by Caragh Bell
Suze waved enthusiastically as she walked past. ‘Have a nice day!’ she called.
Lydia grimaced. Her day couldn’t get much worse.
She plastered a smile on her face. ‘Thanks, Suze!’ she called, waving. Oh, how she wished that she could take a magic potion and sleep for two days! Then she could wake up and it would all be over. He would be married and there would be no ambiguity anymore.
The amount of times over the past week she had started a message and deleted it. The amount of times she had come close to ringing him up and begging him to come to her. Then an image of a baby would float into her head and all her hopes and desires would disappear.
The physical pain of their separation was terrible, but she knew it would lessen. Time would heal everything; she would soon forget.
Luca downed his glass of champagne and grimaced. It was too fizzy to gulp, but he didn’t care. He needed to get drunk and fast.
The bar in the Four Seasons was filled with family and friends, many of whom had travelled from Europe. Frank du Maurier was gesticulating loudly to a group of Parisian cousins and Victoria was nodding demurely to Christian. He scanned the room. Not one person interested him. Even Tyler was bugging him – he kept asking him to rethink marrying Charlotte. He kept messing with his head. He didn’t understand that he had been dumped, that the girl he had given his heart to twice had destroyed him.
Craig and Samantha walked into the bar, hand in hand. They both looked relaxed and happy; each one tanned and healthy from their honeymoon in Italy. He grabbed another flute of champagne from a passing waiter and knocked it back. Glancing to his left, he could see that Charlotte was too busy sweet-talking some judge to care what he was up to.
Getting to his feet somewhat unsteadily, he made a beeline for Samantha. She was standing alone by the ladies’ room as Craig had gone out to the foyer to take a call.
‘Hey, Mrs Dillon,’ he said, kissing her cheek. He waited for her reaction: it would tell him everything.
‘Luca!’ she gushed, giving him a hug. ‘It’s so good to see you. Thanks so much for being such an amazing best man!’ She beamed at him, her silver earrings dancing in the light.
She has no idea.
He smiled at her. ‘So you guys had a blast in Italy, huh?’
She nodded furiously. ‘It was so beautiful. When are you two heading off to Hawaii?’
‘Straight away,’ he answered mechanically.
Samantha sipped her drink and smiled. ‘You’ll have a great time there. Do you know Lydia’s sister, Sarah? She went there with Andy for their honeymoon.’
His stomach lurched at the sound of her name. Looking at Samantha, he was positive that she was unaware of what had happened; that much was plain.
‘That’s cool,’ he said eventually. ‘So, how is Lydia? What’s she been up to?’ He tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible. Maybe Sam would be able to shine some light on why she had left.
‘Oh, she’s in great form. We called over to her parents’ place last weekend and had champagne. She’s got a proper writing job at the magazine so she’s thrilled.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. So, she’s earning proper money now. Her dad is over the moon.’ She took another swig of champagne and waved at Tara across the room.
Luca pressed on as casually as possible. ‘So, is she going to get hitched to that French guy or what?’ He coughed. ‘I mean, I’d like to see her happy.’
Samantha shook her head. ‘Jesus, no. That’s all over. Mathis has joined a long list of ex-boyfriends, I’m afraid. Our Lydia has commitment issues, she can’t seem to settle down.’
‘You think?’
‘Oh, definitely. Before him there was Fabian – he fell in love with her, so she dumped him immediately. Before that? Lots of hunky French guys who asked too much of her. The bottom line is, she can’t handle being tied down.’ Suddenly she noticed his face. ‘Oh, how crass of me. I forgot about you two!’
‘It’s cool, it’s cool.’ He waved his arm nonchalantly. ‘That was like, a million years ago.’
‘Yeah.’ Sam bit her lip awkwardly. ‘Anyway, are you all set for tomorrow?’ she asked, changing the subject.
He nodded briefly before backing away. ‘I’ve got to use the men’s room. Tell Craig I’ll catch up with him later.’
Minutes later, he rested his head against the cool wall outside the main entrance. He could hear sirens and traffic; the lights that dotted the skyline were incessant and constant. The concierge smiled at him but he turned away.
Sam doesn’t know, he thought miserably. Lydia didn’t even tell her best friend …
It was the confirmation he needed. Any faint hope of reconciliation was gone. For one crazy moment, he had contemplated running away to Ireland, finding her and forcing her to admit her true feelings.
He was glad he had seen sense now.
She had no interest in him or anything he had to offer. For some reason he had freaked her out and she had bolted. Just like all the other poor schmucks that had shared her bed.
It was over.
Chapter 49
Mimi fixed his tie. Her eyes shone with tears as she brushed some fluff from his shoulder.
‘You are ready,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘You look wonderful.’
He stared at their reflection in the mirror on his bedroom wall. He cut a dashing figure in his morning suit, his broad shoulders and tall frame dressed top to toe in grey.
Mimi wore a pink suit and a tiny pink hat. She looked like a miniature version of Jackie Kennedy, demure and classy.
They were due to leave in five minutes; Jacques was already outside waiting with the Bentley.
‘You will be vairy ’appy,’ she said soothingly. ‘I am sure of eet.’
He nodded coldly. ‘I sure will.’
‘Then we should go.’
He leant down and kissed her head. ‘Je t’aime, Mimi, je t’aime.’
She rubbed his cheek. ‘I love you too.’
He stood up straight and walked out of the room, his face set in a determined line.
Mimi held back, wiping her eyes with a silk handkerchief. Tara appeared in the doorway, looking stunning in a green chiffon dress and an enormous hat.
‘Are you okay, Mimi?’ she asked.
‘I am fine,’ she muttered, dabbing her eyes once more. ‘I cannot believe our leetle boy ees getting married.’
Tara was by her side in a flash. ‘You’ll be okay, Mimi,’ she consoled her. ‘He won’t ever be too far away.
‘You are right,’ agreed Mimi. ‘You should be vairy proud of your son.’
‘He’s as much yours as he is mine,’ admitted Tara. She leaned down and kissed her soft cheek. ‘You go on. I’ll meet you at the car.’
The old lady vacated the room and left her alone.
She needed to gather her composure. Her little boy was getting married. He was about to become a man. She hoped his marriage would be happier than her own; she wished him the best in his new life. She would be lying if she didn’t admit that she was worried. He was a different Luca since that girl had run off. He had no interest in anything; he just agreed with what was asked of him. His eyes seemed dead to her. The spark she loved so much seemed to have gone out.
Christian had assured her that it was the stress of the wedding. He scoffed at the idea that Luca was pining for that Irish girl. He didn’t see things like she did; he lacked sensitivity and did not entertain the notion that his son might be hurting. He was just relieved, delighted that all had gone back to the way it was.
Tara let the room and closed the door. Jacques would be waiting. It was showtime.
Val placed the steaming mug of tea on the bedside locker.
‘Drink this, Lyd,’ he advised. ‘You’ll feel better.’
She smiled in gratification. ‘You’re an angel,’ she croaked. ‘My throat is killing me from getting sick all night.’
‘Just try and rest,’ he said, pulling the curtains. ‘I
’ll check on you later.’
The door shut quietly and she drifted in and out of consciousness. Every now and then, she’d reach for a sip of tea. She thought she heard Colin come home, but it she wasn’t sure. She had no concept of time.
She imagined Luca standing at the top of the aisle. She could see a radiant Charlotte gliding up towards him, smiling beatifically at her guests. Sam and Craig would be there, clapping and cheering. She could see Mimi nodding politely, too refined to show too much emotion but with a tear in her eye. She wished them all the happiness in the world; they deserved it. They were bringing a baby into the world. Soon they would be a family.
She wondered how Charlotte had broken the news. Had Luca been delighted? Of course. Did it change everything? Without a doubt.
She sniffed miserably. Life had dealt her a cruel blow but she had to survive. She had done the right thing; she could find solace in that.
The Bentley pulled up outside the church. Luca could see Tyler waiting at the door, his hair gelled back and his tie fixed up to his neck. He felt dazed; it certainly didn’t feel like how he imagined it would be. There was no excitement; there was no fear. Just a strange sense of apathy that he couldn’t seem to shake. He just wanted it all to be over so he could get on with his life.
He was too old to fool himself into thinking that he was over her. Every second thought he had was of her. He couldn’t believe that she had left; he couldn’t comprehend that she had betrayed him like that.
Even her friends could see that she was unable to sustain relationships. That hurt him the most. The letter had appeared out of leftfield; it had been a total shock. He found it hard to process the fact that the Lydia he had held in his arms a few hours before could callously get up and leave in the middle of the night. She had planned to take off and didn’t have the decency to tell him to his face. He tried to hate her but he was too exhausted. He was numb; his trust in human nature had been destroyed and he yearned to forget.
‘Hey, buddy,’ said Tyler, pumping his hand vigorously. ‘Are you nervous?’
Luca shook his head. ‘I’m cool,’ he answered blandly. ‘It’s all cool.’
They walked into the church and smiled at guests as they made their way to the top of the aisle. Mimi smiled encouragingly, as did Tara and Christian. His mother looked beautiful as usual; her fiery red hair fell in waves around her face and her floaty green dress was flattering.
The du Mauriers were seated on the opposite side. Victoria smiled in his direction, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The string quartet was playing ‘Spring’ by Vivaldi. Hugo du Maurier was ushering people to their seats.
Luca sighed in relief. His little slip had been kept a secret; no one had been told. Only Charlotte’s parents knew from her side. Frank had been suitably furious when he met him during the week but who could blame him? He had messed around with his little girl. He didn’t blame the man for raging at him; for ranting on and on about how lucky he was to even get near her. He sat and took the threats, the ultimatums that if anything like that ever happened again he would disappear.
He just nodded and apologised, like a robot programmed to please. Frank had calmed down but it was obvious that things would never be the same between them. How could they? Trust had been compromised; there was no going back.
Lydia leaned her head against the cool tiled wall. The entire contents of her stomach now lay in the toilet bowl.
Gastro. How typical.
The only upside of her illness was that she didn’t have time to dwell on Luca. She was too busy staying alive.
‘Lyd?’ Colin’s voice resonated through the toilet door. ‘Can I get you anything?’
She coughed. ‘No, Col. I’m okay.’
‘Will I call a doctor?’
‘Not at all! I’ll be out soon.’
She forced herself to move. The world seemed to be spinning. Her head felt hot and her tummy was heaving.
Colin gasped when she emerged. ‘OMG, you look awful!’
She smiled weakly. ‘Thanks a million.’
‘Let me help you back to bed.’ He took her arm and let her lean on him as they trudged down the hallway. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ he said seriously.
‘I’ll be fine. It’s probably a twenty-four hour thing.’
‘Still and all, call me.’ He pulled back her covers and helped her lie down. ‘I’ve never seen you look worse.’
‘I get that,’ she said glaring at him. ‘It’s a bug. That’s how it goes.’
He turned off the light and shut the door. She lay in silence, fighting the urge to vomit. She hadn’t been sick in so long, it was a weird feeling. Slowly, exhaustion took over and she drifted off to sleep.
‘Do you, Luca, take Charlotte to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?’
Luca paused. He stared down at her beautiful face, smiling up at him. The congregation waited expectantly, as this was the most important part of the service.
‘I do.’ He let out a deep breath.
She relaxed a little and squeezed his hand.
‘And do you, Charlotte, take Luca to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?’
‘I do,’ she said without hesitation.
Céline du Maurier squealed in delight. Tyler winked at her suggestively.
The rings were exchanged. Luca felt the gold band slide onto his finger and his throat constricted. She giggled as he struggled to insert her finger into the diamond-encrusted ring she had chosen.
‘Let me help you,’ she whispered, shoving it over her knuckle. ‘I guess my fingers are swollen because I’m nervous.’
He couldn’t even smile. It was all too fast.
‘Now I pronounce you man and wife.’
The guests got to their feet and clapped loudly.
‘You may kiss the bride,’ added the priest, winking.
Luca bent his head and kissed her cool lips. She smelled of pineapple. He guessed that it was her lip gloss. He felt a wave of nausea. He sure as hell didn’t expect his wedding to feel like this.
Charlotte didn’t seem to notice. She was waving wildly and blowing kisses at her family. It was all over; they were married. All her diets and controlled living had paid off; her dress clung to her, accentuating her tiny waist. She looked incredible.
‘Can you turn this way for a few shots, please?’ asked the photographer, his camera poised.
Luca nodded wearily. ‘Whatever you say, buddy. Whatever you say.’
Chapter 50
Colin paced the kitchen the next morning. Val watched him, an amused expression on his face.
‘Check on her again if you’re so worried,’ he suggested.
‘She looks like death. I’m going to ring South Doc.’
Val looked dubious. ‘I’m pretty sure it won’t get past the nurse.’
‘It’s Sunday, Val. What else am I supposed to do?’ Colin pulled out his phone. ‘She’s not a bit better. In fact, I think she’s worse.’
He dialled the number of the out-of-hours medical service. ‘Auntie Hel would do the same thing. I mean, I’m in loco parentis up here,’ he fretted, waiting for the triage nurse to answer.
Val rolled his eyes.
‘Oh, hi,’ Colin said into the phone. ‘My cousin is very sick. I think she has food poisoning or something. She can’t stop getting sick. Dehydrated? Yes. She can’t keep anything down. No, no food since Friday morning. Can she come in? I suppose. Two o’clock? Okay, I’ll bring her myself. We’re on the Western Road. Okay, I’ll do that. Thank you.’
‘You are such an old woman,’ said Val. ‘Such a worrier.’
‘She’d die under your care,’ accused Colin. ‘I think it’s the right thing to do.’
He stalked off and knocked on Lydia’s door. ‘Lyd?’
‘Come in,’ she croaked.
He opened the door to find her sitting up in bed, looking deathly pale.
‘You look terrible,’ he observed, shocked. ‘Would you like some water?’
‘No!’ She held her hand up. ‘No water. No fluids at all.’ She clutched her tummy. ‘I have never felt worse.’
‘I booked us a doctor’s appointment for two o’clock. Do you think you can make it to the surgery?’
She baulked. ‘God, I don’t know. I feel really weak.’
‘Let’s see how you are later. If you’re not worse, Val and myself will help out to the Audi. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t puke in my car though.’
She groaned and moved sideways. ‘I have zero energy, Col. I feel like I’m at sea.’
‘We’ll get you some pills for that, don’t worry.’
‘I won’t be able to keep them down!’
‘Suppositories?’ Colin grinned.
She giggled and then winced. ‘Don’t make me laugh or I’ll make you administer them.’
He made a face. ‘I’ll force Val to do the honours.’
