by Sharon Owens
‘I’m sorry, Julie.’
‘Forget it.’
Julie was looking fabulous, I have to say. Bob newly styled, gorgeous blue-stone choker round her neck with silver and white flowers dangling from it, knee-length brown leather boots and a swanky new handbag still smelling of leather and luxury. Her perfume was heavy and spicy and I felt my heart aching for the past. The past, when everything was so simple. Before Alicia-Rose went to Australia. Before Julie went off the rails and left me to run the business on my own half the time. Before my Bill was almost killed… and I knew it was finally time for me to grow up.
‘These are for you,’ Julie said sweetly, holding out an enormous bouquet of pink flowers, lots of different kinds including some exotic blooms I’d never seen before. They looked like sleeping tarantulas, to tell you the truth, except they were pink. And there was a dramatic pink grass thing going on around the bottom. Enough cellophane and ribbons to sink a ship. Very Julie, I decided. I wondered what she wanted from me. Possibly she needed me back early at the lighthouse?
‘Well, how lovely!’ I said, reaching out for the flowers. ‘Thanks very much, Julie. You shouldn’t have. But they are beautiful. What’s the occasion?’
‘Oh, I think we both know what the occasion is, Mags. To say how very, very silly I’ve been. And how terrific you’ve been, taking over for me at the lighthouse when I was busy… It won’t happen again, I promise. The control-freak is back for good.’
‘It’s forgotten. Really.’
‘Hopefully, everyone else will forget soon too. People have short memories, Mags. All of this will be ancient history one day. Oh, I thought we might change the name of the business when the court case is over. White Orchid Weddings, did you say once? I think that’s lovely.’
‘Oh, no, Julie. I’ve changed my mind. I think we should keep Dream Weddings, honestly I do. It feels right. We’ve been through a lot together and I want to keep it.’
‘Really? Do you?’
‘Yes. I do.’
‘Okay, then. Dream Weddings it is.’
‘Look, have you time for a cuppa?’ I said.
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Julie purred and she gave me such an intense hug the lovely pink flowers were almost squashed between us.
‘Come through to the kitchen,’ I told her, setting off down the hall.
Seeing Julie again reminded me of the night of the accident. Which was unsettling. But, also, I was feeling delighted that she was in my house again and obviously missing me loads. ‘Here, can you pop these into the good room for me?’ I asked her. And I passed her back the bouquet. ‘It’s cooler in there. I’ll just get the kettle on.’
She took the flowers and nudged the door of the good room open with her toe.
‘Oh, Mags! It’s gorgeous in here,’ she said, clocking the depleted collection of candlesticks and the new white Roman blind. ‘Looks twice the size without the Gothic stuff and the purple silk drapes. Where’s Goily, though? Have you thrown him out?’
‘He’s in the garden,’ I told her, already gathering my best red plates and cups from the dresser shelves and switching on the toasted-sandwich maker. ‘We thought he would look nicer in the garden.’
Well, it’s a yard, really. But we call it a garden because it’s full to bursting with plants and flowers growing in pots and on a trellis Bill fixed to the wall years ago. There’s a little iron seat in the only corner that catches the sun and I like to think it’s an artistic sort of spot to relax in. So we’d heaved Goily onto an old skateboard of Alexander’s and wheeled him out to his new home, and he does look quite settled beside the creeping ivy, I have to say.
‘You should have had the room like this for your dad’s thingamajig,’ Julie said thoughtfully. She’s Free Presbyterian so she’s not very well up on wake-lingo. Julie’s biggest worry at times of bereavement is what hat to wear, but really I can’t fault her on that because she wasn’t ever close to her relatives on either side when she was growing up. I sometimes wonder how she’d cope if anything happened to the Coven, but then I scold myself for being so morbid. Anyway, I have no doubt Julie’s friends are immortal. They do give you that impression.
‘Oh, I know. I can’t believe we didn’t think of using the skateboard to move him at the time. The gargoyle, not my father! Oh, well, it’s done now. Cheese and onion do you?’ I said, fetching some Stilton with cranberries from the fridge and a shiny red onion from the vegetable rack.
‘Sounds lovely,’ Julie said, hopping up on a stool at the counter and playing with her rings and bracelets nervously. ‘I do miss your sandwiches, Mags. I think I took them rather for granted over the years.’
‘We’ve all taken things for granted,’ I said. ‘It’s human nature.’
The kitchen was warm and welcoming and Julie’s many bracelets rattled prettily as I chopped the onion and buttered four slices of bread.
‘Well,’ I asked her, ‘what’s up? Come on and tell me all the gossip.’
‘I went to visit Charlotte yesterday,’ Julie said suddenly, as the lid of the sandwich toaster hissed down.
Julie always calls her mother Charlotte, never Mummy or Mum.
‘How is she?’ I asked, pouring tea into cups and hunting through the cupboard for a packet of sugar. Julie takes sugar in her tea, and I don’t. I know, it doesn’t make sense to me either: her ankles are like straws.
‘The same. I told her my new boyfriend had cheated on me with another woman, a client of ours, to be precise. I told her he’d left me for this other woman and I was heartbroken. Well, I wasn’t really heartbroken but I wanted to see what she’d say.’
‘I can guess what she said.’
‘Yeah? “Men are all the same,” she said to me. “When will you ever learn?” That was it! Ten words in all. I counted them. She didn’t even ask for details. Wouldn’t you think she’d want to know all the gory details, Mags? Any normal woman would.’
‘No chummy advice on relationships, no anguished cries of motherly outrage? No hugs and kisses, even?’
‘Nope. Not a sausage. Same old Charlotte, dry-eyed and cynical to the bitter end. She simply went on folding the jeans and setting out new shoes and handbags on the shelves as if I’d told her I’d broken a fingernail.’
‘Oh, Julie. I’m so sorry.’
‘Well, I didn’t expect her to be shocked or even mildly upset. But you’d think she could have faked a bit of sympathy for me, couldn’t she? Jesus! I mean, she makes chit-chat all day long to her customers, talking about all the events they’re going to and coming from. Why doesn’t she love me, Mags? Why doesn’t she love me the way you love your children? Was it my father’s fault, do you think? Did he make her so detached? Or was she born that way? Odd as a fish? Is that why she didn’t leave him when it all went pear-shaped?’
‘I don’t know, Julie. I’d say it’s all so long ago now, she’d need therapy to find out. And maybe it would only make her worse? You know, to think she wasted her life because of religion and keeping up appearances? I’m undecided on the therapy debate, to be honest with you. With some people, there’s a lot to be said for sticking their head in the sand and just getting on with life. I think Charlotte is one of those people.’
‘Maybe she is.’
‘Is that why you went so crazy for Jay O’Hanlon, though? Because he made you feel loved? Because he was so over the top you couldn’t ignore him?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘And what about Gary Devine? Didn’t he make you feel cherished? He did propose to you, remember?’
‘Yes, he did, but I didn’t realize in time how nice he was. I think I took him for granted as well. He’s moved on, by the way.’
‘Did you try to make it up with him?’ I asked her, astonished. That was very brave, I thought to myself.
‘No, I didn’t go over there or anything. I just wanted to apologize for all the hurt I caused him. I called him for a chat. But he told me he’s met a new girl. A paramedic nurse from when he br
oke his leg on the way to Galway. They’ve been out on a few dates. She’s only twenty-five.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry, Julie. Are you bothered?’
‘I don’t know, Mags. I wanted to be with Jay more than I ever wanted to be with Gary so maybe I didn’t love Gary enough anyway? I still don’t understand what went wrong between Gary and me. So that’s the end of it, I suppose.’
‘Oh, Julie,’ I said sadly. ‘Never mind. Think of this as a new chapter in your life. A clean slate and you can start all over again. You have your friends, still.’
‘Yes,’ she said then, a familiar smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. ‘Yes, I suppose I do. That’s what I came to tell you, actually. The girls are taking me away for a little holiday. Couple of weeks in the sun somewhere. Bit of shopping, some decent food.’
‘Well, that’s nice. Where are you going, exactly? Italy? Spain?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ she said, and it seemed to me her face was flushing slightly. ‘I think they said something about Paris.’
‘Oh, my God, Julie Sultana!’
‘What?’
‘What do you think? Isn’t Paris where Jay O’Hanlon hangs out these days? With our old mucker, Bigfoot?’
‘I really wouldn’t have a clue, Mags. They could be anywhere, for all I care.’
‘Julie, you are telling me the truth, aren’t you? Because I’d hate for you to get into any more trouble over that guy. He’s so not worth it.’
‘Let me see, Mags. What’s the toy-boy-related tally of damage so far? My beautiful apartment trashed by Gary. Gary’s leg broken and his car written off. Your husband almost killed and his car written off too, you and your kids traumatized, the reputation of Dream Weddings in the balance, me nearly choking that so-called model to death in her own wedding cake. I could have been arrested, never mind that middle-aged pillock in his stupid red coat. And I’ve been banned from the lovely spa in Galway for life. And it was so nice and warm too. I hate a cold spa. But, anyway, I think I’ve caused enough trouble, Mags, and suffered enough for that particular young man. Don’t you?’
‘Okay, I get the message.’
‘Good.’
‘It was a fling, Mags, nothing more. A fling that got out of hand.’
‘Yes, but you did seem awfully upset when you saw them together that day. I’ve never seen you so mad in the entire fourteen years I’ve known you.’
‘Mags, one last word about that little drama and then we really will forget about it: I was under a lot of stress, as you may recall. Our biggest commission ever, we could have been in all the magazines. We could have been world famous and dealing only with millionaires from now on instead of ordinary people.’
‘Julie!’
‘Though, of course, there’s nothing wrong with ordinary people but you know what I mean. I mean, it would have been nice to work without monetary constraints for a change, and we could’ve put our prices up and taken on fewer gigs. But Jay spoilt our big moment with his wandering eye, and the rest of it. No, I’ve learned my lesson. No more mixing business with pleasure for me, Mags.’
‘Okay, okay! So, tell me about this great trip of yours, then,’ I said. ‘When do you leave?’
‘In a couple of days. We’ll see the sights, obviously. Do some shopping, take in a show and, needless to say, we’ll get blind drunk every night.’
‘Be careful, Julie,’ I said. ‘Don’t get too drunk, sure you won’t? And don’t leave your drinks unattended if you’re in a disco or club of any kind. Same rules apply the world over, like I said to Alicia-Rose. Take it in turns to mind the drinks. Tourists are easy pickings for some criminals.’
‘Mags Grimsdale, you never change. Always playing the mother duck.’
‘Mother hen.’
‘Oh, yeah. But don’t be worrying about me, Mags. The Coven will look after me.’
‘Um, we’ll see about that,’ I mumbled doubtfully. Thinking of the military jacket they’d bought for Jay. I wondered where the jacket was now but I didn’t dare ask Julie.
‘I nearly forgot!’ Julie said then. ‘I nearly forgot to give you a little something for your Alexander. For his girlfriend, actually.’
‘Emma?’
‘Yes, Emma. Here it is,’ she said and she took a small box out of her handbag and set it on the counter between us. Gorgeous little pale-blue velvet box, all done up in curly ribbons.
‘Crikey, Julie, that looks like a good-quality jewellery box of some kind. I hope you haven’t spent too much money on it?’
‘Oh, now! Never you mind what it cost. It’s a lovely diamond pendant.’
‘A diamond? Emma will be delighted.’
‘I got a white diamond so it’d match anything she’ll be wearing.’
‘Gosh, Julie, that’s so lovely of you. I’m sure she’ll love it. They didn’t buy a diamond engagement ring, you see.’
‘Yes, well, I know they didn’t and we can’t have that! Now, I’m sorry I can’t be there on the day, Mags, but I’ll be in Paris by the time the vows are read out.’
‘Staying out of trouble, I hope?’ I said, pointing my finger at her like a Mother Superior and giving her my sternest expression.
‘Maybe. We’ll have to wait and see,’ said Julie and she laughed her head off.
I couldn’t decide, as we polished off the sandwiches, the rest of the tea and half an almond cake, if she was really back to normal or not. Back to the same old Julie we all knew and loved. Or if she’d ever been normal to begin with. But she did seem to have got a relative grip on things at any rate. She said she was going to enjoy herself in Paris for a bit and then come home to Belfast all refreshed and ready to begin house-hunting for a place to live. And back to the grindstone at Dream Weddings, of course. We had a lot of ground to gain back.
‘It’ll be you and me once again, sitting at our desks, Mags. Scoffing M&S sarnies and making funny faces at the customers when they’re warbling on, on the telephone.’
I took a deep breath and thought of Bill struggling to stand up in the hospital. He was going to need an awful lot of love and support before he was back on his feet.
‘Listen, Julie,’ I said, ‘I feel it’s only fair to tell you that I’m thinking of going part-time until Bill gets better. Just thinking about it at the moment. But I’m quite serious, all the same.’
‘Oh, now, Mags,’ Julie said slowly, and suddenly I knew why she’d bought me such a whopper of a bouquet. Not to mention the expensive diamond pendant for Emma. ‘I’m sure Bill won’t want you flapping about and fussing over him like he’s some sort of invalid. He’ll be fine, my dear – he’s a very strong man. And I’m relying on you to keep our little ship afloat while I’m away in Paris.’
‘Julie Sultana, you never change! I thought you said I could have some time off?’
‘Yes, but that was before I knew about this trip. Sorry! Oh, it’s not as bad as you think, Mags. Hear me out. First, I’m giving you a pay rise, a big one. And you deserve it, it’s not a bribe.’
‘Keep talking.’
‘And I’m giving you authority to make bigger decisions without asking me first. And I’m giving you a travel allowance for any taxis you might have to take in the course of business. And I’ve checked our schedule for the next two weeks while I’m away. You won’t have to go to any weddings or clients’ houses on your own.’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Terrific! Just answer the phone and start thinking of new ideas for fantasy weddings. ’Tis an ill wind and all that – all the secrecy surrounding that godforsaken wedding has driven the punters wild. They’re all desperate to have an OTT bash in a dramatic location. Maybe the recent bats-in-the-belfry event is going to pay off, after all.’
‘I’ll be lonely in the lighthouse without you, though, Julie. I don’t know if I fancy two weeks with nothing but the seagulls to keep me company. I’m still feeling pretty shaken, you know.’
‘Of course you are. Which is why I’ve patched our phone number
through to this house for the time being.’
‘Julie! You’re incorrigible.’
‘Well, isn’t that the best idea? You can answer the phone if you’re not busy or you can switch on the answerphone and get back to them later. Okay? So you can still babysit your gorgeous husband, and everybody’s happy!’
She fished the Dream Weddings’ order book out of her big handbag and laid it gently on the counter.
‘You did say you were bored,’ she reminded me.
‘Did I? Go on, then. I suppose it’ll be all right,’ I sighed.
‘Of course it will, Mags. It’ll be tip-top. Now, I’ve got to go shopping for some new clothes to take away on my trip and I’m sure you’ve got things to do around here for Bill coming home, so I’ll be off. And do have a super day at Alexander’s wedding. I hope Bill will be able to make it.’
‘Try stopping him!’
‘Okay, great stuff! Love to all! Cheerio!’
And she was gone out of the front door. Leaving a trail of spicy perfume behind her. I looked at the exotic pink flowers sitting majestically in the good room, and I thought of my father and reminded myself that life was very short and we should all make the most of it.
‘Have a ball in Paris, Julie Sultana,’ I said to the pink flowers.
And she did.
That’s where she met Henri.
Apparently, Julie was sitting in a dark and shadowy little café on her own, on the last day of her holiday. Just having a private moment to herself (she was crying, to tell you the truth, and she didn’t want the Coven to see). So there she was, softly weeping behind a newspaper, when she spied this handsome man staring at her from another table. And get this, he was crying too! It was a meeting of minds, Julie said. A meeting of lost souls. So she smiled at him and nodded hello. And this gorgeous guy got up from his seat and came over to join her, and wouldn’t you know it, even though he was French, he spoke perfect English. So they got talking and Julie told him she was getting over a broken heart and that coming to beautiful Par-ee had only reminded her of what she’d lost. And then Henri (he’d introduced himself by then) told Julie he was on his own too. After his girlfriend of five years had left him and gone back to her ex, taking their two children with her. I mean, the two children she’d had with her ex. So Henri hadn’t just lost his lady-love, he’d lost the two children as well. He was completely devastated, as you can imagine.
