pauses, biting her lip. “Like I’m letting you down.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re asking me to toast to your sister’s future, and in the next breath to look into your eyes knowing you haven’t got one.”

  I’m utterly lost for words but perhaps slightly on the way to understanding. I realise that earlier I had taken her words totally out of context.

  “Natasha, I need some space, some time away.”

  “How much time?”

  She shakes her head. “I really don’t know.”

  “I don’t get you. How can you want time away when I’ve got so little time left, and the small amount I do have is running out so quickly?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to be here for you, I simply can’t cope with any of this; your cancer, your dad, Adrianna, the wedding. I can’t cope with life.”

  She turns a small gold key in the door of her wardrobe and opens it wide. She has her back to me so I can’t see, but I can hear her searching the shelves. She turns back to me holding a bottle of whisky by the neck. She looks down at the bottle, her constant companion.

  “You see, Natasha, the decision you’re making isn’t one that affects just you. You’re not the only one who’s losing your life, we all are.”

  Danielle dropped Adrianna and Logan off at Mum and Dad’s and headed to her folks to get ready. At 9.30 a.m. our house was already in chaos, the lounge full of giggling women. Dad paced back and forth from the kitchen with mugs of steaming tea and coffee. Logan screamed at the top of his voice and ran round the room juggling rollers and hairpins, and poor Darcy spent the entire time chasing round after him. The minute she took something out of his hand, he’d turn round and find something else he shouldn’t have, and so the game started over.

  Kate, the beautician, was stressed beyond belief; she’d been stuck in traffic and arrived half an hour late. Logan made matters worse by emptying her entire make-up bag. I glanced at Dad’s face and could see he was totally overwhelmed. I smiled to myself when minutes later he suggested going out for a drive and taking the bab with him. Darcy looked somewhat relieved at his suggestion. He scooped Logan up off the easy chair, and opening his little fingers prised the car keys out of his hands. Just before he left, he told us he was going to drop in at Aunt Nancy’s, and hopefully see Mum and talk her round. Adrianna frowned and jerked her head towards him. Kate jumped and shouted at her to sit still, but the damage had already been done, as brown mascara was smudged up the side of her face and into the edge of her hairline. Kate being a perfectionist insisted on starting again, so removed her make-up with cleanser.

  Adrianna pleaded for Dad not to go; she knew it was a good hour’s car journey to get to Nancy’s. She could just about live with one parent not turning up and missing her big day, but not both of them. She wanted her dad there to see her in her dress, and wanted him to walk her up to Danielle’s side as she stood waiting.

  I felt kind of useless; it was like everything around me was going on and I was on the outside looking in. I sat by the window while Adrianna and Darcy had their hair styled and make-up applied. It was nice to see the look on Adrianna’s face when Kate clipped in her long auburn hair extensions; she’d managed to grow her hair to just the right length to make extensions possible. I couldn’t help feeling a tinge of jealousy watching her apply Adrianna’s false eyelashes; that was supposed to be my job and one I had been particularly looking forward to.

  Then Lilly and Primrose, Danielle’s half-sisters, arrived, and were chatting away in the lounge waiting to be made up before we all went upstairs to slip into our bridesmaid dresses. I must admit I felt quite embarrassed, as I think I dozed off a few times and woke myself up snoring, but hopefully no one noticed. When my time came to sit in the chair, Kate couldn’t do a great deal with my wig and so just ended up pinning a few wispy strands on the top of my head, adding some flowers here and there, and leaving the rest to fall free.

  Half an hour later, I smile at my reflection. I know it’s going to be a long day and that I’ll struggle, so at lunchtime I excuse myself and leave Kate to apply any final touches to the bride.

  I amble upstairs to my bedroom, fall back on the duvet and lie staring at the three portraits of myself that Gabriel had painted. My eyes wander towards the window and come to rest on my pretty red dress hanging on the outside of my wardrobe door. It looks tiny, but then so do I. I roll onto my side, lean over the bed and drag the scales from beneath. I step on, and standing still glance at my feet; last time I looked I was seven stone; the digital screen flashes and my eyes widen. I let out a long sigh and lie back on the bed, throwing the covers over my face.

  I toss and turn, unable to fall asleep; I can’t get it into my head that Mum won’t be here for the wedding. Dad’s trying his best, and maybe it would be a good idea if I took a leaf out of his book. I retrieve my phone from the bedside table, flick to my messages and search for Mum’s name. What have I got to lose?

  Mum, if I have to grovel to get you here then that’s fine, here goes. I know you and Adrianna don’t always see eye to eye. You don’t think you need her, but you’re wrong. Believe me, when I’ve gone, you will. But not only Adrianna, you’ll need your little grandson. Don’t let drink and your stubborn streak get in the way of what’s really important, your family.

  I take a deep breath, delete the last two words and rewrite in capitals: YOUR FAMILY. You’ve got to change for yourself as much as everyone else, make amends with the people you’ve let down. Admit to your drinking problem and please, Mum, seek help. If you don’t swallow your pride and come today, I think making amends will be a gap too far to bridge. Adrianna’s way too proud to grovel, but I’ve proved to you that I’m not. You’ve got a daughter here who needs you, and a daughter who’s crying out for her mum.

  I glance over the message a couple of times and can’t think of anything else to say, so feeling I’ve covered pretty much everything I press send. It’s almost like I’ve cleared my conscience, allowing me to relax and fall asleep.

  We pull up in our white Mercedes. Gabriel’s standing alongside Angela and Hughie outside the large doors of Fordwickston Hall. A few other people are in huddles, but I don’t recognise any of them and so assume they must be Danielle’s relatives. She did mention that the majority of her family lived overseas, so I guess she’ll introduce them after the service.

  It’s a typical December day, cold
and frosty, but very pretty. Frozen webs hang like gossamer silk, suspended between winter’s lustrous evergreens. The vast grounds have been transformed into a frosted white carpet, leaving little sign of the grass beneath. The trees we drove past only moments before that had stood shoulder to shoulder now seem to have distanced themselves, opening up their branches like a glimmering white curtain. Winter’s overbearing presence has silenced the chirping of birds and any other remnants of autumn.

  Darcy and I can’t stand still for shivering as Bert, the photographer, clicks away, his face hidden behind his long-lens camera. He points towards Lilly and Darcy.

  “Can you two stand behind the others?”

  Bemused, we stand looking at each other, not quite sure who’s supposed to stand where.

  “No, not like that,” he says, shooting an unsavoury glance at Primrose.

  Shaking his head, the strange little man runs between the four of us, placing us where he wants us.

  “Beautiful smiles,” he says, taking a step back, but our smiles are sniggers at his shiny black comb-over, which unknowingly his fingers have restyled into a floppy kind of Mohican.

  I glance down at my hands, which have very little feeling, and my fingers are turning an unsightly shade of blue.

  “Is she nearly done?” Gabriel calls over.

  Bert lowers the camera away from his face.

  “Probably be another ten minutes or so,” he calls back.

  Walking towards me, Gabriel undoes his suit jacket and removes it. Lilly steps aside and allows him to wrap it around my shoulders, the warmth of its lining sinking into my skin.

  The camera flashes.

  “Sorry, she won’t be able to wear that for the photos.”

  “She’s freezing,” Gabriel pipes up. “She won’t be taking it off.”

  Frowning, Bert’s round face contorts and he stands muttering under his breath, but no more is said as Adrianna’s white limo pulls onto the driveway. The chauffeur steps out, opening the door. It seems we’re now more of an afterthought, since Bert has forgotten us and scurries towards the bride. With Logan held tightly in his arms, Dad’s the first to appear. Logan looks a picture; to be honest they both do in their matching grey three-piece suits and red dicky bows. Bending her head, Adrianna steps out of the limo, straightening the train of her dress. More people are milling around, having stepped outside to see her arrive.

  I nudge Gabriel.

  “Look, Michelle, Josh and the baby,” I whisper.

  Josh acknowledges me with a wave and a smile, and I lift my hand, acknowledging him back.

  “That’s Josh?” Gabriel loosens my waist. “So he’s the cheating bastard.”

  “Shhhh, not here.” I grab his hand, pushing it back down to his side.

  Adrianna’s having a couple more photos taken with Logan and Dad’s standing not far from the limo chatting to Angela and Hughie. I gaze across the driveway and manage to catch his attention. I raise my eyebrows, to which he shakes his head; his visit to Aunt Nancy was obviously a wasted trip and Mum isn’t coming after all.

  The warmth of Gabriel’s jacket has worn off and I’m standing dithering in his arms. Reluctantly he slips his jacket over his arm and allows me a quick photo with Adrianna, Dad and Logan and another of just the two of us. Then he turns me round and whisks me inside, where we wait in the grand hallway for the bridal party to enter.

  I peer between the marble pillars and into the transformed dining area. The room has been stripped, chairs stand in rows and a red carpet has been laid as an aisle between them. A fir tree has been cut from the garden and decorated with red baubles and silver tinsel; I admire it standing in a brightly coloured ceramic pot at the far side of the sash window. Decorative candelabras have been sited equidistantly, and adorning the back of each chair is a small sprig of holly, the red berries adding that little something extra to the Christmas-themed room. Dressed in a deep crimson suit and shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Danielle is standing at the front, not far from the makeshift altar, her hands clasped behind her back. She must have heard us enter, and turns her head and waves.

  “Hey, Tash,” she hollers. “Do you think there’s still chance for me to do a runner?”

  “Not if Adrianna does one first,” I shout back, grinning.

  Being Adrianna’s maid of honour, I was to walk behind her and stand during the ceremony. But my energy reserves were at an all-time low and I really wasn’t sure that my legs would hold me, so we made our way to the front row of chairs. I sat at the very end, so that if I wanted to get to my feet and stand for a while, I could. It was a beautiful service, made more personal by the words they had written for one another. Adrianna and Danielle stood hand in hand, gazing into one another’s eyes as they recited their vows, with funny anecdotes and personal accounts of their relationship. ‘I do’ was on the tip of Adrianna’s tongue when the click of heels on the polished wooden floor disturbed the entire congregation. Every head in the room turned towards the hallway and the unbroken silence was now a hive of chattering voices.

  Adrianna burst into tears, seemingly unable to speak as she smiled over at Mum, her eyes saying just how much her coming today meant. Danielle opened her arms, and Adrianna turned and stood sobbing into her chest. Dad looked towards me, but didn’t utter a word. He simply got to his feet and made his way up the length of the room towards his wife. I couldn’t remember seeing her walk so upright and I certainly couldn’t remember her looking so smart. She looked directly ahead, and with Dad’s arm around her shoulder, he manoeuvred her into the seat next to his and once again the room fell into silence.

  The ceremony lasted around half an hour. Adrianna looked so proud with Mum on her arm as she took her round introducing her to Danielle’s family and friends. However, introductions were cut short as Bert ushered everyone back outside for photos. I hung round with Gabriel in the hallway, only stepping outside when needed. A handful of photos included Mum, and a couple more were taken with mother and daughter alone.

  Bert called for us all to regroup. He spent the next five minutes rushing round, positioning everyone like he had done with the bridesmaids earlier. His fingers were constantly ploughing through his hair, and considering how stressed he seemed I was surprised he had any left.

  When I caught sight of Adrianna a few minutes later her demeanour had changed. She was bustling through the guests, as if she was looking for someone. Danielle’s Aunt Edna, a portly old dear with a purple rinse, seemed unable to hold her tongue and was telling everybody she could that Mum had been seen getting into a taxi.

  Adrianna had distanced herself from the party and was sat alone on a small ornamental wall looking anything but happy, when I walked over to join her she shook her head, and said that Mum couldn’t even manage to stay for an hour. I lifted the bouquet from her lap and took her hands in mine.

  “She swallowed her pride and saw you get married, surely that’s all that matters?”

  Leaving Adrianna with these words, I ambled my way towards Angela and Hughie.

  They had decided against a traditional wedding breakfast, since this was no traditional wedding. Instead of a sit-down meal, they had put their heads together and decided on a hot buffet to be served throughout the afternoon and evening.

  Both the library and adjoining sitting room had been arranged to accommodate the buffet and disco. A selection of canapés in silver dishes and tall glasses of sparkling white wine were set out on a round table for guests to help themselves as they arrived. Waitresses in black and white tunics are scurrying round like a small army of ants, placing the main courses on the long rectangular tables situated along the back wall of the sitting room.

  Leaning slightly, I rest my hand on the polished arm of a tall carver chair and stand gazing around the room, people watching, as the second influx of guests begin to filter in. There are many new faces, including work colleagues and neighbours who’d been unable to make the wedding. I couldn’t miss Sylvia, dressed in a garish
pink and black dress. I roll my eyes as I watch her pass the canapés and head straight for the sparkling wine. Blatantly lacking in manners, she necks a glass in one large gulp, then walks away from the table with a full glass in each hand, smiling at everyone like butter wouldn’t melt.

  She looks my way and I try to hide; I can’t do small talk, not with her. I wait a moment before peering up. Shit, she’s waving at me with a large grin plastered across her face. She’s heading in my direction, but there’s absolutely no way I’m going to stand here talking to her. I grab the sleeve of Gabriel’s shirt, and he loses his balance as I pull him rather abruptly away from Primrose.

  “Natasha, we were talking!” she protests, quite taken aback.

  “Sorry, Primrose,” I whisper, widening my eyes and nudging my head in Sylvia’s direction in the faint hope she’ll understand.

  Crossing her arms, Primrose frowns.

  “Sorry, I’ll explain later,” I say under my breath as I lead Gabriel towards the library.

  There’s soft music playing in the background and the DJ’s equipment has already been set up; he’s teetering on the edge of a tall stool, attaching his wall lights in the corner of the room. Every few minutes he hops down to change the record. I could swear I’ve seen him before, but just can’t seem to pinpoint where. Then it hits me; he’s the DJ who played at Josh and Michelle’s engagement party. As I watch him, he looks my way, though it’s more than just a fleeting glance. Could he recognise me? But then I doubt it, considering how much I’ve changed.

  “Checking out the staff, are we?”

  I jump, feeling Gabriel’s hand slap my arse, and turn round to see him eyeing up the DJ.

  “Got competition, have I?” He winks.

  “Yeah,” I chuckle, giving him a playful prod to his side.

  He grabs my arm, spinning me clockwise into his chest.

  “If I play my cards right,” he mutters into my ear, “you might even agree to dance with me later.”

  My stomach flutters as the back of his fingers slowly stroke the inside of my arm down to my hand, then stop, circling the inside of my palm. Gazing up into his eyes I smile a poignant smile, thinking back to our weekend in London. I squeeze him tightly. If only...