Romantic Comedy Box Set (Helen Grey Series Books 1 & 2)

by Hodge, Sibel

  My chest heaved up and down as my breathing slowed enough for me to speak. Maybe the marathon running wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  I sank down on the steps as she returned; glass of cloudy, tepid liquid in hand. She held it out to me, and I grabbed it, downing it in one quick gulp. ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Whatever has happened?’

  ‘Felicity, I have to warn you about Frederick.’

  ‘What about Frederick?’ Her glasses slid down her nose.

  I yanked her hand, dragging her down onto the step next to me. One final exhalation and I was ready to spit it out. ‘He’s the crazy Vincent Price Sound-a-like. He’s the whacko who’s been phoning me up demanding money from me. He’s a gangster. You have to be careful.’ My shoulders heaved up and down.

  ‘Oh, that.’ She let go of my grasp and pushed her glasses further up her nose.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I know about that.’

  What was she talking about? How could sweet, Bible loving Felicity know about it?

  ‘What do you mean, you already know? Aren’t you scared? He could chop you up; steal all your money; rape and pillage you!’ I reached out for her hand again. Was she feeling alright?

  She patted the back of my hand. ‘He used to collect debt money for the Bikers, but since he met me, he’s discovered the Bible and turned over a new leaf. He’s repented for the wrong path he chose.’

  ‘What?’ My pupils dilated.

  She paused. ‘He’s found God.’ She let out a soft, approving sigh.

  ‘Huh?’ I couldn’t believe it. ‘But he said he was going to send the Meat Packer round to chop me up. How do you know he’s changed? He must’ve done some really crazy and…not very nice things to people.’ The knot in my stomach started to unfold. Could this be true? Had Felicity tamed the whacko?

  ‘He just needed some guidance to take the right path.’ She gazed down at her shoes. ‘He’s found enlightenment and the path to goodness.’

  I stepped back, frowning. ‘Really?’

  She nodded. ‘He’s admitted it to the Lord. If he’s not telling the truth, there’ll be hell to pay.’ She blinked at me. ‘The Mighty One will strike Frederick down and gouge his eyes out.’

  I didn’t really want to be around if there was going to be any gouging or striking. ‘So, you know all about it, and you’re not in any danger?’

  ‘Yes.’ A smile reached her eyes, lighting up her whole face.

  I peered at her. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Absolutely, he’s a changed man. We’ve been having constant Bible study sessions since I met him. He’s become a Born Again Christian.’

  ‘You’re positive?’

  ‘Yes. Now don’t worry about us. You get off to the Priory now, and we’ll see you there later and you can ask him yourself.’

  I scratched my head. ‘Well…if you’re sure…’ I gave her a shaky smile.

  ‘I am. Off you go. Everything’s all going to turn out for the best.’ She picked up a Bible resting on a small table in the porch and pressed it to her stomach. If I didn’t know better, I could have sworn a halo of light shone above her head for a second before disappearing. If anyone could tame the psycho Frederick, I was sure it was Felicity.

  ‘Er…OK. I’ll see you there, then.’ I shuffled down the path, thinking that was the most surreal conversation I’d ever had in my life.

  Chapter 29

  Ayshe, Leila and Deniz and I managed to get to The Priory without any further mishaps. The wedding car arrived on time, and as they rolled up in the white Bentley most of the guests were already inside the cosy room which was reserved for ceremonies. A few people loitered outside to get a shot of Ayshe as she stepped out into the brilliant sunshine. Deniz – quite merry by this time – swaggered around on unsteady feet.

  Ayshe rushed up to me, her eyes huge. ‘What happened? Who is Frederick?’

  I filled her in on the crazy details.

  ‘So she’s really OK and not in any danger?’

  ‘No.’ I shrugged. ‘He’s discovered God and become a new person apparently.’

  ‘You look as gorgeous as the baklava my Mother used to make,’ Deniz said to his daughter, changing the subject. ‘Let’s get these photos taken. The quicker we have the ceremony, the quicker we can start the celebrations.’

  I positioned Leila, Ayshe and Deniz against the backdrop of the wedding car to take some photos before we went inside.

  The Priory was an olde worlde building with stone floors and a red-brick interior. Winter jasmine covered the archway entrance, and we ducked under the trailing flowers and stepped inside. In the entrance hall, light was streaming through the sash windows giving a slightly ethereal ambience. I could see the door to the ceremony room was open and Kalem waited outside it to direct guests and give out the buttonhole flowers. He looked drop-dead-gorgeous.

  The wedding coordinator rushed up to us, in a real fluster. ‘I’m sorry, but the registrar has contacted us to say she is ill and has sent a replacement, but he hasn’t turned up yet.’

  ‘What else is going to go wrong today?’ Ayshe muttered under her breath.

  ‘Ah, this must be him now.’ The coordinator went outside to meet a midget of a man with very greasy hair which he wore in a horrendous slapover style. It looked as if he had wound one thick strand of hair over his obviously-bald head about a hundred times, but you could still see a giant, bare patch in the middle.

  He came forward and introduced himself nervously. ‘Hello… I’m Peter.’ He uttered the words so quietly we almost couldn’t hear him and then gave us all a sweaty handshake.

  ‘Pardon?’ Deniz shouted in his ear.

  He jumped. ‘My name is Peter,’ he replied, a little louder. As his head moved, his slapover developed a mind of its own and fell into his eyes. He patted it back into place again and started sweating. ‘I apologize in advance, but I’m quite new to this. Are all your guests here?’

  Kalem stepped forward and grinned at all of us. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Right, I will just go in and sort myself out. When the music starts, we will begin. OK?’ Mr. Slapover looked round at all of us for confirmation.

  ‘What? You need to speak up a bit?’ Deniz frowned, poking his finger in his ear to clear it.

  Ayshe shot her dad a warning look as she strained to listen to Mr. Slapover.

  ‘What?’ Deniz rummaged around in his other ear. ‘I can’t hear him.’

  The registrar and Kalem disappeared. I followed after them so that I could get a bird’s eye view to capture the event during the service.

  My eyes danced around the room, taking in the surroundings. The room was packed full of Atila and Ayshe’s relatives. Atila looked very calm as he chatted with them at the front of the aisle. Kalem kept catching my gaze, looking at me with an expression that I just couldn’t work out.

  If Charlie hadn’t stood up and waved at me, I would have almost missed him. He was very inconspicuous with his candyfloss hair and shrieking, pink, satin suit with a clashing ruffled red shirt. Next to him sat Paul-the-Well-Endowed. Felicity gazed adoringly at Frederick, who was virtually unrecognizable wearing a white suit and a badge pinned to the lapel with the words, I Love God on it, neatly trimmed hair and not a piercing in sight. Angie was thrusting her boobs in the face of an elderly gent who sat next to her, hyperventilating and trying hard not to have a stroke.

  When the music began, the faint murmur of conversation drew to a close and everyone looked behind them, waiting expectantly for the bride.

  Ayshe glided into the room on her dad’s arm. She looked beautiful in an understated cream, floor-length dress, cut on the bias so it accentuated her slim figure. A subtle bejewelled tiara rested on top of her ebony locks. Atila looked close to tears as Deniz positioned her next to him in front of the registrar.

  ‘Welcome, everybody, to the marriage of Atila and Ailsa.’ The registrar had now found his voice was over-compensating by talking in an extra loud voice.


  ‘Ayshe,’ Ayshe corrected him.

  ‘Pardon me.’ His slapover slid down over his eyes again. ‘Atila and Ayshe.’ He adjusted his hair. ‘What is marriage?’ His eyes darted round the room manically, giving him a crazy I’ve-been-let-out-of-a-mental-home-for-the-day look. I didn’t know if he had forgotten his lines or this was actually a question thrown open to the audience because he paused a little too long, and everyone began to shuffle in their seats. ‘It is the joining of two people to love, honour and protect each other,’ he carried on finally. ‘And how do they do that?’ He looked around again for another few minutes, then pulled some notes out of his pocket, glancing down now and then to read them. ‘They have to grow together like a mixture of plants in the garden.’

  I scanned the room and it was obvious that people were either quite baffled or were trying hard not to laugh.

  ‘Once…I planted a rose bush, and it didn’t grow. Do you know why?’ No one did, and neither did he, as he dropped his notes on the floor. When he bent down to retrieve them, his slapover slid over his eyes, again. ‘Hmm.’ He coughed, rearranged himself again and studied his notes to see where he’d got to. ‘The reason was because I hadn’t planted it in the correct soil. And do you know what that meant?’ He surveyed the room. A couple of the elderly guests had started to fall asleep and others looked at each other quizzically.

  ‘What?’ Deniz boomed at him.

  He looked at his notes again. ‘Incorrect soil. If you plant a tree or a bush or a shrub, or even a rose, you must give it a good mix of soil, water and love in order to make it grow well. You have to nurture and look after it.’ A bead of sweat dribbled down his forehead and, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, he dabbed at it, which completely messed up his hair again. Having decided there was probably not much point in trying to smooth it down again, he left the dreadful slapover trailing over the side of his face, dangling down by his ear.

  Deniz tried to suppress a laugh, but it was no use. It slipped out and the congregation tittered behind him.

  ‘A marriage is exactly the same. It is a mixture of two people, and you have to nurture it to make it grow. If you don’t….’ He brought his finger up in the air for emphasis. ‘It will wither away and die!’ He barked out the last cheery word, which woke up a few of the snoozers at the back. Atila giggled.

  I caught Kalem’s eye. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I had to avert my eyes as the urge to giggle fell upon me too.

  ‘Now, before we carry on, someone is going to read a poem.’ He peered at his notes again. ‘Kaleb is going to read a poem he has written especially for the occasion entitled: What is love? Where is Kaleb, please?’

  ‘Kalem,’ Kalem corrected him. He unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket and stood next to Mr. Slapover.

  Kalem concentrated all his attention on me alone and began to read.

  ‘What is love? Is it a midnight breath upon my cheek, when I know she’s still asleep?’ He gazed at me with sincerity in his eyes, and I felt myself flushing. ‘Is it a smile, a touch, or holding hands? Or when I know she understands?’ He shifted his feet slightly. ‘Is it because it’s for me that she only has eyes? Or because I know that forever we’re tied? Is Love the thing that we seek the most? If we find it, that’s when we can really boast.’ He smiled at me and took up his position next to Atila again.

  It was short and sweet, but it made my legs turn to marshmallows as his eyes held mine like a magnet from across the room.

  After Atila and Ayshe had said their vows Mr. Slapover turned to them, tucking his dangling hair behind his ear. ‘I now pronounce Atila and Ailsa – I mean Atila and Ayshe – man and wife. You may kiss the bridge – I mean bride.’ He flushed.

  Atila and Ayshe grinned and kissed each other on the lips as everyone clapped. I started snapping away, frantically recording the happy moment. After they had signed the wedding books, I took up a position at the beginning of the aisle to photograph them as they wandered out into the gardens.

  ‘Bloody strangest ceremony I’ve ever been to. I don’t know why they didn’t want a traditional Turkish wedding. Is it whisky-o’-clock yet?’ Deniz muttered to me as he shuffled past.

  I spent an hour in the picturesque gardens, arranging and rearranging the guests for the photographs. When everyone had departed to the bar in search of a much needed drink, I kissed Atila and Ayshe, who were both discussing the shortest ceremony in history. Kalem appeared behind me and handed me a glass of Buck’s Fizz.

  ‘Are you all done now?’ he asked.

  ‘Do you want me to take any more?’ I looked at Atila and Ayshe.

  Ayshe shook her head, picking up the hem of her dress. ‘No, I’ve had enough now. My face feels like it’s going to fall off from too much smiling. Let’s go inside and get some food before all the relatives start to pin money on us.’ She glanced at Atila, who was clearly ecstatic that they were now finally married as they ambled off into the building again, leaving me and Kalem standing outside in the glorious winter sunshine.

  ‘I loved your poem. I didn’t even know you had written one.’ I squinted up at him through the low sunlight.

  He looked embarrassed as he took a sip of his drink. ‘I wrote it for you, actually.’

  I almost choked on my drink. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come with me.’ He took my hand and marched me off to a nearby bench overlooking the river which meandered through the grounds. It was overhung by ancient, low-hanging weeping willows, devoid of any leaves.

  He took my glass, placing it on the ground. Shifting in his seat, he looked at the floor. ‘I’ve been offered another teaching job.’

  ‘That’s great.’

  ‘The only thing is it’s at a university in North Cyprus. My mum’s still got the house that she was born in over there, so I’d have somewhere to stay. It needs a bit of renovating, but you should see it,’ his eyes sparkled as he spoke, ‘views of the sea and mountains, goats and sheep wandering around the hills. It’s spectacular.’ He paused. ‘I just want to get back to basics, you know, get away from the rat-race. Have a better quality of life and wake up to the sun shining three-hundred and sixty days a year.’

  As his words sunk in, I felt the weight of them crushing me. I slumped down on the bench, deflated. Only one thought spun round in my brain. He was leaving.

  ‘Oh! Well, that’s a…surprise. Well done.’ Shocked, I tried to compose myself. I tried desperately to sound pleased for him, but even to my ears, the words sounded forced. ‘What did Ayshe say?’

  ‘I haven’t told her yet. I wanted to wait until after the wedding. This is her day and I didn’t want to spoil it by upsetting her.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m only going to take it on a couple of conditions, though.’

  ‘What conditions?’

  He glanced up at me slowly. ‘That you come with me. I’ve done some research and you could do your photography out there with no problems.’

  ‘What? But why?’

  He faltered, as if looking for the right words. ‘Because I’m in love with you, too, Helen. There, I’ve said it now. I’ve wanted to say it for so long. You’re completely crazy and a total disaster magnet, but it makes you unique, and you are so funny – even when you’re not trying to be. I can’t think of anything else except you.’

  His words hung, suspended in air. I gaped at him in speechless amazement for what felt like an eternity. Then I trembled with emotion as my heartbeat increased in tempo.

  ‘Me? Why me? You think I’m a complete nightmare.’

  ‘I know.’ He shrugged. ‘I love the way you throw wine over people and throw up at snobby dinner parties. I love how you always do ridiculous things, like getting caught shoplifting when you haven’t even done anything. I love the way you can’t even go food shopping without something completely bizarre happening to you – I’m still not keen on the streaking part, but I know that was an accident, and I kind of over-reacted a bit because I was feeling protective of you.’ He paused. ‘You’re just…just
special. You’re perfect just the way you are.’

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth until my lips hurt. He tasted of champagne and I could smell his sexy Kalem aroma. His arms encircled me, and I could sense his hunger. I fitted into him perfectly. When we both pulled back, he was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘I feel the same.’ I took a deep breath.

  ‘Thank God for that. I’ve been going crazy trying to work out how to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin everything between us if you didn’t feel the same way, but then yesterday in the coffee shop–’

  ‘But what about your family? They aren’t going to approve, and they’ll hate me.’ I pulled back, gazing at him with anxious eyes.

  ‘I’ve already had a chat with them. They love you, too, Helen, they couldn’t be happier.’

  ‘Wow!’ I let this sink in for a moment. ‘But you’re seeing Zerdali, aren’t you?’

  ‘What?’ It was his turn to look shocked.

  ‘You know…Zerdali.’ I bit my lip, waiting for his answer.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ A slight frown quivered on his forehead.

  ‘You were going on a date with her.’

  He threw his head back, roaring with laughter. ‘Yesterday she was giving me some advice about the job offer. She used to work at a university in North Cyprus before she moved here and wanted to show me some curriculums they used.’

  ‘Well what about the other day when I saw you in town together.’

  ‘Helen, I was in town with her because I was helping her choose a birthday present for her nephew.’ He paused. ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘She’s a lesbian who’s been with her girlfriend for about ten years, so she’s got no interest in men, other than friendship.’

  ‘Is she? Wow!’ I considered that for a moment, head on one side. ‘What about the speed-dating, though? Why were you there?’

  ‘Helen, you must know me better than that by now. I really was at the speed-dating for a B.O.G meeting. I just got the dates mixed up and went on the wrong night.’