Well, perhaps just once.
*
If I’d had to guess what sort of wedding dress India would choose it would have been something sleek and sort of cool. I never imagined she’d choose an off-the-shoulder, retro vintage one with a froth of underskirts, petticoats and a nipped-in waist that made her look rather like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. (The bit when she’s dressed as the princess, not the bit when she’s on the back of Gregory Peck’s scooter.) She looked fabulous and when I saw her coming downstairs with Dad I’ll admit I teared up a bit. And I’d been there when she chose it so it wasn’t as though I’d never seen it before.
She came and stood next to me and, without looking at me, grabbed my hand.
‘You should find someone nice now, Al,’ she said.
‘Oh well, never mind!’ I said, trying to sound confident and jolly. ‘You’re the clever, pretty, thin one.’
‘I do mind. I mind because you’re nicer than I am,’ India said. ‘You always have been.’
We looked at each other and I think we both would have burst into tears if the prospect of redoing our make-up hadn’t stopped us.
‘Oh, shut up,’ I said.
India grinned. ‘You shut up.’
‘Million times more than you ever say,’ I said.
‘Plus one.’
*
The church was only half a mile away from our house and on a good day I guess we could have walked it, but it was raining, the lanes were muddy and by the time we’d wedged India and her petticoats into the car she was almost mute with nerves.
This was not something that happened. I mean the being mute bit. India was always the loudest voice in the playground, the one with the annoying laugh at the cinema and the first one to start singing at a birthday party.
We got to the church to see some of Jerry’s barrister friends hanging around under the lychgate smoking, just like they did outside court. Honestly, they were supposed to be intelligent – they should have known better. When they saw us they stubbed out their fags in the fire bucket and scarpered inside pretty quickly to tell Jerry that his bride had arrived. Then there was just time for a few photographs, with Dad looking startled by the whole thing, before we went in. There we found our cousins Cathie and Leila trying to control their flower girl daughters. I straightened India’s skirts, adjusted her bouquet so the elderly aunts wouldn’t think she was pregnant and got the flower girls into a reasonably straight line behind her before we set off towards Jerry and her date with destiny.
The church was almost full. There was a wonderful scent of greenery and perfume and a terrific display of hats and fascinators just as India had wanted. At the front I could see the extravagant riot of lilac feathers that marked where Mum was sitting. I walked slowly forwards, trying gamely to hang on to my shoes, which were very slightly too large, keep the three flower girls together so they didn’t dash off when they saw their mothers scuttling down the side of the pews, and keep my own bouquet of white roses and blue hydrangeas the right way up.
We all took a collective deep breath and India looked round at me and winked.
‘Okay, kid?’ she said, and I almost wanted to cry. I was suddenly so happy for her.
At the front of the church I could see Jerry’s narrow head with his dark hair sleeked back and next to him his crazy best man, Mark. As the ‘Wedding March’ began, Dad and India started forwards and mercifully the three flower girls were sufficiently overawed to follow without making a fuss.
I looked around the congregation, recognising school friends, aged aunts, India’s university chums and some of our many cousins who were all bobbing about and turning to see her. Over by the font I could see Tim, and Charlie and his wife. At the end of one pew I recognised Mum’s sister, Fiona, under an alarming green feather fascinator, and just beyond them Dad’s brother, Paul, with one arm in a sling following a recent argument with a brick wall.
There was a large woman in pink I didn’t recognise, smiling and nodding at me, and next to her was Gabriel Frost.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Looks Familiar
Single Malt, Silver Tequila, Agave Syrup, Angostura Bitters
It took me a moment to process this information and I walked on for a few steps, hardly breathing.
I looked again. It was him. It was definitely him. It was Gabriel.
He was wearing a dark suit, a white shirt and a beautiful crimson tie just as stylish and gorgeous as I’d imagined. Our gazes locked for a moment and I felt a quite astonishing thrill of excitement run straight through me. Why and how was he here?
India had reached Jerry by this point and I had to spring into action, stopping the flower girls from trampling on the back of India’s shoes and herding them towards their mothers so that I could take India’s bouquet.
‘Dearly beloved.’
I stood in a sort of stupor behind India while the vicar went through the service.
‘Do you Jeremy St John Cholmondley Sinclair …’
Cholmondley?
Gabriel was in the church, just a few steps away from me. But what was he doing here? How did he know? How had he got here? Why was he here?
‘Do you India Mary Fisher …’
It was surreal, it was incredible, it was wonderful.
‘… to have and to hold from this day forward …’
I wanted to turn round; I wanted to look at him again to make sure he was still there, that I hadn’t imagined it. I could feel his eyes on me, I was sure of it. Why was he here?
I forced myself to concentrate; my sister was getting married. It was a special and wonderful moment.
I shouldn’t be thinking about Gabriel Frost and remembering the feel of him. That moment when I thought he needed me, that I loved him. My mind carried on recalling more and more erotic details.
I shouldn’t be standing in church remembering how Gabriel had gently bitten my neck, run his tongue over my breast, how he had tasted, smelled.
Ashamed, I looked up at the disapproving face of St John the Baptist in the stained-glass window in front of us and waited to be struck by lightning.
By now the vicar was rousing himself to a veritable pitch as he held India’s and Jerry’s hands between his.
‘Those whom God hath put together, let no man put asunder.’
There was a sudden cheer from the herd of barristers and applause echoed around the church and grew in volume as Jerry beamed down at India and kissed her.
I shouldn’t think any man would put this couple asunder; they were so perfectly, wonderfully matched. They each thought the other was wonderful despite knowing their faults and having lived together for over a year. Jerry knew India couldn’t be left alone with a box of chocolates and as he had trouble remembering his own birthday he would probably never remember hers.
One of Jerry’s friends from his chambers came forward to play something rather lovely on the piano while we went into the vestry so the newlyweds could sign the register. India was wild with happiness and couldn’t stop grinning while Jerry was obviously a bit emotional and kept dabbing his top lip with his handkerchief and saying ‘Gosh’ as though he couldn’t believe his luck.
I stood watching them as they posed for the traditional signing-the-register photographs and India looked up at me with a wicked grin.
She came over and hugged me and I congratulated her.
‘You okay?’ she said.
‘You knew he was going to be here, didn’t you?’
India laughed. ‘I told him where I was getting married and when. Then I left it up to him. Apparently he spoke to Charlie the other day, in the office.’
I remembered it now, Charlie waving me off early as he answered the phone.
‘Yes, that’s right. Yes, she does. Yes, indeed.’
Well, blow me down! Surely he hadn’t come back from America just for this?
Hang on, I had been angry with Gabriel, hadn’t I?
Should I be this pleased to see him again? No, I sh
ouldn’t. And yet I was giddy with wanting to get back into the church, this time facing the congregation so I could see if Gabriel really was there or if I’d imagined it.
He was there.
It was true.
Jerry and India fairly skipped down the nave of the church, India waving her bouquet triumphantly above her head. Happily the two bigger flower girls had stayed with their mother as she had produced cartons of squash, and the smaller one, Maudie, was busy lying on the floor having a tantrum because she only had water. I walked out next to Mark, the best man, my arm linked through his, and Gabriel’s was the first face I saw.
Thank heavens it was raining. It meant we would have to go straight to the reception rather than stand in the churchyard having photos taken. Anyway Maudie was now red-faced and howling because she had seen the other two having crisps, so Jerry and India nipped into their posh car and were driven away.
I felt a hand on my arm, warm through my lacy sleeve, and I turned.
‘Can I give you a lift?’ Gabriel said.
I looked up at him and couldn’t think what to say. I mean not even a vague sort of hello. I was suddenly aware my mouth had dropped open and I probably looked like a complete moron.
He steered me gently out of the church and put up a huge black umbrella to shield me from the rain. Then we got into his car (dark blue Aston Martin, pale leather seats, my absolute dream car) and he started the engine.
As we waited for the other cars in front of us to move he turned to me.
‘You look wonderful,’ he said. ‘You’re even more beautiful than I remember.’
‘Oh,’ I said, wondering for a split second who else was in the car with us.
*
The Manor House was a gorgeous old place, once home to a family who had slept with the right people and fought on the winning side in the seventeenth century. Now it was a beautifully refurbished and very elegant hotel. We swished up through the gates in fine style. Gabriel dropped me by the front door and went to park the car. A line of waitresses waited in the marble-floored hallway with glasses of champagne and trays of canapés. I skirted round the nibbles, even though they did look rather spectacular, and took two glasses of champagne. I knocked one back in record time and hid the glass behind a clock on the mantelpiece before anyone noticed. I knew India and Jerry were already in the dining room because I could hear India exclaiming how lovely everything looked and Jerry laughing like a lunatic. I sipped my other glass of champagne and went in.
‘Looks absolutely fantastic,’ I said.
India span round. ‘You’ve not lost Gabriel already?’
‘No, I bloody haven’t! He’s gone to park the car.’
‘Nice surprise?’ She hunched her shoulders at me in delight, the same way she used to when she watched me open my birthday presents.
‘I think so. Yes, just a bit of a shock,’ I said.
‘Well, I got fed up with seeing you so miserable. At least this way you can talk to him and see what’s what. Doesn’t it look great in here? I mean so pretty!’
We stood side by side looking at the array of round tables covered in pale blue cloths, the silver cutlery glinting in the lights from the candelabra overhead. There were white flowers threaded with fairy lights on every table and sparkling silver confetti scattered round each place setting. It looked magical.
‘It’s wonderful,’ I said, sliding my arm through hers, ‘really beautiful.’
‘I’m so happy,’ she said, with a funny little bob of her head. ‘Everything is fabulous. I’m bubbling inside! I’m married to the most wonderful man in the world. I just want everyone to feel like this! And I want you to be this happy too.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said.
‘Do better than that,’ India said. ‘Ooh, look, Aslan is on the move. Gabriel’s back. Over there by the cake. My word, I suppose he’s not bad-looking, is he? Hang on, Mum’s coming over. I’ll head her off as long as I can.’
Not bad-looking? There wasn’t a woman in the place who didn’t turn and look at Gabriel as he walked across the room. In his gorgeous dark suit and with his hair shining under the lights he looked fabulous. Three waitresses nearly collided with each other in their haste to serve him and I even saw Mum and my Great-Aunt Audrey give him the once-over before India took them both away to help her with something. What the hell was he doing making a determined beeline for me?
Anyway.
He scooped up two glasses of champagne and got to my side, his movements graceful and unhurried. He held out a glass to me and I took it, wondering if I was going to last the afternoon without dropping my meal down my dress, bursting into tears or saying something embarrassing.
‘You look fabulous,’ he said with a smile at India. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks,’ India said. ‘Oops, I’d better go and … you know … um, do that thing we were talking about.’
‘What thing?’ I said.
‘That thing,’ India said, hurrying off as fast as her high heels would allow.
‘Well, cheers.’ Gabriel and I clinked glasses and he took a sip of champagne.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ I said. ‘India says it was her idea.’
‘It was mine actually,’ Gabriel said. ‘She just gave me enough information to track you down. I never did ask for your phone number or address, did I?’
‘No, I assumed you didn’t want them.’
‘Always a risk to assume that sort of thing, Alexa,’ he said as he bent towards me so that his breath stirred my hair. ‘I wanted them a great deal.’
His voice was low and slightly husky and I felt the most incredible clench of lust.
I was going to fall over; my legs were suddenly weak.
I gave a little whimper at the back of my throat.
He touched my arm. ‘By the way, you have no right to be more beautiful than the bride. It’s not done.’
I couldn’t speak for a moment and busied myself straightening a knife on one of the tables so I didn’t have to look at him. I wanted to be cool and sensible and not draw attention to myself. But at the same time it would have been nice to start a sophisticated and interesting conversation that would make him laugh so that other people would look over and see me with this amazing man. Then I wouldn’t be the gooseberry on the Smug Marrieds’ table as I was fully expecting to be.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see people watching us. It was only a matter of time before someone cracked, came over and asked to be introduced. From then on I would have to share Gabriel with all the other women who were probably dribbling at the sight of him.
Unfortunately it was proving very difficult to be cool and sensible because I was having the most startling flashbacks. Remembering being in bed with him, the feel of his breath on my neck, his hands on my skin. I didn’t want to introduce Gabriel Frost to anyone, or make small talk about the hotel or the flowers or the meal. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to go upstairs with him. I wanted to completely abdicate all my bridesmaid’s duties and spend the rest of the day in bed with him. Preferably in one of the fabulous, four-poster rooms with the vast en-suite bathrooms I’d seen on the hotel website. The sort of rooms that are so gorgeous you know you’ll be comfortable and have a lovely time in them. There would be beautifully co-ordinated cushions all over the place and massive tassels on the curtain tiebacks. The sort of room where you were guaranteed fantastic sex and would probably lose a dress size as you walked in through the door. One of those rooms.
He touched the small of my back with his hand and I melted towards him in a pathetically unsophisticated way. Let’s be honest, he was the sexiest, most fabulous, most gorgeous man I’d ever seen and I couldn’t wait to …
Hang on a cotton-picking moment!
There was something I was forgetting, wasn’t there? There was the shadow of Marnie Miller standing next to him with that pleased cat smile she had. I’d been furious, hadn’t I, when I saw her with him? And miserably jealous. The divorce.
Her dear friend Gabriel. What was he doing here, in a small country house hotel, with me at my sister’s wedding? I mean it wasn’t as though we had royalty among the guests. I wasn’t aware India had struck a deal with Hello! magazine for the photo rights.
I stiffened my spine and steadied myself.
‘So, last time I saw you was in the papers with Marnie. Her divorce from the perfect Leo? How’s that going then?’
His face clouded. I’d said something wrong, something that had spoiled the mood between us. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be a fool, not again.
‘I told you I was her lawyer.’
‘And it’s all going well?’
‘It depends what you mean by well,’ Gabriel said. ‘No divorce is fun.’
No, I thought, particularly when it turns nasty.
‘So introduce us, why don’t you?’
I turned to see Lola, one of the PAs from Jerry’s work, standing with a hungry expression directed at Gabriel. She looked a strange mixture of drag queen and nun and had come to the wedding in a flowing grey and white dress accessorised with blood-red nails and lipstick.
‘Lola, this is a friend of mine: Gabriel Frost.’
Lola shook Gabriel’s hand with a white claw and manoeuvred herself in between us.
‘Oh, you’re American? I love that special relationship between our two great nations,’ she purred.
‘Well, I’m not actually American, but yes,’ he said, ‘great, isn’t it?’
‘I must introduce you to a friend of mine.’ She looked around the room. ‘Her name’s Georgia and she loves everything American.’
‘How wonderful.’ Gabriel moved smoothly around behind her and took my arm. ‘Perhaps later – we should go and give our congratulations to the groom first.’
We went over to where India and Jerry were standing by a glorious flower arrangement, accepting compliments and kisses from their guests.
India’s face lit up when she saw Gabriel.
‘All going well?’ she asked.
I interrupted quickly. ‘So, India, is there anything you need me to do?’
Come Away With Me Page 27
