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

by Vicky Pattison

  ‘Hold tight, lass. I’m on my way.’

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Lizzie

  I let myself in to Jay’s flat, hoping to find him there – I need someone, anyone to talk to, and I can’t call Bex. But he’s not there. I pull out my phone and see five unread text messages from Justin. I ignore all of them and dial my mum’s number.

  This number is currently unavailable. Please hang up and try again later.

  That’s weird. I try again, but I get the same message. Something must be wrong with her phone. Still sobbing, I change into a pair of pyjamas and feel a leap of relief when the door opens and Jay strolls in.

  ‘Jay . . . ’ I start before dissolving into a fresh round of sobs. Jay rushes over and sits next to me.

  ‘Babe! What’s the matter?’

  ‘Justiiiin . . . ’ I manage, ‘Bex . . . fight . . . Nicole Balfour . . . ’

  ‘Stop crying, Lizzie,’ Jay says in a firm, but kind tone. ‘You’re not making any sense. Besides, your face is going blotchy. It looks unpleasant.’

  I laugh despite myself and it’s enough to stop the flow of tears, at least temporarily.

  ‘Now, tell me what the hell is going on.’

  In between shaky breaths, I tell Jay about my fight with Bex, and Justin’s betrayal. When I’ve finished, he hands me a clean tissue and gives me the nod to start crying again. Which I promptly do.

  ‘This all happened today?’ Jay says. ‘Christ, you’ve been busy! I didn’t even leave you alone for that long!’

  ‘Justin said he was falling for me,’ I say. ‘It makes it all worse. He couldn’t stop lying, even at the very end.’

  ‘And you’re sure he was lying?’ Jay asks gently.

  ‘Of course he was lying! I’ll never believe another word that comes out of his mouth.’ I shake my head. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway because I’m never going to see him again.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ Jay soothes, pulling me in for a hug. ‘It’s like that film, though, She’s All That. Remember? Freddie Prinze Jr has to date Laney Boggs, the nerdiest girl in school, but then he falls for her and she finds out it started as a bet and she’s furious and won’t speak to him.’

  ‘This isn’t a film,’ I say. ‘It’s not the same.’

  ‘My point is that they got over it and found their happy ending, that’s all I’m saying. People sometimes don’t meet in the best way. Maybe Justin just made a mistake like Freddie Prinze Jr.’

  ‘This is real life!’ I say. ‘Stop comparing it to some shit nineties film!’

  ‘All right, I’ll stop. But don’t ever refer to She’s All That as a “shit nineties film” again or I shall skin you. It’s a classic and Freddie is resplendent.’ He turns to me then, his face serious. ‘You’re going to get over this, okay? You’ve done it before, you’ll do it again.’

  I take a deep breath. He’s right. I will get over it. People do. And I will.

  ‘What about Bex?’ I ask. ‘How am I going to fix that?’

  ‘That will need time. But she’s your sister and she loves you. She will forgive you, but for now, you must wallow. It’s the done thing.’

  ‘I don’t think I have a choice,’ I say. ‘I feel like shit.’ I stare forlornly at my phone. More missed calls and two more texts from Justin. ‘Fuck. Why did this have to happen?’

  Jay gently takes the phone out of my hands. ‘I’ll take that for now,’ he says, his eyes full of sympathy. ‘I’m going to mix us some drinks, we’re going to drink those, then we’re going to binge on Doritos and fudge and then you’re going to go to sleep because this day needs to be over! Everything always seems better in the morning.’

  I nod, stand up and give him a hug. He’s right. Things always seem better in the morning.

  Things are not better in the morning. They are worse. They are so, so much worse. I didn’t think it was humanly possible to feel any more wretched than I did last night but I do, because when Jay wakes me at about 11.30 a.m. and hands me a copy of the Daily World with a shell-shocked look on his face, the small parts of my world that were still intact come crashing down.

  Oh. Shit.

  They know everything that’s been going on since Daniel and Bex got engaged. How did they find out about all this stuff? They refer to me as ‘troubled’, which is bad enough, but they’ve gone to town on Bex, tearing her to shreds and calling her fake, a social climber, selfish. What the hell? This is nuts.

  I need to speak to my sister, I need to make sure she’s OK. I reach for my phone and remember that Jay has it. I’m about to call out to him when a couple of words leap out at me and an alarm starts going off somewhere in the back of my brain. What is it? I re-read the article and realise there’s something very familiar about the words on the page. Some of the phrasing is almost word for word what I said to Mum yesterday.

  ‘A source very close to the Ashworths said they believe Nicole Balfour to be a vicious, entitled princess, the perfect evil stepsister in the making,’ I murmur.

  A vicious, entitled princess.

  I said those words. Yesterday. To my mum. In between all the tears and hugs, when I was pouring my heart out to her.

  She wouldn’t . . . she wouldn’t sell a story to the paper. No. No way.

  Would she?

  NO. Mums don’t do that.

  But mums don’t walk out on their two young kids either.

  I think back over the time we’ve spent together, and I remember the way she looked after me yesterday and tucked me into bed. Nobody could be that callous . . .

  Wordlessly I walk into Jay’s bedroom, hand the newspaper back to him and say, ‘Can I have my phone back, please?’

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asks.

  ‘No. Can I have my phone back, please?’

  Jay just nods, getting the message that this is not the time to ask questions. He hands me back my phone.

  I ignore the mountain of missed calls and texts – not just from Justin this time, there are dozens, all from numbers I don’t recognise – and dial Tracy’s number again.

  This number is currently unavailable. Please hang up and try again later.

  It can’t be . . . She wouldn’t have.

  My heart thuds in my chest. I’m so tired of all of this. I can’t be in London right now.

  ‘I—I need to go home,’ I mumble.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jay asks frowning. ‘You are home.’

  I need comfort and familiarity. I need home.

  ‘Home to Leeds. I want my dad.’

  It takes me about three and a half hours to get from London to Leeds on the train. I didn’t even pack properly, just shoved some random things in my backpack and set off as soon as I was dressed in my old disguise of cap and sunglasses. I didn’t have enough money for the ticket, of course, but Jay paid for it online for me and I collected it at the station.

  I spend the whole journey staring out of the window, trying very hard not to think about everything terrible that’s happening and being able to think of nothing but everything terrible that’s happening. I can’t concentrate properly and I just spend the whole journey in a sort of daze. By the time the train pulls into Leeds station, I’ve gone through every possibility in my head and I keep coming back to the same conclusion: Tracy sold me out. First Justin, then Tracy. I must have ‘mug’ tattooed on my forehead.

  I trudge along the streets towards the bus stop that will take me to Rawdon, the village I grew up and where my dad still lives. The soft lilt of northern accents surrounds me and a quiet sense of relief envelops me. I never fully realise how much I miss the north until I’m back up here. And then the smells, the air and the noise and that very particular northern light that shines down on the honey-coloured bricks always comforts me. I’m glad to be here right now.

  I didn’t even call Dad to let him know I was coming back. I could only focus on getting the train. I don’t think he’ll mind me just rocking up unannounced, though.

  I get off at the appropriate bus stop and start w
alking in the direction of our house. As I approach Langton Road I notice that there are a few people milling around the front of our semi. I peek over the top of my sunglasses and realise most of the people are carrying cameras. They must be paps. I don’t believe it. Can’t they leave my dad alone? He won’t tell them anything. The only thing they’ll get from him is a tyre change.

  I can’t let the paps see me otherwise all hell will break lose. I quickly hurry around the ramshackle alleyway to the back of the street and let myself into Dad’s garden. I knock on the back door, but don’t really expect an answer because Dad always has the telly up so loud that he never hears when there’s a knock anyway. I dig through my purse, pull out my keys and unlock the back door. I walk through the kitchen and then wander into the living room. ‘Dad?’ I call as I open the door. ‘Hellooo, anyone home?’

  ‘Liz Wiz!’ Dad yells, standing up from his armchair with a massive beaming grin on his face. He pulls me into a bear hug and almost lifts me off my feet. When he finally lets me go I realise there are two other people in the living room.

  I don’t recognise one of the women. She’s petite and blonde, with kindly blue eyes. This must be Dad’s new girlfriend, Jill.

  The other person has eyes I know as well as my own, and they aren’t looking so pleased to see me. I’d say shock and hurt were probably better descriptions of what I’m greeted with.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Bex asks, folding her arms across her chest.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Things were looking good for Nicole. She had talked to her father and he’d agreed to speak to the board about her presenting them her pitch on taking over Daniel’s place at Balfour Industries. Rupert had needed some convincing – his opinion on women in business was predictable – but she had won him round by making him realise that having one Balfour child in the company was better than having none, and Rupert wanted to keep his darling daughter happy so he’d agreed.

  Nicole had tried calling Daniel last night to ask for some tips for her presentation, but he hadn’t answered his phone. She’d texted him too and she could see that he’d read the messages but there’d been no reply.

  Nicole felt a slight dart of guilt, but it soon disappeared. Daniel will get over all this, she thought. The best thing for him is for that piece of northern trash to disappear from his life for good. He’d be able to focus on his studies, which seemed to be something he really wanted. He’d be fine. People get over relationships all the time! He’d meet someone else and move on.

  Nicole got up from her soft, dusky cream sofa and wandered across the living room to peer out of the window of her Chelsea flat. It was early morning and she stretched her long limbs, admiring the view of the rooftops of multi-millionpound houses glowing as the sun rose. She moved towards the kitchen, unlocking her phone and pulling up the stupid text Justin had sent to her late last night.

  Never contact me again. Every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie and I’m done with you. And leave Lizzie and the rest of her family alone. You’ve done enough damage – I hope one day karma catches up with you.

  She laughed at his sense of self-worth, but it came out more hollow than she intended. She didn’t care about Justin anyway. The idiot had fallen for that chav, by the sounds of it. Let her have him. She didn’t want him any more. She’d got what she wanted. She was beautiful, about to get a seat at the table of one of the country’s most successful companies, her social following was on the rise, the press adored her and she lived in a trendy Chelsea flat that she didn’t have to pay for. She didn’t need Justin to like her. She didn’t even need Daniel to like her. She finally had her parents’ attention and they were giving her the respect she’d always deserved. And anyway, she still had good old reliable Seffy to play wing woman if Nicole ever got an itch that needed scratching. And it was fun to have someone so amenable around to do her bidding when necessary, like bringing her a latte from her favourite artisan coffee shop, which Seffy was on her way to do right now.

  Fifteen minutes later, Nicole opened the door to find Seffy standing there, clutching a coffee cup in one hand and a copy of the Daily World in the other. She handed both to Nicole and hurried inside. ‘I saw the paper outside the newsagents at the end of the road. I thought you should see it. I’m afraid it’s not good.’

  What was Seffy blathering on about now? Nicole flounced back onto her sofa and began reading, her carefree attitude waning with every word she read.

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘No, no no! Who’s this source? I’ll kill them!’

  ‘I know, it’s awful.’ Seffy said, shaking her head. ‘Poor Daniel. It’s all such a mess.’

  Nicole’s head flicked up, her eyes glinting angrily. ‘I’m not talking about Daniel,’ she spluttered. ‘This is going to look terrible for me! I’m presenting in front of the board next week. How are they going to take me seriously once they read about me being a . . . ’ – she found the line she was looking for – ‘ . . .vicious, entitled princess?’ She threw the paper down in fury. ‘Daniel is finally out of the picture and now this rag is making me out to be—’

  ‘What do you mean, Daniel is finally out of the picture?’ Seffy interrupted.

  Nicole caught herself. ‘Oh, never mind that.’

  Seffy sighed and looked over at the inky picture of Daniel looking sad walking along the street with his coffee cup.

  ‘He looks so upset. We need to help him.’

  This was too much for Nicole. Why wasn’t Seffy more concerned about her best friend? All she cared about was Daniel – just like everyone else! Daniel the great! Daniel the golden child! Daniel the most eligible bachelor! Daniel the fucking favourite!

  ‘Seffy, please just shut up about Daniel! I’m sick of hearing you talk about him. It’s pathetic.’

  Seffy gasped. ‘I’m his friend too, Nicole. I’m only looking out for him. Maybe we shouldn’t have messed about with his relationship. I love him and I want to be with him but I love him too much to see him hurt like this. Look at his sad face!’

  Nicole burst into peals of sharp laughter. ‘You love him, do you? You complete idiot. He couldn’t care less about you!’ Her face grew red with annoyance. ‘I saw the pictures you sent him after you said you’d stopped. You know, the nude ones? Rebecca saw them too. Talk about tacky. And desperate. He thinks you’re deranged, by the way. He finds you embarrassing. He thinks you’re an embarrassment, Seffy, and so do I!’

  Seffy swallowed hard, her hands trembling. Her face flushed with mortification at the thought of everyone seeing her intimate pictures. They had been for Daniel’s eyes only.

  ‘Daniel showed you those photos?’ she asked.

  Nicole shook her head and laughed. ‘Rebecca found them in the deleted folder on his phone. He deleted them as soon as you sent them – that’s how uninterested he was. He couldn’t stand having them on his phone. You’re beyond pathetic, and now everyone knows it.’

  Seffy knew Nicole had quite the temper but it had never been directed at her before. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit. Nor did she like the idea of Rebecca finding those photos, or of Daniel thinking her a fool. She’d never had a chance with him, had she? She realised that now, and she had a feeling Nicole had known that all along too.

  ‘None of this was about protecting Daniel, was it?’ Seffy asked Nicole quietly. ‘It’s all been about you. This whole thing. Splitting up Daniel and Rebecca, getting Justin to find out information about her family. Hurting Lizzie. It’s been about you destroying other people’s happiness because you wanted all the attention. You didn’t like that someone else was in the limelight. That’s what you meant, wasn’t it? When you talked about getting him out of the picture. All you wanted was your shot at working at your father’s company.’

  ‘Ding ding ding! We have a winner!’ Nicole laughed again. The news story had hit a nerve; it was going to be bad for her, and she was taking it out on Seffy. She took a
deep breath. She needed to calm down. Rage wasn’t a good look on anyone. ‘Seffy, would you get me a glass of water, please.’

  There was no answer.

  ‘Seffy!’ Nicole screeched. ‘Hello! Will you just get me a drink? Sorry for snapping, darling. I didn’t mean it. I’m just very upset right now. You understand.’

  ‘No,’ Seffy murmured.

  ‘What?’

  ‘NO,’ Seffy said more confidently. ‘I won’t get you a drink, Nicole. In fact, I don’t think I want to be your friend any more.’

  Nicole’s eyes almost popped out of her head. ‘Are you kidding me? You think you can ditch me? Are you crazy?’

  ‘No. But I think you might be.’

  The two women stared at each other for a few seconds.

  ‘Fine! Go!’ Nicole spat eventually, grabbing Seffy’s hand and marching her to the front door. ‘I’m out of your league anyway. You know how many people want to be friends with me?’

  ‘I do,’ Seffy said with a grimace. ‘But they don’t know you. Not really. And if they did, I don’t imagine the queue would be as long. I—I think maybe you’re a bad person, Nicole.’

  ‘Fuck off, then!’ Nicole shouted. ‘I never liked you anyway! And guess what? You don’t look anything like Angelina Jolie! And your dyed hair makes you look washed out and ill!’

  Seffy just shook her head in disgust at this low blow and walked out of Nicole’s immaculate flat, head held high. She might end up with no friends once Nicole had raked her name over the coals. She might end up in the dodgy end of Croydon in a Bella Italia. But at least she’ll never have to see Nicole Balfour again. And that, Seffy thought with a small, surprised smile to herself, was a blessed relief.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Becky

  There’s something about your childhood home that’s soothing to the soul. Maybe it’s knowing every creak in the floor, every section on the wall where the paint is scuffed, or maybe it’s the knowledge that tucked away in the upstairs cupboard, folded up right at the back, is the Spice Girls duvet cover you loved so much when you were young that you thought you’d put it on every bed you ever had for the rest of your life. And then there are those people who have the same soothing effect on you – my dad is one of those people. He turned up at the hotel like a bear-like, Dad-ish knight in shining armour. He used his not-inconsiderable frame to protect me as we pushed past all of the paparazzi, bundled me into his car and we sped off towards the M1, towards Leeds.