by Shari Low
Nineteen
Caro
An hour later, the rain was clinging to every strand of Caro’s hair, making it stick to the side of her face, but she barely noticed. A sob escaped from her throat, and a woman at the pedestrian crossing beside her glanced up at her curiously. Caro put her head down and kept walking.
She walked. Just walked. One foot in front of the other. All the while, replaying the conversation she’d just had with the love of her life. What had she expected? That he would just say, ‘Oh, darling, that’s absolutely fine,’ and then they’d jolly off into the sunset together?
If only it had played out that way.
The thing that almost broke her was that he’d looked so happy to see her when she’d walked into the restaurant. He was like a guy standing on a sun-kissed beach, thinking the approaching waves were beautiful, not realising that it was actually a tsunami that would destroy everything in its path.
She’d been grateful when an elderly couple had got into the lift with them, ruling out any chance of conversation until they reached his room. Inside, as soon as the door had closed behind her, he’d pulled her towards him and kissed her playfully. ‘God, it is so good to see you. Did I mention how much I missed you last night?’
That, right there, was one of the many reasons that she loved Cammy Jones. He was funny, and loving, and he always found the joy in life. This was a guy who loved and lived in equal measure, who never let anything get him down for too long and who always wanted to make sure that everyone else was having a good time too. The night they’d met, in the middle of their first conversation, she’d got the phone call to say that her mum, who was desperately ill, had taken a turn for the worse. Without a second’s hesitation, and despite the fact that Lila had just dumped him, Cammy had offered to drive her home, a three hour trip to Aberdeen. They hadn’t made it in time, but he’d tried so hard to get her there. That’s the kind of guy Cammy Jones was and she adored him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She just didn’t want to marry him.
Back in the hotel room, it had taken him a few seconds to realise that she wasn’t quite on the same page of excitement and glee. He’d pulled back, looked into her eyes, his expression questioning. ‘Hey, what’s up? Last minute hitch? Whatever it is, we can fix it. Josie’s running this wedding like a military invasion.’
Caro had hesitated, too scared to say it, too scared not to.
‘Please don’t hate me,’ she’d blurted, her eyes suddenly swimming with tears.
His whole demeanour had gone from joy to concern. ‘Caro, what is it? Shit, what’s happened?’
‘I don’t… I don’t…’ She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t get the words out. They were stuck somewhere between her brain and her gut, trapped by guilt and dread.
‘Don’t what?’ he’d tried to help her.
In the end it had come out in one strangled gasp, with no spaces between the words. ‘Idontwanttogetmarried.’
There was a pause as his brain rewound the outburst a few times, trying to decipher it.
‘You don’t want to get married?’ he’d asked, incomprehension in every word.
Her tears were flowing then, as she shook her head.
‘You don’t want to marry me?’ he’d asked again, for clarification, his skin paling a little, his eyes wide and troubled.
‘I’m so sorry, Cammy. I love you. I really do. But I just can’t do this. I feel like the whole thought of it is… choking me.’
He’d slumped down on the bed, elbows on his knees, his hands running through his hair as he tried to process this. After a few seconds, he’d looked up. ‘I’m going to need more than that.’
She’d sat down on the edge of the grey velvet bucket chair facing the bed, unsure if it was by choice or because her legs had given way.
A hesitation. A mind-freeze. Then the words came.
‘When you asked me to be your wife and I said yes, I meant it. I wanted that so much. But then… I know it doesn’t make sense and I’m so, so sorry… but I started waking up with this feeling of dread in the middle of dreams where my mum is telling me not to get married. And I know that sounds nuts, but she was so in love with my dad and what did she get? Thirty years of waiting for him to walk in the door, then mourning him every time he left. And then, when she got sick and really needed him, he left her, and she died not even knowing that he’d lied to her every day of her life. That’s what marriage gets you.’
‘But—’ he’d begun, but she’d cut him off.
Now that she was speaking, she needed to get it all out, get everything said and she couldn’t stop until she was done. ‘And I know you’re going to say that you’re nothing like him and what we have is completely different and I know that’s true. I do. But I can’t stop the panic that rises every time I think of actually walking down an aisle. My mind immediately goes to my mum and it takes away every shred of happiness that I should be feeling. I can’t do it, Cammy. Why can’t loving each other be enough? Why do we have to do the whole wedding thing? Can’t we just be us and love each other without the contract?’
He’d taken this in, thought about it, paused for a moment to process it. ‘We can,’ he’d said, and her spirits soared. ‘Caro, I love you, and I’ll take a life with you in any way it comes. But marriage means something to me. My parents have been together for fifty years and they adore each other. I want that too. If you’re saying that it’s off the table, then I’ll live with it. But it isn’t what I want. I want to stand up in front of everyone we love and promise our lives to each other. If you don’t love me enough…’
‘It’s nothing to do with how much I love you,’ she’d cried.
He just wasn’t getting it and she didn’t blame him. It didn’t make much sense to her either. All she knew was that she couldn’t argue with the feeling that when Cammy made his vows to her, all she would hear in her head was her dad making those same vows to her mum. And every word had been a lie. He hadn’t loved and cherished her. He hadn’t stood by her until the end of time. He’d lied through his teeth.
She tried again to explain herself. ‘I love you beyond words. I want to be with you. I just don’t want to be married.’
‘And you couldn’t tell me this before now?’
‘I’m sorry. I was trying so hard to make myself do it…’
She saw a flicker of hurt in his face as she said that.
‘… And I thought maybe I could, but this morning I woke up and realised that no matter how much I love you, I can’t walk up that aisle. I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t hate me.’
He’d run his fingers through his hair again, always his subconscious habit when he was stressed or worried. ‘Fuck, Josie will kill us,’ he’d murmured, almost to himself. ‘Does she know?’
Caro shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I told Val, so I’m guessing Josie will know by now.’
A look of understanding crossed his face. ‘That’s why she showed up here.’
‘Josie was here? When?’ she’d asked, realising that they were straying from the most crucial part of the conversation.
‘About five minutes before you came in. I thought she was a bit frazzled, but I just put it down to the surprise of seeing Michael and Avril. It must have been because she was looking for you.’
Caro had nodded sadly, aware of the stress and disruption she was foisting on every single person that she loved. ‘Oh God, poor Josie. She’s done so much for us. I hope she can forgive me. I’m so sorry, Cammy. Sorry about what I’m doing to you and to everyone else too.’
Two fresh tears ran down her cheeks and he’d reached forward and taken her hands.
‘Don’t cry. Please. It kills me.’
Sniffing, she’d wiped away the tears with the palms of her hands.
‘You definitely still love me?’ he’d asked, a sad smile on his lips.
She’d nodded. ‘I do. I swear.’
He’d sighed. ‘Okay.’
She’d seen that he was making a real e
ffort to comprehend all this and, worse, trying to make her feel better, and it twisted that wrench of guilt just a little bit more.
‘I’m trying to understand what you’re saying, I really am. I think you lost your mum, then moved straight down here to be with me and maybe there just wasn’t enough time to adjust, to grieve for her. I get that.’
‘I love you,’ she’d whispered.
Another sad smile from him. ‘I just wished you’d realised before everyone we know and love made their way here today.’
All she could do was nod, biting her bottom lip to stop the avalanche of tears that was threatening to fall.
‘Me too,’ she’d finally managed to whisper.
‘Do you want to tell people with me?’ he’d asked gently.
She’d shaken her head, hearing the word ‘coward’ ringing inside her mind. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
He’d taken a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, some kind of decision made in his mind. ‘Okay,’ he’d said, with some kind of certainty. ‘Look, I don’t want this to be a complete disaster, and I’m not going to let everyone down when they’ve made such an effort to get here, so here’s what I think we should do. I’m going to go ahead with the reception tonight. It’s only a few hours from now and it’s far too late to cancel everything. I’ll tell people what’s going on and then I’m going to let them know that we’re having the party anyway.’
‘Cammy, I can’t.’
‘I know,’ he’d said. ‘You don’t have to. I’ll come home tomorrow and we’ll sort everything out, but tonight I’m going to be with everyone who’s come here for us today. If you change your mind, you know where we will be. I hope you’ll come, I really do. But if you don’t, that’s okay. We’ll figure it out.’
Caro wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Relief. Gratitude. Guilt. Sadness. Admiration for this incredible guy who was still putting other people before himself, even when she’d just dropped a bombshell on his world.
His face was ashen, his voice trembling, but still he was forcing himself to do the right thing. ‘I should go back downstairs to our guests.’
Caro nodded. ‘I need to go too. I’ll try to find Josie, then I’ll go back home and talk to Val and Jen and Chrissie. I just landed all this on them this morning. Did Josie say where she was going when she left here?’
‘She said she was going over to the Kibble Palace to check on everything. I’m not sure now if that was even true, given that she was obviously just trying to hunt you down. She’s probably still scouring the streets for you.’ His words had been barely above a whisper and she could see he was struggling to process what was happening. He’d reached over, gently touched her face, and then they left the room, travelled back down to the lobby in silence. At the main door, he’d let her hand go. ‘See you,’ he’d said.
Caro couldn’t even answer. She’d fled from the hotel, but instead of crossing over to the Botanic Gardens, she’d stopped and leaned against a wall, her heart breaking as a group of buskers sang Christmas songs only a few metres away.
‘Blue Christmas’. ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’.
All I want for Christmas is to make this whole thing go away, she’d thought. She’d have given anything to press rewind to when it was just her and Cammy, no pressure, no fear, no looming wedding for her to let down everyone that she loved.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there, waiting until she thought her shaking legs would carry her, but it was a while before she stepped forward crossed the road.
Now, as she looked up and saw the huge dark green wrought-iron gates in front of her, every emotion swirled inside her. Love. Dread. Regret. Panic. There was also a gasp of wonder at the sheer beauty of the place. Every tree as far as she could see was bursting with fairy lights, like some kind of wonderland in a children’s fairy tale.
The Botanic Gardens. A place she adored. Inside the garden walls was the building in which she’d planned to marry Cammy tonight. Right now, it was the last place she wanted to be, yet she had to look for Josie, to explain, to apologise.
The music, it sounded like a choir singing a classical piece that she couldn’t name, got louder as she approached the entrance of the beautiful glass structure and she realised it was coming from speakers placed outside the foyer of the Kibble Palace. The name was a misnomer, conjuring up an image of a stone castle with turrets housing royalty. It was actually a huge glass house, with two domes (one large and one small) and a rotunda flanked by interlinked corridors and rooms, a truly magnificent testimony to architectural brilliance.
Inside the foyer, she saw the scene through a bride’s eyes. It was perfection. Heart wrenching, devastating perfection. Josie had arranged for archways of white flowers, intertwined with Christmas holly, to line the main entrance and the doorway into the first area. She went through the entrance into the first hall, where a white circular iron fence bordered a large indoor pond, the whole space now bursting with red poinsettias Josie had shipped in because she knew how much Caro loved them. Another wave of guilt, of regret.
Four people in catering uniforms were opening boxes beside a table covered in a stunning silver and white draped fabric. Caro recognised it as one of the choices Josie had shown her weeks ago. There had been red silk covers, green taffeta runners, gold metallic fabrics, but this silver material, beautifully edged with embroidered white snowflakes, had been her favourite. Josie had made this happen. She’d done it all. And all Caro could do now was weep with sorrow and shame that she’d put everyone to all this trouble for nothing.
She wiped the tears away with the sleeve of her duffle coat, before approaching the staff that were now pulling glasses out of the boxes and polishing them before placing them on the table. The welcome drinks for the wedding tonight. This would all be so beautiful if it wasn’t so tragic.
‘Excuse me, but I’m looking for the lady who organised all this? Josie Cairney?’
Three of the team looked blank, but the other one, maybe the supervisor, spoke up.
‘Do you mean the wedding planner? An older lady? White hair?’
Caro couldn’t help thinking that Josie would take this guy out with a tea towel for calling her an ‘older lady’.
‘Yes!’ Relief. ‘Is she here?’
He was scanning the room quizzically now. ‘She was here not long ago, checking that everything was the way she wanted it and that we were on schedule. But… I don’t know where she went. I’m guessing she took off. No idea where.’
Damn. Bugger.
‘Could she be in one of the other rooms?’ The thought made Caro’s insides twist. The other area they’d booked for the night was under the large dome, just down the wide corridor. She knew it would be set up with chairs for the ceremony and lined with tables that would later be laden with the food and the drink for the party they’d planned down to the last detail. One that she’d no longer be attending.
‘I was just in the wedding room and there was no one there,’ one of the waitresses offered.
Caro sagged with relief. She didn’t want to go in there, didn’t want to see the beauty that she was walking away from.
Josie must have gone, must have taken off back to Val and the others at the flat. And that’s where she had to go now too.
She murmured her thanks and left the building, gasping for air as she stepped into the cold outside. What was she doing? How had it all come to this? Had she completely lost her mind?
She tried to take a step, but the thought of facing everyone sent a jolt of anxiety through her that rooted her feet to the ground. She couldn’t do it. Not yet.
Instead of heading towards the park gates that she’d come in through only a few minutes ago, she walked along one of the other paths. Something in her soul needed to walk in the gardens, to sit in the tranquillity and block out the rest of the world before she went home and faced everyone.
She walked on, following the concrete path, until it ca
me to a fork. She veered off to the right, to a beautiful little pagoda surrounded by oriental flowers that she couldn’t name. It was breathtaking. But, most of all, it made her feel like she was the only person left in the world.
The wooden bench was dry when she sat on it and she loosened off the damp layers of her duffle coat, the wooden apex of the little roof protecting her from the drizzle. She laid her head against the wall behind her and closed her eyes. What the hell was she doing with her life? What was she thinking? Everything felt so wrong, yet she just didn’t know how to fix it.
The irony was that she wanted to be alone, yet the loneliness was consuming her.
‘I wish you were here, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘More than anything. I wish… I wish there was some way you could tell me if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.’
Twenty
Seb
The church was almost silent, yet the noise in his head was deafening. The sound of the smash was as vivid in his mind now as it was back then. The bang, immediately followed by the sickening, brutal grind of twisting metal. His head thudded off the steering wheel in front of him, then a moment of blackness, then the screams, all his, because Juliet was silent, her body thrown forward and twisted, her limbs at odd angles, her neck snapped backwards, her face… oh God, her face. A mask of red, resting on the dashboard. Above it, a smear of blood coming downwards from the imprint on the smashed windscreen where her beautiful face had shattered the glass. Her eyes were open, staring at him, but seeing nothing. She was gone. He reached over, cradled her body, and he sobbed, begged her to come back to him, pleaded until the paramedics gently prised his fingers from her and carried him from the car.
A cough from one of the pews behind him brought Seb back to the present. Only then did he realise that his chest was sore, that his breaths were coming in short, sharp bursts, his ribcage constricting his lungs. This was why he’d drank way too much over the last six months. The only thing that made his muscles unclench was the second, maybe the third, glass of wine, that numbed the pain just enough to make it possible to carry on breathing.
