by Melissa Hill
She had always laughed at those silly stories and films about that ‘special person’ out there for everyone, had always scoffed at Laura’s notion of a ‘better half’. But Dan was without doubt her better half – and a considerably better one at that. It sounded corny, and she wouldn’t dare say it loud, but her husband was a ‘good’ person by its absolute definition. Nicola had never come across a man like him and, if he had any bad traits, she didn’t know about them. He was an honest, gentle and loving person, always open about his feelings, and never afraid to express them – unlike some of her past boyfriends who were Neanderthals by comparison.
Nicola couldn’t help feeling afraid that maybe his parents were right. Perhaps Dan was way too good for her and one day, eventually, he might realise it.
She gave a mental shrug as she tried to suppress her unease. They had a wonderful relationship and their happiness had just been completed.
She really shouldn’t worry so much. Perhaps it was perfectly natural for a new mother to be having feelings like this.
Or maybe, Nicola thought, a slight grin on her face, just maybe she had done something wonderful in a past life, and was getting her rewards in this one.
* * *
Ken, who had a key to Nicola’s house, was waiting for her when she returned home that evening. As she pulled into the driveway, she saw Barney and him standing together in the doorway – the Labrador’s tail wagging so hard she thought there was a danger it might fall off.
“Well, how did it go?” Ken asked when they were inside, his expression completely unreadable.
Nicola grimaced and rubbed Barney’s glossy coat. “The only word I can think of at the moment to describe it is – strange.”
“Strange?”
“Yes. I don’t know what I had expected exactly, but he’s still the same old Dan.”
“But how did it go?” Ken repeated, an anxious edge to his tone. “I mean, what did you two talk about?”
Nicola sat back in her chair. “Well, seeing him face to face after all this time felt very odd – it was quite tense at the beginning. Still, after a while, I think we both began to relax. I’d imagine it was weird for Dan too.”
Ken’s facial muscles twitched slightly, but he said nothing.
“But somehow, it wasn’t the big deal I thought it would be. I mean, what could we say to one another? So much time had passed and –”
“Surely he must have at least asked how you were, and how you’ve coped these last few years?” Ken interjected. “Didn’t he say anything?”
She grimaced. “Well, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk, actually. The ice had been broken, we were laughing over something stupid and then, the fiancée rang.”
“Oh! And did she know he was meeting you?”
Nicola shook her head. “I don’t think so – he went shortly afterwards. But he showed me a photograph of her.”
“He what?”
She grinned at his reaction. “Yep, she’s blonde, petite, and obviously well off – a typical trade-in model, really.”
“Jeez, he showed you a picture of his new fiancée!” Ken was amazed at the cheek of him. He gave her a sideways glance. “And did it . . . did that bother you?”
“No, it didn’t.” There was a slight pause, and then she smiled. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Ken finally sat down beside her. “I wasn’t sure whether or not you wanted me here, considering. I mean, I haven’t been exactly supportive about your seeing him again and I didn’t know if you wanted some time alone after –”
“Look, I wouldn’t blame you for worrying, and, of course, I want you here.” Nicola looked at him. “Ken, as I told you before, my meeting Dan today wasn’t going to change anything between us. I love you – there’s never been any doubt about that.” She sat forward. “Actually, I think today really brought it all home to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well – and you might think this is silly – but when I pulled up in the car just now, and saw you and Barney at the doorway, I felt like . . . I don’t know . . . like I had come home, or something.”
Ken was smiling. “Are you sure you’re all right, Nicola? Nothing happened to you on the way back – like a blow to the head, or anything?”
“Stop laughing. You know what I mean,” she said lightly, pleased that he had relaxed a little. “Here I am, trying to be nice to you, and you start taking the piss!”
“You’re being nice to me now?” Ken said, eyes twinkling. “When did that change of heart come about?”
She fixed him with a hard glare.
“OK, OK, I’m sorry!” he said. “Go on with what you were saying – about ‘coming home’ and all that.”
“Ken . . .”
“No, seriously, go on.”
“Right Well, on my way home, I got to thinking about everything that had gone wrong between Dan and me, especially in the later stages, and I came to the conclusion . . .” she paused, and blushed a little, “I suppose I’ve always known that if it had been you I married – if you had been my husband at the time, then things would have turned out differently.” She felt him lightly squeeze her hand. “And then, turning into the driveway tonight and seeing you and Barney standing together like that, I felt a kind of –” she searched for the right word, “clarity, I suppose. Like I said before, I felt like I’d really come home and that this was exactly where I belonged – with you.”
Ken’s relief was palpable. “So, that’s it then?” he asked softly. “You and Dan – there’s nothing left between you now – no unfinished business, or anything?”
Nicola reached across and kissed him. “That’s it,” she said decisively.
Chapter 19
WAS THERE ANYTHING more mortifying than having to postpone a wedding? Chloe didn’t think so.
It had been so embarrassing having to ring each and every guest on the wedding list, explaining that their wedding would have to be postponed until early next year. She could almost sense the sniggers behind the masked sympathy. She’d never get over this.
Last week, and with only a month to go until the big day, Chloe had called the hotel to confirm the arrangements for their wedding on September 25th. She should have guessed that something was wrong when the receptionist first sounded confused, and then nervous, quickly promising that she would ‘check the arrangements and have someone phone back’.
Minutes later, the hotel manager phoned, and in smooth tones informed Chloe that yes, there was a wedding booked for September 25th – in the name of Collins/Moran. “I’ve examined our records, and it appears that a Fallon/Hunt wedding is scheduled at this hotel for September 25th next year.” He spoke slowly, as if Chloe was some kind of simpleton.
“No, no, that must be a mistake,” Chloe spoke quickly, her heart racing madly. “Our wedding was booked months ago. I signed the booking form myself.”
There was a slight shuffle at the other end of the phone. “Yes, I have the booking here in front of me,” the manager said. “Ms Fallon, next year’s date has indeed been entered here.”
“What?” Chloe tried to keep the shriek out of her voice. “What do you mean ‘next year’s date’? Surely I, of all people, should know when my own bloody wedding is happening! Why would I fill in next year’s date?”
“I’m sorry, Ms Fallon, but this is the information I have here. As I said, we already have another wedding for Friday 25th this year.”
“Well, we’ll see about that,” she said resolutely, before hanging up on the annoyingly placating manager.
That evening, after finally managing to trace Dan, who had been away at a meeting with some client or other, the two of them called to the hotel to personally examine the booking form. To Chloe’s absolute horror, she discovered that next year’s date had indeed been entered – and she had signed for it.
“I don’t believe it,” she said tearfully, putting a hand to her mouth. “How could I have done something so stupid? Why would I have don
e that? At the end of last year, I phoned specifically enquiring about 25th September, and the receptionist told me it was free.”
Then she recalled a recent conversation with the hotel about the flowers. There had been some confusion as to whether the 25th was a Thursday, or a Friday. She also remembered that the receptionist sounded a little bit strange on the phone. Probably wondering why anyone would be making arrangements for flowers a whole year in advance, Chloe thought glumly.
Damn! She should have realised then that something was up. Now some other couple would be celebrating their wedding here on her wedding day. How could this have happened?
“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Dan asked, frowning. “Maybe accommodate us in a conference room, or something?”
“What?” Chloe cut in before the hotel manager could answer. “I’m not holding my wedding reception – the most important day of my life – in some dingy conference room! No way, Dan! We’ll have the banquet hall, or nothing. That’s part of the bloody reason I chose this hotel in the first place!”
The hotel manager intervened. “Ms Fallon, Mr Hunt, unfortunately all our facilities are fully booked on the 25th. Obviously, you have additional arrangements made, and I’m sure you don’t want to wait another year –”
“We can’t wait another year!” Chloe said, gritting her teeth. “Everything’s arranged, the flowers, the cake, the invitations . . .” At this, she broke off, remembering the day she went to choose those bloody invitations – the same day she broke that car wing-mirror on Wicklow main street.
That was it! Chloe realised suddenly. All of this had to be her punishment – her seven years’ bad luck. First the mix-up with the invitations, then Dan’s ex coming back into his life – and now this!
“Well, maybe we could try and get a booking somewhere else –” Dan began.
“But where?” Chloe felt as though someone was twisting a knife in her heart. She couldn’t give up on this hotel, not when it was to be the pièce de résistance of the entire wedding. She wasn’t going to end up in some kip on her wedding day. No bloody way. It was the one thing that she wouldn’t – she couldn’t – compromise on at the beginning, when she and Dan were planning it. God knows she had fought long and hard enough to convince him.
“Everybody else just picks these ordinary run-of-the-mill hotels,” she had said at the time. “I want something different, something elegant, something –”
“Expensive,” Dan had finished with a groan, but eventually he agreed.
And now after all that, it seemed that Chloe wouldn’t be dancing her first dance as Mrs Hunt in these sumptuous surroundings. What had she done to deserve this?
“Dan, it’s only a few weeks to the wedding,” she said mournfully. “What chance do we have of getting anywhere at such short notice?”
He shrugged. “We hardly have much of a choice.”
No way. No way was Chloe going somewhere else. There had to be other possibilities. She turned to the hotel manager. “Don’t you have any other days free around that time – a Thursday or even a Monday?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms Fallon, but we’re completely booked for weddings almost up to the end of January.”
“January?” Chloe’s mind began to race overtime. A winter wedding! OK, she might have to rethink the dress, and instead of a veil possibly go for one of those Snow Queen cape-type thingys, but that wouldn’t be a problem. The flower arrangements would have to change, of course; orchids would die a quick death in January, but just imagine a winter bouquet with berries, and ivy and frosted apples and things!
“January would be perfect!” she announced happily.
“Chloe, hold on a second.” Dan pulled her to one side, out of the manager’s earshot.
“We should discuss this – what about all the arrangements?”
“What’s to discuss?” Chloe spoke quickly. “We can wait a little longer to get married, can’t we? I mean, we’re practically married as it is, and I’m sure everything else can be put off until a later date, the flowers, the photographer and all that.”
She was having visions of a snow-decked church as background to her wedding photos. And if there was no snow, Chloe was sure they could organise some fake stuff for the photographs – the church was only down the road from RTE, after all.
God, it would be gorgeous. And much more unique than any old run-of-the-mill, summer wedding. She didn’t know why she didn’t think of it before. OK, it was disappointing to have to wait that bit longer, but at least she wouldn’t have to spend her wedding night in some grotty hotel!
Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I have no problem waiting, but are you absolutely sure you don’t want to try somewhere else?”
“I want our reception in this hotel, Dan. If I have to wait a little longer, so be it, and it’s certainly better than having to wait a year.”
They’d have to check with the priest, but it was unlikely to be a problem, especially in January. The honeymoon would need to be rethought – they didn’t want to be in Thailand for the rainy season. Still, there was always the Caribbean. The only problem was . . .
“We’ll have to get the wedding invitations reprinted,” she said wearily, although she’d be damned if she’d give that Debbie one the satisfaction of knowing that something had to be changed. She remembered how condescending the designer had been on her visit to the Amazing Days store. “You just never know.” Now her words were coming back to haunt Chloe.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Dan turned to the manager. “If you could accommodate us in January, we’d be very grateful.”
The hotel manager smiled and spread the diary out in front of him. “Let me see . . . we have Friday 13th?”
Chloe looked horrified. “I really don’t think so.”
Turning the page, the manager tried to hide a grin. “Perhaps the following Friday?”
“That would be great.” Chloe’s heart soared as she watched him enter their names in a space beside Friday 20th January, next year.
A winter wedding. It would be just perfect.
In the meantime, though, they had to withdraw the blasted invitations to this year’s wedding.
Now Chloe looked over at Dan, who was busily engrossed in his newspaper. Even though he was as disappointed as she had been with their wedding being delayed, she still got the feeling that his mind was continually elsewhere. She wondered if he had ever got round to contacting that Nicola. With this latest uproar over the wedding, she herself had forgotten all about his troublesome ex.
“Dan?”
“Hmm?” he answered idly.
“Remember you said you were going to contact your ex – about your getting married again, and all that?”
He stiffened, and Chloe instantly knew that he had already been in contact with her. Why hadn’t he said anything?
“I spoke to her last week,” he said. “She’s fine about it.”
Chloe was instantly annoyed by this. Why shouldn’t she be fine about it? And so what if she wasn’t? They didn’t need her permission, did they?
“Did her friend – you know, the one with our invites, did she tell her about us?”
He nodded. “It didn’t seem to bother her, though – in fact she wished us well. I showed her a photograph of you. She thought you looked gorg –”
“What?” Chloe interjected, before he could finish the sentence. “You met with her – face to face?”
Dan reddened, and Chloe knew then that he had let that last comment slip out inadvertently. He hadn’t planned on telling her about his little rendezvous with Nicola at all. Why the hell not? Instantly, Chloe felt her hackles rise.
“Yes, I was going to tell you but –”
“Well, why didn’t you then?”
“Because I knew you’d react like this – that’s bloody why!” Dan’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I knew you’d try and make something of it.”
“Well, would you blame me?” Chloe stood up. “When you’re sn
eaking around behind my back, having secret meetings with your ex-wife!”
“I wasn’t sneaking around. It wasn’t like that. It was tense on the phone, and to break the ice I asked her to meet me sometime for coffee. Then she rang me one day last week and –”
“And of course you had to up and meet her, just like that, and without a second thought about my feelings! What is it, Dan? She says jump and you say ‘hold on ’til I get my trampoline’?”
“Of course not. Look, Chloe, I told you that I felt bad about not telling her personally about us and –”
“Yes, but you said you’d phone her. You certainly didn’t tell me you’d be having cosy dates with her!”
“Oh, please!” Dan put a hand to his head. “I’m not able for this any more, Chloe, really I’m not.”
“Oh, well, s-o-r-r-y! But don’t you think that as your future wife, I deserve to know about these secret meetings with your bloody ex-wife! What’s going on, Dan? Why do I feel that you’re not telling me everything here?”
“Chloe, can you please just give it a rest – for once!” Dan stood up, infuriated.
“For once? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Anyway, what do you expect me to think?”
“There’s nothing to think, Chloe! All I was trying to do was treat my wife – my ex-wife – with a little bit of respect. After all Nicola’s been through, it’s the very least she deserves!”
“What’s that supposed to . . . where are you going?” Her tone dropped a level, seeing him head for the door.
“Out!” he said. “Where I don’t have to listen to this!” With that, Dan grabbed his jacket, walked out the door and slammed it loudly behind him.
Chloe stared after him, her thoughts running a race alongside her heartbeat. She sank down in her seat, and with more than a little trepidation, recalled Dan’s words.
After all Nicola had been through? What did the hell that mean?
Right, that was it, Chloe thought, angrily throwing aside the guest list. Seeing as Dan seemed to have no problems with sneaking around behind her back, why shouldn’t she do the same? John O’Leary had given her something to go on, and with a little persuasion, she might just be able to find someone who would go that bit further, and know that much more about Dan and Nicola’s relationship.
