Regrets

by Caragh Bell

  Luca squeezed her tightly. ‘You’ll look hot no matter what.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m going for ‘hot’ but I suppose I should be flattered.’ She kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘My dress is too conservative for that.’

  Tyler sighed. ‘Pity,’ he murmured under his breath and Luca glared at him. Charlotte wouldn’t appreciate his flippancy.

  ‘So, do you guys want to get some food?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to shower and then we could grab a salad or something?’

  ‘Sure, honey. You got it.’ Luca sipped his pint. ‘I’ll have some meat though, okay? I need my strength for tomorrow.’

  ‘You got that right,’ agreed Tyler. ‘All that standing around? You’ll be wiped.’

  Charlotte retreated out the door. ‘Later,’ she called.

  ‘Later, Char!’ Tyler waved enthusiastically.

  She forced a smile and walked away.

  ‘She hates when you call her that,’ chided Luca, half-laughing. ‘If you want to win her over, you’ve got to cut that out.’

  ‘She either likes me for me, or forget it. I ain’t changing for nobody.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that, buddy.’ Luca drained his pint. ‘Let’s order two more before she comes back.’

  Chapter 28

  Helen flicked the TV channel, turning off MTV.

  ‘I want to relax, Molly,’ she asserted before her daughter had a chance to protest. ‘Go and listen to your iPod.’

  Colin opened a box of chocolates and offered them one.

  ‘Come on, girls. Go wild,’ he encouraged. ‘You two don’t have a dress to fit into like Sam and Lydia.’

  Helen took a chocolate and popped it into her mouth. ‘So, are things serious with the French boy?’

  Colin shrugged. ‘Who knows? He’s clearly mad about her but you wouldn’t know with Lydia.’

  ‘He’s very like Dominic in looks, isn’t he?’

  Colin stopped short. ‘Now that you say it…’ He gasped. ‘You’re right! They could be twins. How did I not see it before?’

  Molly giggled. ‘That is so weird. Do you think she realises it herself?’

  ‘No way. She’d probably dump him if she did.’ He chewed thoughtfully on a toffee. ‘Maybe she has a type then. Maybe she’s destined to have brown-haired babies.’

  ‘As long as they’re not blond,’ finished Helen. ‘I hope she stays away from that Luca.’

  ‘Now, now, Auntie Hel. He’s not that bad. You better be on your best behaviour tomorrow. He’ll be everywhere you go.’

  Helen sighed. ‘I know. She’ll be close by. That’s what I’m afraid of.’

  Molly snorted. ‘He’s getting married, Mum. There’s no hope of anything happening. Just chill out.’

  The front door banged shut and Ollie walked in. His tall frame filled the doorway as he removed his anorak.

  ‘Hi, all. I’m sorry we’re so late.’

  Helen swallowed her chocolate hurriedly and jumped to her feet. ‘Ollie! Darling! Come here and give me a hug. I kept some dinner for you.’

  He wrapped his arms around his mother and squeezed her tightly.

  Colin beckoned to the small, dark-haired girl behind him. Ollie was head and shoulders over her in height. Her long brown hair was plaited and she wore a pretty yellow sundress.

  ‘Hi, Alannah,’ he greeted warmly. ‘Do you want a chocolate?’

  She declined politely and turned to smile at Molly. ‘Your hair is so nice,’ she observed. ‘Did you cut it?’

  Molly fingered her curls. ‘Yeah, I did. Just a trim. How sweet of you to notice.’

  Ollie sauntered into the kitchen. ‘Did you mention that there’s some grub kept for me?’ Helen scurried after him chattering incessantly.

  Alannah perched herself on the edge of the couch. Molly pressed ‘mute’ on the TV and turned to the new arrival. ‘So, what are you wearing tomorrow?’ she asked.

  ‘A red dress with a black shawl. It’s one I wore to my brother’s wedding last year.’

  Molly nodded approvingly. ‘I think I saw photos of that. I’m sticking to a green cocktail dress that Sarah let me borrow.’

  ‘It doesn’t fit her anymore,’ whispered Colin. ‘Babies! They’re never worth it.’

  Molly punched him playfully on the arm. ‘You’re so bad.’

  ‘Alannah!’ called Ollie from the kitchen. ‘Dinner is reheated and ready to serve.’

  She got to her feet. ‘Talk to you later,’ she said, smiling.

  Colin watched her leave.

  ‘She must be a saint to put up with Ollie,’ he pondered, settling himself back on the couch. ‘She’s so refined and quiet – he’s so…’

  ‘Hey!’ Molly raised her fist threateningly. ‘I’m the only one who can insult Ollie. Cut it out.’

  ‘He’s my cousin…’

  ‘Still and all, Colin. I’m loyal, you know.’

  He threw up his arms in defeat. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll lay off.’

  ‘Good.’ She grabbed the box of chocolates and scanned its contents. ‘Who ate all the strawberry creams?’ she wailed. ‘No one ever picks them.’

  ‘See you later,’ said Colin whistling. ‘I’m just trying to find Lyd.’

  ‘Colin!’ she yelled. ‘Get back here!’

  ‘Adios!’ He blew her a kiss and scampered away.

  Samantha gazed at her Jeff Buckley poster on the wall. It had been hanging there since her indie music craze as a teenager. She trailed her finger along the Enid Blyton books on her shelf. The doll’s house her dad had made for her eighth birthday still stood in the corner of her bedroom, functioning now as a makeshift clothes horse. It was like her bedroom was trapped in a time warp; a primary resource of her childhood and adolescence. She felt a lump in her throat. Tomorrow she would say goodbye to all of that forever. Tomorrow would be a new beginning; the start of her adult life.

  Sure, she had been living with Craig for a while now. It’s not like she was leaving the family home for the first time. Yet she did feel that emotionally a chapter of her life was closing. She would have a ring on her finger that would symbolise her union with Craig; her parents would no longer be her next of kin. It was a big step.

  She lay back on her bed and closed her eyes.

  Was she excited? Of course.

  Was she nervous? Absolutely.

  She willed the time to pass. The hairdresser was due at eight a.m. Then it was on to the make-up and then the dress. She hugged herself in delight. She couldn’t wait to swish around in her gown. She had been dreaming of it for months. Her mother had packed her off to bed early, but she was too wired to sleep. She wondered if Craig was the same. Was he as contemplative as she was? She found it hard to imagine him lying on his bed, reminiscing on his childhood. He was probably drinking a can of beer and watching a game.

  She screwed her eyes shut.

  Please fall asleep! Please…

  Mathis poured himself another glass of wine. Lydia refused a refill. She didn’t want to be bleary-eyed in the morning. She had promised Samantha faithfully that she would go to bed early, but that plan had fallen by the wayside. After Ollie and Alannah’s arrival, Val had turned up. Cue a bottle of wine and a few beers being produced by Seán Kelly. Two hours later, they were arguing about football and empty cans and bottles lay strewn on the coffee table.

  Her thoughts drifted inevitably to Luca. She wondered if he was getting his beauty sleep as instructed. He had a bigger role than her in the proceedings; he had to make a speech. She didn’t doubt that he would rise to the challenge without any problems. He just oozed confidence.

  Idly, she wondered what Charlotte would wear. Something designer; no doubt. She would look fabulous; there was no question about that.

  She sighed. Why was life so complicated? Here she was, snuggled up on the couch with a gorgeous guy who was clearly mad about her, and all she could fantasise about was Luca. The very man who had offered her everything all those years ago. Why did she reject him? Why did she let him go?r />
  Colin raised his arms in a ‘shushing’ movement. ‘Ahem, attention all. I think it’s time for a bit of entertainment.’

  Molly butted in immediately. ‘I hereby decree a ban on karaoke in this house!’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ shouted Seán.

  Colin looked affronted. ‘What is wrong with my singing?’

  Helen patted his arm. ‘Nothing, love. It’s just very late to be so noisy.’

  ‘I was taking advantage of Baby Seán’s absence,’ he replied haughtily.

  Lydia’s phone buzzed and her heart jumped. Hastily, she got to her feet and pretended to go into the kitchen for some water. With bated breath, she unlocked her screen. It was a message from Joe at the office.

  Try not to trip going up the aisle. Want photo asap. Ciao.

  Her disappointment faded as Joe always made her smile. She replied, telling him that she was sober and off to bed; she insisted that she would be in great shape for the wedding.

  Mathis sidled up behind her, making her jump.

  ‘Ça va?’ he asked, his brown eyes wary. ‘You act bizarre.’

  Lydia plastered a smile on her face. ‘All’s fine. Absolutely fine.’

  ‘We ’ave not made sex in a long time, Leed. I no understand.’

  She reddened. ‘It’s just because we’re here, in my parents’ house. I find that weird.’

  ‘We ’ave just arrived,’ he argued. ‘What about at Colin’s apartment? You find that weird too?’ He looked hurt.

  ‘No, no.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘I’ve just been busy at work and stressed about the wedding.’

  ‘You are sure?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she lied. ‘I’m going to bed soon but you stay up and chat if you like. I need my beauty sleep.’

  ‘You are already belle, Leed,’ he said seriously. ‘I want you to know zees.’

  She kissed him on the lips. ‘Don’t wake me when you come up.’

  He watched her make her goodbyes with a heavy heart. She had been strange for days. It made him feel uneasy. He wanted so much more from her, but she kept pushing him away. Maybe coming to the wedding was a mistake. Maybe he should go back to Paris and wait for her to come back to him.

  He frowned. He wasn’t sure that she would try.

  Chapter 29

  The wedding day dawned bright and sunny. Lydia’s alarm went off at seven thirty and she groaned.

  Just a quick snooze, she thought sleepily, pushing her pillow into a more comfortable position.

  Two minutes later Samantha rang, the ringtone pulsating through the room. Lydia jumped sky high and dropped the phone in her haste to silence it.

  ‘Get up, Kelly,’ her friend ordered. ‘I know you’re still in bed.’

  Lydia groaned. ‘You know me too well,’ she moaned, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

  Mathis pulled a pillow over his head and ignored her. He had a head after all the wine and needed to sleep it off.

  Lydia trudged down the stairs to the kitchen to find Colin there frying bacon.

  ‘Sam rang you, I take it,’ he said, tipping the rashers onto a plate. ‘If that didn’t work, I was going to jump on your bed.’

  ‘Mathis would have loved that,’ she answered flippantly.

  ‘I certainly would have enjoyed it.’ Colin grinned. ‘Sit down and eat something. You’re facing a long day.’

  She glanced at the crisp bacon sizzling on the plate. It didn’t look remotely appealing.

  ‘I’ll pass, Col. I think I’ll have some muesli.’ She opened the cereal cupboard and pulled out a box. She was due to be in Sam’s by eight which gave her no time at all to get organised.

  A sudden realisation dawned and her stomach somersaulted. She was going to see Luca today. A smile spread across her face. They would be together for photos and for signing the register. Now that they were friends, it could all be good fun. She would put her feelings for him aside and try to have a good time. This was Sam’s day; she was not going to put her problems in the forefront.

  ‘Are you coming over to Sam’s?’ she enquired, munching on her muesli.

  Colin nodded furiously. ‘Of course! I need to monitor that hairdresser. We don’t want a disaster, darling.’

  Luca fixed his tie and stared at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall of the hotel room. They had booked a room at Hayfield Manor, the hotel where the wedding was to be held. He hadn’t worn tails in a long time – not since his cousin’s wedding two years before.

  ‘Can you zip up my dress?’ Charlotte waited expectantly. Her blonde hair was tied in a loose bun and her pale-blue dress floated elegantly to her ankles. Its empire line cut accentuated her cleavage and her perfect ankles were strapped into silver heels.

  Luca brushed a tendril of hair from her face. ‘You look so great, baby,’ he murmured. ‘I love the colour.’

  ‘It reminds me of your eyes,’ she answered simply.

  He smiled. ‘You look awesome.’ He kissed her gently on the lips, luxuriating in their softness. She was so loving and good, so refined and sweet.

  ‘Will Ty be ready on time?’ she asked, putting gloss on her lips.

  ‘He said to meet him in the foyer at ten.’

  ‘We had better hurry, it’s nearly that already.’

  Mathis drank a glass of water thirstily. He had definitely overdone it the night before; he and Ollie had drunk two bottles of Cabernet by themselves.

  He studied Lydia’s bedroom. It was as messy as expected, with clothes strewn everywhere and books stacked in every available corner.

  He just couldn’t figure her out. She responded to him physically; there was no problem there. It was her head he couldn’t get into. She seemed emotionally stunted. He had tried all the romantic gestures like holding hands and buying her flowers, but all he had received was a sad smile and a half-hearted ‘Thank you’. She simply wasn’t interested in love.

  He was in love with her; he knew he was. He thought about her all the time and loved being close to her. Playing it cool had been hard, but he understood that pushing her would drive her away.

  She’d been so distant over the last few days. He’d felt her slipping away and it had made him nervous. She wasn’t eating properly and was so jumpy. He’d put it down to the wedding but now he wasn’t so sure.

  Reaching up, he pulled out a big book entitled A la Recherche du Temps Perdu by Marcel Proust. He remembered studying his work at school. Long narratives documenting his obsession with the past and something about madeleines.

  He flicked through the pages, put off by the small print and the big words. Suddenly he came across a folded sheet of paper; it was lying in the middle, slightly creased but in perfect condition. He opened it carefully. It was a perfect drawing of Lydia, naked and beautiful, lying on a bed. She was staring back at him unabashed and looked so sexy.

  He immediately felt guilty. She was entitled to have a past. He shouldn’t be snooping through her things; she would kill him. He was about to fold it again and put it back when he noticed a signature at the bottom. The name ‘Luca’ was scrawled in pencil, with ‘Paris’ underneath.

  He felt his skin grow cold.

  Luca? He knew only one Luca.

  Colin had mentioned that they were all in university together but not that there had been any history between them.

  He stared at the picture again in fascination. He had drawn her like a goddess; there was depth and emotion pouring out of the page. This was the work of someone who was in love with her. It was plain to see.

  He snapped the book shut.

  Lydia and Samantha stared at their reflection in the mirror. Sam’s veil flowed down her back, framing her face in a cloud of lace. Her full-length gown was made of silk, with a full skirt and a train. The bodice of the dress was fitted and there wasn’t an inch to spare. Her scooped neckline showed off her bronzed skin and a simple diamond solitaire necklace gleamed against it. Her dark eyes were painted with different shades of brown and her lips were a ligh
t russet red.

  Lydia’s dress was the same off-white colour and was silk as well; it had the same scooped neckline but instead of a full skirt it was figure-hugging and straight. It finished with a fishtail at the end. Her hair was wound up in a chignon at the base of her neck and her subtle make-up flattered her eyes and skin.

  ‘We’re gorgeous,’ said Samantha eventually. ‘Like a more fashionable version of our Holy Communion.’

  ‘Gorgeous,’ echoed Lydia. ‘I mean, we’re the real deal.’

  They stared at themselves for a minute longer, smiles forming on their faces. It was really happening. The Big Day had finally arrived.

  The photographer knocked on the bedroom door. He cleared his throat.

  ‘Are you ready for a few shots?’ he asked, his camera poised.

  The girls nodded. It was showtime.

  Colin checked his reflection for the twentieth time in the hall mirror of Lydia’s house. Helen and Seán had just left with Molly.

  ‘You look cracking,’ Laura assured him. ‘I love that shade of purple.’