Wedding Tiers

by Trisha Ashley

  ‘I can see Olivia in the sticky amber role, so I know where you’re coming from there,’ I said drily, ‘but you flew into it with your eyes open.’

  ‘Look, Josie, I’ve talked it all through with Stella and Mark—they’ve been great! I can see I was stupid to give in to an infatuation and not realise I risked losing everything I most valued. But I’ve come to my senses now and I understand how much I’ve hurt you. So I want you to know that if you take me back, I’ll never give you a moment’s worry ever again. I’ll make it all up to you, darling!’

  All three of them looked expectantly at me, but I didn’t seem to know my lines. Had I inadvertently stepped into an insane episode of The Archers, a story of seriously deluded countryfolk?

  I heard myself say, not without regret and sadness, ‘It’s too late, Ben. Way, way too late.’

  ‘No, don’t say that. Of course it isn’t too late,’ he said. ‘I can tell you’ve been missing me—you look thin and pale. You need me just as much as I need you.’

  ‘And you have to think what this means to Ben’s work too,’ put in Mark.

  Now that did make me feel a bit guilty, but that was mainly over the ongoing rotting crustacean thing.

  ‘Perhaps we should go and leave you alone for a bit,’ suggested Stella with a meaningful look at Mark, ‘to discuss things.’

  ‘There’s nothing to discuss, because Ben’s living with another woman and she’s pregnant with his child. That’s where his responsibilities lie now and he can’t just throw up his hands and walk away. In fact, his mother just rang me and said he would have married Olivia if he hadn’t felt so sorry for me. She wanted me to leave you alone, Ben—though actually I haven’t contacted you at all since you left, have I? It’s all been the other way round.’

  ‘If I married anyone, it would be you! We still could marry. What do you think? Shall we tie the knot and to hell with everyone else?’ he demanded. ‘My parents can stick their allowance and their approval where the sun doesn’t shine. Being here in Neatslake with you is all that matters to me now.’

  I had so longed for Ben to ask me to marry him, especially when Granny was alive, but this hardly ranked as the proposal of my dreams…And then the meaning of what he had said percolated through and I said slowly, ‘You mean…can you possibly mean that you never married me simply because your parents would have cut off your allowance, Ben Richards? That it wasn’t because you didn’t believe in marriage, or all the other things you used to say about not needing to prove our love by signing up to an outdated institution?’ Tears came to my eyes. ‘I respected your principles, however much it hurt me—and upset Granny—and yet all the time it was to do with money!’

  ‘No, of course it wasn’t!’ he blustered shiftily. ‘That’s not what I meant at all! I didn’t believe in marriage, but now I can see how selfish I was and what it would mean to you. Please, please marry me now, Josie, and let’s settle back down as we were.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so, thanks. Try Olivia.’

  ‘Look, my mother and Olivia have got together and think they can force me into something I don’t want, but they can’t,’ he said, starting to look impatient and harassed. Just how much of an easy pushover had he expected me to be?

  ‘I’ve been looking for somewhere else to live, but it’s not easy in London and I really, really just want to come back home,’ he pleaded.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben. I do forgive you for what you did, but I don’t want you back. I’ve written you out of “Cakes and Ale” and out of my life. I’ve moved on. You need to do the same now,’ I said sadly, but with finality.

  ‘I didn’t think you could be so hard, Josie!’ Stella exclaimed, sounding shocked. ‘You’ll drive him away and into marrying Olivia, and then you’ll be sorry.’

  ‘No, I don’t think I will be sorry,’ I said, and turning, walked out.

  I’m not sure quite how I drove home. I’ve no recollection of it at all, but I think between them, Ben and his mother are about to turn me into a lush.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Unwanted Presence

  Some people put sugar in their shortcrust pastry when they are making mince pies, but I don’t. Granny always made them in thin pastry shells with a generous filling of home-made mincemeat—sweet, but still slightly tart—and now that’s the way I do it. The cult of sweetness seems to have gone too far. When I am given bought bread at friends’ houses I am amazed at how sickly sweet that is too. But why would people want sweet bread? Or do they have such a sweet tooth that they don’t notice?

  ‘Cakes and Ale’

  When I got home I just carried on with what I had to do, but on automatic pilot because my mind was replaying the scene in Mark and Stella’s kitchen over and over again, on an endless loop. I could see Ben’s face—puzzled, hurt, and hopeful; hear his once-beloved voice, cajoling, explaining, and trying to smooth away what had come between us—this troublesome wrinkle of infidelity in the fabric of our lives.

  Maybe he should try hanging it in a steamy bathroom, like my bridesmaid’s dress?

  But was I being unreasonable, as Mark and Stella seemed to think? Was it possible to forgive him and start over again? It wasn’t that I didn’t long for the clock to be put back, for everything to be as it was, but how could that happen? I’d thought I’d known him through and through, but not only had he betrayed me with Olivia but also, it seems, lied about why he didn’t want to get married.

  Olivia wasn’t the type to butt out gracefully, either, even without the small but insuperable matter of the baby. We couldn’t pretend that had never happened, or that Ben’s child wasn’t out there, growing up without a father.

  No, despite that momentary weakness when I had yearned to be safe in his arms again for ever, I was sure I’d made the right decision in tearing him up by the roots and leaving the place where he once was in my heart to lie fallow.

  And one thing was for sure: I would never completely trust a man again.

  Libby thought I’d made the right decision about Ben too—the only possible one—when I rang up and told her all about it, which was comforting. But then she said she had to go because Noah had just arrived—the man, after Ben, I least wanted to see ever again.

  ‘Libby, if he mentions me, tell him I’ve gone away for Christmas!’ I said urgently before she rang off, but she just laughed.

  Later, while I was making more mince pies with a large glass of last year’s parsnip wine at my elbow, there was a knock at the door. Subconsciously, I’d been half expecting Ben to turn up, but really, really hoping he wouldn’t. He couldn’t see me, because the curtains were shut, so I wondered if perhaps I could ignore him and hope he would go away…

  But no, there was a thunderous repeat of the knocking and anyway, he still had a key and could get in if I didn’t answer. Wiping my hands on my apron I opened the door, resolutely prepared to send him away again, only to have the wind taken right out of my sails when it wasn’t him.

  ‘Russell? Well, this is a surprise!’ I exclaimed, peering past him to look for the car. ‘Where’s Mary? Are you on your way somewhere for Christmas?’

  ‘No, I thought I’d just pop up for a night, to see how you were coping,’ he said, with his familiar, toothy smile. ‘Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.’

  ‘I—well, I suppose so,’ I said, because I couldn’t very well leave one of our oldest friends standing on the doorstep in the biting wind, could I? Anyway, I needed to check the first batch of mince pies and put the next lot in, so I did that while Russell dumped the holdall he was carrying on the floor and divested himself of his outer layers.

  ‘Those smell good!’ he said, as I manoeuvred steaming mince pies out of the tray and onto a wire rack.

  I smacked his hand away before he burned it. ‘Russell, did you say you’d come all the way up here just for one night?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, but really, you didn’t need to. I feel quite guilty now!
Where are you staying?’

  ‘Here, of course,’ he said, looking surprised. This time he managed to snatch a mince pie before I could stop him, then shifted it from hand to hand like a hot chestnut.

  ‘Here? Oh, no!’ I exclaimed in dismay. ‘I mean—it’s lovely to see you, but I wish you’d told me first, because you can’t stay here tonight, not without Mary. It wouldn’t look right.’

  Russell stared at me from his muddy-brown eyes with some astonishment. Frost was melting into drops of moisture on his moustache and beard, and the Arctic explorer look didn’t really suit him. ‘I didn’t expect you to go all Victorian and prudish about putting me up, Josie! And Mary won’t worry because I told her I was visiting an old friend, one she doesn’t like.’

  ‘That just shows you know she wouldn’t like it, Russell. I mean, if you’d come all this way just to visit me for a few hours, and she knew about it, that would be one thing, but to sneak off for the night with a lie is quite another.’

  ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me,’ he said sullenly. ‘I don’t see why we can’t be cosy together tonight, if Mary knows nothing about it.’ He tried a smile that he obviously thought alluring. ‘Come on, Josie, you know you’ve always fancied me! I thought you’d give me a warmer welcome than this.’

  If I’d known he was after something that hot I would have let him burn his mouth on the mince pies.

  ‘No, I haven’t always fancied you, Russell—I can’t believe you could even think that! We’ve known each other a long time and I’m quite fond of you,’ I said, though I was a lot less sure about it at that moment, ‘but I’ve never fancied you in the least!’

  ‘You just don’t want to admit that there’s always been a spark between us.’

  ‘Only in your drunken imaginings! You always did tend to get a bit overfamiliar when you’d had too much to drink, but I didn’t think anything of it, except that it irritated Mary.’

  ‘You’re protesting too much,’ he said, coming round the table with obvious intentions. ‘Let’s kiss and be friends.’

  ‘Let’s not,’ I replied, edging away. ‘If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to scream!’

  ‘What, and give old Harry a heart attack?’ He grinned confidently.

  ‘OK, then I’ll phone Mary and tell her what you’re up to.’

  ‘I’ll deny everything,’ he said, though to my relief he stopped moving towards me.

  Then he made a sudden lunge and grabbed my wrist. Startled, I did let out a yell, though by then I’d remembered that Harry would be at the Neatslake Seniors’ Club in the parish hall, playing in a dominoes tournament.

  More to the point, I snatched up an empty metal mince pie tray with my other hand and crashed it over his stupid head with as much force as I could, considering it was my left hand and an awkward angle. He yelped and the tin hit the flagged floor with a noise like nearby thunder.

  In the resulting silence a smooth, deep, familiar voice enquired from behind me, ‘Am I interrupting something, or in the nick of time? Only the front door was on the latch and I wasn’t sure which would be more tactful—to come in, or go away.’

  ‘Noah!’ I gasped gratefully. Russell released his grip and I shot across the room like a homing pigeon and grabbed his arm, before realising quite what I was doing.

  He looked mildly surprised at my enthusiastic welcome, but said, ‘Hi, Josie,’ and kissed me on both cheeks, smelling of that delicious aftershave.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ demanded Russell belligerently.

  ‘This is—’ I began to say, but Russell answered his own question.

  ‘I know who you are—that photographer, Noah Sephton!’ Then he looked suspiciously from one to the other of us. ‘But I don’t see what you’re doing here? How do you come to know each other?’

  ‘Noah is an old friend of Libby’s. He was the usher at her wedding and I was the bridesmaid.’ I tried to sound casual, but since this was the first time I’d come face to face with Noah since then, I felt myself go a little pink.

  ‘And you got friendly, perhaps?’ Russell suggested. ‘So friendly, he just turns up and walks straight in, sure of a warm welcome? No wonder you wanted to get rid of me quickly!’

  ‘You have a nasty mind, Russell Brown!’ I said with dignity. ‘And I really think you’ve outstayed your welcome.’

  ‘All in good time. Have you told Ben you’ve replaced him so quickly? Only he seems to think you’ve been going to pieces without him and you’re dying for him to move back in.’

  ‘I haven’t replaced Ben and nor am I about to go to pieces,’ I said, loosening my grip on Noah, but staying nearby. ‘I’ve got a lovely home, a successful business and good friends—that’s all I need. Now, if you’d like to clear off back to London, we’ll pretend this sorry interlude never happened. Or alternatively, you could give Ben a ring and go and explain what you’re doing up here. He’s staying nearby.’

  ‘Ben’s here too? Does he know about…?’ He jerked his head at Noah.

  ‘There’s nothing to know—and none of his business, or yours, if there were. Goodbye, Russell.’

  Russell gave me a dirty look but picked up his bag and left, slamming the door after him, leaving me and Noah alone together in the sudden silence.

  What do you say to a man you don’t really know, apart from one night of wild, drunken, marvellous sex? One, moreover, who’s just rescued you from an attempt on what’s left of your virtue?

  ‘Do you want a cup of tea and a hot mince pie?’ I offered tentatively, and his thin, dark face split into that attractively lopsided grin.

  ‘Anything except peapod wine.’

  I blushed again, more hotly. ‘I went off alcohol for a bit, though as you can see that’s wearing off again.’ I gestured at my half-full glass on the table. ‘But that’s only parsnip. What brought you to my door so opportunely?’

  ‘I thought you might be in need of another emotional enema,’ he said, a glint in his light grey eyes.

  I couldn’t get any redder. ‘No, seriously?’

  ‘I’m just being friendly. Since Pia told me all about you and this Ben, your teenage sweetheart and the love of your life, I’ve felt guilty about what we did. I just wanted to apologise and make sure you’re really OK.’

  ‘I’m absolutely fine and I knew what I was doing: Libby’d warned me about you.’

  ‘Warned you about what, exactly?’

  ‘Only that you have lots of casual affairs, you don’t get involved—and you admitted as much to me yourself. Which was fine,’ I assured him hastily. ‘In fact, it was just what I needed to shock me out of wallowing in my misery and set me on the road to getting on with my life. So you needn’t feel guilty, because I felt quite grateful afterwards, if it makes you feel better. Now, let’s just forget all about it, OK?’

  He looked a bit stunned, to be honest. ‘So, I’m just a casual philanderer who moves on from woman to woman, without a backward glance? Some kind of Casanova?’

  ‘Well, no, actually I think you seem quite kind. You did leave me your phone number and then contacted me to see if I was all right. And then here you are again, still concerned. But you needn’t be, because as I said, sleeping with you helped me come to terms with everything.’

  ‘Gee, thanks,’ he said drily. ‘I can see my concern was misplaced.’

  ‘Actually, Pia said you’re still going out with that model you turned up here with the first time we met, so I’m the one who should feel guilty.’

  His face looked inscrutable. ‘Did she? Well, you needn’t feel guilty on Anji’s account. She shares her favours with all her friends.’

  I couldn’t tell from his voice if he minded about that or not—but maybe that sort of thing is the norm in the circles he moves in. If so, there is not so much a cultural chasm as an abyss between the social mores of Neatslake and those of London.

  ‘So, what’s happening with the Ben situation now?’ he asked me. ‘Presumably he’s staying locally in the hope of seei
ng you? I hope I haven’t messed that up?’

  I looked down at the steam rising from my mug. ‘He already has seen me. He was in a friend’s house when I went round earlier. He asked me to take him back again, but I told him it was over. He was having an affair for months, you know, and now this other woman is pregnant.’

  ‘Yes, Libby told me.’

  ‘Ben says he misses being able to come back here to recharge his artistic batteries and it’s affecting his work, as if it is my fault. And he can’t seem to get it through his thick head that I’m not part of his life any more. How stupid can he be, to think that everything could ever be the same again?’

  ‘Very stupid. In fact, I can’t imagine why he ever looked at another woman when he had you,’ Noah said gravely.

  I looked at him doubtfully, pretty sure he was paying me back for what I’d said about enemas.

  Olivia—that’s the other woman’s name—is trying to pressurise him into marrying her, and his parents are all for it too, especially his mother. He offered to marry me instead, though he’s always said marriage was an outdated ritual that he wasn’t going to pander to—and then he let slip that he’d only been against the idea before because his parents would have cut off his allowance, not because it was against his principles! One word and he’d have come straight home with me.’

  ‘But you didn’t give that word?’

  ‘No,’ I sighed. ‘It was all a bit surreal. He looked like Ben, but inside he was a stranger, someone I didn’t know at all. I don’t believe in love any more,’ I added gloomily. ‘Or not romantic love. I’m like you, I suppose.’

  ‘Oh, no, I’m a real romantic at heart,’ he said, to my surprise and disbelief. ‘I know it’s possible to fall in love—truly, head-whirlingly, dazzlingly in love.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes, didn’t Libby tell you I was once married?’

  ‘That’s right—she did! And she said it was all tragic, like Love Story. I’m so sorry I forgot! How selfish of me to be so bound up in my own troubles when something so very sad has happened to you.’