Reunited at the Altar

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Reunited at the Altar Page 7

by Kate Hardy


  So obviously Abby hadn’t said a word to his twin about the kisses they’d exchanged. Or maybe they’d put her in as much of a spin as they’d done to him, and that was why she’d used the excuse of chief bridesmaid’s duties to avoid him for the last couple of days. Not wanting to make today difficult, he’d backed off. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘We’re fine.’ Even though they weren’t, they would be for today. He’d make sure of that. Ruby’s wedding wasn’t going to be collateral damage from any problems between himself and Abby.

  ‘I wish Dad was here,’ Ruby said, a slight crack in her voice.

  ‘Me, too.’ He took her hand. ‘But I’m pretty sure he’s here in spirit. And he’d really love the woman you’ve become.’ He looked at her. ‘Don’t cry. Mum and Abby will kill me if your make-up’s even the slightest bit smudged.’

  Ruby blinked hard. ‘I won’t cry.’

  ‘Be happy, Rubes,’ he said. And he wanted her to be as happy as he and Abby had been at the start of their own married life. Except he wanted that happiness to last for his sister for ever. ‘Colin’s a good man and I like him very much. But I know what Dad would be saying to you right now, and because he can’t say it then it’s my job to say it for him. I love you, and if you’ve got even the slightest, tiniest doubt about marrying Colin then you don’t have to walk down that aisle today. I’ll sort everything out for you so you won’t have to worry. Nothing matters except that you’re happy.’

  ‘I don’t have any doubts. I want to get married to Colin.’ Ruby looked straight at him. ‘Did you have any doubts when you married Abby?’

  The question felt like a sucker-punch to his gut. He’d never told anyone why he’d rushed Abby off to Gretna Green—not even Abby herself. ‘No. But don’t repeat my mistakes, OK?’

  His sister regarded him narrowly. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be OK with all this?’

  ‘It’s your wedding day. Of course I’m sure,’ he said. ‘You’re going to have a lovely wedding and a lovely life with a man who adores you.’

  She squeezed his hand. ‘Love you, Brad. And I wish...’

  ‘Yeah. Me, too.’ He wished a lot of things. That his dad were still there. That he hadn’t shut Abby out. That he could find some compromise to suit them both.

  He couldn’t change the past. But could he change their future?

  At the church, he helped Ruby out of the car. Abigail straightened Ruby’s veil and made sure she was ready for the first batch of photographs.

  And then it was time to walk down the aisle.

  This service would be a much happier occasion than the last one he’d attended here.

  To the sound of Pachelbel’s Canon—one of their father’s favourite pieces of music, and he knew that was why Ruby had chosen it—he walked his twin down the aisle and gave her away to Colin in the middle of the ceremony. But when he took his place in the pew for the rest of the service, he wasn’t looking at the bride and groom; he only had eyes for the chief bridesmaid. She looked wistful. Was it just the way women always looked at weddings—or was she thinking of their own wedding, right now, the way that he was? Remembering all the tiny details, all the little things that had made that day so special?

  After Ruby and Colin signed the register and walked back down the aisle, there was a blur of photographs.

  Brad chose that moment to sneak away to visit Jim’s grave. ‘I hope I did you proud today, Dad,’ he said softly. ‘Ruby looks so happy. I wish you were here with us, but I’ll raise a glass to you later.’

  Once the photographer was happy she’d got the shots she wanted, everyone headed to the big gorgeous hotel on the edge of town, which had once been the local mansion. The reception was being held in the former ballroom; the places were all immaculately set with silver and fine china and crystal glasses, and there were fresh flowers on every table.

  Ruby’s table arrangements were a little unconventional, though Brad was relieved he wasn’t sitting near Abby—or anywhere near where he could see her and be distracted. Right now, he was focusing on making his sister’s day as perfect as it could be, and he knew that Abby was doing the same. Having to face each other would complicate things.

  His was the first speech after the meal, in the place of the bride’s father. ‘I’d like to thank everyone for coming and to welcome you to Ruby and Colin’s wedding,’ he said. ‘And I’d also like to make a toast to our dad, who I’m sure is with us in spirit. I have to admit, I’m finding his shoes pretty hard to fill and I’m not going to do the kind of witty speech that he would’ve done—I’m going to keep it short and simple. But what I do know is that Dad would’ve been so proud of the wonderful woman my sister has become, just as I am. I’d like to welcome Colin to our family and it’s good to have a new brother. In fact, it’s rather nice to have another Y chromosome around to even things up a little in our family.’

  Everyone duly laughed, and he relaxed. ‘I give you the bride and groom, Ruby and Colin.’

  ‘Ruby and Colin,’ everyone echoed.

  Colin made a speech about how much he loved his new wife that had a lump in everyone’s throat; and then Richard, his brother, lightened things up again by telling the traditional best man’s funny stories about the groom.

  Then Ruby stood up. ‘I’d like to say a big thank you to everyone for coming,’ she said. ‘And to my twin, Brad, for standing in for Dad today—and Dad would’ve been just as proud of our brilliant scientist, too. To Colin, for making me happier than I’ve ever known. To Mum, for being the best support ever. To Izzy, for being the greatest flower girl. And especially to Abby, because I could never have organised this without my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers and I love her like a sister. Please raise your glasses to my chief bridesmaid and ice cream maker extraordinaire, the woman behind the ice creams you’ll all be eating in the garden this afternoon, Abigail Scott.’

  Guilt flickered through Brad. Abby had been Ruby’s sister—well, sister-in-law—until he’d messed everything up. But he was glad their friendship hadn’t become collateral damage in the divorce.

  Somehow he and Abby were both too busy with wedding details to speak to each other for the rest of the afternoon; she was supporting her staff at the old-fashioned ice cream cart and checking if there was anything they needed, and he was making sure that everyone had a drink.

  Finally, it was time for the evening reception and the DJ announced the first dance; Ruby and Colin walked onto the dance floor together to George Michael’s cover of ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’ and began a slow, sweet waltz.

  The words of the song were so perfect; and they made Brad think of Abby. Unable to help himself, he glanced over the other side of the ballroom at her—to see that she was looking right back at him.

  Was she thinking the same that he was?

  Polite and civil, he reminded himself. That was the order of the day. Polite and civil. He could absolutely not be a troglodyte and scoop up the chief bridesmaid, haul her over his shoulder and carry her off to his lair. Particularly as his cottage was a couple of miles down the road. And particularly as lots of their family and friends were there to witness everything and he was very aware of the speculative glances.

  Plus it was time for the traditional father-daughter dance. He couldn’t help smiling as the music Ruby had chosen came on: ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’. It was the song she and Abby claimed would get anyone up on a wedding dance floor. Colin was dancing with his mother, Frances. Then they swapped round and Colin danced with his new mother-in-law, Rosie, while Ruby danced with Jeremy, Colin’s dad; and Richard, Colin’s brother, was dancing with Abby.

  ‘Don’t you dare try to sneak off this dance floor,’ Ruby warned Brad as she passed him.

  ‘As if I would,’ Brad fibbed. But he was dreading the moment when he knew he was supposed to dance with Abby. How could he keep things polite and civil, when his emotions were raging inside him? That sense of loss and regret, knowing it was all his own fault and w
ishing things were different, wishing he had the right to hold her close and remember their own wedding day and kiss her under the stars...

  The rest of the guests joined in and the DJ kept things upbeat for a while, getting all the generations doing their particular versions of dances to wedding classics.

  ‘I guess the chief bridesmaid and the bride’s brother ought to dance,’ Abby said, coming to stand next to him. ‘Before the bride starts fretting that they’re having a fight.’

  Polite and civil, he reminded himself. They could do this. ‘Sure,’ he said lightly.

  He was expecting another upbeat song, one he could cope with—but, to his shock, the DJ chose that precise moment to dim the lights and slow things down with an old, old slow song.

  They could hardly back out of it now, not without making a scene and making everyone feel awkward.

  But dancing close to her like this...

  Especially to this song. Art Garfunkel’s ‘I Only Have Eyes for You’—it was horribly appropriate. Because right now, there was nobody else in the room for him. Was it the same for her?

  Maybe it was because, when the song ended and he forced himself to break the dance hold and take a step backwards from her, she looked as dazed as he felt.

  Thankfully Stuart, her father, stepped in to dance with her; and Rosie came to dance with Brad.

  ‘That was a lovely speech you made, darling,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a lovely wedding, Mum,’ he said, smiling at her.

  ‘It is.’ Rosie looked slightly anxious. ‘Do you mind about George being at the wedding?’

  ‘George?’

  She looked pained. ‘I told you about George earlier in the week.’

  Of course. Her new partner. The one Brad hadn’t met because George’s elderly and frail mother had been taken ill last weekend, and George had gone to be with her. He’d come back today for the wedding, and Brad had shaken hands with him this afternoon and made polite and anodyne conversation.

  How could he have forgotten? The emotion of the wedding—and of dancing with Abby—must’ve pushed it all out of his head.

  But he really appreciated the fact George hadn’t tried to take Jim’s place on the day. He’d been diffident and decent and kept in the background, near enough to support Rosie but without pushing himself forward. He was a good man. And, most importantly, Brad liked the way that George looked at his mother.

  ‘Mum, I want you to be happy,’ Brad said.

  ‘I know how badly you took your dad’s death. I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the idea of me seeing someone else. I’ve wanted to tell you about George for the last year,’ Rosie said. ‘I should’ve told you before this week.’

  Except he’d made himself unavailable. Been utterly selfish. Maybe Abby was right about that hair shirt. ‘I wish you had told me about him before,’ he said. ‘It would’ve been nice to meet him sooner and get to know him properly.’ And he meant it.

  ‘So you really don’t mind that I’m dating someone?’

  ‘Mum, you’re not exactly wizened and ancient. You can’t be on your own for the rest of your life,’ he said. ‘Dad wouldn’t have wanted that for you either. He loved you enough to want you to be happy, not being a—a—’ He struggled to find the right words. ‘A Miss Havisham.’

  ‘Wrong character, darling. Miss Havisham was a jilted bride, not a widow,’ Rosie pointed out with a smile.

  ‘I’m a scientist, not an English Lit graduate,’ he reminded her, smiling back. ‘You know what I mean, Mum. Isolating yourself and being miserable and living in the past. That’s not what any of us wants for you, and Dad wouldn’t have wanted that either. George seems a nice guy, Ruby likes him, and if he treats you the way you deserve then that’s good enough for me.’

  She hugged him. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s Ruby’s special day,’ he said. ‘I want her to be happy—and I want you to be happy, too.’

  ‘I am, but I worry about you. So does Ruby.’ Rosie looked at him. ‘I saw you dancing with Abby earlier.’

  ‘We’re both adults. We can be civil to each other,’ he said mildly. Even though ‘civil’ didn’t even begin to cover the complexity of his feelings towards her.

  ‘She’s still part of our family,’ Rosie said.

  ‘She’s Ruby’s best friend. Of course she’s part of the family.’ Even though she wasn’t still married to him.

  ‘She’s not just Ruby’s best friend. I still think of Abby as a daughter and I love her dearly. I just wish...’ Rosie broke off and sighed.

  ‘I know, Mum.’ He hugged her. ‘But you can’t change the past. Now, go and dance with George, and let me get you both a glass of champagne first.’

  Abby was dancing with someone he didn’t know, someone who was clearly attracted to her by the way he was holding her. Jealousy flickered through him. And how bad was it that, when she didn’t accept a second dance, he was pleased about it?

  He ought to let her move on. Find someone else. Hadn’t that been the whole reason he’d walked away from their marriage, to give her a chance to find happiness?

  The problem was, his twin’s wedding had brought back so many memories of his own.

  Of dancing with Abby in their room on their wedding night, with music playing on his phone.

  Of making love with her...

  He managed to keep his distance for a full hour and a half.

  But then another slow song came on. ‘Moon River.’ The song he’d always associated with Abby’s favourite Audrey Hepburn movie and it made him itch to hold her. Before he knew what he was doing, he was right by her side.

  ‘Might I have this dance, Ms Scott?’

  ‘Sure.’ She gave him a polite, civil smile.

  But the dance wasn’t polite and civil at all. They moved closer and closer together until their feet were barely moving and they were just swaying together; her heels were high enough that all he had to do was dip his head slightly and he could press his cheek to hers.

  And how good it felt to be cheek to cheek with her. Holding her close. Feeling the warmth of her skin against his, the regular thud of her heartbeat.

  But this time he was all too aware of the people around him. Right now, he wanted to be alone with her. Find out what was going on in her head.

  ‘Do you want to go and get some fresh air?’ he whispered in her ear.

  ‘Good idea,’ she whispered back.

  He broke the dance hold and just about stopped himself taking her hand, but they walked out together into the garden. There were fairy lights strung all round the garden through the trees and shrubs, creating a soft warm glow in the twilight. The romance of the garden was intensified even more by the roses, where all the blooms were out and it felt as if they were breathing nothing but the sweet scent of them.

  They’d been here before. A different function and a different garden, but it felt the same. The same as the night they’d first got together at their school prom.

  He could hear the music from the ballroom, another slow song.

  ‘Dance with me here?’ he asked.

  And it was just as if the years had melted away, as they held each other in the light of the moon and the fairy lights. Dancing cheek to cheek.

  Except this time he moved so he could kiss the corner of her mouth.

  And she responded by twisting slightly to brush her lips properly against his.

  And then they were really kissing, holding onto each other as if to save each other from drowning in the sudden sea of emotion that threatened to swamp them both.

  When he broke the kiss, he was shaking and her pupils were enormous.

  He stroked her cheek. ‘This reminds me of prom. The day when I really noticed you for the first time.’

  ‘So before then I was just your sister’s annoying friend?’

  He smiled. ‘No. I always liked you. But that time in the garden when I helped you and Ruby revise your Shakespeare—I felt something different, then. I knew I shouldn’t get inv
olved with you because you were my sister’s best friend, and that made you off limits.’

  ‘But you let her fix us up on a date for prom, a few weeks later,’ she pointed out.

  ‘I did it as a favour to Ruby. She was worried that you’d be a wallflower.’

  ‘She told me she was worried that you wouldn’t have a date because you were the biggest nerd in the world,’ she countered.

  ‘She was right. I was. I probably still am,’ he said. He laughed, and stole a kiss. ‘Abby. Today. We’re supposed to be polite and civil to each other.’

  ‘So why are we alone in the garden together? Why did you kiss me?’

  ‘And why did you kiss me back?’ he asked.

  ‘I...’ She shook her head, as if unable to find the words.

  ‘Maybe it’s just the emotion of the wedding.’ He knew that he was lying. He was here because he wanted to be here. He’d kissed Abby because he’d wanted to kiss her. Because he couldn’t help himself.

  ‘It’s a good wedding.’

  He nodded. ‘And it’s made me realise how selfish we were, eloping the way we did.’

  ‘We were so young,’ she said. ‘Just eighteen.’

  ‘And we didn’t think of anything or anyone else,’ he said. ‘Just Gretna Green.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘We deprived everyone of a good party.’

  ‘But I never, ever regretted marrying you,’ he said.

  She looked straight at him. ‘So why did you divorce me?’

  The big question. And he owed her honesty. ‘Because I thought I was doing the right thing.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Are you trying to tell me there was a shiny suit of armour on top of that hair shirt of yours, and you were riding a white horse at the time?’

  ‘Abby, I was a mess. I felt I was dragging you down.’

  ‘That’s the point of wedding vows, for better or worse. We should’ve stuck it out,’ she said.

  She could say that now? ‘You were the one who left me,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I wasn’t deserting you when you needed me.’

  ‘It felt like it, though.’

 

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