Dream Wedding

by Helen Brooks

  She had promised Barbara a few days before that she would try and make the church for the actual ceremony, and was more than a little touched when Barbara swept into the kitchens at just after nine to remind her of the fact.

  'You look lovely, just lovely.' She hastily ushered Reece's sister out of the chaos in the kitchen, fearing for her dress, and into the big hall where most of the family were assembling, awaiting the fleet of cars that were to take them to the church. Craig had already left an hour or so earlier with Donnie, his best man, on Barbara's explicit instructions. She had been terrified he would see her before the ceremony, convinced it was bad luck.

  'Do you think so?' Barbara's face was pale under the carefully applied make-up, her eyes anxious. 'Miriam, he's so much younger than me. What if he has second thoughts, or takes one look at me and bolts?'

  'Don't be so ridiculous.' Miriam was going to smile, thinking that Barbara was half-joking, but then she saw the tremulous mouth and fear in the lovely grey eyes. 'You look beautiful, Barbara, absolutely beautiful, but even if you didn't it wouldn't make any difference to Craig.' She stepped back a pace to admire the calf-length, wildly expensive, crushed silk dress in pale apricot, with its tiny matching hat and veil. 'He loves you; you're the only one for him, so just enjoy the day.'

  'Good advice.' She forced herself to show no reaction whatsoever as Reece's deep voice sounded over her shoulder, and counted to ten before she nerved herself to turn and face him. He looked wonderful—she had known that he would—resplendent in top hat and tails in smoky grey, the cut of the material accentuating his broad shoulders and muscled frame and causing the breath to catch in her throat. 'Barbara tells me you're coming to the church,' he said quietly as his eyes wandered over her flushed face and tousled hair. 'Is that right?'

  'Yes.' She was instantly on the defensive. 'I'm going to change in just a minute,' she added quickly, suspecting that he disapproved of the casual trousers and blouse that she was wearing.

  'I was just going to say there are several trays of buttonholes in the hall if you would like to help yourself to one as you leave,' he answered mildly, before turning away to speak to one of Craig's numerous relations and leaving her to give her best wishes to Barbara.

  She hurried back to the kitchens to explain that she was slipping away for an hour, only to get embroiled in one panic after another. The church service was at ten and the family left at half past nine, at which point she fled into the flat and threw the dress and coat she had put by for the morning onto her hot, sticky frame.

  Both Barbara and Reece had insisted that she could use Barbara's neat little sports car over the weekend, but after last night she couldn't bring herself to drive it and trundled off to the church a few miles away in the large van that Mitch had driven that morning. There were no parking spaces within a hundred-yard radius of the church and she had just emerged from the van, hot and flustered after persuading it into a space that just fitted, when a coolly amused female voice sounded just behind her.

  'Hello again…' She turned slowly, her instinct rather than her ears telling her whom the voice belonged to. Sharon was standing to one side of an imperious Mercedes which her parents were just leaving, her silver-blonde hair coiled into an elegant chignon on which a tiny little green hat nestled, her tall, slim body clothed in an exquisitely cut, close-fitting green suit of the same hue, enhancing the big emerald eyes into dark pools. 'Miriam, isn't it?'

  'Yes. Good morning.' As she spoke she smiled and nodded at Sharon's parents, who inclined their heads coldly, their faces plainly stating that they found it extraordinary that their precious daughter was talking to someone who had just emerged from a somewhat dirty old van.

  'You're going to the church?' Sharon's voice held just the right note of surprised disapproval, and as the chilly gaze moved slowly, and pointedly, over Miriam's clothes Miriam's chin rose a few notches in answer to the unspoken insult. 'I mean, you must have masses to do,' Sharon drawled sweetly as she began to walk away, linking her arm in that of her father's.

  There had been no need of a reply, and as Miriam locked the van's door she found that she was grinding her teeth together in impotent rage. It doesn't matter— she doesn't matter, she told herself firmly as she followed quickly in the Berkely-Smiths' footsteps, fearing she would be late. She was just behind them as they began to walk up the long, winding path to the church door and quite able to hear their conversation, spoken as it was in a loud, cultured drawl. 'But, darling,' Sharon's mother was saying as her ridiculously flowered hat bobbed precariously on the back of her obviously dyed chestnut hair, 'what would give the girl the idea she could come to the wedding if she's just one of the caterers?'

  'I don't know.' Sharon's voice was irritated and tight. 'But that is exactly what she is, I can assure you. One of Reece's temporary employees. But you know how some of these people are, Mummy…' And somehow, instantly, Miriam knew that Sharon was aware of her just behind them. 'Give them an inch and they take a mile. Reece was complaining about it only the other day.'

  'Well, something ought to be done…'

  As they disappeared into the small, arched porch of the old medieval church Miriam stood stock-still on the path, her heart pounding with the shock of the bitterly barbed words. How could people be like that? She stared after them into the shadowed porch beyond which the lighted church glowed brightly. So spiteful, so malicious?

  She glanced down at her best coat, which had cost her far more than she had been able to afford a few months before. OK, so it wasn't an exclusive with a four-number price-tag, but it wasn't exactly a bit of rag either.

  She shut her eyes tightly and then set her mouth in a grim line as hot rage replaced the hurt and surprise. And she didn't believe for a moment that Reece would have discussed her with Sharon, although that was what the blonde girl had been insinuating. He wouldn't. He just wouldn't. Would he? She bit her lip hard and then gathered all her courage around her as she marched into the cold church.

  'Bride or groom?' A young, bright-eyed usher was at her side instantly as he handed her an order of service.

  'Bride.' Once seated between an elderly couple on her right, who smelt of lavender and country cottages, and a cool-eyed businesswoman on her left, who she just knew was a lawyer friend of Barbara's, Miriam took stock. She would wait until Barbara had arrived and then slip quietly out of the church at some point during the service; seated as she was at the back of the church, it would be no problem. And she wasn't running away. She quelled the little voice in the back of her mind with fierce determination. She needed to get back to the house; she had a million things to do, that was all.

  As the Bridal March brought a hushed silence to the subdued chattering she took a deep breath and composed herself, her glance drawn helplessly to Reece as he escorted his sister down the aisle. She couldn't bear this; she really couldn't.

  As she glanced through the throng to his tall, straight figure in sombre grey, Barbara like a lovely bird of paradise on his arm, she bit back the tears with superhuman effort. Would he ever marry? She saw the back of his head through a mist of emotion as they continued to the front of the flower-bedecked church. And if so what would she be like? A contained, cucumber-cool blonde? A sultry brunette? Or maybe a redhead like herself? And would the future Mrs Vance know that he didn't love her, that he thought himself incapable of love, or would she be able to penetrate that hard outer shell to the real man within, whom she herself had glimpsed once or twice?

  She looked down as the minister began to speak, searching her bag for a tissue and wiping her eyes carefully. It was all right. Everyone cried at weddings. As the service continued she fought for control.

  And then, almost against her will, her glance was drawn once more to the front of the church as she searched him out. She saw his dark head instantly, and also the blonde-haired one beside it, complete with little green hat, and Sharon's parents cosily seated in the pew directly behind them. The perfect family picture, in fact, and one of un
deniable intent in the circumstances?

  Even as she watched, Sharon whispered something in Reece's ear, her profile strikingly lovely even at that distance, and as Reece bent to listen Miriam saw Sharon deposit a swift kiss on his smooth, tanned cheek.

  Well, what had she expected? She closed her eyes, wishing that she were anywhere but in this church at this precise moment. For Sharon to leave her parents and join him in the front row meant far, far more than mere seating arrangements. As the choir led the congregation in the first hymn she slipped out silently into the cold white world outside, her mind and emotions going into a deep freeze as icy as the air around her.

  By twelve o'clock midday everything was ready for the expected guests and bridal party, and as Miriam and Mitch took a few minutes out to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee in the flat away from the others Miriam caught her brother looking at her with a distinctly worried gleam in his eye. 'OK,' he said flatly, after a few minutes of total silence. 'Let's have it; what's wrong?'

  'Wrong?' She forced a brittle smile. 'I don't know what you mean.'

  'It's him, isn't it?' Mitch eyed her grimly. 'I knew it. Has he made a pass or something?'

  'Mitch, I really don't think—'

  'You haven't said a word in five minutes, which is a record for you,' Mitch said quietly. 'Now, I'm your brother, Mim, and I love you. At the very least you could give me a clue about what's going on.'

  She opened her mouth to deny everything but instead found herself confiding in Mitch in a way she hadn't done since they were children. 'So that's it,' she said flatly as she came to the end of the monologue. 'End of story. Not that there ever was one really.'

  Mitch swore a particularly virulent oath that made her wince as her eyes fastened on his angry face. 'I knew I should have taken this job.'

  'I wish you had.' The ice encasing her heart had begun to melt as she had spoken, and for the first time since seeing Reece and Sharon together in the church hot anger began to seep into the crevices.

  From the very beginning Reece had thought that he could dictate all the rules, she thought furiously, even going so far as to set them out in cold, clinical detail before she had even said that she was interested. The sheer ego of the man! And the self-obsession. However he dressed it up, he had warned her of the consequences of getting involved with him while making play after play for her, and all the while sweet little Sharon had been there in the background for when he tired of the game. Well, enough was enough.

  She turned to Mitch, who had been watching the play of emotions across her expressive face with both apprehension and interest. 'But you didn't,' she continued tightly, 'and we've got a job to do, and then we can get the hell out of here and never have to speak to Reece Vance again.'

  'Will you?' Mitch caught her arm as she stood up. 'Leave and shake the dust off, so to speak?'

  'I already have.' She gazed at him for a long moment and then walked back to the kitchens, her back straight. She would get through the rest of this day with her head held high and then pick up the pieces of her shattered heart later. She'd have all the time in the world, after all.

  Once the guests arrived the rest of the afternoon became a blur of frenzied activity. Barbara came straight to the kitchens to seek Miriam out, her lovely face radiant. 'I want you to have this.' She placed her wedding bouquet of white and apricot roses into Miriam's arms. 'I didn't throw it,' she added unnecessarily, 'although Sharon was hovering like some demented bluebottle.'

  At the sound of the other woman's name the tears that had threatened to fall at Barbara's kindness dried instantly. 'It's beautiful.' Miriam bent and sniffed the softly curled blooms. 'And it smells wonderful.'

  'You've made my day, Miriam.' Barbara's eyes were full of happy, sparkling tears, but strangely Miriam suddenly felt as though she would never be able to cry again in the whole of her life. 'You've worked so hard.'

  'It's my job.' She softened the words with a smile and a hug, but as Barbara left to join the guests in the big hall she stared after her expressionlessly. That was all it was—a job. Just a job. Suddenly the difference between Reece's world and her own had never been greater.

  The buffet was kept well-stocked all day, and with four waiters to ensure that no one had an empty glass the merriment was high by evening. She avoided Reece all afternoon, which wasn't too difficult—Sharon was attached like a limpet to his arm, and if Miriam hadn't known better she would have sworn that the elegant blonde was the hostess as she smiled and chatted with gracious composure at his side.

  Miriam was just replacing an empty tray of cold meats with a full one when she felt a cool tap on her shoulder and turned to look straight into hard green eyes a few inches away from her own. 'Still working like a little beaver?' Sharon laughed patronisingly. 'It makes me absolutely exhausted just to watch you attending to all our needs.'

  'Does it?' Steady, Miriam, steady, she warned herself as a whole host of hot words sprang onto her tongue. If Sharon wanted to cast herself in the role of lady of the manor then that was up to her—and Reece. She only had to stand the other woman a few more hours after all, and she just wasn't worth jeopardising their reference for. 'Well, an event like this doesn't just run itself,'

  Miriam said coolly, her face straight. 'It takes a lot of planning and a great deal of hard work.'

  'Oh, I can see that.' Sharon's barracuda-type smile faded as she slanted her lovely green eyes to accompany a disdainful pout. 'But don't you find it all so boring? I'd just die if I had to cook all day; I'm afraid I can't boil an egg.'

  'Really?' Miriam signalled for Vera to take some dirty plates into the kitchen. 'Well, neither can Barbara, so you're in good company,' she said politely as she tried to edge away.

  'But Barbara's got Craig now, and I understand he's divine in the kitchen,' Sharon drawled slowly. 'What Reece and I shall do heaven only knows; thank goodness for Mrs Goode.' She smiled coldly. 'We shall have to take her with us when we holiday abroad.'

  The message was clear and Miriam knew that her shock had registered on her face as the other woman's smile widened with satisfaction.

  'But we'll remember your little firm for the reception, sweetie…' Sharon tapped her arm condescendingly. 'Good workers are so hard to find these days. Reece often complains about that very thing; he's such an old crosspatch at times but I can usually find some way to…console him.'

  'You'll have to excuse me.' Miriam looked straight into the lovely face, not bothering to try and hide her disdain for the innuendo and double talk as her lip curled slightly. 'This particular worker has things to do.'

  She walked away steadily, her back straight and her head high, but once in the outside corridor she turned into the privacy of the flat, collapsing with her back against the door as she fought silently for control. So they were lovers? So what was new? She had known, hadn't she? And the reference to their marriage, the sly insinuation about the reception…?

  'I don't believe it…' She heard her whisper in the empty room with a sudden surge of self-contempt What did it matter what she believed? Reece certainly didn't care one way or the other, and she was blowed if she was going to skulk in here like a small, frightened rabbit. She would do what she had determined to do—get through this day and then go on from there, although where to she didn't have a clue.

  She drew a deep breath, brushed back a few wisps of hair that had come adrift from the tidy pony-tail at the back of her head, and smoothed down the neat blue dress that they had decided on as a uniform for the female staff when a function was on. There was a strange sour taste in her mouth and a dead weight where her heart should have been but she was damned if she would ever let him know how much he had hurt her. She'd get through this with some dignity if it killed her.

  She pulled open the door and stepped smartly into the corridor outside, only to bump headlong into Dannie, who looked as though he was loitering outside.

  'Oh, hi.' The friendly grin was the last thing she needed at this moment, she thought helplessly as she
forced her frozen mouth to respond in kind. 'I've been looking for you,' he said quickly. 'You've been like a will-o'-the-wisp today—here one minute and gone the next.'

  'Lost, Donnie?' The cool, deep voice from the end doorway brought both their heads jerking round, and Miriam saw that Reece's face was cold and expressionless as he stared their way, leaning lazily against the open doorway as the silver eyes flicked tightly over Donnie's startled face.

  'Not exactly.' Craig's brother laughed nervously as he moved away from Miriam. 'Just wanted a word with this little lady, here.'

  'I'd rather you didn't.' Now the dark voice was positively icy. 'This is Barbara's big day and I've paid a fortune to have the caterers catering; know what I mean?'

  It was insulting, both to her and the big Australian, and she saw Donnie stiffen slightly as his eyes evaluated Reece's powerful frame and massive shoulders before he seemed to concede defeat.

  'No problem.' He smiled again but it didn't reach the blue eyes. 'I'll go and grab myself another beer; that's one thing I do like about this freezing-cold country— the beer.'

  Reece didn't reply verbally or by so much as the flicker of an eyelash, and after another long, embarrassing moment Donnie sauntered towards him, edging past without looking at him and entering the noise beyond.

  'That was incredibly rude.' She faced him angrily, her cheeks glowing bright scarlet and her eyes flashing. 'There was absolutely no need to behave like that.'

  'This is my house, Miriam; I behave exactly as I want to,' he said icily. 'Now, can you organise your people to start clearing away, please? I intend to have the fireworks in an hour or so, and after that the fruit and champagne, of course. Keep your mind on what you are being paid to do rather than flirting with my guests.'

  He shut the door before she had a chance to reply, which was just as well because even she didn't know that she knew some of the words she muttered furiously after him.