by Ali Harris
Adam comes into focus, his grey eyes full of concern. He’s stroking my temples with his thumbs then touching my forehead with the palm of his hand. Marion suddenly pushes in front of him and snaps her fingers in my face several times, making me blink rapidly like I’m having a convulsion. Not particularly helpful when a hundred people are wondering if I’ve just had some kind of prenuptial seizure. Then she holds her hand up.
‘How many fingers, dear?’ she barks, her perfectly painted lips opening like a chasm. ‘Can you tell? One? Four? Five?’
‘Hopefully not two,’ I say weakly, ‘because that would be rude.’
There’s a swell of laughter at this.
‘She’s all right, everybody,’ Cal diagnoses. ‘She just wanted to show how head-over-heels in love with Adam she is!’ He and Adam bend over me, arms poised to help me up.
‘Wait there a second, son,’ George calls. ‘I’m still filming. This’ll get millions of hits on YouTube!’
‘George!’ Marion admonishes.
‘I’m fine, really I am!’ I say, batting Cal and Adam away and struggling into a sitting position.
And even though to all intents and purposes I am – there isn’t a scratch or a bruise on my body – I do feel strange. Woozy. Present in the moment, but like I’m missing something big: a part of me that was there before but isn’t now. I squint at my outstretched fingers and count them in case Marion has a point. It’s then that I notice an absence of wedding ring. That must be it, I conclude. That’s the missing piece!
I tilt my head back and look up at Adam. His eyes are dark clouds, his brow crumpled with anxiety.
‘Can we just get on with it now, Ad?’ I plead. ‘I just want to get married.’
‘Oh thank God,’ he laughs in relief.
‘Were you worried I wasn’t going to make it – or make it down the aisle?’ I say teasingly. I close my eyes as this moment resonates in my brain like it has happened before, but differently. I feel like there is something I should remember too, something big, but there’s a black spot, like a fingerprint, where that memory should be.
I shake my head, smile and turn to the guests on either side who are all looking at me with almost sick anticipation, like onlookers at a car crash.
‘It’s all right,’ I call out weakly. ‘I’m OK! Serves me right for trying to wear high heels!’ There is a ripple of laughter. ‘It’s good luck for something to go wrong on your wedding day, right?’ I add. ‘And now that I’ve gone arse over . . .’ Marion glares at me and I hurriedly change my sentence ‘. . . apex, it stands to reason that everything else is going to go perfectly! So let’s do this thing! Let’s have a wedding!’
This receives a round of applause and as I take my bouquet from Milly and thrust it in the air, I hurriedly get into position. For some reason I feel like I have to marry Adam as soon as possible – before it’s too late.
I take Cal and Loni’s arms and then the three of us begin to walk, with me leading us quickly – but carefully – towards Adam. I glance over my shoulder; I know I’m ready for my future now but I can’t quite shake the feeling that my past is hovering in the shadows somewhere, watching every single step I take.
Chapter 4
Adam won’t look at me. Everything I say seems so wretchedly, pathetically clichéd. I stand in the chapel waiting for him to speak. It feels like forever before he does.
‘I know you’re scared, but this doesn’t make any sense.’ He turns as if with renewed belief that he can change my mind. ‘We’re meant to be together, Bea, you know we are! Hey, do you remember the night when we first met?’ he says hurriedly, running his hand through his head of thick hair and holding it there. ‘We were sitting outside the Greenwich Tavern, it was about 10 p.m., the sky had turned this amazing colour of purple and we were telling each other about our exes and how we’d never be crazy enough to fall in love again . . .’
‘When “Crazy” by Cee Lo Green started playing through the speakers . . .’ I finish softly. I close my eyes, taken back to that moment again. It had felt like a sign: a split second when time had tipped, changing the course of our lives. We’d looked at each other, Adam and I, and we’d known that we were crazy enough to do just that. Fall in love. I shake my head. Adam’s still talking, still reliving the happy moment for me, but I put my hand up.
I want to tell him what I can’t seem to articulate: that I’m not worthy of him. I couldn’t live with myself if I were to go through with this, that I’m hurting him now to save him future heartbreak and disappointment when he finds out the truth about me.
‘I’m so sorry, Adam.’ I stifle a cry with my hand, drop my bouquet on the floor and then I stagger past him blindly into the nave where the hushed guests are still waiting. They know something is wrong; they’re staring at me like I’m some sort of alien. I pause for a moment in the centre of the aisle. Maybe I am crazy? Maybe I always have been. And with that thought I bow my head and begin to run, ripping off my veil as I push through the doors and head down the path towards the white vintage Rolls-Royce that has just magically appeared in front of the church.
The driver looks over his shoulder inquisitively as I get in. He clearly was not expecting me so soon.
I glance out of the window and see that Adam is standing in the arch of the church doorway. His left hand is lifted above his eyebrows, shading his eyes from the sun. He looks like a movie star in his morning suit. I imagine for a moment that I’m next to him, holding his hand, and that we are both wearing wedding rings. The image is so clear in my mind that when I close my eyes it’s like I am stepping into it. Adam and I are laughing as we kiss surrounded by a horseshoe of our friends and family. They throw rose petals over us until all I can see is a white floral mist. I open my eyes and the image of us is gone as quickly as it came.
‘Please, just go,’ I beg, and the driver shrugs, starts up the engine and pulls away.
Chapter 5
‘You may now kiss the bride!’ An eruption of cheers and applause explodes through the church. Adam and I laugh into each other’s lips as we kiss before turning to walk hand-in-hand back down the aisle. I feel at once like I’m walking on air but I also still have this horrible sense of déjà vu. I have an urge to run down the aisle as fast as I can, but I force myself to walk nice and slowly; to savour this moment.
I glance round and see Loni walking down the aisle behind us, waving like a celebrity and leaning against Cal who is standing tall despite her weight, the twins entwined around his legs and Lucy’s arm wrapped round his waist. Then I look back at Adam, my handsome, strong, kind, easy-going husband, and I dismiss any further thoughts of my absent dad. I feel like the missing piece in our family has been replaced by something better. Someone better. I nestle my head in Adam’s shoulder, beaming as we continue up the aisle. Adam is shaking hands with everyone he passes and I find I’m recognising more and more people now. There’s the gang from Eagle Recruitment, the temp agency I’ve been signed to for seven years. I spot Tim towering over all the others and ignoring us completely as he tries to make eyes at the female guests. Nick, my boss and good friend, is smiling sardonically and looking like he’d prefer to be anywhere but here. Glenda’s here too, my lovely Welsh ‘work mum’. She waves at me delightedly and throws up her hat and yells, ‘We love you, Bea!’ and Jeeves – another colleague – shouts ‘Hear, hear!’ and waves a pink handkerchief.
I squeeze Adam’s hand and he smiles at me and then we are outside in the fresh air, holding hands, rings glinting in the sunshine as the guests flood out of the doors like champagne fizzing out of a bottle and surround us in a crescent. They throw rose petals over us as we kiss in front of a hundred flashing cameras. I laugh shyly into Adam’s shoulder as everyone claps and cheers, but when I look up again at the crowd the only person I see is Kieran Blake.
I stare at him in horror, the black smudge in my memory dissipating as I suddenly remember spotting him standing nonchalantly in the congregation as if he hadn’t disappeared for e
ight years.
Eight years. Not one, like he promised.
He had stared at me imploringly as I froze in the aisle, those green eyes telling me everything I once dreamed he would come back and say.
I still love you. No one will ever know you like I do. No one has our connection. No one ever will.
I’d tried to look away, to carry on walking towards Adam, but I’d felt myself pulled back to Kieran with every step. The moment I’d waited so long for had finally come, but at entirely the wrong time. And then I’d fallen and when I came to – I had forgotten it had happened. Blotted out the memory. Like I’ve been trying to do for years: erase the memory of everything that happened that summer.
I wish I could black him out again now. He’s not welcome here, not now, not today. Not when I’ve finally got myself together. But he doesn’t go. Instead, he’s throwing petals like they’re flowers on a grave instead of confetti.
I waited for you, I try to tell him with my eyes. I waited but you didn’t come. And now it’s too late. I’ve made my decision.
I turn to look at Adam who lifts me up in his arms and kisses me, and as I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him fervently back I’m so very thankful that we are married.
Bea Bishop is gone; my new life as Mrs Bea Hudson has begun.
‘Are you happy?’ Adam murmurs and I nod, but the truth is the main emotion I’m feeling is relief. I’m so lucky to have Adam: the only man who has never left me. The One that didn’t run away.
‘It’s all about us now, you, me, our future.’ I glance back to where Kieran was standing seconds before and at the space next to Loni where my dad should have been. ‘I don’t need anyone other than you, Adam,’ I add ardently. ‘Not any more.’
He kisses me again and I try to melt into the moment. But out of the corner of my eye I can see the silhouette of a figure walking away from the church, towards Holkham Hall, and – if I know Kieran – towards the stretch of beach beyond. I cling on to Adam like he’s the shore. And I tell myself that I am sure. About him.
For the first time in my life I am certain I have made the right decision.
Chapter 6
My car whips quickly through the Holkham estate, past the lake and down the oak-lined Lady Anne’s Drive, and I realise with grim irony that my driver is whistling what appears to be the Wedding March.
Maybe it’s in his contract to do this when he drives a newly married couple away. And judging by the nervous glances he’s throwing me in his rear-view mirror he hasn’t worked out what tune to replace it with when ferrying a runaway bride. I think about making some suggestions: Paul Simon’s ‘50 Ways To Leave Your Lover’ would work, as would ‘Another One Bites The Dust’.
As we pull up alongside The Victoria, the boutique hotel where I stayed last night and where Adam and I were meant to spend our first night as a married couple, I lean forward and tell the driver to pull over in the beach car park across the road ahead.
Holkham Bay is just visible through the trees. I need space to breathe, and there isn’t a better place than this unspoilt, expansive stretch of beach that, despite its enormity, I once knew like the back of my hand. I haven’t been back here for eight years. Not since Kieran left after that summer . . . I shake my head to try and dislodge him from my mind.
I think of Loni’s shambolic home, and the garden I still think of as Dad’s. I blink and swallow. Another unwelcome memory. I feel like I’m being haunted by the men who have left me, which seems ironic given my recent actions. I think of Adam standing in the church doorway, watching me drive away.
‘You going to be all right, love?’ the chauffeur says, glancing at me as he turns the ignition off and I open the car door. ‘You’re not exactly dressed for a beach amble . . .’
I glance down at my wedding dress. He’s right. But it’s too late now. I slip off my shoes and pick them up
‘I’ll be fine.’ I smile weakly.
‘Do you want me to wait here?’ he says gently.
‘It’s all right. I’ll be fine,’ I repeat. But my chin wobbles disobediently.
He looks at me for a moment and in that one glance I can tell that he is a father himself.
‘Reckon I’ll just wait here a while anyway, love. Might as well enjoy the glorious view.’ He smiles kindly at me and I feel tears swell, threatening to fall.
I walk away from the car and turn left through the pine trees and along a well-trodden track that I’ve taken many times with Loni and Cal. And Kieran, I think, but I push away those unwelcome memories again along with my tears.
I step off the boardwalk and onto the beach, inhaling the sea air. As I stand there time seems to collapse and it’s like I can picture my twenty-two-year-old self, roaming the endless dunes, sobbing as I tried to accept that Kieran had really gone.
I hitch up my dress now. The tide is in so there’s not much beach. I run across the sand, feeling the wind pierce my cheeks. Then I clamber up the dunes and gaze out at the glistening North Sea stretching out calmly and languorously before me. The sun’s golden rays are bouncing off the sand and throwing glitter over the ocean. I feel betrayed by the view. Where are the thrashing waves and pelting rain that would be a better backdrop to this moment?
Have some respect, Mother Nature! I feel like yelling. At least give me a clap of thunder! An angry wave? A cloud? I’ll take some drizzle! Anything!
But the bright spring sunshine just beams back teasingly and I notice how the sea lavender has created a misty purple halo around the angelic-looking bay. I remember how as a kid I used to bring my nature books down here with Dad so we could identify each type of bramble and scrubland plant by name. It was blissful, carefree. Then, as a teenager, I used to run along the coastline for miles, fuelled by fresh air and an urgent need to fill my head with something other than noise. And then there were the endless days and nights of that summer I spent here with Kieran and his twin brother, Elliot. Swimming, drinking, laughing, loving, living.
For the first time in my life I was happy. I thought nothing could ever go wrong. How naïve I was.
I sit down and absent-mindedly draw a ring in the sand with my finger and then brush it away with my palm.
‘I thought I’d find you here.’
When I hear his voice I stiffen and my heart stops. I feel the oxygen flood from my body and my chest heave and swell with panic. It’s like I’m hyperventilating – thank God I’m already sitting down or I’d probably faint again. I glance over my shoulder and seeing him now has the same impact as it did at the church. He unbalances me; I’m instantly on terra un-firma. Unanchored. Untethered. I can already feel myself slipping helplessly back to my past.
‘Hi,’ Kieran says simply and his smile sends filtered sunshine into his mossy green eyes. The sun is shining directly behind him, circling him with an aura of light that makes him seem ethereal, angelic almost. He looks the same, despite the years that have passed. He looks like his brother.
I gaze down at the sand, feeling my heart rise and dip like the boats on the distant horizon. I can’t let him see that he has unearthed me.
‘What are you doing here?’ I say evenly, trying to turn away from him. But once again the tight fishtail dress has rendered me incapable of movement. I’m like a mermaid thrashing helplessly at the water’s edge. When I look at him I feel like I’m both blinded by the beautiful summer we spent together and tainted by what tore us apart.
‘I know I shouldn’t be here,’ he says ruefully, ‘but I wanted to check you were OK. After all, I’m not averse to running away from things myself . . .’ He looks down and kicks his foot in the sand. He’s not dressed for a wedding, I notice. He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans, leather bracelets adorn his wrist, a necklace with the letter E hangs around his neck.
I remember us being on this same beach vowing to wear our promise rings as the waves crashed behind us and our hearts pounded against each other’s chests and the tears fell from our eyes.
One year, he’d whispered
into my mouth as I kissed him again and again, desperately clinging to him like a mollusc to a rock. One year and I’ll be back for you.
Do you promise?
I do.
I blink and see the same silver ring on his finger, even now after all this time. The ring I saw when I was walking down the aisle. I’d worn mine on my right hand for a whole year until I moved to London, where eventually, reluctantly, at Milly’s persuasion, I buried it in a suitcase of memories. A month later I met Adam. I should be wearing his ring now. Would I be wearing it if Kieran hadn’t come back?
I think of Adam standing in the church doorway, and imagine myself back there.
What have I done?
Chapter 7
Bea Bishop has changed her name to Bea Hudson.
Relationship status: ‘Married’.
I look around at our guests covertly as I change my Facebook profile, my wedding ring glinting as I tap expertly away on my phone. I know straight after the wedding ceremony and during the formal wedding photos on the lawn is not a particularly appropriate moment to do this, but the guests are happily talking and laughing, milling around in front of the marquee like brightly coloured ballroom dancers, and in this moment, I have an overwhelming urge to let everyone I’ve ever met hear how perfect it all is and how happy I am. Maybe because now I remember how close I came to ending this day very differently. When I saw Kieran in the congregation I wanted to run out the church and far away but then I’d fallen and forgotten and I’m so glad. I’m safe now. I have Adam. I glance around to check that Kieran hasn’t returned, trying to quieten the pounding of my heart that seems intent on giving me away. Why was he there? What could he possibly hope to achieve by turning up after all this time – and at my wedding? When he was the one who left and didn’t come back? I want to know, but equally, I’m frustrated that I’m thinking about him. I’m married. When I made my vows I resolved to put him out of my mind, to focus on the here and now – but he remains stubbornly in my head.
