My Sister's Wedding: For better or worse, two families are about to become one . . .

by Vicky Pattison

  She scrolled down to the comments section and noticed that the majority of the comments were from women wishing they had Rebecca’s body, praising how elegant she looked after a workout, and how they loved the way she had tied up her T-shirt and where could they buy the same one. It was sickening.

  Nicole threw her phone down in disgust. She worked out all of the time and the Daily World had never complimented her body. It was so unfair.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Seffy said, looking at her phone. She was waiting for a response from Daniel. She’d been texting with him often lately, but no matter how many times she tried to lead the conversation down a sexy road, Daniel just wasn’t responding in anything other than a friendly, almost brotherly, way. It was infuriating and Seffy was beginning to feel desperate. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that she was the one who ought to be marrying Daniel. Maybe I’ll send him a lingerie picture later, she thought, then he won’t be able to ignore my intentions any longer.

  ‘Clearly Rebecca is smarter than we first thought.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Seffy responded, her thoughts still firmly on Daniel.

  ‘No, not smarter, sneakier. I mean, I can keep Martin on the case – there’s still a chance she’ll let the Miss Goody-Two-Shoes act drop. But in the meantime, we need a back-up plan.’

  At this Seffy looked up and held up her phone. ‘Daniel and I are texting.’

  Nicole rolled her eyes. ‘I know, but we need to act faster than this. It’s taking too long. My brother is blinded by what he thinks is love. Rebecca’s gaining popularity and I’ve hardly been in the news at all the past couple of weeks. My likes on Instagram have dropped massively. It’s all just too much.’ Nicole laid her head on the side of the Chesterfield sofa in a melodramatic way.

  Seffy frowned. She thought that this was about saving Daniel from a marriage that wasn’t right for him, not some kind of fame and popularity competition.

  ‘And you want your brother to be happy, too, right?’ Seffy prompted, her stomach in knots at the mere thought of questioning Nicole. She wouldn’t ordinarily, but she felt like she had a duty to Daniel too now.

  Nicole nodded her head. ‘Of course. Daniel’s happiness is what’s most important to me. And to Mum. And to Dad. And to everyone.’

  Placated, Seffy smiled and remembered something. ‘Speaking of Instagram,’ she said, ‘I heard that Rebecca’s chavvy little sister is on there. Quite popular, apparently.’

  ‘Ugh. Really?’ Nicole picked her phone up and clicked onto Instagram. ‘What even for? What does she post about? Chips and mushy peas? Smirnoff Ice? Argos?’

  Seffy giggled. ‘Probably. I’ve never looked.’ She picked her phone up and started searching for Lizzie’s profile too.

  It didn’t take them long to find it. Seffy had to admit that the photos were impressive. Seffy had studied Art History at Cambridge and she could see that Lizzie had a real eye for composition. She didn’t say this out loud to Nicole, of course. She was so absorbed in admiring Lizzie’s work that she almost jumped out of her skin when Nicole screamed, ‘No fucking way!’

  ‘What?’ Seffy exclaimed. ‘What is it?’

  Nicole burst into vicious laughter. ‘It’s Justin. Baby Ashworth has two pictures of Justin on here.’

  Seffy scrolled through to catch up. ‘Your Justin?’

  Nicole nodded. ‘Yep. One of him with the band and one with that dumb dog he dotes on.’

  ‘I wonder how she knows him?’ Seffy mused.

  A Cheshire cat of a smile spread across Nicole’s face. ‘Let’s find out, shall we?’ She pulled up a number on her phone and pressed dial.

  ‘Justin, baby?’ she drawled after a few seconds. ‘I’m missing you. How do you fancy a weekend in the countryside?’

  Another pause and then, ‘Great. I’ll text you the details. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.’

  Nicole hung up and Seffy gave her an astonished look. ‘He’s coming? Just like that? With no notice at all?’

  Nicole laughed. ‘What can I say – he’s addicted to me. And I think he’s finally about to come in very useful indeed . . . ’

  An hour and a half later, one of the housekeepers at Terringham Hall led Justin into the den. It was a huge and grand room, with nothing cosy about it at all. The wooden floors were covered with Persian rugs, the high walls adorned with tasteless and expensive portraits of every Balfour from each generation. For a room so big, it was claustrophobic and cluttered – it had a real museum vibe going on. Nicole and Seffy were sprawled across an antique Chesterfield each. When Justin walked in Nicole jumped up, champagne still in hand, and dashed over to him, kissing him on his stubbled cheek. Anticipating his arrival, she’d changed into the kind of clothes that she knew made her look irresistible and innocent in equal measure – soft, worn boyfriend jeans and a pale blue sheer sweater that hung down a little too long past her tiny wrists. She’d pulled her hair back into a perfectly messy top knot, spent forty-five minutes enhancing her face with natural-look make-up and she’d topped it off with a spritz of her signature scent – a powdery floral fragrance that had been mixed especially for her at an artisanal perfumery in Paris’s Le Marais district. When she looked like this, men generally did anything she asked of them.

  And she was planning to ask rather a lot of Justin.

  ‘It’s so good to see you!’ Nicole breathed, pulling back to take in her ex-boyfriend.

  ‘Is it?’ Justin smiled, slightly unsure. He looked like the kind of man who was never unsure when it came to women but Nicole knew he had a weak spot as far as she was concerned and she wasn’t above using it to her advantage.

  ‘Of course it is!’ she said, appraising him and thinking that he really was looking rather sexy today. He was wearing a black linen shirt and a pair of what looked suspiciously like new ripped jeans. Maybe I don’t need to keep this strictly all work, Nicole thought to herself. After all, all work and no play makes Nicole a very dull girl.

  Seffy approached them with a bottle of champagne. She handed the bottle to Justin.

  ‘Rock stars drink it straight from the bottle, right?’ she giggled. She was well on her way to being drunk but she was still acutely aware of the instructions that Nicole had given her: to keep Justin topped up with booze and relaxed.

  Justin took the bottle gratefully and slugged it back. When one of the housekeepers entered to offer them food, both the women said no but Justin asked for a burger, and Nicole and Seffy smiled at him indulgently. The three of them made small talk while Justin ate but as soon as he was finished and Nicole gave her the signal, Seffy excused herself. ‘I have a little something I have to do, I’ll be back soon!’

  As she left the den Justin noticed that she’d started unbuttoning her shirt. Weird.

  Nicole patted the space on the sofa beside her. Justin moved next to her, their thighs touching. He was getting ready to move in when, to his surprise, Nicole burst into tears.

  Justin was horrified. He’d never seen Nicole cry before.

  ‘Babe, what is it? What’s wrong?’ he said, stroking her hair.

  Nicole wiped the delicate tears from under her eyes. God, she even looks beautiful when she’s crying, Justin thought.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just being silly,’ Nicole said softly before bursting into another round of anguished sobs. ‘I’m just— I’m so worried.’

  Justin put his arm around her and pulled her close. ‘Nicole, tell me. You can tell me anything.’

  Nicole looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘It’s my . . . it’s my brother,’ she said hesitantly.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘You know he’s getting married?’ She waited for Justin to nod before carrying on. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s making a terrible mistake.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Just . . . this is so vulgar to say out loud . . . but I think she might only be with him for his money. She treats him so badly and I’m worried he’s going to be unhappy for the rest of his life.’


  ‘Shit.’ Justin says. He had never met Nicole’s brother but from what he could gather he was a decent guy. He worked hard, loved Nicole and his parents and hadn’t left a string of broken hearts in his wake, as far as Justin knew. ‘Have you talked to him about this?’

  Nicole shook her head, the tiny diamond drops hanging from her ears sparkling in the light. ‘How can I? He doesn’t see what she’s really like. He thinks she’s amazing. The whole world thinks she’s amazing. But she’s not a good person. I know it. But . . . he won’t listen to me without concrete proof.’

  Justin squeezed Nicole tighter in sympathy. ‘Your brother’s a grown man. I’m sure he’ll be okay, Nic. Try not to worry.’

  Nicole let out another sob and moved away from Justin. ‘See! That’s why I didn’t tell you! You don’t believe me. You think I’m being silly, but I’m not! There’s no one I can talk to about this and I really thought I could trust you.’

  Justin, partly to comfort her and partly to be close to her again, scooted up next to her. ‘I’m sorry. Of course you can trust me. Please don’t cry.’

  Nicole buried her head into Justin’s shoulder. ‘You promise?’ Justin nodded. ‘I just don’t know what to do. He’s my brother. I don’t want to lose him but I can’t stand by and do nothing either.’

  Justin lifted her chin with his finger and looked her straight in the eye. Nicole seemed so icy to so many people, but inside she was soft and kind. Her charity work, her concern for her brother – there was more to her than she let most people see. He saw the side of her that no one else got to see, and he felt so close to her, so honoured that she’d come to him with this. Poor Nicole. She was in pieces. Justin hated to see anyone in pain, least of all Nicole. He needed to help her.

  ‘I wish there was something I could do to help you feel better,’ he said, stroking her soft, shiny hair.

  Nicole took a deep breath, touched his chest softly and looked up at him with hope in her eyes. ‘Well . . . M-maybe there’s a way you can . . . ’

  ‘Anything.’ Justin said quickly. ‘Tell me what it is and I’ll do it.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lizzie

  I’m at the park again. This is becoming a regular occurrence. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad. It’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon and Jay just turned up at the flat with a guy he met at work. To be fair I did tell Jay I’d be out job hunting, but I didn’t go in the end. Instead, I was hiding from the world and watching a re-run of Catchphrase on Challenge TV. So Jay didn’t expect me to be there when he burst through the door tonguing a man who had only come into the shop to buy a new belt, which Jay was making quick work on unbuckling. Needless to say I left quickly. I have a feeling they would’ve carried on regardless and I was in no mood for that private show.

  I’ve already been to a café and I managed to make my cappuccino last for nearly an hour. I would’ve just bought a second cup but I don’t have the cash to spare right now. I left after the girl behind the counter started giving me funny looks for taking such tiny slurps. I contemplated going to a museum but then I realised I’m not that bored. And so I found myself back in the park, like the park creep I am. It’s pretty weather so it’s quite relaxing to sit on one of the benches and idly flip through my Instagram. I laugh in surprise when I notice that I’m only three people away from hitting 5,000 followers! Shit. If only I could Instagram for a job.

  Feeling a pang of hunger, I leave the bench and wander to the newsagent’s to treat myself to a Snickers and some pickled onion Monster Munch. Jay is on one of his health kicks and so the only foods available in his flat are kale and carrots and coconut water, none of which interest me in the slightest – I’m not even sure what kale is. I wander back to the park, happily munching on my snacks, and amble past one of the pretty flowerbeds. I’m just about to pull my phone out when I feel something butt against the back of my calf.

  ‘What the . . . ?’ I jump in fright. Spinning round, I see Good Boy brushing his wet nose against my leg. I laugh. ‘Hello, Good Boy!’ I say, crouching down to stroke behind his floppy ears, and he starts licking my entire face with his very stinky tongue.

  ‘Good Boy! Leave Lizzie alone!’ I hear Justin’s voice from above me. Scrambling away from the dog, I wipe my face and stand up with a sheepish grin.

  ‘You were right about that halitosis!’ I say with an amused grimace, embarrassed I have dog slobber all over me. At least it might cover my pickled onion breath, I reason. I notice Justin looking down at my Monster Munch. ‘Oh! You want one?’ I offer him the packet. ‘Pickled onion flavour.’

  Justin looks intrigued. ‘We don’t have those in the States.’ He leans down and gives my crisp packet a sniff.

  ‘You’ve never had Monster Munch?’ I ask in astonishment. ‘You haven’t lived!’

  Justin chuckles and reaches into the bag. ‘Well, that’s a pretty big claim.’ He bites down on the Monster Munch and his eyes widen. ‘Holy shit,’ he says with a groan. ‘They’re incredible.’ He reaches in for another two. ‘God,’ he says, mouth full. ‘They’re like crack.’

  ‘Right?’ I say. ‘You should try the roast beef flavour ones. They’ll blow your mind.’

  ‘Mmm. I’ll add it to the list.’

  Without realising, we’ve started walking along the park together. Good Boy meanders in front of us, sniffing and peeing and sniffing and turning back to check that we’re still here.

  ‘Don’t you have a job?’ I ask Justin. ‘In the park on a weekday afternoon?’ Hypocrite, I think.

  Justin shakes his head. ‘I don’t have an office job or anything like that. I’m in a band, actually.’ He turns slightly red as he says it.

  I turn red, too. Of course I know he’s in a band. I have a picture of him at one of his concerts which, incidentally, I deleted last night just in case he found it and thought it was creepy. But I thought it was something he did outside a full-time job. That’s usually the case until a band get a record deal. And The New Design don’t have a record deal. At least not yet.

  Okay, I admit it. I googled him. Three times in the past week. I found out his surname is De Luca. I might have googled ‘Justin De Luca nude’. I didn’t find anything, though. I found some interesting gay porn sites, but no picture of this Justin in the buff. This ‘no work’ thing is turning me into a major creep.

  ‘A band? That’s cool!’ I say casually, like someone who hasn’t googled him numerous times and doesn’t stream his music on Soundcloud on a regular basis, has seen him live AND had a sexy dream about him. ‘What kind of band? Like, um, an orchestra?’

  All right, Lizzie, don’t push it.

  ‘No,’ Justin responds, missing my lies. ‘It’s sort of indie rock. But a little darker. A touch of punk. But not crazy.’

  ‘Succinct pitch,’ I tease as we approach the park’s duck pond.

  ‘I know,’ Justin laughs his sexy laugh and I almost lose my footing. ‘It’s hard to describe.’

  Of course I know exactly how to describe his music. Filthy sexy indie blues. But of course I don’t say that. I just nod, trying to keep my mad stalker vibes under wraps.

  ‘Here,’ Justin says, reaching into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulling out a tangled mess of headphones. He puts the jack into his phone and hands me one of the earbuds. He doesn’t untangle the headphones, so when he takes the other earbud, our heads are so close together they’re almost touching.

  I fight the urge to lick him like Good Boy just licked me. I resist because of the Monster Munch I’ve just eaten; my breath is probably almost as bad as the dog’s. And also because it would be a strong psycho move.

  He taps at his phone and the big, gruff guitar strains burst out. I know this song. I know this song because it’s my favourite song of theirs. It takes all my self-control not to sing along to Justin’s moody vocals and reveal the truth that I’m lowkey a huge fangirl.

  When the song has finished, I pull out the earbud and hand it back.

  �
�God, that’s a good song,’ I say truthfully.

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Oh yeah – the syncopated beat, those gruff vocals. I love how the bass is so heavy in the mix so it feels like it’s thumping in time with your heart. It’s brilliant.’

  Justin raises an eyebrow and I can tell that I’ve just impressed him with my knowledge.

  ‘Yeah,’ he says with a smile. ‘That’s exactly what we were going for.’

  We continue walking the circumference of the duck pond, chuckling as Good Boy races into a patch of grass, scaring off a lone duck with a joyful bark.

  ‘So . . . ’ Justin says once we’ve done a full circuit. ‘What do you do? Why are you in a park in the middle of the afternoon?’ He bats my question back to me.

  Oh, God. I don’t want to tell him I’m jobless. I like that he appears to know nothing about me, has no preconceptions about who I am. But unemployed isn’t exactly sexy. Not that he cares whether I’m sexy or not, seeing as he’s still hung up on his ex. But still.

  ‘I’m a dog walker,’ I lie.

  Again.

  Why do I keep telling people I’m a dog walker? I’ve never walked a dog in my life!

  ‘Cool!’ Justin says with a smile. ‘No wonder Good Boy likes you so much!’

  I shrug as if I’m being modest, but mostly I’m not sure what to say. Who knew lying about dog walking would be so addictive? And who knew it would have so many pitfalls? I need to change the subject.

  ‘Did you manage to convince your ex to give you another shot?’ I ask, which comes out much more bluntly than intended.

  Justin blinks, slightly taken aback. ‘Uh . . . I’ve . . . decided to leave that chapter of my life behind.’