by Dale, Lindy
“What about you, Bella? What’s you’re claim to fame?” Phil asked.
“Well. I’m pretty boring. I went to St Brigid’s and now I’m here doing Arts.”
“Isn’t that a convent school? I bet you know lots of nice girls you could introduce us to.”
I looked around and grinned. “Some of the girls I went to school with are not very nice at all, Coops, and my friends are all spoken for in one way or another.”
“That’s too bad, especially if they’re as pretty as you.”
Justin gestured to the barmaid. “Bella, your glass is empty. Here, have another one.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Yes, you should. It’s Thursday.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“We always drink on Thursday. If you want to be one of the boys, you’ll have to learn to drink with us,” Phil replied. “We drink on Fridays too, and Saturdays after footy and sometimes Sundays. We have a very busy schedule.”
“Do you think you can handle the pace, Beautiful Bella?” Coops purred. He held out an open packet of cigarettes. I took one and, leaning over the flame he offered, inhaled the smoke, blowing it mischievously into his face. “Oh, I think I can handle it if you can.”
Coops blinked and took a swig on his beer. He raised his eyebrows. Girls didn’t make jokes laden with sexual innuendo. Girls sat around and looked pretty.
But Phil burst into peels of laughter. “I love you, Bella. A girl who can take Coops on at his own game is going to be a real asset to our Friday night entertainment.”
I laughed too.
Instantly, I could tell we were all going to be great friends.
***
And we were, but somehow I didn’t think my new life and the old one would mix. So when the invitation came for Jen and Tim’s wedding, I decided to go alone. Besides, Bella the party girl didn’t need a date. Dates were far too restrictive to the flirting and drinking regime.
“I can’t believe we’re sitting here,” I whispered as I stared at the afternoon sun streaming through the stained glass windows of the Cathedral. What I had meant to say was… I can’t believe I’m sitting here with you…. but that was a trifle nasty considering the setting, so I kept it to myself. It seemed like only months ago I had sat there in my school uniform for Graduation. Those were the days when life was easy and Ben still loved me. Before he’d taken my heart and used it as a dishrag.
“Shhh.” Lucy’s head was bent in prayer, “we’re in the church.”
“Oh, come off it, you never had a religious bone in your body when we were at school. I’m not falling for that trash.”
Lucy was trying to keep a straight face. “Yes, I did! My family is very religious. Besides, we have to set a good example. Some of these heathens have probably never even been inside a church.”
Well, that was true.
“I haven’t been since I left school. I have much better things to do with my time.”
“Obviously. We don’t see you much anymore, now you’ve got all your new intellectual friends.”
I studied her from the corner of my eye. What did she expect? It wasn’t my fault that she’d never finished Year 12 and had gone to find herself in some psychedelic hippy commune thereby limiting her choice of occupation to checkout chick or dishwasher. And she could hardly say that her behaviour, over the past two years, warranted a full scale sisterhood between us. She was lucky I spoke to her at all.
“I hope this isn’t a full mass,” she said, fiddling in her handbag for a Tictac. “Mum will have kittens if I don’t go to communion but I haven’t been to confession for ages, so I can’t.”
I listened with out saying anything. We both knew Lucy’s sins could keep her in that box for a year. It was no wonder she was avoiding it.
Sticking my head out the side of the pew, I peeked down the aisle. A side door opened and Tim stepped up to the altar. His hands were wringing but he looked quite dashing in his grey morning suit and bowtie. “I can see Tim. His tie’s apricot. Prue must be wearing apricot.”
There’d been speculation, from the moment the invitations arrived, as to what the bridesmaids would wear. For some reason I couldn’t understand, people liked to keep it a secret but the word on everyone’s nuptial lips was taffeta. Taffeta, taffeta, taffeta in any shade that was either pink or apricot and styled with huge Princess Diana sleeves. I couldn’t think of anything more excruciatingly vile, except maybe having to wear some gold, lacy confection. Yuck!
Lucy stretched her neck to see. “Why do people insist upon wearing those ridiculous things with veils of net on their heads? They’re so inane; I can’t see a thing over that fluffy monstrosity there. Who’re the groomsmen?”
She wriggled across the pew towards me, trying to improve her view, not caring that she was squashing me into the armrest.
“Tim’s cousin, Dean, is Best Man and I’m not sure about the groomsman. Jen was tightlipped about the whole thing really. She wanted the details to be a surprise.”
I didn’t add that Jen and I hadn’t seen a great deal of each other since the beginning of the year, or rather the announcement of the impending marriage. My disapproval had been obvious and a rift had formed between us with the gap only growing wider since I’d gone to Uni and Jen had started work at Mrs. Sullivan’s boutique. We had nothing in common anymore. She didn’t like going out and she hated alcohol. School had been our only bond.
No one, in fact, had been more surprised than me when Tim and Jen had announced their engagement shortly after Christmas.
“Surely, you’re not serious?” I’d said, aghast.
“Of course we are, and we plan to marry in winter. I’ve always wanted to be a winter bride.”
“But you’re only eighteen. What about the rest of your life?” It was difficult for me to understand why someone would give up everything to have babies and be a housewife. There was more than that to life. I wanted to travel and study and, well, have some fun.
“I don’t need anything else, Bella. Tim is my life and he wants to marry me.”
“But where are you going to live? You don’t even have a house.”
“Mrs Sullivan said we could have the granny flat rent free, so we can save for a deposit.”
I was appalled. “Oh for heaven’s sake! I can’t believe your parents are letting you go through with this.”
“We love each other, Bella, and that’s all that matters.”
I’d rolled my eyes. Was Mrs. Sullivan totally demented? Or had she been so blinded by the prospect of kitchen teas and guest lists that she’d gone insane?
The wedding march began and the congregation stood to welcome the blushing bride. Ever shy of attention, Jen was truly blushing as she walked up the aisle on her father’s arm. Her gown was a bouffant original in tulle, watermark taffeta and sequins, so wide her father could hardly find her tiny arm to escort her. Even then, it was a struggle for them both to fit side by side in the aisle.
Lucy sighed. “Oh, Bella. That’s our daggy little Jen. Doesn’t she look beautiful?”
She didn’t. She looked like a pavlova.
“Nobody would ever have believe that it’s the same girl we met five years ago.”
That’s because nobody could recognize her under that hideous veil, I thought.
The congregation sat down as the couple prepared to make their vows, binding them to each other for life. The church was silent, all except Mrs. Sullivan who had begun to weep as soon as the wedding march began. She was sniffing into her hanky.
The bride handed her bouquet over to the bridesmaid for safekeeping and the groomsmen stood. I looked along the row of attendants, their backs to the crowd, the sun shining on the crowns of their hair. Two brown heads and one blonde – white blonde. Oh shit. Ben. I should have known when that bloody song came on the radio earlier that morning I was in for it. I’d only heard the opening chords and I’d been a blubbering mess. God.
Under the remains of my summe
r tan, I paled. My hands began to shake and my heart thumped but not in that good way it thumped when Ben was in view. It was a painful and terrifying kind of thud. I could feel the dizziness swimming inside my head.
Please, don’t let him see me, I prayed. I’m not ready for this. A lifetime couldn’t prepare me enough to face him again. Not after the humiliation of the whole traffic lights episode.
Lucy leant over. “Are you alright? You’re a funny shade of grey all of a sudden.”
“I don’t feel well; I think I might go out for some fresh air. It’s very stuffy in here.”
The afternoon sun was glaring in its brightness. I could see the colours of the sunset beginning to spread across the sky. The underbellies of the clouds were tinged with violet, the colour of sorrow, blending into pink and orange near the horizon. I sat down on the bottom step of the chapel, my head in my hands, breathing deeply. I had to pull myself together. I could not let Ben see me looking like an advertisement for Return of the Living Dead. He could never see what he had done to me. Nobody could ever see. It was time for the new Bella to live her life.
***
The band struck a chord and launched into a cabaret version of “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” But there was nothing crazy about it in my book. The reception was a nightmare. Chicken vol-au-vents that looked like something found in a baby’s nappy and racial taunts from racist Uncle Bob to the Indian family friends were a drop in the ocean of love when compared to what would happen if Ben and I crossed paths.
Feeling flirty and a little drunk since beginning my ‘Avoid-Ben-at-all-Costs’ mission, I drained another glass of champagne and grabbed Lucy by the hand. “Come on, Luc’, it’s time to hit the dance floor.”
“Oh God, not again!” We’d only just sat down from the last dance but, reluctantly, she got to her feet. “I don’t have the energy for this.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have become a vegan then. You’re so lacking in protein it’s a wonder you can get out of bed in the morning.”
Steering Lucy around the edges of the dance floor, I found what looked like the darkest corner. Ben was on the other side of the room. I didn’t know if he knew I was there but it was imperative to my sanity that I avoid him for as long as possible.
“Can’t we have a rest for a minute, please? My feet are killing me in these shoes,” Lucy begged.
“No, I want to dance. And don’t call me Annabelle. I loathe it.”
We started dancing. I wriggled and writhed, my red sailor mini dress swishing around my hips at perilously high levels that threatened to expose my knickers to the geriatrics at the buffet table. Lucy watched on, unsure. “I don’t know if I like this ‘new alcohol-improved’ Bella. You’re a lot mouthier than you used to be.”
“Yeah, and having you for a friend is no picnic either, so shut up and dance,” I said.
Lucy looked at me through suspicious eyes. She’d seen enough drugs at the ‘community’ to know what it looked like when you were stoned. “What’s wrong with you? Have you been taking something?”
“Don’t be silly. I’m having a good time. It’s a wedding after all. Oops!” I wobbled, grabbing her shoulder in an attempt to stop from falling.
“Is something bothering you?”
“No, I’m fine, really. I’m just tired of being boring and straight. I’m eighteen; it’s time for some fun.”
But I wasn’t fine. Seeing Ben standing there in his grey suit had brought it all back. It’d taken all of my willpower and a good deal of alcohol to avoid him so far. How was I going to keep it up for the rest of the night? I’d be on my ear by then.
I hate him, I thought. I hate him so much; I want to tear every last blonde hair from his handsome head!
“Hi girls. Having a good time?” Prue asked, as she danced up to us with her cousin, the Best
Man.
“It’s a lovely wedding. You look excellent in that dress, by the way. Have you lost weight?” Lucy asked.
“I didn’t want to be one of those frumpy bridesmaids. I haven’t seen real food in months.”
“Well, you look fantastic.”
The music stopped and we looked at each other. The Best Man was silent. He coughed and dug Prue in the arm with his elbow. “Oh shit, sorry, I think the champagne’s gone to my head. This is my cousin, Dean Hayward. He’s at Uni too, Bella. He’s doing Medicine.”
I smiled. He stared back through his serious green eyes, his angular face showing no emotion.
“Dean, this is Bella and Lucy, my friends from school. Bella’s doing Arts.”
I watched his face, registering and storing the information. I stood tall. “Nice to meet you Dean. Where’d you learn to dance like that? It’s rather impressive.”
“At school.”
“What school did you go to?” I asked.
“Scotch.”
I waited for him to say something else but his eyes were trained somewhere over my shoulder. “Well, um, it’s been very nice talking to you. If you’ll excuse me…”
“Maybe we could have a dance later?” he asked, smiling a large friendly smile that was deeply sexy and threw me into complete confusion. His voice sounded nervous. I couldn’t believe he’d spoken a whole sentence.
“Mmm. That’d be nice; I’ll find you, shall I?”
“Okay.”
He may have been cute but quiet boys were not what I needed. What I needed was another drink.
Sitting back down at the table, I fumbled in my handbag for a cigarette. Lighting it, I inhaled a couple of deep breaths and blew the smoke into the air. Where had Lucy and Prue gone? They had no right to leave me unprotected like this. Picking up my dessert fork, I stabbed it around for a bit in my dessert, my eyes roaming the room as I continued to suck the nicotine in. That was when I saw him. Standing at the end of our table. Watching. Shit.
Suddenly, my hands were clammy and trembling. The fork flung from between my fingers and bounced onto the carpet sending a glob of cream flying to the tablecloth. Escaping from Dean the Boring would be nothing compared to this. If only I could crawl under the table.
“Hi, Bella.” His voice was low and mellow, a lilting melody ringing in my ears. I looked up from under the tablecloth. He was still beautiful. The lights from the stage shone a halo around his head. How ironic - the Devil wearing a halo. He must have been, for only the Devil could look that good. Patiently, I waited for the horns and tail to sprout from his body. Instead, his face filled with tenderness.
Please Ben, please leave me alone, I thought. I can’t do this anymore.
I sat up in my chair.
“Can I sit down?”
No, now fuck off! I marveled at that little voice in my head. She was such a bitch.
Not waiting for a reply, he pulled up the empty chair beside me. He reached across and took my hand in his. I wanted to pull my hand away, to tell him to leave, but I couldn’t.
“When did you start smoking and drinking so much?” he asked.
“I was driven to it.”
“I know you’re still angry with me.”
Gee, how could he tell?
“I can see it in your eyes,” he said, answering my inner question, “but I need to talk to you, so it’s bad luck, I guess.”
I said nothing. I took a deep drag on my cigarette and tried to appear indifferent. It was the only way I could stay calm with him sitting so close.
“I wanted to say thank you for the bus thing. You ran off so fast, you never let me thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
“You pulled me from in front of a bus.”
“Like I said. Nothing.”
We looked at each other. His blue eyes were darker than usual. His hand trembled a little as he lifted his glass. “I didn’t cheat on you. You know I didn’t.”
I sat silently. I did know it. It was there, in his eyes.
If he says he wants me back, I swear, I’ll throw my drink in his face, I thought.
“I don’t know what els
e to say.”
My hand twisted at the tablecloth. If he says he still loves me I’m going to deck him, I thought. Truly.
“I love you, Bel’.”
Great.
I looked into his eyes. They were melting the ice block I’d built around my heart. I wanted to tell him I still felt the same, no matter what he’d done.
“Well… I guess that’s all I wanted to say,” he said.
Sitting straight as a rod, I took another drag on my cigarette. Don’t let him see your pain; don’t let him know it hurts to have him near. “When are you going back to Melbourne?”
“Tomorrow.”
It sounded so final. Tomorrow. It was always over so suddenly, never any time to become used to the idea.
“Will you dance with me, for old time’s sake?”
“Alright.”
He took my hand, and led me to the dance floor. The band was playing “Don’t Throw it All Away on Love”, drawing the older guests up from their seats. The words of the song rang in my ears, bringing tears to my eyes, like something I’d forgotten long ago and needed to remember.
Taking me in his arms, Ben guided me around the floor and from the corner of my eye, I could see Prue and Lucy, their faces glowing, thinking they had performed their job of matchmakers well. If only they’d known what it was doing to me. A double murder wasn’t out of the question.
Content to let him lead, I let my mind drift as I listened to the music and we floated together around the room. I’d forgotten what a wonderful dancer he was. I’d forgotten how good it was to touch him, to feel his warmth and strength beneath my fingertips. Instinctively, my head fell to its natural resting place against his chest. I breathed him in, every inch of him. He’d always smelled so good.
Ben sighed as my body relaxed against his. He must have sensed the change for he pulled me closer, holding me in the circle of his embrace. His cheek came down gently, to rest upon my head as we danced and the tears dripped down my cheek.
