No One Wants to Be Miss Havisham

by Brigid Coady

  “It’s like this,” Jack said.

  He guided her hands to the correct ropes and took her through the procedure. The heat of his hands flowing through hers; her fingers chilly from the wind and fear twitched at the contact. They itched to turn and hold on to him tight.

  “Ready then?” Gary asked.

  Was she? This was her chance to step away from the edge and walk back across the roof and away from her fear. But hadn’t she been walking away from fear for most of her life?

  “Ready,” she whispered.

  Jack squeezed her hand tightly and then released it.

  She shuffled in the tight harness to the edge of the roof.

  “Now stand with your back to the edge,” Gary said as he manoeuvred her into place.

  Edie turned and faced Jack. He stood there, his arms crossed on his chest, his eyes staring intently at her, a small encouraging smile on his mouth.

  “If you just stand on the very edge, just like that and lean back,”

  Lean back? Were they completely mad?

  She might not be able to see the drop but she could feel it. It tugged at her hair, at her jacket. It called to her to come and play. To see what it would feel like to free-fall. To feel the wind rushing past her stealing her breath. To give into gravity until Newton’s law of motion brought her to an abrupt and painful halt.

  “Lean back, come on. You need to be perpendicular to the building as you walk down,” Gary coaxed her.

  Theoretically she knew what this was all about and in theory she could do it. In theory she was leaning back and her heart was beating slowly. In theory she was breathing regularly and she wasn’t feeling light-headed like she’d faint.

  In theory she was already at the bottom of the building.

  However, in practice she was still staring at a now concerned Jack. In practice her legs were braced hard against the jelly-wobble that ran through them every few seconds. In practice, the rope she held whipped back and forth like an agitated cat’s tail.

  “Edie?” Jack said. “You can still back out.”

  She could couldn’t she? No one would blame her, would they?

  “She’s the Ice Queen”

  “A cold bitch”

  “An automaton”

  “The borg”

  All the words from her trip with the Ghost of Weddings Present began to echo in her head.

  But she wasn’t that person. She had promised to do this. People were sponsoring her. The Ice Queen would walk away. The cold bitch that Jack talked of would slink off with a cutting remark.

  But he wasn’t looking at her like she was a cold bitch now.

  And little Timmy…

  His laughing knowing eyes had looked too deeply, seen too much and had ultimately found her wanting.

  “I’ll do it,” the words couldn’t come out of her dry mouth.

  She wet her lips, swallowed and tried again.

  “I’ll do it,” the wind almost carried it away but it reached Gary, Jack and everyone on the roof.

  “Then I’m doing it with you!” Jack said.

  He was what?

  Chapter 19

  Within five minutes, Jack was harnessed up. He’d signed all the insurance forms and he was beside her. A pinstripe suited, helmeted force of nature. The charity photographer who had been slouched in a heap near the parapet had leapt to life when he realised the charity was about to get a hell of a scoop and some great publicity.

  “Ready?” asked Gary.

  “Ready?” Jack whispered to her.

  “Ready,” she replied.

  And then in unison they leant back. Edie watched Jack’s hands as they held their rope firmly, watched his feet in the borrowed trainers that gave more grip than the leather soled shoes he had been wearing.

  “I hope you are going to follow directions for once in your life, Slow.” Jack said as they hung out over the pavement far below them.

  She would follow him anywhere if he got her back on the ground.

  “I’ll follow,” she said.

  “OK, I’ll count and on three we slip down to the next level,” he said.

  “OK,” she nodded.

  “One, two, three,”

  On three Edie screwed her eyes shut and loosened the rope as she shoved her feet off the wall.

  She was falling.

  “Brake!”

  At his call, she braked and her feet were once again against the wall and they were off the top.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jack said.

  Grinning Edie turned to look at him.

  He smiled back at her and then she made a big mistake.

  She looked down.

  “No.” Jack shouted.

  It was such a long way down. The fierce pull she had ignored briefly was back.

  “No,” he said and suddenly there was the warmth of his hand under her chin.

  Her head came up, the pull of his magnetism overpowering gravity.

  “The three places you can look at are the sky, the wall and,” he released her chin and pointed two fingers at his face “my eyes.”

  It was an order. Jack was in charge and Edie was glad someone was. She nodded.

  She took a deep breath, pursed her lips together and blew it out in a long stream.

  “One, two, three,” Jack said again.

  And they were off again.

  One, two, three. Brake.

  Gradually they made their way down. Edie ignored the shouts from the roof; the waving workers in the building gathering to watch them. All she saw were Jack's eyes. Their watchers grew exponentially along with the camera flashes as the word spread that Jack Twist was hanging outside the building.

  And as they got closer and closer to the pavement, the siren song it had been singing to Edie was drowned out by the cheers and encouragement from the crowd below.

  “One, two, three,” she chanted under her breath with Jack.

  And then suddenly there was land. Her feet were no longer walking down a wall they were on solid ground. The moment they hit the pavement the tiny part of the siren song that still wove a tendril around her stopped.

  “You did it!” Jack said.

  She turned and she caught a glimpse of his huge grin before she was enveloped in a hug.

  She’d done it. And at that her knees wobbled once and fell apart as did her emotions.

  “Hey Edie, you did it,” Jack held her up and pressed her head into his chest.

  “Mwwwmahamam,” she was incoherent but muffled by his suit jacket.

  “You’re not crying are you?” he asked.

  Cry? Edie Dickens?

  No it must have been some grit or the wind as they came down that made her eyes water. But she stayed with her head against his chest for a few more minutes until she was able to breathe properly. Or at least as properly as she was able when standing so close to Jack.

  “Jack! Jack! Over here mate!”

  As Edie’s knees returned to firmness she began to hear the calls of the crowd around them.

  “Jack! Amit Pindora from BBC London. Can we have a few words to camera?”

  “Jack! Who’s your lady friend?”

  “Damn press,” Jack whispered.

  Edie now knew why the charity people had been so eager to get Jack to join her on the abseil. The story went from a nice human-interest filler piece to a story that might just make it on to the early evening news.

  And here she was, bedraggled and shaking. Not the professional image she needed.

  “Are you OK if I go and talk to them? Try and divert them from you?” Jack asked.

  She nodded into his jacket.

  And then he was gone and she felt bereft.

  And that was it; her great charity moment overshadowed by Jack. All the supporters from the office were either already in the pub or watching Jack avidly from behind the cameras. Edie limped her way to the waiting marshals, keeping her face down and hoping someone would get this bloody harness off her quickly before she lost any
more circulation.

  And then Edie lost herself in the crowd. Her bags recovered from the marshal clutched in white knuckles as she watched Jack turn on the charm.

  He smiled for the camera and spoke at length gesturing upwards and then became serious for a moment.

  Then he said goodbye to the TV reporter, slapping him on the back in camaraderie. She saw the moment he looked back to find her gone, but before he could do anything a group of fan girls grabbed his attention for autographs.

  Was that what it would always be like with him? Having to share him with the rest of the world? And what would happen when the world wanted more and more? Would she get less and less until there was a Jack-shaped hole in her life? She had enough of those. She'd had enough people leave. She didn't want to turn into Mum and make him choose.

  She shook her head. Why was she even thinking that? A few kisses and some steamy dreams did not make a relationship. But you’d like them to, her treacherous inner voice said. Liking and doing were two different things, and she knew the difference very well.

  Without a backward glance, Edie turned moved out of the crowd. She’d thank him tomorrow.

  "Well done, Edie."

  "I upped my sponsorship. You were so brave."

  "Got a hug from Jack Twist, you dark horse."

  Edie kept her chin up and nodded as she passed her colleagues down the corridor the next morning.

  She felt as if she was in a spotlight and it was burning all her layers away. She wanted to take a swipe at them all.

  And that comment about Jack Twist. She should snap a comment out right now. Show them how the Shark still had a lethal bite.

  Think of the money, she chanted inside while outside she glared and swept past.

  She shut the door of her office.

  Maybe she could hide in here all day? Rachel wouldn't be in till Monday. No one would bother her.

  Edie sat at her desk.

  Just get through the rest of the day, she thought. She was almost looking forward to the wedding. Then at least it would be over.

  Ghosts.

  One more left, she sighed. There was still one more chance to head it off.

  She opened her calendar. Maggie and Doug were due in for their last meeting at ten o'clock.

  Edie wondered if she could leave it to Jack.

  No, that was a coward’s way out.

  Jack had done the hard work. Now it was for her to make sure Maggie and Doug put on a united front tomorrow. Preferably wearing their wedding rings and taking their wedding vows seriously.

  Edie shuddered as she remembered the close up view of Maggie playing tonsil hockey at the hen weekend.

  This was for Mel. Her wedding present to her.

  And before she could back out, she ran the gauntlet of the office corridor again and went to find Jack.

  "Jack," she stood by his desk, ignoring the curious looks from the people sitting nearest him.

  "Hey Edie," he started to unfold from his seat.

  No, she couldn’t have him looming over her.

  She put her hand on his shoulder.

  "Don't get up," she said quickly.

  "Are you OK? I missed you after the interview yesterday," he said as he sat back down. "I was going to buy you a drink. Or dinner."

  He winked and just like that, she wanted to sit on his lap. Curl up there and let whatever would happen, happen.

  No, be strong Edie.

  She looked down into his eyes. The same eyes that had held her attention the whole way down the building yesterday.

  She could feel the wind in her hair, and the ground pulling her downwards.

  She grabbed the desk to stop from falling.

  "I'm fine. I wanted to say that I'd deal with Maggie and Doug today. You don't need to come." She pushed off the desk with a hand, trying to give herself the momentum she needed to spin out of his orbit.

  "But Edie, is that wise?" he grasped her hand.

  Warmth crept up her arm, trying to melt her.

  "It will be fine," she tried to smile as she tugged her hand out of his.

  It would be fine.

  If she had to lock them in a room and not let them out till they solved it.

  She walked away and didn't look back.

  "Maggie, Doug" she ushered them into the meeting room.

  "Edie," they both said and, subdued, took their places at the table.

  Edie itched as if someone’s eyes were on her. She looked over her shoulder expecting to see Jack storm in and try to take over as if he’d worked out what she was up to.

  Instead, she met the oil painted, brush stroked, accusing eyes of the Hilary Satis portrait.

  Did they just blink?

  First ghosts, now portraits. She rubbed her eyes.

  No, they were just paint on canvas.

  Tiredness and stress were getting to her. Just tomorrow to get through and then she could worry about going mad.

  I'm probably there already, she thought. But this wasn't about her mental state, this was about getting these two sorted out. This was about Mel.

  "Where's Jack?" Maggie asked.

  She and Doug both peered round Edie, looking for him.

  “Jack can’t make it today, so I’m here.”

  Edie stretched out her fingers to loosen the stress and then she clenched them into fists.

  “First we need to come to an agreement about how you two are going to behave tomorrow. I’m not having you upsetting Mel on her day.”

  Edie stared at first one and then the other, holding them until they looked away uncomfortably.

  “Well, I say, really.” Doug started to bluster.

  “What, Doug? You have to walk your daughter down the aisle. Do you really want her knowing what you’ve been up to?” Edie said. She’d had enough of pussy footing round them.

  She watched in surprise as Maggie reached over and squeezed Doug’s hand, as he turned red and purple in the face from embarrassment.

  “Really, Edie…” Maggie started.

  Edie cut her off.

  “We need to make sure that you two behave tomorrow. And maybe if you can do that, maybe you can carry on and patch things up?” Edie didn’t realise she was still hopeful that these two could make it.

  That they could show her that marriage was something worth fighting for.

  “OK, Edie. We get it.” She watched them hold hands at the table.

  See? I can do this, she thought and wished that Jack Twist was here to see it.

  Instead she sat under the watchful gaze of Ms Satis.

  Chapter 20

  “You’ve got some nerve!”

  The door to the office slammed open and banged off the wall.

  Edie jumped, she’d been looking at her files and smiling to herself that she had the whole mediation/reconciliation thing sorted.

  Standing in the doorway was a very dishevelled Rachel. Her hair was greasy and looked like birds could nest in it. She was wearing slouchy yoga pants and a cardigan pulled on over a button down shirt. All the buttons were done up wrongly.

  Edie thought there was a very suspicious stain on the sleeve.

  “Rachel? I didn’t think you were due in until Monday.”

  Damn, thought Edie. I haven’t come up with a good apology yet.

  She frowned at Rachel; she could do without these histrionics. OK, so Rachel had made her feelings quite plain in terms of broadcasting her family issues around the firm but this was taking things too far.

  “Rachel, I just wanted to say…” Edie started.

  “You want? It’s always about you and I’ll say it again. You’ve got some nerve, lady!” Rachel’s normally sallow face was flushed and she was glaring at Edie. She slammed the office door shut.

  “What is it now? I was just about to say I’m sorry.”

  Really Rachel needed to get things in perspective.

  “Sorry? Sorry? I’ll make you sorry when I’ve finished with you. Do you know what you’ve done? Do you?”


  Edie shook her head; speaking was probably not the best thing to do just now, she thought.

  “Not only did you have to splash the whole of my personal life round the office but now it’s all over London and probably the rest of the world!”

  Ah, the press.

  “And don’t give me all that shit about it being charitable and the like. You just did it to get into Jack Twist’s bed.” Rachel flung the newspaper at Edie’s face.

  Edie grabbed it before it could hit her.

  She unfolded the paper and there, on the front page of the Metro was Jack and herself.

  Edie could see why Rachel might have got the wrong idea. She was plastered against him as if trying to merge with him. And in a small inset was the moment at the top of the building where he had held her hand.

  HEARTTHROB TWISTS FOR LOVE?

  Blared out the headline.

  “Retired England International, Jack Twist took an impromptu abseil down a building in London yesterday. Twist, 35, claims he was helping a work colleague raise cash for Timmy Cratchit, stepson of fellow worker, Rachel Micawber. Looks like he was helping himself to some more extracurricular activity. Our sources have identified the mystery brunette as Edwina Dickens, a high-flying lawyer at Bailey Lang Satis and Partners, where Twist started working after retiring at the end of last year.”

  Edie groaned. This was not good.

  “There is nothing going on like that. I really was trying to help…”

  “Help? Help? You fucking cold-hearted bitch, you used my Timmy as a way to get what you wanted. What, were you trying to persuade Jack that you aren’t the cold bitch we know you are? And it didn’t matter to you who you hurt? I’m going to kill you.”

  At that, Rachel pushed Edie’s desk out of the way, tipping over her monitor. It crashed to the floor as she threw herself across the desk.

  What the… Rachel’s bulging eyes were suddenly right there in front of Edie, her hands were claws aiming for Edie’s eyes. In the nick of time Edie leaned back and the wind whistled past as the hands mostly missed her but one of the ragged bitten nails caught the end of her nose.

  “Ouch! Bloody hell, Rachel!” Edie said, her chair sliding back and stopping against the wall.

  “I’ll ‘bloody hell’ you. Come here!” Rachel screamed and she got a little further over the desk and her hands closed around Edie’s throat.