‘No, of course not,’ I simpered. ‘I’ll see you later then.’
Jared kissed me before leaving the room, only to pop his head back round the door. ‘How did the fitting go?’
‘Great. Perfect, in fact. Looks like we’re all ready to get married.’ The spiky bugger was back in my gut. Prod, prod, prod.
Jared grinned at me. ‘It looks like it.’
I was too excited to sit still – even with a slab of chocolate and the A Beginner’s Guide To You box set – so I found myself heading over to my former home to see if Billy would chat to me. With my fiancé and best friends otherwise engaged (so to speak), I was beginning to feel a bit abandoned.
Pushing open the gate, I noticed that the sitting room curtains were closed, which was odd as it was still quite early and light. And wait a minute, wasn’t that Quinn’s car parked out on the street? All became clear when the door was answered by a sweaty, dishevelled Theo.
I adopted what I hoped was an uber-casual tone. ‘Is Quinn here?’ I knew full well what the answer was. Her car was parked right within sniffing distance.
Theo scratched the back of his neck. ‘No. Why?’
‘Because her car is over there.’ I pointed out the car, crushing Theo’s great fat lies. ‘What about Billy? Or Casey?’
‘They’ve gone out.’
‘Out?’
‘For dinner.’
‘On a date?’ Interesting.
Theo gave a shrug. ‘I suppose.’
‘So you’re here with Quinn? Alone? Can I come in?’
Theo closed the door a fraction, blocking me. ‘No. You can’t. We’re busy.’
I bloody well knew it! All that ‘I don’t fancy Theo’ was crap. Quinn did fancy Theo and had fallen for his charms. Plus, she’d lied to me about her plans – twice. Dinner with family? Pah!
I left them to it. Who was I to stand in Quinn’s way if this was truly – inexplicably – what she wanted? I’d warned her plenty of times, but Quinn was a grown woman and capable of making her own decisions. Even if some of those decisions were stupid and I would have to twist Theo’s bollocks off when he hurt her. Which he would.
I returned home and put the kettle on. I’d have a nice cup of tea and a few pieces of chocolate (aka a whole family-sized bar) and wait for Jared to come home. Maybe we could snuggle up on the sofa with that Beginner’s Guide box set.
I was just getting started on the box set when the flat’s buzzer interrupted the moment when Meg is about to reveal her true, albeit drunken, feelings for Tom. It was my favourite episode from season one, and never failed to make me smile. If my fiancé and friends were too busy jogging or dancing or having sex to entertain me, at least I could always rely on good old Meg and Tom.
Pausing the DVD, I answered the door. My cousin trooped into the flat, shoulders hunched, and not at all her usual perky self. When she looked at me, I could see her eyes were pink and swollen.
‘What’s the matter?’ I guided Trina to the sofa and settled her amongst the scatter cushions. If I’d had a blanket handy, I’d have draped it over her. ‘What’s happened?’
Trina gave a sniff and her bottom lip trembled as she spoke. ‘I think my marriage is over.’
Forty-Three
Trina
She felt bad immediately, even before the tears started to cascade down her cheeks, pooling on her trembling chin before she swiped at them with the sleeve of her cardigan. She shouldn’t be burdening Ruth with her marriage woes – again – but where else could she go? Her mum was away with Yuri and she hadn’t seen or heard from her sister since the wedding. And it wasn’t as though she could rock up on Aidan’s doorstep with a suitcase of her possessions. Not now. She trusted Ruth and she’d always made her feel better when she was little and feeling sad and lonely.
‘How can it be over?’ Ruth asked. She hadn’t failed to notice the suitcase, abandoned in the hallway. This wasn’t a silly little flounce after a row. Trina was serious. ‘What’s happened?’
And so Trina regaled the (latest) sorry tale of her marriage. The exclusion from family meals, the separation of their lives, going to see Aidan, and then the kiss.
‘I feel so stupid.’ Trina unravelled a clump of loo roll – Ruth still hadn’t got round to buying actual tissues, and Trina had exhausted her own supply – and gave her nose a hearty blow. ‘Why did I marry Rory?’
She’d asked Rory why he’d married her – but now she had to face the question herself.
‘Because you love him.’ Ruth had no doubt about that. She’d seen the way her cousin had looked at Rory. She adored him.
Trina shook her head. ‘I’m not sure I do, not properly. It was all such a whirlwind, you know. I was feeling a bit bruised after being let down by Aidan, and I’ve always felt like something was missing, that I’m somehow unlovable, so I was grateful that someone like Rory was interested in me.’ Although she now knew the truth about what had happened that night. She’d been to see Aidan and he’d told her everything.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she’d demanded when she learned about the accident. Some idiot had ploughed into Aidan while he was on his phone. Luckily neither had been seriously hurt, but Trina couldn’t bear to think about what could have been.
‘I tried to, but you didn’t have your phone with you. By the time I got through to you, it was too late. You’d met Rory and were completely head over heels. You couldn’t stop praising the wonderful Rory long enough for me to explain, and I guess I didn’t want to look like an idiot. There I was, gutted that I’d let you down, but you weren’t bothered in the slightest.’
But Trina had been. Very much so. She’d sung Rory’s praises loud and clear so that she didn’t look like an idiot. ‘Weren’t you injured, though?’
‘I came away with a few cuts and bruises. Nothing serious.’
‘How did I not notice?’
‘You went away.’ Rory had taken Trina sailing on his father’s yacht for the weekend, and when they returned they’d been inseparable. It must have been two weeks before she’d remembered there were other people in the world besides her new boyfriend.
‘When you didn’t show up, I thought you’d changed your mind.’
‘Not even a little bit. I was crazy about you.’ Aidan had dropped his gaze to his lap. ‘I still am. It kills me that you’re with him and not me.’
‘Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why did you let me marry him?’
Aidan’s head snapped up, and he frowned. ‘Because I want you to be happy, even if it’s with someone else. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.’
‘I’m not happy, Aidan.’
Trina couldn’t remember a time when she’d been less happy. Aidan was in love with her and she was pretty sure she was still in love with him too, but she was married to Rory now. Everything was such a mess.
‘I’m so sorry for coming here,’ Trina said now, unravelling another wad of loo roll and dabbing at her eyes. ‘I’m not a very good advertisement for marriage, am I? But it’s different for you and Jared. You truly love each other.’
‘Is there no way back for you and Rory?’
Trina shook her head and emitted a weary sigh. ‘No. Too much has happened. There’s no trust between us.’
‘Maybe that kiss was a one-off. A silly mistake.’
Ah, the kiss. The final nail in the coffin of Trina and Rory’s marriage.
‘But that’s the thing,’ Trina said. ‘I don’t actually care that much about the kiss. I’m embarrassed more than anything.’
Trina had left Aidan’s place the previous night as confused as ever. She’d returned to the empty annexe and climbed into bed, her mind churning over everything she’d learned that evening. Was her marriage a complete sham? Could it be salvaged? Trina wasn’t sure she had the energy to fight for it any more, but did she want to follow in her mother’s failed-marriage footsteps? She and Rory had been married for just a few short weeks – they deserved a proper chance, didn’t they? But w
hen she thought about Aidan, her heart raced like it had never done for Rory.
Did she stay and fight, or did she listen to her heart?
Trina’s answer had arrived a couple of hours ago, via a text message from her sister-in-law. The photo – accidentally forwarded, according to Carrington – depicted her husband and Ginny at the party Trina hadn’t been invited to. The photo showed them kissing – but who knew what that kiss had led to …
‘Was it an actual affair?’
Trina shrugged. ‘Rory says not. Says it was just a kiss. They were drunk, apparently. But it doesn’t matter.’ Of course it still stung – Rory was her husband and that kiss had destroyed all her hopes for her marriage. But hadn’t they been destroyed anyway?
‘His sister must be a real bitch to send you the photo.’ Ruth couldn’t believe that somebody could be so vindictive. Not even Tori would stoop that low.
‘Carrington’s never liked me,’ Trina said. ‘Maybe I was stepping on her best friend’s toes. Who knows?’
Trina found she didn’t care that much. A kiss or full-on bedroom action – it didn’t matter because she was no longer fully invested in their marriage. They were over, and Trina was quite relieved that the decision had been taken out of her hands.
‘What does this mean for you and Aidan?’ Ruth asked.
Trina really had no idea.
Trina was grateful when Ruth let her stay over at the flat. Gloria would be home in a couple of days, so Ruth insisted Trina stay with her until then.
‘We only have the sofa, I’m afraid,’ Ruth had said, but Trina was eternally grateful.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ she’d asked Ruth and Jared.
‘Absolutely not,’ Jared had assured her. ‘In fact, you can help me with Ruth’s surprise if you’re up for it. I needed another person, but nobody else would volunteer.’
So Trina was kept busy working on Ruth’s surprise, which was a welcome distraction. Aidan had been in touch, but she’d asked for a few days to sort her head out. Rory had not been in touch, although his mother had.
‘It happens, dear,’ Winnie had told her over the phone. ‘Do you think Rory’s father has been faithful to me all these years? I know perfectly well what he gets up to, but I also know how lucky I am to be married to him.’
‘I don’t feel very lucky to be married to Rory.’ Quite the opposite, in fact, Trina thought.
‘Well, you should! Rory provides for you and he’ll make an excellent father.’
‘In what way? By working every hour? Fathers should be there for their children. Husbands should be there for their wives.’ Trina felt a surge of courage as she spoke to her mother-in-law. She was sure that her bravery was due to their conversation taking place over the phone. Had they been face to face, Trina was sure she would have shrivelled before the woman and transformed into a simpering fool.
‘Grow up! You are not in a fairy tale. This is real life, dear.’
‘You’re right. This isn’t a fairy tale and Rory and I won’t be living happily ever after. Not together, at least.’
‘Hamilton-Wraiths do not get divorced, my dear.’
‘But I’m not a Hamilton-Wraith. Not for much longer, anyway.’ Trina had hung up the phone. And it had felt bloody fantastic.
Now Trina was on her way home. Not to the annexe, but to her mother’s house. Her suitcase was in the boot of her car and the rest of her belongings were already ensconced in her old bedroom. Carrington had taken great delight in packing up her stuff and sending it to Gloria’s house. Trina was just grateful she hadn’t had to return to the annexe to do it herself.
‘My darling girl.’ Gloria greeted Trina with a hug and a large measure of gin with a dash of tonic. ‘Welcome home. Let’s put all this mess behind us and move on. It’s the best way.’
Trina lugged her suitcase up the stairs to her old bedroom and sat on the bed. It looked exactly the same as she’d left it as a single woman. The last few weeks may as well have not happened at all.
If only they hadn’t.
Trina looked down at her left hand. Her wedding band and engagement ring still sat on her finger, but she eased them off now. She’d post them back to Rory. She had no need for them now.
There was a gentle knock at the door. ‘Trina, darling? Would you like another G&T?’
Trina shoved the rings in the drawer of her bedside table. ‘Yes, I think I will.’
The door opened and Gloria appeared, a topped-up glass in each hand. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ She passed one of the glasses to Trina and clinked her own against it. ‘To new beginnings, darling.’
Trina managed a smile ‘To new beginnings.’
‘Good girl.’ Gloria took a large sip of her drink, encouraging her daughter to do the same before she took the glasses and placed them on the bedside table. She took Trina’s hands in hers, noticing the absence of the rings but not commenting on them. ‘You know, I felt exactly how you do after my first husband left me. Yes, darling, he left me. I know I don’t tell it that way, but you can keep a secret, can’t you?’
Trina nodded, too shocked to speak.
‘I was a little bit younger than you and I thought we were going to live happily ever after.’
‘Sounds familiar.’
Gloria gave Trina’s hands a squeeze. ‘But do you know what happened next? After I picked myself up? I met your father.’
Trina snorted. ‘We both know that didn’t end well.’ The walls of the house practically still shook from the arguments that had taken place twenty years ago.
‘No, but I ended up with you and Tori, didn’t I? And no matter how miserable your father made me – or how miserable I made him – we still had you two, and that is the best thing either of us has ever done.’ Gloria cupped Trina’s face in her hands. ‘My darling girl, you will pick yourself up and you will find happiness. I promise you. Now.’ Gloria released Trina and handed her a glass from the table. ‘Drink up and then I’ll pour you another one.’
‘No, thank you.’ Trina put the glass down. ‘I don’t need another drink. But I will pick myself up. I’ll sort my life out.’
‘Good girl.’ Gloria picked up both glasses and drained them. Waste not, want not, and all that. ‘Oh, and don’t you even think about giving those rings back, young lady. Pawn them and treat yourself to something pretty. That’s what I always do.’
Forty-Four
Ruth
I’d continued my countdown until the wedding, but now, with the wedding just one day away, it had morphed into ‘this time tomorrow’. Fridays usually limped along frustratingly slowly, but this particular Friday took the biscuit (and not even a good biscuit like a party ring, but a … nope, sorry. There are no bad biscuits). I was constantly clock-checking (seriously, my eyes barely left the bloody thing), adding to my ‘this time tomorrows’:
I’ll be claiming I’m too excited to eat breakfast this time tomorrow (as if!).
I’ll be getting into my fabulous dress this time tomorrow.
I’ll be heading to the church this time tomorrow.
The clock was plodding along to five o’clock – I’ll be at the reception at this time tomorrow – when my small office filled with people from various departments. Jared was there, looking as bewildered as I felt as he was pushed to the front and made to stand by my side.
‘What’s going on?’ Kelvin stuck his head out of his office, propelled into rare action by the commotion.
‘Jared and Ruth are getting married tomorrow.’ Sally from HR appeared to be the spokesperson for the group. ‘So we’ve put together a little contribution to the honeymoon fund.’
Kelvin grunted as Sally presented us with a card signed by all the staff and an envelope that was nice and fat. I didn’t point out that a honeymoon hadn’t been in the budget. We’d keep hold of it until our bank balance allowed such indulgences again.
‘Thank you so much,’ I said while Kelvin grumbled about ‘bloody weddings’ and ‘I’m sick of the damn t
hings’ and ‘cost a bloody fortune’. He retreated into his office, still muttering to himself.
‘We really appreciate this,’ Jared said, putting his arm around me and giving me a squeeze. Sally gave us each a kiss on the cheek and my office filled with the sound of applause. Kelvin was probably grumbling further about the fuss next door, but he couldn’t be heard over the congratulations. The employees, seeing that it was now five o’clock and officially home time, started to filter away.
‘This time tomorrow we’ll be married,’ Jared whispered in my ear and I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my entire face. We’d done it. We had actually – shockingly – planned an entire wedding in six short weeks, and tomorrow we would be husband and wife!
‘Hey, enough of that canoodling. You’re not married yet.’ Erin had remained in my office and we enjoyed an impromptu group hug. ‘Right, I’ll see you tonight, lady. Don’t forget to put your dancing shoes on.’ Erin untangled herself and backed out of the room, blowing us a noisy kiss before she disappeared from view.
‘Are you ready to go?’ Jared asked. Ha! It was one minute past five. Of course I was ready to go! But before I could skip out of the office, Kelvin called me into his. I groaned. What did he want? An ‘urgent’ email sending that could actually wait until Monday? A cup of coffee and plate of biscuits to tide him over until his wife fed him at home?
‘Yes, Kelvin?’ I popped my head around the door, not committing fully by stepping over the threshold.
‘I just wanted to say, um …’ Kelvin cleared his throat and shifted his considerable weight in his seat, the leather creaking beneath his arse cheeks. ‘You know, um, good luck for tomorrow.’ Cough. ‘And, um, congratulations.’
‘Oh.’ I was stunned. I didn’t think I’d ever heard Kelvin say something pleasant to anything other than a Mars bar (it had been beautiful and velvety, apparently. Kelvin had no idea I could hear his sweet nothings through his open door). ‘Thank you.’
A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do Page 25
