The Wedding Date

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The Wedding Date Page 23

by Jennifer Joyce


  Just hanging out at home. Oliver! is on TV in half an hour. If you put it on too, we can pretend we’re watching it together

  I can’t help smiling as I reply. It’s such a sweet gesture and the idea of a secret date, right under Ryan’s nose, is oddly thrilling.

  ‘Do you want anything from the shop?’ I pop my head around the dining room door, where Ryan is camped at the table, busily planning lessons for the coming weeks. I’d assumed Ryan showed up to work in his scruffs and just knobbed about on the football field all day while yelling at the kids for kicks but it turns out there is a lot more to being a PE teacher than I’d thought.

  ‘I’d lick a dead dog for a Double Decker right now,’ Ryan says without taking his eyes off the mound of papers before him.

  ‘Coming right up.’ I move away from the doorway but pop my head back again. ‘I meant the Double Decker and not a dead dog, by the way.’

  There’s a shop around the corner from Ryan’s place that’s small and cave-like, with boxes of crisps piled up in front of the only window, blocking out all natural light. But it’s close and has a large selection of confectionery to choose from. You’d think being surrounding by so many goodies would make you happy but the shopkeeper is a mean, miserly little man who observes everybody with deep suspicion from the moment their toes cross the threshold until the door closes behind them again. He doesn’t chat to his customers, simply grunts the amount owed while holding out a clammy hand. He makes Norris Cole look like a jolly Santa Claus.

  I’m in and out of the shop as quick as I can, picking up a bag of toffee popcorn, a bottle of Pepsi Max and Ryan’s Double Decker. The shopkeeper has his beady eye on me at all times so that by the time I leave the shop, I feel strangely ashamed and I’m convinced I’ve stuffed my pockets with stolen sweets.

  Ryan is still at his makeshift desk when I arrive home and he pounces on the Double Decker. I leave him to it, settling myself in front of the telly with my drink and popcorn. I text Adam to let him know I’m ready with my Oliver! snacks. The best thing about this secret date is that even if Ryan does escape from his work, he won’t think anything is amiss as I love Oliver! and would never miss an opportunity to watch it.

  The film begins and I lose myself in the story of the orphan boy, feeling a mixture of joy and rage at appropriate times. And of course I sing along – who can resist a bit of Oom-Pah-Pah-ing? Adam and I text throughout, so it’s almost like we’re actually watching it together.

  Adam: That Bill Sykes is a bad ‘un, isn’t he?

  Delilah: The worst. I still can’t believe he kills Nancy

  Adam: Spoilers!!!

  Delilah: You’ve seen it before. Haven’t you??? Everybody has seen Oliver!

  Adam: Yep, just messing with you. It is Isaac and Luke’s first time though

  Delilah: Are they enjoying it?

  Adam: Yes. A bit too much. Isaac wants to go pick-pocketing. Not sure his mum will thank me for that. You’re a bad influence and you haven’t even met them yet

  I like how Adam says ‘yet’, confident that our relationship will progress enough for an introduction to take place. I’m hopeful that it will. I like Adam. He’s fun and he makes me feel good about myself and I’m beginning to realise that wasn’t always the case with Ben. We obviously did have good times – great times, in fact – but it was mostly on Ben’s terms. At the time I felt so privileged to be with Ben that I was happy to go along with whatever he wanted, sacrificing my own wants and opinions for love.

  The film finishes and I have a sneaky little sniffle. Poor Nancy! Ben may have been a tad controlling but he was no Bill Sykes.

  My phone buzzes next to me (I’d put it on silent so the noise wouldn’t intrude on the film) and it’s Adam again but this time there’s no mention of Oliver Twist.

  Adam: Have you got any plans for tonight? I’ll be taking the boys home soon. Maybe we could hang out for real?

  Delilah: I’ll be out tonight, pub quizzing with my friends

  Adam: Maybe I can join you. I’m not too bad at quizzes!

  Help! Of course I want to spend the evening with Adam – and our team could certainly do with an intelligence boost – but I can’t let Adam meet my friends. Not yet. I have no choice but to put him off, however much it pains me.

  Delilah: Our team’s already full. Sorry! I’m free tomorrow though

  I feel like such a cow as I send the message. But what else can I do? It’s just a teeny, tiny little lie, just to cover my back until after the wedding.

  Chapter 35

  A Tangling Web of Lies

  Text Message:

  Ryan: If Mum asks, I was taken ill last night and you had to rush me to the hospital with suspected appendicitis

  Delilah: May I ask why?

  Ryan: She set me up with the daughter of one of Dad’s colleagues. I didn’t even have time for a Code Red. I just had to throw some money down on the table and run

  Woodgate town centre is heaving as Lauren and I meander through the crowds, avoiding ankle-bruising pushchairs and shopping bags. There’s a street dance festival taking place this afternoon, which has drawn the crowds in. The shopping centre is jammed and outside is even worse. Teenagers gather in menacing crowds, glaring at anyone who dares to enter their vicinity while families spread out to watch the festivities, leaving little to no room to manoeuvre.

  ‘We picked the wrong day to come shopping,’ I say as we wriggle through the tiniest gap between people unwilling or unable to move to let us through.

  ‘I know, but we’ve got to find you a dress that’ll knock Ben’s socks off,’ Lauren says and I feel a bubble of guilt wriggle up from my gut and settle uncomfortably in my chest. Lauren is being so supportive while I’ve totally put a spanner in the works of her love life by asking her to hold off on Ryan until after Francesca’s wedding. I am a bad friend. Terrible. Worse when you factor in Adam, who I’ve been seeing for a couple of weeks now. I haven’t told Lauren about him for fear of my hypocrisy being – rightly – thrown in my face.

  I can’t even tell Lauren that I’m no longer that bothered about knocking Ben’s socks off. The fervour I’d felt at the beginning of Project Wedding Date has started to wear off, as have the rose-tinted glasses I’ve been seeing Ben through all this time. I know Lauren will be thrilled to hear this development, but she’ll want to know why I’ve had such a sudden epiphany, which will only open an Adam-shaped can of worms.

  ‘Oh no.’ We’ve managed to worm our way into the coffee shop where we’d planned to have a pit stop before continuing our search for the perfect dress but Lauren has stopped abruptly. I only just manage to stop myself before I crash into her back. Peering around her, I see why she’s so alarmed. The coffee shop is packed to the rafters, every table swamped with bodies and mugs while customers wait impatiently for their turn to sit down. The queue at the counter snakes around the perimeter of the shop. We’ll be lucky to get served before Christmas.

  ‘Come on.’ I pull Lauren back outside, which is difficult as there are yet more people piling in behind us. Having this many people crammed into the shop has to be against health and safety regulations. ‘I know where we can go.’

  Leading Lauren off the high street and away from the crowds, we make our way to Sweet Street Café, which is thankfully a lot quieter. All four tables are in use but one soon becomes available and Lauren and I drop into the seats gratefully.

  ‘This place is amazing.’ Lauren gazes at the prints on the wall and the mouth-watering menus in awe. ‘Why have we never been here before? Why have I never heard of this place?’

  I shrug my shoulders, unable to tell Lauren how I came to know of its existence. I can’t tell her about my date here with Adam. Or any of the others since. I’m having such a wonderful time with Adam and I’m dying to tell Lauren all about him but I have to keep quiet about him for a while longer.

  ‘I’m going to have a raspberry milkshake,’ Lauren says, her eyes still scanning the menus in case she spots a better of
fer. I go for a milkshake too, opting for a banana one. When it arrives it is ice-cold and thick and topped with whipped cream and sliced banana.

  ‘That is heavenly.’ Lauren sits back in her chair, panting from the effort of sucking the milkshake up through the stripy straw. ‘We need to come here more often.’

  Part of me agrees with this statement. We do need to come here more often. A place this enchanting shouldn’t be neglected. But then I start to panic about Adam. What if Lauren and I return and Adam shows up with his nephews? I know that they won’t today as Adam has taken the boys to a touch rugby session on the other side of town so it wouldn’t make sense for him to drive all this way. Even if the food on offer is divine.

  Cripes. What if he turns up?

  ‘We should head back to the shops.’ I jump out of my seat, my eyes darting to the door, convinced I will see the familiar, beautiful bulk of Adam on the other side. He isn’t there but I can’t risk it. If I see Adam I’ll have no choice but to introduce him to Lauren and I won’t be able to keep our relationship under wraps. It’s one thing keeping it from our colleagues (Adam and I aren’t too sure what the deal is with inter-office relationships. Obviously Neville and Denise are married but they may not approve of our canoodling. Plus, it adds a bit of fun and subterfuge to our days). It’s an entirely different matter keeping Adam from my friends.

  ‘We’ve barely touched our milkshakes,’ Lauren points out. She plucks a raspberry from the top of her whipped cream and pops it into her mouth, chewing languidly. I’m forced to sink back into my seat but I spend the remainder of our time in Sweet Street Café a nervous wreck, my eyes constantly trained on the door and eager to race out of the shop the moment Lauren deems it acceptable. Which is not how a café like Sweet Street should be treated. I am an abomination, both as a friend and as a human being.

  We manage to battle our way back into the shops and we find a stunning dress, plus matching shoes and a handbag, for the wedding. The knee-length pencil dress is a gorgeous, deep plum colour and has a waist-cinching belt and plunging neckline. Lauren treats herself to a divine, full-length red dress with a split right the way up the thigh. The strapless dress clings to her body in all the right places and while she doesn’t have an occasion in mind to wear it, Lauren can’t resist.

  ‘Shall we go back to Ryan’s?’ Lauren asks as we climb into her car once the shopping trip is over. I smile to myself. Had the signs that she had the hots for Ryan always been so obvious?

  ‘I don’t get it,’ I say as Lauren pulls out of the parking space. ‘If you like Ryan so much, why are you always bickering with him?’

  Lauren flashes me a wicked grin. ‘Because he looks hot when he’s all riled up.’

  Gross. ‘Maybe you could model that fabulous dress for him,’ I tease. If Ryan didn’t fancy Lauren, he would once he caught sight of her in the dress.

  ‘Don’t give me ideas.’ Lauren drives us to Ryan’s place, parking beside the familiar, flashy car that belongs to Phil. I hold in a groan, but then think sod it and let it out. Loudly.

  ‘Eleanor’s here,’ I tell Lauren, nodding at the car. ‘Shall we sneak off to the pub?’

  ‘Too late.’ Lauren points at the sitting room window where Ryan is peering out. He’s noticed us and is waving frantically. Balls. We have no choice but to go in now.

  ‘Come and have a chat with the delightful Eleanor.’ I link my arm through Lauren’s and guide her towards the front door. ‘And if you still want to be with her son afterwards, I’ll be amazed.’

  Eleanor and Phil are sitting on the sofa in the sitting room, Eleanor with a cup of tea (and a matching saucer, which I didn’t even know Ryan possessed) while Phil is munching his way through a share bag of salt and vinegar crisps.

  ‘Hello, Delilah.’ Eleanor flashes me a tight smile. I’m immediately suspicious and edge slowly into the room.

  ‘Hello, Eleanor. Phil.’ I return my own smile that is brief and as natural as a tan in Essex. ‘This is our friend, Lauren. You’ve probably seen her before.’ Seen but never been formally introduced, as Ryan’s friends have never really been welcome in the Fords’ home.

  ‘Hello, Lauren.’ There’s that tight smile from Eleanor again. My blood runs cold at the sight of it. Disney could have modelled a villain on this woman.

  ‘Mrs Ford.’ Lauren steps forward, holding out her hand for Eleanor to shake. I expect Ryan’s mother to turn her head in disgust, so I’m taken aback when she takes Lauren’s proffered hand and gives it a brief shake. ‘Mr Ford.’ Lauren turns to Phil, who uses his non-crisp-eating hand to shake Lauren’s hand.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Ford?’ I mouth at Lauren when she turns to face me again. She gives the slightest shrug of her shoulders, a smile twitching at her lips. I know what’s she’s doing, the cunning little madam. She’s sucking up, laying the groundwork in case she and Ryan end up together.

  ‘It’s so nice to meet a friend of Ryan’s.’ Eleanor chokes the words out with another painful smile. What is she up to? If she produces an apple from her handbag and offers it to me, I’m out of here.

  ‘It’s so lovely to finally meet his parents,’ Lauren gushes. I want to stick my fingers down my throat. Meeting Eleanor is anything but lovely.

  Eleanor inclines her head before she turns to me. I take an instinctive step back. ‘How are you, Delilah?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ I’m not hungry for apples, if that what she means. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Quite ashamed, if I’m perfectly honest.’ Eleanor closes her eyes and I brace myself. What have I done? Has she found out our relationship is a big fat lie? ‘I have behaved revoltingly and I’d like to apologise to you. I’ve already apologised to Ryan for the distress I have caused him and have assured him that I will mind my own business when it comes to his love life from now on.’ I shoot a look at Lauren. This is good news for her if it works out with Ryan, but they should probably get something down in writing. ‘I have been narrow-minded and unbelievably rude to you, Delilah and I offer my sincere apology for that.’

  ‘Oh.’ I’m stunned. Truly stunned. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I hope we can put this business behind us and move on?’

  ‘Of course.’ I sink into an armchair. I don’t think my legs can hold me up for a moment longer. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Good.’ Eleanor smiles and while it isn’t exactly warm, it is the friendliest facial expression of hers that I’ve seen aimed at me. ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’

  Eleanor finishes her cup of tea and Phil polishes off the crisps, licking the flavour from each finger before he scrunches up the bag. Eleanor says it’s time to go and hugs Ryan and then me. I don’t know whether to believe I’ve been welcomed into the fold or be afraid. Very afraid.

  ‘She seemed genuine to me,’ Lauren says when I voice my fears after they’ve gone.

  ‘Is that just wishful thinking?’ I ask.

  ‘Why would Lauren care about what my mum thinks?’ Ryan asks and Lauren and I share a panicked look.

  ‘Because she cares about me? Jeez, Ryan, some people do think about others, you know.’ I’m perhaps overdoing it, so I nudge the conversation back to Eleanor. ‘Your mum’s either being genuine or she’s lulling us into a false sense of security while she plots her next line of attack.’

  ‘You make her sound evil,’ Lauren says.

  Ryan and I say nothing.

  Chapter 36

  Meeting The Boys

  Text Message:

  Delilah: I hate kids!!!

  Lauren: What’s Justin done this time?

  Delilah: He let his dirty little friend take a pair of my knickers home. And when I say ‘let’ I mean he charged him a quid for them

  Lauren: You have to admit that while it’s definitely seedy, it is quite enterprising

  I’ve never really got on well with children, mostly because the contact I’ve had with them has mainly been Justin and his weird friends. My main beef is with Riley, his perverted friend who has no q
ualms sharing his depraved acts and actually revels in the reactions they cause. But there’s also Ethan who will try to steal anything that isn’t nailed down, from money to teaspoons (Mum has banned him from the house as it got to the point where she had to frisk the boy before he left) and Jordan who will eat anything and everything in sight, including my favourite Laffy Taffy lip balm that Lauren brought back from a trip to New York. Whenever I thought about the children Ben and I would have, they were serene, cherub-like little darlings with good manners and normal eating habits. I assume this is nature’s way of ensuring I procreate because if I knew I was going to squeeze out a child like Justin and his pals, I’d keep my legs firmly locked together at all times.

  So it’s with mixed feelings that I head out to meet Adam and his nephews. I want to like them as Adam clearly adores them and I think this could be a deal-breaker for us.

  Adam and I have agreed to meet at Sweet Street Café again for a Sunday afternoon treat. I assume that by introducing me to his nephews, Adam sees a future for us and this thought makes me giddy with happiness. Seriously, I could break out in song right now as I make way towards the café. The words to ‘Everybody Rejoice’ from The Wiz are on the tip of my tongue, my arms are ready to fling themselves in the air, my feet itching to skip along the pavement.

  But I control myself and walk like a normal person.

  The café is as lovely as ever as I step inside but this time there is the added bonus of the aroma of fresh baking wafting from the kitchen. There are two tables occupied – the first by a young couple sharing a giant ice cream sundae dripping with sticky toffee sauce and the other by Adam and two young boys. All the joy of the musicals scatters, leaving me with a feeling of apprehension that makes my gut ache.

  What if they don’t like me?

  What if I don’t like them?

  ‘Delilah.’ Adam is beaming as he rises from his seat to greet me. It’s quite fortunate that he places an arm around my shoulders and guides me to the table because I’m in definite fight or flight mode – and there’s no way I’m going to battle a three and four-year-old. I’m not sure I’d even bother to open the door as I bolted my way out.

 

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