by O. J. Lowe
“Scorn and contempt go a long way, Mum. It inevitably breeds threefold. You can only put so much in before you start to reap what you have sown. And you have sown so damn much over the years. You know why I went out and spent your credits like they were going out of fashion? I didn’t have to be at home and talk to you! I can see why Uncle Coll walked out on the family because I don’t want to live like this.”
“Your uncle betrayed the family. He didn’t believe. He sided with the enemy! He nearly killed me.”
“And a shame he didn’t succeed!” All of it was coming out now, years of anger and resentment leaking out. And with it came the tears billowing for her eyes, she knew she probably looked horrible for it, but she didn’t care. This… The chance to tell her mum exactly what she thought of her was perhaps the best wedding present she could have asked for and one that she didn’t expect to have fallen into her lap. Someone up there loved her. Mentally she thanked Gilgarus for the opportunity. “If Uncle Coll wanted to kill you, he probably had the right idea. I get the feeling things would have been better if he’d succeeded.”
Her laugh was bitter with resentment. “Meredith, you’re a silly little bitch. Things wouldn’t have been better if your uncle had killed me. They would have stayed exactly the fucking same. Nothing would have changed. People with only the faintest hint of authority would have carried on telling us what to do with only a fleeting knowledge of the consequences of what they preach. I always tried to teach you that. Every action has a consequence. One day, you’re going to regret what happened here.”
“And one day, you’re going to regret how you treated me my entire fucking life! I hope it’s a really pointed way, like involving me having to make the choice to switch off your life support! I’m not sure what’ll take up the other fifty-nine seconds I’d have to make that decision!”
“That hurts me.” She didn’t look very upset. Even now she was trying to go for the guilt, fondle switches that had grown rusty from a lack of turning. “Regret has a funny way of sneaking up on you. If that’s the way you feel, then I’ll leave. Enjoy your day.”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” She turned back to her vanity, half expected to feel Domis grab her up. How long since anyone had spoken to Claudia Coppinger like that? She felt, well alive. Equal parts exhilarated and terrified, her entire body aflame with glee and shock. Had she just done that? Emancipated herself from her past? Set herself royally up for the future? She’d burned the bridges at long last. She’d never walk across them again, why not make sure she couldn’t.
Part of the reason she always wondered if her mother hadn’t liked Lydia was because of her irrational fixation on the idea that someone would only marry her for the credits. They loved each other. The proposal had been mutual. Lydia had always insisted the credits didn’t matter. Wasn’t like she was a pauper to start with. Lydia Dupree was a talented spirit dancer, not quite top bracket like a Selena Stanton wherever she may be or a Mia Arnholt or even a Harvey Rocastle, as much as a pariah as he was these days, but definitely the next level down. It was where they’d met, after all.
“There you have it, Uncle Coll,” Meredith said. “She was here, but not now. I doubt I’ll ever see her again. I hope I don’t.”
He surprised her at that point, reached out and hugged her tight. His vest felt scratchy against her face, the logo pressed against her cheek. “Sorry, Merry. I know you and Claudia always had a tricky relationship.”
“You know the sun’s quite hot as well, don’t you? If we’re making understatements about our relations with her.”
Uncle Coll grinned at her, the sum total of the expression leading to more affection shown in four seconds than her mother had in the last fifteen years. “True, very true. I never was entirely happy with the idea of her bringing a child into the world. But, your mother, if nothing else always was quite stubborn.”
“You keep making these understatements, Unc.”
“I walked away from the family, because I didn’t want to be sucked into it. I didn’t want to be a cog in a giant machine, I wanted to be my own man. I always understood you felt the same way. She didn’t like that, in part it’s probably my fault as much as hers. Probably thought you’d make the same choices I did. I’m sorry for that.”
He reached up to his earpiece. “Everyone, she’s not here. Stand down. Make sure you make your apologies to the guests. This is a wedding after all.” His attention was back on her. “I am very sorry about this, Merry. We got a tip she was here…”
Meredith snorted. “It was probably her that called it in, one final shot at me. She’d love doing this, a chance to disrupt my day.”
Uncle Coll shrugged. “To that, I cannot comment. It’s a very brave thing you did, finally standing up to your mother. If it took the threat of the credits being withdrawn to make you rise onto your own two feet, then we should have declared war on her long ago. Take it from me, Merry, credits aren’t everything. Wealth brings its own problems, insolvency brings its own freedoms.”
“I haven’t told her yet,” Meredith admitted. “Lydia. Unc, I just got married and became broke on the same day…”
“No different from most other weddings in my experience there.” The grin on his face as he said it made her smile, despite the situation. “But I know what you mean, Merry. If she loves you, it’ll not matter. If she was just marrying you for the credits, now’s probably the best time to find out.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Your mother’s a very cynical woman. Unreasonably so sometimes whereas I like to believe the best in people and I want to tell you that every little thing is going to be okay.” He hesitated, smiled at her. “I know I wasn’t invited, but I’d like to meet her. I know we’ve not really had much to do with each other. Most of my encounters with you were when you’re a child.” She must have looked surprised at that for he smiled at her. “I walked away from the family business, I always wanted to keep in touch with your mother. She is my sister after all. I didn’t agree with her having you, I think despite everything you’re a sensible young woman. You know what you want, and you stuck to it. You didn’t get sucked into being what she wanted to be. Mothers being disappointed in daughters is the oldest story in the world. We’re Coppingers, we took it to the next level naturally.”
He tilted his head, fiddled with his earpiece. “Excuse me one moment.” He toyed some more, authority filled his voice. “I said stand down and withdraw! I’ll meet back up with you later, for my report. I’m going to interview the bride… What do you mean, which one? Coppinger’s daughter, you wanker! Dupree’s not important to the investigation!”
“Won’t you get into trouble for this?” she asked. The comment didn’t bother her. Ever since she’d come out, it hadn’t been the worst thing ever said to her. She’d just always known that she’d liked girls. Never really had to think too hard about it. She knew what she liked, and she went for it. “Isn’t it a dereliction of duty?”
Uncle Coll smiled at her. “At the moment, I’m in a pretty strong bargaining position. They’re wanting me to build a psychological profile of your mother. Can’t see them getting too upset with me. Besides, in their eyes this constitutes an interview.”
“And in your eyes.”
“It’s a reunion with a niece I wish I’d gotten the chance to know more over the years. Merry, I know that I can’t change the past, but if you or your new wife ever need anything, I want to tell you that you can come to me and I’ll do my best to help you.” He tapped the Unisco logo on his vest. “I’ve got some friends in high places as you can see. If she ever gets back in touch with you, give me a call. Wouldn’t you like to be the one responsible for her arrest?”
It was on the tip of her lips to say she’d love to be the one responsible for her being killed resisting arrest. That might not have gone down too well. Whatever else she might be, her mother was still his sister. Interests had to be conflicted at the very least.
“Me
rry Coppinger, right?”
She looked up, heard the voice and was drawn to it. So alluringly musical, it hinted at a synchronicity of naughtiness and innocence. The face that the lips belonged to wasn’t harsh to look at either, she could have stared at it all day. Given the chance, she might do, although drooling might not be the best thing this early on.
“Huh?”
Inwardly, she congratulated herself. Way to make a first impression, knobhead. Embarrass yourself in front of the stunner. Want to drool over yourself while you’re at it.
“Sorry, is it Merry or Mary?”
She didn’t compete under Meredith. Too formal. Only her mother called her that now. Everyone else. Merry. The name had stuck. Besides, it was unusual. Although this divine creature wasn’t the first to ask her if it really was Mary. Lots of spirit dancers had unusual stage names. Merry wasn’t so unusual.
“Merry on stage,” she said, before giving her a smile she hoped was somewhat alluring. Not that she was holding out much hope. Not a chance a woman who looked like her was… Well, single for a start, never mind interested in her. “Meredith to, well, my mum.” Why are you talking about your mother to her? She wanted to shake her own head, run off and curl up into a ball, moaning to herself at her complete failure at charm.
That spotlight behind her didn’t help with the effect, lighting her profile up like she was a gift from the Divines. Brown-blonde hair cut short against caramel coloured skin, a nose so button like she wanted to feel it go through one of her holes, preferably while her tongue was going to work on the other one. Those lips looked so wicked, hinted at so much and she’d loved to have taken said hint.
“Let me guess,” she said, unable to stop herself in time. “You’re here to tempt me, aren’t you?”
She cocked that wonderful face to the side, Meredith allowed herself that chance to break the gaze, inadvertently trailing her eyes down that body. Everything she knew she wanted to handle and more. A little moan escaped her, she felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Not a chance this vision hadn’t noticed what she was doing. Whether she had, or she hadn’t, she was too polite to mention it and for that Meredith was relieved. Maybe she hadn’t noticed it. A girl could dream, right? Aspirations of not being completely humiliated in front of your newest crush were the sort of goals that always sounded attainable, yet she always came up so short on.
“Tempt you?” She sounded surprised. “Maybe you have me mixed for someone else.”
“Dear Divines, there’s someone else walking around who looks like you? And here I thought my legs were about to give way as it was.” Shut up, shut up, shut up! You can’t flirt to save your life. If her cheeks had burned before, they were scalding now. Someone somewhere was going to be able to cook eggs on her face. Felt like everyone else in the changing room was stopping to look at the two of them. They wanted to see her make a complete and utter arse of herself. She knew it was ridiculous. That was how it felt. There were too many people in here, all of them had better things to do than look at one of the newbies. They had their own problems to deal with.
Yet, as she brought herself to meet the vision’s eyes, she could see more than a hint of red underneath them. Terrific. She wasn’t only embarrassing herself, she was making the first person to give her a friendly word since she’d gotten here uncomfortable. A friendly face was hard to find in the world of spirit dancing, people were out for themselves. Most of them would stab you in the back for a few extra points from the judges.
“As much as I’d like to follow that up with a clever comment,” she said, offering her a hand. “I’d have started by saying hello. Lydia Dupree.”
Meredith shook the offered hand, tried to keep her face in some semblance of neutrality. If she kept her mouth shut as much as possible, she couldn’t put a high heeled foot in it. Somewhere at the other end of the room, she could hear the fat man in the green jacket laughing like a probed hyaena. He was one of the favourites for the competition, her opponent in the first round and to say the confidence was leaking out of her with every passing second. He’d already fired the first verbal volley at her as she’d walked in, found a few weak spots and hammered away at her with delight.
“Hi, Lydia Dupree,” she eventually managed. “What can I do for you? Other than make you feel massively uncomfortable?” Her foot was edging dangerously close to her mouth again. The sound of laughter slipping from her was a little reassuring. Good, make her laugh. She can’t walk off in disgust if she’s laughing like that. Divines, I hope that’s joy.
“Just wanted to offer you something.”
She was up on the edge of her seat immediately, she hadn’t known her body could unconsciously react that quickly. “Yes?”
“Advice. Rocastle. Ignore him. If you let him get to you, you’ve already lost. He’s the master of finding a tiny thread in your psyche and pulling it until you fall apart. His game only looks good because he has a habit of making his opponents crack under the mind-games.” She smiled at her. She’d known then that she was in love. “In short. Ignore the giant bullying prick and give him a kick in the balls! Best thing you can do to deal with him.”
“Thanks,” she’d said. “I guess. But, why are you telling me this?” It seemed like a reasonable question to ask.
Lydia winked at her, she felt her legs threaten to give again, the warmth flooding through her.
“Well,” she said, the smile only growing. “You’re not the worst looking woman ever to walk in here. And we could all use a friendly voice in our corner sometimes. We come into this world alone, doesn’t mean we have to walk through it that way.”
“Do you ever regret it? Leaving the family and changing your name?”
He looked at her with bemusement, before slowly shaking his head. “Some things I regret. That I don’t. Anyway, I never changed my name. Not officially. I just competed under the name Connor Caldwell. I didn’t want to be associated with the name Coppinger on a professional level. I was always him, just when I stepped onto the battlefield, I wanted to be someone else for a while. Anyway, like anything, if people start to know you under a certain name, then that name sticks after a while. I mean, someone asked me why I started to affect a Southern Premesoir accent for a bit…”
“Didn’t you spend a lot of time around there?”
“Hells, I always wanted to do that. Work down there, wrangle cows and bulls and other sort of livestock. Always thought it looked like a great life. You pick the accent up after a while. It was eye-opening. Loved every second of it. Eventually, I got picked up by a local Unisco recruiter, asked if I was interested.”
“I bet Mum was surprised when you pulled the blaster on her and announced that.”
Uncle Coll laughed. “Merry, if looks could kill, it’s unlikely that I would be here talking to you. I graduated as a specialist in undercover operations and covert intelligence. Not an easy path. I was always okay at the hand-to-hand stuff, I mean after wrangling a one-tonne bull, what’s someone who weighs a fraction of that realistically going to do to me? Never enjoyed the violent stuff though. When your mother got back in touch and showed me everything she’d done, my first instinct was to report everything immediately. I held back, not out of any great love that I had for her, but out of necessity. Revealing my hand early could have been disastrous.”
She smiled at him. “Are you really allowed to tell me all this?” It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear, but she found it fascinating. “Isn’t it classified.”
“Merry, my dear, nothing about what your mother has done is going to remain classified for very long. If she wins, she’ll be shouting her own version of history from the rooftops. If we win, the story will come out, so we can prove our own superiority. You might as well hear the truth before someone else decides what that means.”
He held the door for her, she could see her bride across the other side of the room, Lydia never looked so beautiful as when she was angry and now she was furious.
“Besides, Mrs Dupree
,” Uncle Coll said with an almost fatherly grin. “I have a feeling you’re not going to be wanting to play up your relationship with your mother for the times ahead. You made the right choice I feel there, taking her name.”
“I didn’t do it for that,” Meredith said. “Despite what Mum always thought, I don’t tailor my life to go out and spite her.”
“She always was self-absorbed like that,” Uncle Coll smiled. “Don’t spend your life trying to please others, Merry Dupree. Make yourself happy and if it’s meant to be, that happiness will extend to others.”
“Merry Dupree, huh?” She tried it out in her mind, said it aloud and smiled at the thought. “Think I like that, Uncle Coll.”
He gripped her hand as they approached her bride. Her new wife. The ceremony had been everything that she’d ever wanted, an extravaganza best described as the forte of the disgustingly wealthy. If you had it, you might as well flaunt it. That was the attitude of most spirit dancers she’d ever met, the sort that she wanted to be. The wealth wasn’t hers, never had been and it never would be again. That thought might have been something that horrified her in the past, chilled her to the very bone at the idea of everything she’d ever known being cut away from her.
She didn’t feel that way seeing Lydia’s smile, everything felt like it was meant to be right. If she’d known a feeling like this existed before, she’d never experienced it. Elation was a natural wedding day experience, right?
Even the look Lydia gave Uncle Coll wasn’t enough to sour it. Fury and beauty. Without one, the other could not flourish. They’d worn similar dresses, off-white cream with scarlet sashes from right shoulder to waist, the other shoulder bare, the skirts long and flowing, down to the ankles. To complement her dress, she’d added a white lace choker around her neck, thoughts already in her mind about what would be happening once they went upstairs to consummate their union.
