How to Marry Your Husband

by Jacqueline Rohen

  David caught a glimpse of Rachel in the front row. He knew he was at fault. He had deprived her of a loving ceremony like this one in front of their friends and family. What a selfish bastard he had been. Well, not anymore.

  The festivities were raucous for everyone bar the wedding couple. Poor Beth was exhausted and stayed seated for the evening celebrations, Jojo sitting protectively by her side. People danced around the blushing brides. David watched with amusement as Kevin followed Eva around the party like a puppy. Rachel was in full work-mode and dished out orders to everyone – she threw her phone at David and charged him with recording a message for Beth’s absent parents. As he fumbled with the video settings, he started saying: ‘Hey, Mr and Mrs …’ and then paused filming when Beth’s surname slipped from his mind.

  ‘Taylor!’ Jojo reminded him.

  ‘Of course it’s Taylor.’ He held the phone steady to start recording again, when a notification popped up on the screen.

  NHS-NoReply: THANKS FOR USING THE WOLVERTON CENTRE HEALTH SERVICES – YOUR TEST RESULTS ARE NEGATIVE.

  What tests?!

  He searched Rachel’s text messages and couldn’t find anything more from the hospital. Flustered, he deleted the offending message accidentally as Rachel was walking towards him. On autopilot, he quickly recorded a video clip for Beth’s parents, again stumbling over their surname. It would have to do. He handed back Rachel’s phone.

  David hid in a recess by the bar and Googled ‘Wolverton Centre’. His worst fears were realised: it was a sexual health clinic. He asked the bartender for a double Jack Daniel’s and downed it. Questions filled David’s head. Did Rachel know about his infidelity? Was she seeing someone else – he’d asked her and she hadn’t actually denied it, but laughed it off. Was Rachel having an affair? He felt doubt punch him in the stomach. David looked over and saw his wife hugging the wedding DJ. The man was short but extremely good-looking, even David had to acknowledge it. He was built like a tank, all muscle, like Tom Hardy on steroids. Did he imagine it or had the DJ’s hands lingered too long on Rachel’s waist?

  David ordered another double Jack Daniel’s and headed towards the DJ booth.

  Rachel

  34

  Rachel was cornered by Gavin, who thanked her for getting him the gig. She told him it was no problem, and said she’d use him again. And she meant it. He was a great DJ. More importantly, he didn’t let his ego get in the way. If the client wanted 1980s cheesy tunes, that’s what they got, even when Gavin obviously preferred 1970s rock.

  ‘Babe, seriously! I’m having such a great time. This is all I want – being paid to play tunes.’ He went in for a hug.

  Rachel was awkward in Gavin’s arms. The embrace felt alien. They didn’t fit together in the natural way that she and David did. She didn’t feel comfortable. She didn’t feel at home.

  ‘Let’s get a picture.’ Gavin whipped out his phone and took ten consecutive selfies of himself with Rachel. ‘These are great.’

  She left Gavin to his tunes. Rachel was overwhelmed by the wedding fever all around. Today’s joining of Jojo and Beth. Her widowed mother engaged again. She was truly envious. For the first time she admitted to herself that she resented not having had her own traditional wedding ceremony. No big celebration with friends and family. Instead she had fallen in with David’s wishes. She had agreed that everything was okay, that her needs were being addressed. She had even fallen out with her mother about it.

  Eva clicked her fingers in her friend’s face. ‘Earth to Rachel, Earth to Rachel!’

  ‘I was just thinking … It’s great isn’t it? Everyone is happy, right?

  ‘Rach, you have done an amazing job. I was thinking we should write to a couple of the bridal mags and blogs and show what you’ve achieved at such short notice. Only a couple of months. You could be the queen of last-minute weddings!’

  ‘What we have achieved. Talking about thinking, let’s discuss the business when we’re finished here and have caught up on some sleep. Let’s concentrate exclusively on events from now on.’

  ‘Whatever you say, boss.’

  ‘And less of that. I want you to be my business partner. I meant what I said: I could only have pulled this off with your help, Eva. And if I’m honest, I wouldn’t even have a business if you hadn’t been there these past weeks. You don’t have to say anything now.’

  ‘Sounds like a—’ Eva interrupted herself. ‘Rachel,’ she said, pointing, ‘what’s David doing? He looks like he wants to lamp the DJ.’

  ‘What?’ Rachel followed Eva’s gaze.

  David was heading, eyes narrowed, towards the booth.

  ‘Maybe he doesn’t like Simple Minds?’

  ‘False alarm!’ Eva laughed, as she and Rachel watched David swerve the DJ booth and circle back to the bar. ‘Anyway, you owe me some gossip. You didn’t tell me about the rest of your date with hunky Dr Doolittle—’

  ‘It wasn’t a date, and he’s hardly my type—’ Rachel was interrupted by one of the blushing brides.

  ‘Are you talking about the DJ – who knew nerdy Gavin would turn into such a beefcake?’ Jojo joined in the conversation.

  ‘What? No.’ Eva explained they were talking about the hot new vet in town before Rachel waved away any mention of Luke.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she said.

  Jojo was still David’s sister after all. Realising her faux-pas, Eva found a reason to excuse herself and went to rescue Beth from an over-zealous religious uncle.

  ‘What’s this about a vet?’ Jojo asked.

  ‘Long story involving an accidental dinner.’

  ‘Rachel, you sly fox!’

  ‘Nothing like that.’ A little bit like that. She liked Luke, but it was David who gave her butterflies in her stomach.

  ‘We need to catch up properly when you’re back from your honeymoon.’

  Jojo raised her eyebrows. ‘I know you and David are having a hard time, but …’ She held her hand up then as if to say she didn’t want to interfere. She gave Rachel a hug. ‘Thank you so much for all you’ve done. You’re a wedding goddess. But would you mind awfully if Beth and I slip off now?’

  ‘It’s your wedding!’ Rachel looked over and saw Beth attempting to keep her head up and pretending not to yawn. It was gone midnight.

  ‘All she wants is a foot rub!’

  ‘Welcome to married life. I’ll find you a driver. All the presents have been packed away, I’ll drop them off when you’re back. I’ve saved the top tier of cake for—’

  ‘Baby’s christening? You’re amazing.’

  Jojo and Rachel helped Beth to her feet and somehow got her to the car without anyone noticing.

  Rachel and Eva finally sat with a glass of Champagne each and enjoyed the last of the party. Kevin and David seemed to be having a dance-off competition, with David self-proclaiming himself the winner. Afterwards Kevin came over and asked Eva to dance. She looked at Rachel, who checked her watch.

  ‘You’re officially off the clock, go dance!’

  Rachel was envious of Eva’s dance-like-nobody’s-watching attitude, as her and Kevin threw middle-aged shapes on the dance floor.

  In the taxi home she held David’s hand and marvelled at the way their palms still fitted together perfectly.

  Rachel woke after a long sleep. Although they were exhausting, weddings tended to bring out the best in people. She called Eva, who was also still in bed, and they discussed the clean-up that needed to be done. Rachel asked if Eva managed to get much sleep after their late night.

  ‘Hmmmm, about that …’ Eva said.

  ‘Hello, sis,’ came her brother’s voice from Eva’s end of the call. Rachel was lost for words as she put two and two together and got Kevin and Eva in bed.

  ‘Well, I never! Please can you put Eva back on?’

  ‘Don’t judge,’ Eva insisted.

  ‘I wouldn’t dare, so long as …’ Rachel was going to say, so long as Eva was happy. If all they wanted was some fun together the
n so be it, and if they found they wanted more then great, but she didn’t want to see either of them hurt. She didn’t want to ruin their post-coital morning, though, and kept her thoughts to herself. ‘No rush, I’ll see you when I see you. Lydia’s holding the fort at the office.’

  Rachel smiled, thinking of Eva and Kevin, and hoped it was indeed the start of something. In spite of her protestations about being an independent woman, Eva wanted someone to look after her and Kevin wanted someone to be better for. She could warn her friend about his past but actually, on reflection, they had trodden similar paths and might well be perfect for one another. How had Rachel not seen it before?

  Rachel picked up her to-do list. It was two pages long. She really should get out of bed. She ticked off 1. CALL EVA.

  Now for 2. CALL CLINIC.

  She Googled the number for the Wolverton Centre. After a glut of automated options, she was connected to a real person. She gave her name and date of birth and waited for the computer to catch up. The receptionist said she should have already received a text with the results, but confirmed Rachel had been given the all clear. Thirty-four years old and still no sexually transmitted diseases (bouts of cystitis and thrush aside)! She celebrated with a small whoop.

  She looked back at her list: 3. CALL GAZEBO GARY. Rachel decided that could wait until after a cup of coffee. Items 4, 5, and 6 could too.

  Rachel floated down the stairs on a calm cloud until she heard David wheezing, groaning and gasping for air. Renewed guilt washed over her. He still showed the bruises from when she’d attempted to administer CPR to his apparently lifeless body. Scared of what she might find, she ran into the kitchen.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Rachel watched him trying to wrestle Neville into a submissive position. There was an empty box of chocolates on the floor. And David was trying to smell the cat’s breath.

  ‘Did you leave the chocolates out?’ Rachel accused him.

  ‘I didn’t mean t—’

  ‘You know chocolate can be fatal for cats.’

  ‘Yes, Rachel, I know it can kill them,’ David said flatly. ‘Like I said, I didn’t mean—’

  ‘You’re going to have to take Neville and Oscar to the vet’s straight away! I’ve got to clear up after the wedding …’ Rachel looked at her watch, pretending to be pressed for time. Any excuse. She didn’t feel ready to see Dr Luke just yet.

  ‘I’m on my way out too,’ David said unhelpfully.

  Rachel didn’t ask where.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘The vet is a dog man.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. It’s your fault an entire box of Belgian chocolates might or might not have been devoured by one or both of our cats.’ Rachel hoped David didn’t notice her blush at the memory of the dinner date she shared with Dr Luke, and how she felt when he kissed her on the lips as he put her in a taxi.

  David left the kitchen, mumbling he was going to be late.

  ‘The least you could do is help me get them into the cages!’ she called after him. It was too late, David was already out the front door.

  Rachel was left in the empty house, accepting it was over between them and it was never coming back. She’d thought she could win her husband all over again, but it hadn’t worked.

  They should sell the house and divide their possessions. David could have the coffee machine if he wanted. She was done. He would always be a part of her life but sadly not of her future. She hoped with time their friendship would survive. She braced herself at the prospect of encountering Amelia-Rose at family gatherings. Or maybe Rachel would be slowly phased out and would have to see Jojo and Beth in secret.

  She knew she needed to have it out with David once and for all. It was time to call time. If it wasn’t his birthday weekend coming up, she might already have had the courage to say all the things she was thinking.

  Rachel called the vet’s office and asked for an emergency appointment. Her fear of seeing Dr Luke had subsided. She wondered if she had time to apply lipstick and mascara?

  Neville and Oscar had been living the high life. Rachel had offered them treats every time she felt low – she had been comfort-feeding them. She felt immense remorse at being labelled a feeder, one of those people she had seen in a documentary. Admittedly, it had concentrated on human relationships, but she was obviously a person who gleaned pleasure from feeding others with complete disregard for their obesity or compromised health. She loved to feed her (not-so) little cats. They danced around her legs when she shook the treats tin. They loved her so, but Dr Luke had practically accused her of killing them with kindness.

  Rachel collected the cat boxes from the garage and braced herself for drama. She sympathised with their plight, she wouldn’t want to be shut up in a cage either. She went to close the kitchen door to thwart any dashes for freedom, just in time to hear David come blustering back in through the front door.

  ‘I’m here, I’ll take them.’ He swiftly placed both cats in their respective boxes without further altercation. To her surprise, David kissed Rachel on both cheeks and proclaimed that he loved her, he loved the cats and he loved their life together. She watched as he carried both cats, one box in each hand, to the car and drove off.

  David

  35

  David couldn’t sleep after the wedding and stayed up after Rachel went to bed. He poured himself a final nightcap and opened a box of Belgian chocolates, an early birthday present from his mum. ‘They were on offer,’ she’d told him.

  He was distracted by thoughts of Rachel. What about the DJ? She’d said they had recently rekindled their friendship. How recently? How rekindled? How friendly? Rachel wouldn’t invite an ex-boyfriend to DJ for Jojo’s wedding if something was going on. Would she? Or had she hired him because something was going on? David wished he hadn’t deleted the message from that clinic. He needed to study it for clues.

  Grudgingly, he’d accepted Gavin ‘The Gecko of Grunge’ Thompson’s business card and now he was glad he had. He didn’t have to investigate, the card provided direct links to all of Gavin’s social media. There were already photos from Jojo’s wedding posted including a selfie of Gavin and Rachel together with the comment ‘ThanX to the hostess with the mostess. Gr8 gal!’ followed by a row of red hearts.

  David’s last whisky was relegated to a penultimate drink as he added a second tot to his glass. He thought he knew Rachel’s type, and Gavin wasn’t it. Except he was wrong because once, apparently, at university for six weeks Gavin had been. David had lost all hope. And thought maybe the answer might lie at the bottom of the bottle. He added a third tot of the smoky Laphroaig to his glass.

  David hardly slept. He woke hourly to find his heart pounding. He lamented his over-indulgence in food and alcohol, and acknowledged his sheer mental exhaustion, and prayed he wasn’t having a panic attack. He tried breathing exercises and finally crashed to the tune of the dawn chorus. He woke suddenly after two hours of much-needed REM, dragged himself out of bed and switched on the coffee machine. It was clearly a triple espresso morning, but with the Cardiac Physiologist’s advice ringing in his ears, he reduced it to one large espresso. He asked the cats to quieten their meowing, as he explained to them how much alcohol he had foolishly consumed. He was adding a layer of cat biscuits to each of their bowls when he spied the overturned box of chocolates. He tried to recall how many of them he’d eaten. It was more than a few. But the whole box? He shut the kitchen door as he circled Neville, who was chomping happily on his biscuits and caught unawares as David scooped him up. Neville struggled to escape, and David was shouting at him to stay still until Rachel interrupted their clinch.

  She was near-hysterical, reasoning Neville and Oscar were both poisoned and on the brink of death. She demanded David take them to the vet at once. He momentarily shut down. It was all too much: the hangover, the lack of caffeine, plus the hopelessness of the situation – he had to get out of there.

  David left the house having decided
to walk the two miles to the station. He was a mess. He checked his pockets for cigarettes knowing he didn’t have any. It wasn’t fair to call Jojo, she was leaving for her honeymoon. They were spending two nights in the village of Portmeirion, home of the television series The Prisoner. And to make matters worse (for Jojo), Beth’s parents had decided to join them there, to make up for missing Beth’s big day. They had proclaimed that a honeymoon didn’t need to be a private affair when one bride was already with child.

  As if by magic, David’s phone started to ring. He was delighted to see Jojo’s name on the display.

  ‘Hey, I was just thinking about—’

  ‘I can’t talk for long,’ she whispered, ‘we’re about to leave, and I’ve promised no phones. Listen, I was wrong. I know I told you to slow down with Rachel, but I was wrong. You know what got her attention the first time around – BIG FUCK-OFF DISPLAYS of affection, spontaneity and a whirlwind proposal. That’s what worked. I was wrong. You have to woo the shit out of her! And tell her everything, and I mean everything. Fuck what I said before, she needs the honest you. Give her your heart, your soul, your entire being.’

  ‘What’s changed your mind? What has she said?’

  ‘Just make it better! I’m counting on you not to fuck this up. And, David, whatever you do – do not let her near the vet. I’ve got to go.’

  ‘What about the vet?’

  But Jojo had ended the call. David looked at his watch. He was already going to be late for the office, what difference did it make if he was late or really late? He jogged back to the house, out of breath by the time he reached the front door and struggled for his keys.