by Shari Low
Over at the window, Celeste suddenly perked up. ‘Oh shit. They’ll kill you.’
Aggs bit her bottom lip, suddenly feeling nauseous as she thought it through. Would they be upset? Furious?
She closed her eyes, picturing her mum, her dad.
‘You can’t do this, Aggs,’ Celeste went on. ‘It would devastate them.’
Aggs blocked her out, trying to think. An image of her dad, on her twenty-first birthday, came into her head. He wasn’t a man who was prone to emotion, so when he’d raised a toast at the party they’d thrown in the café, she’d held her breath. ‘Agnetha, my love, you have made our lives wonderful for twenty-one years. Promise me that you’ll always be you, that you’ll make the most of every day of your life, and that you’ll always follow your heart.’
Wasn’t that what she was doing? Following her heart?
‘Oh shit, babe, are you changing your mind? I mean, if it’s a deal breaker I get it. I do. I just want you to be happy.’ She could hear the panic in Aaron’s voice, yet he was still putting her first.
Follow your heart, Aggs.
The solution came to her immediately.
‘No, but I need you to do something for me. I’ll marry you today, but as soon as we sort out the visa, will you come home with me and get married again there? I want my dad to walk me down the aisle and my mum to wear a big hat and…’
Celeste let out an audible groan.
‘… and Celeste to be bloody happy for me,’ Aggs added pointedly, grinning at her disgruntled pal.
Celeste ignored her and went back to staring out of the window.
‘Yes!’ Aaron visibly sagged with relief. ‘Yes, yes, yes. I got you. We’ll do it.’
Aggs climbed right back up on to cloud nine, everything clear to her now.
She checked her watch: 4.30 p.m.. ‘Okay, so here’s the plan. I’m going to grab my stuff and go to Celeste’s room, and then we’re going to go and find a shop and buy a dress. We’ve got two hours to find one. Oh, and a bridesmaid’s dress for Celeste. A flipping huge meringue, so that for once she won’t be sexier than me.’
Her attempt at appeasing her friend evoked no response, but Aggs shrugged it off. Celeste would get on board eventually, when she saw how right this was.
In the meantime, Aggs got up and wound her arms around Aaron’s neck. ‘And then I’ll get ready with Celeste in her room and I’ll meet you at the end of the aisle, Mr Ward. How does that sound?’
‘Pretty fricking perfect,’ he murmured, kissing her again. ‘I’m gonna go get something to wear too. Unless it’s okay for me to come like this?’
Aggs took in his cheeky grin, his pool T-shirt, his swim shorts. ‘Works for me.’
‘Right, that’s it!’ Celeste jumped up from the chair. ‘Come on, Juliet. Put Romeo down and let’s get going before I die of overexposure to all this fucking love stuff.’
Aggs kissed her fiancé again. Her fiancé! And in a few hours he’d be her husband. She still couldn’t quite believe it. ‘See you at seven o’clock?’ she murmured, happiness oozing from every pore.
‘See you at seven o’clock,’ he repeated, their eyes locked, a promise passing between them. Every shred of doubt or worry about her parents’ reaction was gone now. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with and she knew, just felt deep in her soul, that this was right.
Unfortunately, her friend wasn’t giving off the same vibe. Celeste tugged at the back of Aggs’ T-shirt. ‘Come on. Throw your stuff into your bag and let’s go.’
Reluctantly, Aggs surrendered. She’d only brought stuff for a weekend, so it only took five minutes to pack it all. Aaron pulled on a fresh Tshirt and a changed his shorts, grabbed his wallet, and then walked down the corridor with them. At the lift, Aggs kissed him again as he left, before following a stomping Celeste along another branch of the hallway to her room.
Inside, it took less than a second for Celeste to make her feelings even clearer. ‘What the hell was that about? Have you lost your mind?’
Aggs swallowed hard. She’d thought that Celeste’s barbs back in the room were just her usual moans about PDAs and general cynicism about life, but now she could see that Celeste’s reaction was so much more violent than she’d realised. ‘Celeste, I know it’s crazy…’
‘It’s fricking certifiable!’
‘But please, please try to understand. I love him. This feels right. I need to do it and I want you to be happy for me.’
‘So what, you’re just going to move over here and be across an ocean from me?’
As soon as Celeste said it, Aggs got it immediately. Shit. Celeste’s absolute worst nightmare was the feeling of being abandoned and now that’s exactly what she thought Aggs was doing to her. No wonder she was losing it.
‘Noooooo! I’m thinking you could move here, live with us, find a way to get a visa too. Celeste, they’d love you in LA and it’s the best place on earth to get modelling work, maybe even acting, too. We’ll work it out, I promise.’ Aggs meant every word, but she could see that Celeste wasn’t buying it.
Celeste threw down her bag and flopped onto the bed and Aggs knew better than to try to talk her round just yet. Give her time to calm down, let the temper subside, then she would make her see that this was a good thing.
‘I just feel bad for your parents,’ Celeste muttered.
Aggs knew that was only part of the story, but it gave her an idea. It was risky, but if it worked, it might at least get Celeste semi on board with this.
‘I know, I do too,’ Aggs admitted. ‘But look, I’m going to phone them and tell them, and if they forbid it, I won’t do it.’
Celeste pushed up on to her elbows.
‘Seriously?’
‘Absolutely.’
Aggs heart was thundering. Come on, Mum and Dad, don’t let me down.
The phone at their flat above the café rang and rang. Aggs calculated the time. It would be about midnight there right now. Maybe they were already asleep.
Still ringing. Still ringing.
‘Hello?’
Aggs immediately recognised the voice of Nancy, who worked the weekday morning shifts with her dad. Why would she be in her mum and dad’s flat at this time of night? It didn’t make sense.
‘Nancy, it’s Agnetha. Can I…’
‘Oh, Agnetha, I… I… Oh my God. Your mum hoped you might call tonight. Made me stay here just in case.’
Aggs didn’t get it. Nancy was practically hyperventilating and completely hysterical.
‘Nancy, what is it? What’s happened?’ Aggs pleaded.
‘It’s your dad, Agnetha. We had a late function tonight – a birthday party for the councillor who… Oh, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, he’d asked me to come in to help out and we’d just closed up, about nine o’clock, when he just collapsed right in front of me.’
Aggs buckled, bent double, as if she’d been punched in the gut.
‘Nancy, where is he now? Where’s my mum?’
In her panic, it took Nancy a moment to get the answers out.
‘The ambulance rushed him to hospital and your mum went with him. She tried to phone you, but she said there was no answer at the last number she had for you. She’d already been calling it all day to wish you a happy birthday.’
A landslide of guilt almost consumed her. She hadn’t called her parents on her birthday. With the time difference and all the drama, it had completely slipped her mind. And, of course, her mum couldn’t reach her – the only number she had was for Aaron’s apartment in LA. The landslide swallowed her whole, but still she could hear Nancy pleading.
‘Oh, Agnetha, I don’t know. I just don’t know if he’s… You need to get here, Agnetha. As soon as you can.’
Aggs dropped the phone.
Celeste, seeing that something was badly wrong, forgot her huff for a moment and jumped up. ‘What is it?’
‘I need to go,’ Aggs blurted. ‘It’s my dad. He’s collapsed.’ She was panting between ea
ch breath, trying desperately not to scream. Her dad. Her wonderful, fabulous dad. Please God, I’ll do anything, just let him be okay. Let him be okay. Let him be okay. Her brain went into repeat mode, no longer able to function.
Celeste picked up the phone. ‘Nancy, it’s Celeste. Tell Ella that we’re on the way. We’ll get back as soon as we can.’ She hung up, and immediately threw her arms around Aggs. ‘He’ll be okay. He’s got to be. Let’s just worry about getting back.’ She released her, and Aggs flew across the room and picked up her bag.
‘A flight! I need to get a flight. There’s a desk downstairs that arranges…’ Her mind went blank, racing to keep up. ‘Oh, fuck it, let’s go.’
Bag over her shoulder, she ran out of the room, Celeste sprinting to keep up with her.
The lift felt like it took an hour to get to the ground floor, and they stormed out of it as soon as the doors opened.
At the travel desk, a smiley woman greeted them. ‘How can I…?’
‘My dad! I’ve just found out that my dad has been taken ill, and it’s not good, and…’ The tears were falling now.
Celeste stepped forward and cut to the chase. ‘We need to get back to the UK now. Urgently. Can you help?’
The women’s eyes widened. ‘I usually only do excursions but…’
‘Please help us,’ Agnetha begged.
It was one of those situations where one human being feels another human being’s pain and bursts into action. ‘Hang on. My sister-in law works at the airport…’
She picked up the phone, dialled, explained the situation. Agnetha hopped from foot to foot, every second lasting a week.
‘Okay. Okay, let me tell them that.’ The guest services officer put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘There’s one seat left on a flight to LA that leaves at 6.30 p.m.. If you can get to the airport in the next forty minutes, you’ll just make it before they close the boarding. Then there’s a flight to London leaving LAX two hours after you get there. She can book you on that too.’
One seat. Aggs didn’t want to leave Celeste. She needed her friend with her, but her dad… she just had to get home to her dad.
‘Yes! Please! I’ll take it.’
‘But…’ Celeste began.
‘Celeste, I have to! What if… what if…’ She couldn’t say it.
Celeste got it, knew what she was thinking. ‘You’re right. Let’s go. Is your passport in that bag?’
Aggs tried to think, couldn’t, so she ripped open the zip. It was there. Thank God. ‘It’s here.’
‘Let’s go! Thank you. Please book the tickets for Agnetha Sanders. Here’s my credit card. Your receptionist took a copy of our passports when we checked in so all the details will be on there. Is that okay?’
The hotel employee nodded furiously. ‘Yes! I’ll make it happen. Go, go, go!’
The two of them dashed out of the hotel doors.
‘I’m coming to the airport with you,’ Celeste yelled, wrenching open the door of a waiting taxi before the uniformed doorman could even get near it.
The journey passed in a blur, Aggs willing the car to go faster, anxiety unbearable at every red light, every stop sign.
‘Come on. Come on. Come on.’ She said it over and over, willing them to get there.
They pulled up at departures with three minutes to spare, jumped out, Celeste throwing twenty dollars at the driver and not waiting for the change.
Still running, but… Fuck! A queue at the airline desk. She didn’t have time. There was no way she was going to make it. Her legs went weak, she stumbled…
‘Are you the girl from Caesars? My sister-in-law called…’
‘Yes!’ Aggs exclaimed to the suited check-in attendant who had appeared from a door behind the barriers.
‘Okay, I got you. Come over here.’ She beckoned her to a desk that was unopened, took her passport. ‘Okay, Miss Sanders…’ she said, reading the name as she input it into her computer.
That jarred something. Miss Sanders. Not Mrs Ward! She was bailing on her wedding and she hadn’t even been able to explain why or kiss him goodbye.
‘Celeste, can you go and find Aaron and explain what’s happened? Tell him I’m so sorry. And please, please tell him… tell him I’ll be back.’
‘Don’t worry, babe,’ Celeste assured her. ‘I’ll make it all okay.’
The airline official handed back her passport, together with a boarding card. ‘You’re good to go. Through those doors there, through security, gate six.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ She grabbed Celeste. ‘And thanks, Celeste. I love you.’ She kissed her, then took off, running, Celeste’s words ringing in her ears. ‘I’ll make it all okay,’ she’d said.
20
Hope
Update. I told him. He was lovely. Knows who my mum is. She’s Scottish but they met in LA. Eeeeek! xx
Hope pressed send on yet another text sent while she was sitting on a loo, this time the one in Aaron’s suite. This was becoming a habit today.
Maisie was straight back with a reply.
Wow. Was she an actress? I hope it’s Tilda Swinton. I bloody love her.
* * *
No, not actress. Still finding stuff out. More later.
* * *
Can’t stand this. I’m Netflix generation. Need everything in one binge.
* * *
Patience! Love you. Xx
* * *
Love you too. Just googled Tilda Swinton. You’ve got her chin. Xx
No one could make her laugh like Maisie.
Suppressing a giggle, Hope texted her mum next.
All okay, Mum. Will call you soon to fill you in on everything. Love you. Xx
The reply came while she was washing her hands.
Love you too, sweetheart. xx
No matter who her biological mother was, Dora McTeer would always be her mum.
Back out in the lounge area of the suite, Aaron… nope, she still couldn’t think of him as Dad… had just picked up the phone. ‘I’m going to order more coffee. What can I get you?’
‘Tea, please,’ Hope replied, amused that he appeared to be pondering her request.
‘Actually, I might join you on that. Time I started embracing my daughter’s culture,’ he said with a grin, before pressing a button and giving his order to room service.
Hope curled up on the sofa and watched him, fascinated by his mannerisms, his gestures, listening to his voice, and thinking she never wanted this day to end.
They’d left the restaurant half an hour ago, just after she’d asked him about how it ended with her mother. It was obviously tough for him to talk about, even all these years later. He’d hesitated. Squirmed a little. Then, at the moment he’d said, ‘It’s complicated,’ the waiter had passed again, and asked them if they’d like anything else. That’s when they’d realised they were the last people in the restaurant.
‘Shall we just get the bill and have a break? Maybe a bit of fresh air?’ she’d suggested, Aaron’s visible relief telling her she’d made the right call. They’d been talking face to face for hours. Some heat on their skin and a Vitamin D boost would do them good.
Outside, they’d chatted about the weather (no, it wasn’t always sunny like this), about Glasgow (yes, the architecture is stunning) and about her family (yes, her mum was supportive of her decision to find him) as they walked around the perimeter of the Blythswood Square gardens, passing the architecturally stunning Blythswood Square Hotel.
When they reached the Malmaison, Hope noticed the yellow Maserati that they’d almost rear-ended was gone. Presumably off to seek attention somewhere else. Enjoying the change of scenery, they’d cut into the centre of the park and sat on the grass for half an hour.
As they’d stretched out, Aaron had slowly shaken his head. ‘I still can’t believe I’m here. The closest I’ve come to Scotland was watching Braveheart.’
Hope had chuckled. ‘We’ve moved on a bit since then. Although, I do insist that all new boyf
riends wear blue face paint on a first date.’
That piqued Aaron’s interest. ‘Do you have a boyfriend now? Someone special?’
‘I’m studying to be doctor and working thirty hours a week in a hospital,’ Hope had deflected. ‘There hasn’t been time for romance since my first day of uni.’ She didn’t want to change the mood by revealing the other truth – it had been hard to strike up a relationship when she was hooked up to a chemo drip and focusing on staying alive.
‘Tell me more about your boys,’ she had prompted, moving the conversation back onto safe territory.
Straight away, he was off, telling her everything about these two great kids and Hope was glad they’d taken a break. His shoulders had lifted, he was smiling again, and she felt completely re-energised too.
‘Can we take a photo?’ she’d asked almost shyly.
‘Yeah! Why haven’t we done that already?’
‘Probably because at least one of us has been in tears at all times today,’ Hope had chirped.
He’d nodded, grinning bashfully. ‘True. Man, it must be jet lag.’
‘Sure, that’s definitely what it is,’ Hope had teased him as he bumped over to her on the lawn. ‘It’s well known that jet lag makes grown men cry.’
That’s when he’d stuck his phone in the air and caught a snap of the two of them, heads together, laughing like someone had just told them the funniest joke ever. He’d airdropped it to Hope’s phone. She’d thought about sending it on to Maisie but changed her mind, deciding that she just wanted to tuck her phone away and enjoy the moment.
They’d strolled back to the hotel when they were ready. ‘Shall we just go and chill upstairs?’ he’d asked, a welcome suggestion. At some point, Hope wanted to know the answer to her question about the end of his relationship with her mother, and going by his reaction earlier, it probably wasn’t going to be something that he wanted to discuss in public. That was fine. They’d get there when he was ready.
