I notice his back heaving up and down and I would love to see his face right now. I wonder if he’s crying.
I spot my wife in the crowd, sitting next to Tom at the end of a pew. Unlike many other guests, sat dabbing their eyes out of admiration and wonder, my wife has daggers for the bridesmaids following behind Lily.
Saskia, Marie and Chloe are all bridesmaids, with Marie’s two little daughters acting as flower girls, her son carrying the ring cushion and Lily’s elder sister Lauren holding it up as maid of honour… because as Lily says, “She will always be a maid.”
I turn and catch Lily’s eyes as she arrives up front. She grins wildly and I give her my approval with a wink. Then Theo turns to face the front and I see he’s smiling but also has tears in his eyes. They grip each other’s hands and walk forward to make the biggest commitment of their lives… and they couldn’t look happier.
I remember feeling exactly as they do.
Part of me wishes I still did.
After the ceremony, which was very beautiful and serene, peaceful and focused on their solemn vows, everyone leaves the cool of the church for the sunny weather outside, perfect for photographs. I get thrown towards the happy couple a few times for the standard shots, then I’m allowed to spectate alongside everyone else as two people madly in love don’t hold back – showing themselves off to the world.
Gustav is here today, albeit he’s quietly hanging back, not taking anything away from their day. He must feel awkward but also a sense of duty to be here, just to make Theo feel some semblance of togetherness in the absence of Allegra.
Noticeably absent is Paul, although he sent me a letter to give to Lily if I felt it was the right thing to do. I read it, of course, and decided I would see how I felt. Looking at them as they are right now, I don’t think she needs reminding of a time when she wasn’t this happy. She deserves to be as happy as she is today for the rest of her life and doesn’t need the memory of Paul dragging her back down.
While I’ve got a moment to relax – all the non-wedding-party guests made to wait around at the other side of the church while we do the important photos this side – I take out the letter and read it again.
Dear Lily,
What do I say? How do I say it? Should I say it? I don’t know.
I wish you only happiness with Theo. He’s a really great guy, actually. I somehow never imagined you two would end up together. I put a block on it maybe… or he was so good at hiding his feelings.
Then one day in a shopping centre, I saw the truth spitting from his mouth and searing from his eyes. I knew it that day and I’ve known it ever since. The way he loves you… I think that’s how you’ve always wanted and needed to be loved. I’m happy for you.
I wish things had been different. Truly. We almost made it… so many times. And the time we came closest… I just knew he was waiting in the wings… my secrets: weapons in his arsenal if he ever decided to attack. And it’s true what they say… people always get found out. Like me. I was rubbish at hiding my sins and though I’ve tried to tackle the sins part, I’m still working on that and hoping, one day, to get my shit together.
I love you, forever and always.
But you picked the better guy, and I don’t blame you.
Paul x
I think Paul wrote this hoping it would soothe her conscience or his, maybe both. Perhaps this is his way of giving them his blessing… or admitting defeat, in the only way he knows how… with a hint of bitterness and false self-deprecation. Or else it’s one more attempt to prove that Theo split them up – because really, it’s his fault – he got in the way.
I tear up the pages into little squares, and when everyone’s throwing the confetti, I toss it into the wind like it’s nothing more than a celebration. Sorry, mate, but you left the decision to me.
And if Paul was here and could see that smile on her face, he wouldn’t want to wipe that off either. Paul has never seen them together like I have. Their quiet friendship… their honesty, their genuine rapport. They developed it in private, without fanfare, without pomp… and beneath all this ceremony today, there are two friends who love one another enormously and share everything.
I envy that a great deal. I really do.
At the wedding breakfast, which is taking place in the fancy function suite of one of our city’s biggest hotels, I can only describe my wife’s expression as incandescent. I’m sat at the top table between Lily’s mother and sister, while my wife is relegated to the singles table along with Tom, some colleagues of Lily’s and a few stragglers I haven’t seen in years. I’ve barely spoken to Susan all day owing to general duties needing to be performed and the tight schedule we’re working to so that Lily and Theo can get away by ten o’clock and head to a mystery location for their wedding night.
When it’s my turn to make a speech, I steel myself with a quick shot of whisky and stand up to a huge round of applause. I feel the weight of this on my shoulders and it’s heavy. Very heavy. They’re expecting a lot. After all, this is the first proper best man speech any of us have ever given. My best man was James from work… and that was only because Susan made me. I’d wanted Paul but she despised him, and because I couldn’t have him and couldn’t choose between Tom or Theo, she suggested I pick James to make it easy – after all, she argued, James had sort of helped get us together being that he was my manager and had kept me in a job at Bloom’s.
“I’ve not known Theo for quite as long as I’ve known Lily, so let’s start with Lily,” I begin, as everyone settles back into their chairs.
I’m holding the mike – but no notes.
I’ve never done notes.
Who knows what’ll come out of my mouth?
Everyone whistles, expecting me to go all-out roasting Lily. She gives me a warning look as the noise dies down.
“Lily and I first spoke when we were just five and six,” I begin, “and I have no photographic evidence of this, by the way, so don’t get your hopes up… but I seem to remember Lily commenting on my Bananaman jumper with some dry witticism and my poor, wounded heart shuffling off, her comment about bananas being sludgy and gooey making for a bad superhero or something. I think I knew that day, this wasn’t any ordinary girl.”
Everyone responds with a few “awws” and “ahhs”, recognising it’s going to be a bit of a sentimental one today.
“You won’t be surprised to hear we all had a crush on Lily at one time or another. My lovesick episode was late in our teens when she wore a Bananaman jumper.”
Everyone laughs, some nervously, wondering where I’m going.
“I’m joking, I’m joking… this isn’t going to get weird.” I stare around the room in a perverse way and a couple of people burst out laughing. “The truth is, I think I’m the only one who never had a crush on Lily Ann Brooks. Not only because she so wounded me when we were tiny, but also because I was the first to witness the rapport between Lily and Theo when we worked on the school newspaper together. The only person to ever understand Theo’s random outbursts of song, soliloquy, monologue, poetry or any other random line from a film, book or TV show was Lily. She brought her own dynamic intellect to the table and I can see why they fell in love years later… once they finally got over that bit of awkwardness that comes with going from friends to lovers… though I’m happy to say, they’re definitely over that.” I motion at the bump and make a gesture in front of me. Everyone wails. God, I’m either dead funny or these people are totally wasted. “Seriously, though. I think she wore hot pants one summer and for a moment, I did crush on her… yeah.”
I stare into the distance as if remembering that, getting a chuckle out of Theo finally, the nervous groom.
“Onto Theo.” I laugh loudly and a couple of people jeer. “Theo, my dear boy. My fellow. My thespian. My thesp. My luvvie. My weirdo. My guy, my mate, my walking thesaurus, my library, my archive… my chum. You were a bit of an outcast when you first started sixth form college with us. I think you felt like you nee
ded to fit in but you didn’t quite know where you slotted. Most of us had already known one another a decade or more before you came along. And that’s how I know how happy you make her. I know, because I saw something light up in her eyes for the first time when you came along, and that same light I’ve seen today, too. Undiminished and now of an even richer hue… something many of us can only aspire to but which you have. I know that every minute she spends in a room with you is a minute she spends mostly in awe but also slightly weirded out.” I bring the house down and Lily cries herself with laughter. “Seriously, though. I mean this… watching you two… knowing you two… is one of the greatest joys of my life. So, you can’t bloody fuck it up, okay? My happiness depends on it!” A few people jeer quietly. “All jokes aside, when you know, you just know. And I knew, all the way back then, what you only figured out last year. So, in this spirit, I’ll take palm readings or do psychic predictions after I’m done here. Come find me later.” Lily shakes her head while Theo puts his head in his hands. I raise my glass and toast, “To the most beautiful people I know. Lily and Theo.”
“Lily and Theo,” everyone agrees, the entire room erupting into deafening applause.
I creep over and kiss Lily, who whispers, “Go and sort your fucking wife out. Have you seen the look on her face?”
I dare not look. “What’s she doing?”
“Giving evils to everyone. Even me.”
“I am so sorry, kitten.”
Her eyes widen and she growls. “How did you know about that name?”
“Oh, blimey, Lily. He murmurs it in his sleep. Last night all I could hear was him whispering, ‘Kitten, kitten… don’t leave me at the altar, kitten.’”
Lily slaps my arm and mouths, “Love you, you knacker.”
“Love you, too.”
Theo grabs her face and kisses her mouth. Then the toastmaster instructs everyone to make themselves at home – the bar is open, the night is young.
After looking for her everywhere, I eventually find her in the hotel room upstairs. Susan is sitting by the window, watching something outside. I walk up behind her and see she’s staring out across the courtyard, where the bride and groom are all alone beneath the moonlight, dancing to no music and with no audience – all alone – just as they wanted.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, even though you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.
“Where do I start?” she says, the hurt in her voice clear.
“This isn’t your day, Susie. It’s theirs. They can do what they want. Have who they want here. It’s up to them. And they don’t deserve you, being like this. You ought to reel your neck in and get back down there, have fun and get over it.”
She stands up suddenly and faces me. “Get over what, hmm? The fact that since the funeral, Lily’s basically been absent, she doesn’t care about me anymore.”
I squint, wondering if this is still the same woman I married, or am I seeing things wrong? How can she be so needy and childish?
“Lily is pregnant and lives in another city. Her and Theo have had a wedding to plan, his mother’s house to clear out and sell. He’s rehearsing for a new play and they have a whole lot of stuff going on. It has nothing to do with you.”
Susan shakes her head and covers her mouth, muting whatever it is she would like to say.
“The hell it doesn’t,” she growls, “she doesn’t even reply to my texts anymore. Sometimes it takes her days.”
“Yeah? She probably has baby brain, I’m betting. Theo says she sleeps constantly.”
“And she picked all of them as her bridesmaids and I didn’t get a look in,” she spits, her face changing completely, like a demon just bubbled beneath her skin and showed itself, finally.
“Like I said, it’s her day.”
“Yeah, but you got to be a big part of today, I was just… left in the cold.” She walks around, arms flailing. “And she isn’t even very good friends with those three anymore. It’s just not fair, Adam. It’s really not. And I… I was the one who said she should have a proper wedding. This day wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for me.”
I could argue they decided to have a big wedding only because of Allegra’s passing and Theo feeling the need to celebrate what he has left – but that would only rub my wife up the wrong way. Reason, it seems, doesn’t matter to my wife.
“You can’t attend someone’s wedding and give them evils all day for not running it how you want it to be run, Susan. That’s not how it works.”
“Oh, shut up,” she groans, “and you, you … you haven’t even dared approach Chloe today, have you? Hmm? Why’s that?”
“I’ve barely had time to breathe. It’s been a whirlwind. She’s looked busy every time I’ve spotted her in the crowd. People to catch up with and all that.”
“It’s just always the same,” she groans, “always. Your friends don’t let anyone in. They’re there with their cliques and their little factions and there’s just no way in. It just can’t happen. I’m not good enough.”
It’s all in her head, but the moment I say that, she will flip out.
Plus, people who have been friends for as long as we all have do tend to be able to pick up where we left off even if it’s been years – another reason why I’ve kept my distance from Chloe, but not that I’d ever admit it to my wife.
“You don’t have to share my friends, you can have your own. What about Anabel? She’s your buddy, right? Why haven’t you two spoken in a while?”
Susan rolls her shoulders and winds her neck back finally. “She’s busy. All the time. Busy. People are always too busy for me.”
“Well, you’ve got me, right?”
She steps closer and looks up into my eyes, holding my cheek. “Have I?”
We haven’t had sex in a while. It’s pretty obvious why given the things that have gone on between us recently.
After her father refused us the money for IVF, I went to see him off my own back without telling her. We were in his office at the mansion and he lit up a cigar, smiling as if he knew I’d come for the same thing she had. I asked, “So, you’re in trouble, then?”
He looked at me, puzzled. His bald head glimmered against the harsh lights and he remained cool and collected while I started to sweat.
“What are you talking about, Adam?” he asked, his thick accent labouring over the consonants.
“She said you won’t give her money for IVF.”
I breathed deeply and waited for him to say something that was easily believed, but he said, “I already gave her £20,000 last year. I’m not handing over any more. I’ve told her maybe it’s time for you guys to adopt.”
I shut my eyes and he leaned closer, “What’s wrong, Adam?”
“You gave her money?” My heart boomed scattily and my prefrontal cortex felt so suffocated, I kept blinking.
“She and I agreed. I’d give her enough for three cycles. After that, she could find the money herself or admit defeat. I’m sorry Adam, but I have to draw a line somewhere.”
I remember looking down at the carpeted floor like it was a bowl of soup or something, the liquid swirling, threatening to swallow me down into it or become animated and attack me.
“Boris, she sold her car. She sold clothes and bags and all sorts. She and I agreed to pay for it all ourselves.”
He shook his head wildly. “No, Adam. No. As you are well aware, my daughter can be as you guys say, very economical with the truth. I agreed to pay her this money into a different account, one you two don’t share. She told me it was because she was keeping it all separate so you didn’t accidentally spend it on the house or something.”
“So, where’s her car?” I laughed.
“I’m sorry, Adam. I don’t know. All I know is that I spoilt her, I did. I know that. I ruined her. I admit it, there, it’s out. Of course, it’s my fault. She doesn’t think anything of these lies. I should’ve been harder on her but I wasn’t.”
Boris ushered me out of his house after
that, promising money if she needed psychiatric treatment again – like that’s all he needed to do – throw money at it.
With this new knowledge, I decided to bide my time. I found out from Dr Gillan that Susan had undergone three rounds of IVF without me knowing about the third. She’d used the last portion of money to do that in secret. Dr Gillan warned over the phone that our store of fertilised eggs was depleted and that to embark on any more treatment now carried with it a high chance of failure, meaning she wouldn’t recommend we progress further. She’d told Susan all this and had been thankful that Susan seemed accepting. But it would have been nice to know. Why didn’t my own wife tell me there wasn’t a chance to try again? Maybe she didn’t want me to know that we were done… maybe she couldn’t admit it.
I followed Susan one day as she went to work, wondering if my wife was even the person she said she was. I was shocked when she got into her car, parked a few streets away, and drove herself to work in a vehicle she had apparently sold.
I went home fuming and raided her private drawer in the dressing table. There was a key to a storage unit hidden at the back and the fob had the name and address of the place written on it in bold writing. She hadn’t had this long.
At the storage unit, I found shelves full of her things, all wrapped carefully and meticulously in tissue paper and cellophane and clear plastic bags. It was all the things she’d allegedly sold – plus a few more things she hadn’t even worn or used yet.
Susan has always taken care of the finances and so I rarely look at the accounts, but when I thought to check back, I discovered she’d moved money over from her PayPal account in massive chunks. This was obviously the cash she got from her father and was trying to make it look like it came from the sale of her stuff. I looked harder at the accounts and was surprised to see she’d still been buying things from her favourite shops. Plus, her subscriptions to the gym and spa were ongoing. She must have been fitting that in during the evenings when she’d allegedly told me, “I’m working late.”
Bad Wife Page 14
