Marrying Mr Valentine

by Laura Barnard

  Mum rolls her eyes. ‘Well, she’s getting married in half an hour. I don’t expect for this to fix itself in that time. Honestly, Nadine. I would have thought you’d have remembered that.’

  ‘This isn’t my fault,’ I protest, my lip curling up in rage. ‘If you want to blame something then blame the flatbread.’

  She sighs. ‘Well, us bickering isn’t helping anyone. Let’s get her a coffee and then into her wedding dress.’

  ‘Oh, is someone getting married?’ Lydia asks. ‘I’m getting married too!’

  Jesus, fuck.

  Forty minutes later and she’s somehow in her wedding dress, ready to walk down the aisle. She’s still high as a kite, but we have no other alternative. Dad’s been warned to help her stand up. It’s either this or cancel the wedding and that just isn’t an option.

  I take a deep breath and walk down the aisle ahead of her in my sky-blue bridesmaid dress, smiling politely at all of the friends and family. I know what they’re thinking; I see the sympathy in their eyes. Poor Nadine. It must be hard for her to see her younger sister get married. And after everything she’s been through.

  When I reach Jason, I pretend to kiss his cheek, but instead whisper in his ear ‘She’s fine, just go with it.’

  He stares back at me with raised eyebrows. I don’t have a chance to say anything further, just stand to the side and watch Lydia and my dad walk down the aisle to the traditional wedding march.

  She’s smiling, all dopey happy, stumbling every few steps. Luckily, dad has a firm grip of her, so she doesn’t go down. I wonder if she looks normal to everyone else that’s none the wiser. Or maybe just a bit pissed from champagne.

  She finally stands in front of Jason, handed over by my dad.

  She giggles. ‘Hey, sexy,’ she whispers to Jason. I take her bouquet from her, warning her with my eyes.

  The registrar starts talking as Lydia sways on her feet. Jason is watching her in confusion. He leans in and whispers ‘Are you drunk?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she giggles. ‘Just been eating pineapples.’ She snorts. ‘Did you know when I was younger I thought pineapples were pine cones with apples? How dumb was I?’

  ‘Sssh.’ I hiss at her, looking round to see if anyone has noticed.

  ‘If anyone objects, let them speak now or forever hold their peace,’ the officiant declares with a confident smile.

  Please, don’t let her say anything stupid.

  I keep quiet, praying to God no one makes a sound. Always a tense time at a wedding.

  ‘I object!’ Lydia shouts with a giggle. ‘I’m too young and sexy to be getting married.’

  Oh, dear Lord.

  A few awkward laughs echo around the room.

  ‘Only joking,’ she says with a snort laugh. She sounds like bloody Peppa Pig.

  ‘Right,’ the officiant says, clearly at a loss. ‘I’ll continue then.’

  Lydia gets through the wedding, and by the time the speeches happen she’s slowly getting back in touch with reality. Hopefully by the end she’ll be completely her normal self. I do my brief speech and raise my glass of champagne to toast the happy couple, glad we pulled it off.

  ‘Woo!’ Lydia says, with her glass in the air as everyone cheers. ‘And he’s hung like a fucking donkey.’

  Dear Lord.

  Sunday 21st January

  Today I’ve decided to meet up with my friend Amy. I met her through SANDS, a charity to help women that have had stillborn babies. We’d both lost babies around the same time and we formed such a strong bond that it would be weird to ever lose touch.

  Just knowing there’s someone that’s been through the same thing as me, is such a relief. Don’t get me wrong, Flo and the girls, were fantastic, but they don’t know the pain. Until you do it’s impossible to appreciate.

  I knew in advance, with it being Lydia’s wedding yesterday, that I’d be feeling low. I was right. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy for her. But there is a part of me—deep, deep down—that is kind of giddy happy that she was high on gas and air and therefore didn’t get her perfect wedding. See, I’m a bitch. This is why bad stuff happens to me.

  Amy chats to me, not just about depressing stuff, but about new things in our lives. She seems to have such a great support system from her husband, Gary. That’s something I’m severely lacking. In a strange way I actually feel more depressed now than I did at the beginning.

  I hug her goodbye and leave the warm cafe to walk into the bitter-cold high street, wrapping my coat extra tight around my waist. Sometimes I really wish I had a man. Not to have them piss all over the toilet seat or pick up their smelly socks, but the rare moments where you can just lay together and be comforted by their mere presence.

  ‘Nadine?’

  I look up to find Hartley walking towards me in a stunningly sophisticated dark grey wool coat.

  ‘I thought it was you,’ he says on a smile.

  ‘Oh, hey. You alright?’ I even sound sad, deflated. My bones suddenly ache from exhaustion, the thought of putting on a fake happy face too much for me right now.

  ‘Yeah, just getting a few groceries,’ he says cheerfully. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Just catching up with a friend.’

  I’m ready to turn and leave, but it’s at that exact moment I see my ex, Joshua, over his shoulder walking towards us. Oh my God. This is a fucking disaster.

  ‘Quick! Hide me!’ I panic, looking from left to right. I could run back into the cafe, but that’s window fronted so there’s still the chance he’d notice me. I can’t walk into traffic. ‘Agh!’

  ‘Err...’

  He must think I’m mental.

  In a last-ditch attempt at hiding I grab the sides of his coat and try to hide underneath them, pushing my face against his chest.

  Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.

  ‘Nadine?’

  Well fuck-a-doodle-doo. He’s seen me after all.

  I wince my eyes shut, horrified that I’m going to have to face this humiliation head on. I pull my head back out of Hartley’s poor chest to see his bewildered face. He must think I’m unstable. Correction, madder than he originally thought I was.

  I turn to where the voice came from. Joshua looks back at me, a friendly smile making his face look as beautiful as the day I first met him. How is that fair? Why couldn’t he have aged terribly? Instead his fair hair seems thicker, his eyes kinder.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, my voice barely audible.

  ‘Wow, it’s been what? Three years?’

  ‘Has it?’ I screech, my voice now so high I’m sure only dogs can hear it.

  He nods. ‘Must have been. I heard you’re planning weddings now. That must be hard. You know, seeing all of those happy couples.’

  Did he really just say that? Talk about adding salt to the wound, pouring in petrol and then setting it on fire. He dumped me. At the one time in my life when I needed him.

  ‘I enjoy it, actually.’ I wanted it to come out as strong, defiant, but instead I sound like a church mouse. Damn it.

  ‘Who’s your friend?’ he asks, nodding towards Hartley whose jacket I still have in my hands.

  I look up at him, completely dumbfounded by the situation. I open my mouth to speak, but it’s like nothing will come out. Instead I just stare at him, eyes widened in panic.

  Hartley leans forward and shakes Joshua’s hand confidently. ‘Hartley Valentine. Good to meet you.’

  Joshua looks between us, obviously intrigued as to why I’m spending my time with such a gorgeous man. Don’t get me wrong, Joshua is gorgeous, but nothing compared to Hartley.

  ‘And...’ Joshua says, rocking on his heels. ‘Do you two know each other well?’

  I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry.

  ‘I should hope so,’ Hartley chuckles, wrapping his arm around my waist. What now? What is he doing? ‘She’s marrying me.’

  My mouth drops open of its own accord. He must mean that I’m marrying him and Clara. But then why
does he have his arm draped intimately around my waist? Could it be he’s pretending to save me from my obvious embarrassment?

  ‘Wow,’ Joshua says, completely taken aback.

  Alright, there’s no need to be that shocked. He might be gorgeous, but I resent the fact that he thinks I couldn’t pull someone this fit if I wanted to. I’m not bloody ugly. I’m just not looking for someone. Anyone. Well, I wasn’t until the gorgeous Hartley came along and reminded me how to feel.

  ‘Wow,’ Joshua says again. ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Hartley gushes, pulling me closer. ‘We’re over the moon.’ He looks back down at me adoringly. I just about manage to stare back at him with my mouth shut.

  Joshua looks behind us. ‘Ah, here comes my wife.’

  It’s no surprise to me. I heard they got married within a year of him leaving me. Yes, it was devastating to hear about him moving on so easily, but I’ve gotten over it. He deserves to be happy too.

  I turn my head to see a gorgeous brunette walking towards us. Well, waddling. She looks about eight months pregnant. Oh my God.

  ‘Ariana, this is Nadine,’ he says. ‘And her fiancé, Hartley.’

  Ariana’s eyes widen. ‘Oh wow. That’s great news. And obviously you can see ours,’ she laughs, pointing to her bump.

  He’s having another baby. I know it shouldn’t, but it hurts. It hurts like a bitch. If Belle hadn’t died would we still be together? Would we be married? Planning a second baby? Tears prick at my eyes, but I shake my head, praying to God my tear ducts will pull themselves together.

  ‘Anyway,’ Hartley says, ‘we must get going. Nice to see you.’

  He takes my hand and drags me away. I move as if on autopilot, my legs moving but my mind elsewhere. We walk down the street in silence for a while until he pulls me into a small alleyway between shops.

  He leans me against the wall and takes my face in his freezing cold hands. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me doing that.’

  I shake my head, still unable to form words.

  ‘It’s just that I could tell he was your ex, and a total douche nugget.’

  I laugh, despite my depression. ‘Douche nugget? I can honestly say that’s the first time I’ve heard that.’

  He grins. ‘Remember I’m around teenagers all day. You pick up the slang.’

  I smile, glad he’s been able to pull me out of my funk through his choice of ridiculous insults.

  ‘Tell me, did Fetch ever happen?’ I ask, thinking about my favourite teenage movie, Mean Girls. I’m sure he won’t get the reference.

  He frowns, suddenly serious. ‘No, Nadine. Fetch is never going to happen,’ he grins.

  Wow, he gets my Mean Girls reference. He’s a keeper. For Clara, obviously. She’s like the Regina George of this story.

  ‘I saw you freak out when you saw her pregnant. I’m assuming that was a shock?’

  I nod. ‘Yeah, I just… I hadn’t heard is all.’ I shake my head, needing to get out of here. I can’t have him interrogating me and finding out anything about my past. ‘Anyway, I really need to go.’

  I turn to leave, but he pulls softly on my arm. I look back to him, his face solemn.

  ‘Nadine, I know we’re not even really friends, but I’m here, you know. If you ever want to talk.’

  Great, the guy thinks I’m suicidal.

  I nod, and then scurry off as quickly as I can.

  Chapter Ten

  Monday 22nd January

  I’m still feeling low today and mortified whenever I think of Hartley seeing me like that, at my lowest, but I have to keep wearing a fake smile as I have Clara’s make up trial with Florence. I feel strangely like a slut whenever I look at Clara, knowing just yesterday her fiancé was pretending to be mine.

  ‘Now,’ Clara, says halting Flo, ‘I want to know what products you plan on using. I have highly sensitive skin. I can only use MAC.’

  Of course, Princess Clara has sensitive skin. I’m sure she only uses products made with unicorn tears and elf droppings.

  Flo grimaces a smile. ‘Luckily for you, I have a wide range of MAC products. Now, what were you thinking about for your wedding look?’

  She grabs the mirror, any excuse to look at herself. ‘I want full on glamour. I’m thinking dark smoky eyes and a blood red lip.’

  ‘Okay,’ Flo nods, giving me the quickest of glances. Only I can tell from it that she means to call Clara a high-maintenance whore.

  She does her make-up, the whole time with Clara complaining that Florence wasn’t putting on enough make-up/too much make-up/spending too much time/not enough time.

  ‘Good luck planning her wedding,’ Flo snorts as soon as she’s left. ‘That’s one high-maintenance bitch.’

  I blow out a held-in breath. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘And to think we’re cousins-in-law. If that’s how she treats me, imagine a normal make-up artist!’

  I snort out a laugh.

  ‘What’s Hartley like?’ she asks, starting to pack away her kit. ‘He must be a saint to put up with her.’

  ‘He bloody well is! I know you didn’t get a chance to chat at the food tasting, what with you vomiting everywhere.’ I stop to smirk quickly. ‘But surely you’ve chatted before at some family function of Hugh’s?’

  ‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘We don’t have much to do with them to be honest. I’m sure you can see why.’

  ‘Hartley’s a bit of an idiot really. I don’t think he even wants to marry her. Did you know that she proposed to him?’

  Her eyes nearly bulge out of her sockets. ‘She did not! That’s so embarrassing.’

  ‘Alright,’ I snap, feeling slightly bad for her. ‘Not all men propose to us on our first date,’ I joke, reminding her how lucky she was to have found Hugh. Their engagement story still makes me laugh. They got engaged on their first date.

  ‘Still,’ she muses, ‘I’d rather die than propose myself.’

  I think about the position Clara’s put him in. That’s why the guys are supposed to propose. They’re the ones that are so scared of commitment.

  ‘Yeah. I do feel sorry for him.’

  Flo’s eyes become inquisitive. ‘Why are you blushing?’

  ‘Huh?’ I’m not, am I? I touch my cheeks, they do feel a bit hot.

  ‘You’re so blushing. Do you... fancy him or something?’ she asks, a grin playing on her lips.

  Oh no, she’s onto me.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I snort. ‘He’s getting married.’

  She scoffs. ‘Yeah, to someone you just said he doesn’t really want to marry.’

  ‘Well, that doesn’t matter,’ I insist, crossing my arms over my chest. ‘I’m their wedding planner. It’s my job to get them down the aisle without a hitch. End of story.’

  ‘Okay,’ she shrugs with a knowing smile. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Don’t have Hugh hear you saying that. He says we’ve got to take special care of this couple.’

  ‘Really?’ she frowns. ‘Why?’

  Uh-oh. I’m assuming she doesn’t know about Clara’s father lending Hugh money. I don’t want to get him in trouble and have her worrying. Especially in her condition.

  ‘Oh, just because... she’s his cousin.’

  She snorts. ‘Whatever. I’m just glad they’re not close enough that we have to eat Sunday dinner with them. I’ve got to know her more today than I have all year.’

  ‘I’m sure she’s nice deep down.’

  She giggles. ‘Deep, deep down. Anyway, I have some exciting news.’

  ‘Really?’

  She beams at me, suddenly full of excitement. She goes into her purse and hands over a piece of paper to me. I look down to see a baby scan. No way!

  ‘You had a scan?’ I blurt out.

  ‘Yep!’ she squeals. ‘Only ten weeks, but they’ve assured me that everything is looking good.’

  I throw my arms around her and squeeze tight. ‘I can’t believe you and Hugh are having a baby. It’s so weird
when you see it in the scan.’

  Her eyes mist over, completely overwhelmed. ‘I can’t believe it either. It feels so real now. Are you sure you’re okay about it?’

  I frown, bewildered. I still feel so bad that she even has to consider whether I’d be happy for her.

  ‘Of course, I’m okay about it.’ I rub her arm with affection. ‘You’re my best friend and you’re having a baby. I’m so happy for you guys and no past grief will ever affect that.’

  ‘You sure?’ she checks, pulling me into a weird kind of side hug.

  ‘Of course. Do I miss Belle?’ Jeez, just saying her name causes physical pain to my heart. ‘Of course, but she’s sent down a little angel for my bestie. I can’t wait to meet them.’

  Her eyes mist over. ‘I love you. We were hoping you’ll be godmother, if all goes well, of course.’

  That nearly makes me cry, my throat clogging up. ‘Of course, I will. And don’t be thinking like that, everything will be perfect. I promise.’

  Heartbreak can’t strike twice, right?

  Tuesday 23rd January

  I hold Anna’s hand as she lies on the bed, the nurse squirting the jelly onto her stomach. It feels so weird to think my bestie was here only a few days ago. I look down at Anna’s stomach. She has no bump whatsoever so far. I bet she’s not even taking prenatal vitamins.

  ‘I really need a pee,’ she whines, her face scrunched up in an attempt to hold it in.

  ‘I know,’ I nod with a smile. ‘It’s all that water you’ve drunk.’

  ‘Right,’ the nurse says, putting the wand onto her stomach, making Anna flinch. ‘Let’s have a look at baby.’

  I really didn’t think it would be so difficult coming today, but the whole thing is just reminding me about Belle and the excitement I felt while carrying her in my stomach. It’s funny, but I wasn’t nervous at my first scan. And just as predicted everything went well. Nobody was to know what would happen.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Anna asks, already the anxious mother.

  ‘It’s all looking fine,’ the nurse nods back cheerily. ‘From this I’d make your due date 7th August.’