‘Let’s get this rehearsal over with,’ Sam said. ‘Then the fun can begin.’
4
THE REHEARSAL
Adam, Sam, Ross, and Danny walked down the stairs and out of the front door, breathing in the salty seaside air. They trooped across the grass and rounded the corner of the attractive house. Danny let out a long, impressed whistle at what he saw.
A huge white marquee sat in the middle of a wide garden, framed by the cloudless blue sky and a garden of roses that overlooked the sea.
They walked in through the open doors and took in the opulence. Rows of chairs, draped in ivory material and backed with a purple bow, filled the space. A wide aisle bisected them; the red carpet so thick it looked like you could sink into it. Fairy lights had been threaded through the material in the ceiling and five-feet-tall letters, spelling LOVE, had been positioned beside the stand-in alter at the front.
‘Mate, this wedding must be costing you a fortune!’ Danny laughed. ‘Oh no, wait, it’s not costing you a thing because you’re marrying into North Coast royalty.’
The Campbell family, that Sam was marrying into, were well known for being high rollers. Emily’s father, Trevor, was a stern man, as the CEO of a company probably had to be. He had a huge face, barely any neck, and the body shape of a gorilla. Her mother worked in one of the big banks in Belfast, only coming home at the weekends to their mansion by the sea in Stonebridge.
Trevor doted on his only daughter – it was the only thing he was ever soft about - and had offered to pay for the whole thing. He’d pulled strings and called in many a favour to get the weekend booked out at Milton Manor; the most exclusive venue in the area.
He was not a man to be trifled with.
The boys walked around the interior of the marquee, taking in the finer details and the stunning view from the large window. Adam watched Sam cast an admiring glance around, noticing the emotion in his eyes. This probably made everything seem a bit more real now.
They were interrupted by the arrival of the vicar, who shouted a cheery hello to get the boys’ attention.
Reverend Fred, as they called him, was a well-known figure in their hometown and one of the nicest men in the world. As well as his weekly sermons, which none of the boys attended anymore, he was always at the heart of the community. Every Christmas, he took part in a sponsored sleep out, with all the money going to charity. He was often to be found in the shadow of the town hall, wrapped up in warm clothes and smiling at the late-night shoppers.
He called them to the front and they dutifully assembled, shaking his extended hand one at a time.
‘Sam,’ he said, turning to the front and smiling at the soon-to-be married man. ‘I cannot believe that little Sammy who used to cry when his mummy dropped him off to Sunday school all those years ago is getting married.’
Fred winked at the rest of the boys, who pushed and jostled Sam playfully.
‘I won’t keep you for long, boys,’ said Fred. ‘I know you’ve got other things to attend to.’
For a few minutes, they listened intently to what Fred had to say. As the male contingent of the wedding party, their job was fairly simple. They’d all be at the front already, awaiting the arrival of the bride. The only thing anyone really had to do was Danny, who would be in charge of handing over the rings at the right time.
Fred then positioned them into roughly where they’d be standing. Sam in the centre, flanked by Danny, then Ross, with Adam at the end. When walking out, they’d pair up with a bridesmaid, link arms and make their way down the aisle and outside for photographs.
‘Can one of you assume the role of Emily?’ Fred asked. ‘Just so that we can go through the vows. Sometimes it helps to say them once so that you know what’s coming on the day.’
Danny stepped forward into the spot that Emily would be occupying on the actual day.
‘Now, it’ll have to be a secret that I’m marrying you two tonight,’ Fred laughed. ‘Don’t tell Emily.’
‘I’ll add it to my ever-growing list of secrets,’ Danny said, winking at Sam.
Only Sam seemed to know what Danny was talking about, judging by the colour of his face as he fought to bite back the rage.
The vicar carried on with the practice vows. Sam’s voice caught on certain lines, and even Adam felt a little lump in his throat as he imagined how his friend was feeling.
After the vows, Sam and Fred hugged, before the vicar bid them goodbye. They watched him walk across the grass towards the car park.
‘Let’s go get smashed,’ Danny said, breaking the icy silence.
5
A RIGHT OLD KNEES UP
Colin made his way down the curved staircase, holding on to the heavy wooden banister. Safety was paramount in his workplace – The Stonebridge Retirement Home – and he often found himself adhering to the same rules he imposed on the old folks that he cared for. He often got funny looks from the visiting relatives – he supposed it wasn’t all that usual for a man in his mid-twenties to work in such a place – but he loved every second of it and hoped to work there for many years to come.
Before he’d started there, he’d often assumed that old folk’s homes were a stepping stone away from heaven. He’d started working there at weekends, to earn a bit of money while he studied at university, but he soon fell in love with the place and the people. His perceptions of old people changed immediately. They were full of life and stories, and he couldn’t get enough. Upon graduating, he had immediately applied for a full-time position and was lucky enough to be offered the job. He’d never looked back.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he made his way through the foyer towards the room where all the noise was coming from. He smoothed his hair and opened the door, the volume of the music immediately increasing.
The wood-panelled room was huge. Circular tables with plush, velvet chairs around them took up most of the floor space, though a section at the end of the room had been set up as a makeshift dancefloor. Colourful lights blinked and twirled in preparation for whoever was brave enough to take to the black and white tiled floor first.
Colin scanned the room and found Adam at the bar, waiting to be served. Colin’s feet sunk into the thick, green carpet as he crossed the room and snuck up on his friend.
‘Looks like I’ve arrived just in time,’ he said as he reached Adam, making him jump. ‘Pint of Harp, please, and I’ll go find a seat.’
Colin strode across the room towards an empty table next to a wide, decorative fireplace with a coat of arms fixed to the wall above it. A few minutes later, Adam plonked two pints and a couple of packets of crisps onto the table, before settling into the spare seat. Colin thanked him and took a huge gulp of the lager, the fizz immediately getting him in the mood for a big night.
Adam, on the other hand, seemed subdued. He thought about his interactions with people he hadn’t seen since school. Most had moved to Belfast and were part way into their career. Some had even climbed a few rungs on that ladder already. He felt embarrassed having to admit that he’d dropped out of university, been unable to hold down a job and that he was still living at home with his mum. At school, he’d achieved excellent results in his exams, but what the teachers had constantly told him had turned out to be correct so far – he wasn’t good at applying himself.
He took a sip from his pint and vowed to make a change – this time next year he’d have a job and a place of his own. He just needed to figure out what his calling was, and sometimes that took time.
He remembered reading that Susan Boyle had been 47 when she auditioned on whatever talent show she’d gone on, and the guy who founded McDonald’s didn’t do it until he was 59. Some people simply came into their own a little later in life – like a fine wine.
After that comforting thought, he cheered up a bit.
They stayed at the table for a while, sipping from pints and watching the room fill up around them. They knew a lot of people from their school days, and Adam recognised some
of the faces as university pals of Sam’s.
Shortly after eight o’clock, platters of food arrived from the kitchen, carried by a team of smartly dressed waiters. They placed the silver trays on a long table covered in a tartan tablecloth. It didn’t take long for the aromas to drift to Adam’s side of the room, and only then did he realise how hungry he was. He and Colin joined the queue and before long they were eagerly scooping an assortment of food onto their plates.
As Adam squirted a generous helping of ketchup over the pile of chips on his plate, he caught sight of Sam and Danny, huddled in the corner of the room.
It looked like they were arguing.
Danny showed Sam something on his iPhone, causing Sam to push him on the shoulder. Someone asked Adam if he was finished with the tomato sauce, causing him to take his eyes off what was happening between the groom and his best man. When he looked back, Sam was sitting alone and there was no sign of Danny.
Adam quickly moved on from what he had seen as his thoughts turned towards the mountain of food on his plate. A plate which was almost sent flying as Mike, Emily’s brother, stumbled into Adam’s path.
‘Sorry, man,’ he mumbled, before moving out of Adam’s way, towards the bar. Adam watched him stumble away and marvelled at how brave he was in his fashion choices – pale green skinny jeans and a cravat were not the usual fare for the twenty-something Northern Irishman. Adam secretly wished he had the balls to try it, though.
By ten o’clock, the food had long since vanished and the serious matter of drinking was well under way.
The dancefloor was filled, mostly with women, their dresses illuminated by the rainbow lights, while the men sat around the perimeter of the room, nursing pints and discussing the soon-to-be-closed Premier League transfer window. Some of the braver menfolk were already making their moves on the dancefloor, trying and failing to impress their targets. It reminded Adam of a primary school disco. Or a David Attenborough documentary. He wasn’t sure which was sadder.
He took Colin’s drink order and walked to the bar. Whilst waiting to be served, he tried to strike up a conversation with a girl he recognised when he had visited Sam at his university across the water. She was polite, though declined his offer of a drink.
Typical, he thought, as he watched her carefully manoeuvre her way through the maze of tables and into the arms of a white shirted man. Adam turned his attention away from the couple and back to the bar. He ordered two pints and stood waiting while they were poured.
Suddenly, at a table nestled in an alcove to the rear of the bar, an altercation arose. One moment, Sam, Danny and Ross were chatting quietly, when all of a sudden Sam rose and shoved his best man in the chest.
Danny toppled over the back of his seat and banged his head on the carpeted floor. He rose gingerly and stood snarling, arms outstretched like a boxer. He shouted something that Adam couldn’t hear over the music.
Sam attempted to push himself out of his seat, but his twin forced him back down. Instead, Ross formed a wall between the two. He said something to Danny who threw his arms in the arm, turned and stormed past the bar. Adam watched him march out of the room without so much as a backward glance. Ross went to follow him, but Sam grabbed his arm and shook his head.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Adam glanced around the bar to see if anyone else had been witness to it, but was pretty sure he had been the sole onlooker.
Had the best man position just become available?
He grabbed his order from the bar and walked back to the table. He relayed what he had just seen to Colin, who listened carefully and dismissed it as a silly argument fuelled by wedding nerves and alcohol.
The rest of the night passed in a haze as lager turned into spirits and spirits turned into shots. At just after midnight, Adam and Colin stumbled up the stairs and unlocked their room after a few bumbling attempts. They both mumbled expletives as their bleary eyes focussed on the singular bed.
Adam fell asleep thinking that Colin’s feet smelled of brie.
6
NO SHOW AT BREAKFAST
Adam woke up in stages, head fuzzy with a monstrous hangover that was just getting going. Even without moving, he felt the contents of his stomach swirl, putting him in two minds – lie still and hope for the best, or run to the bathroom in preparation. The last thing he wanted was to throw up all over the bed and be handed a hefty cleaning bill.
His arm brushed against something in the bed – someone! With his eyes closed, he tried to piece together the night before. He remembered being shot down by an array of girls, but his memories trailed off shortly after that third shot…
Gingerly, he opened one eye. The light flowing in through the insubstantial fabric curtain caused him to wince in pain. The sight that greeted him wasn’t much better.
Colin’s hairy back and bum crack was not the first sight he’d have chosen for his eyes to settle on first thing in the morning. It did little to alleviate the sick feeling in his stomach.
Bathroom it was.
Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom feeling slightly better, though the taste left in his mouth was unholy. He looked at himself in the mirror and chuckled.
He looked worse than he felt. If that was even possible.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his head a cloud of pain. He unzipped his bag and fished in the front pocket, his hand clamping round its intended target. From the dimpled foil packet, he pushed out two tablets and guzzled them down with a glass of tap water.
A few minutes later, Colin joined him in the land of the living. He stretched his long limbs, yawned widely and jumped out of bed.
‘Morning,’ Adam croaked.
‘Morning. You feeling rough?’
‘I feel like I’ve been hit by a car.’
Colin chuckled. His friend had always been melodramatic. And terrible at holding his drink. He watched as Adam crawled into a foetal position on the bed, eyes closed.
‘I’m going for a run before breakfast, to clear the cobwebs.’
Adam’s reply was merely a look of disgust.
‘It’d do you the world of good,’ Colin laughed. ‘What are you going to do instead?’
‘Pray for mercy and try not to die.’
Colin had always found that life’s problems could be sorted out with a quick run. Working where he did, he encountered death on a regular basis. He considered himself stoic, but each passing affected him. The relationships he had with each of the old folk were so much more than professional. He grew to love them and each death rocked him. One of the old hands who worked there told him that running was a great way to help the head process what the heart couldn’t.
So, he did.
And he found that it worked a treat.
Today, though, he was running for a different reason. He liked to explore places he’d never been before, and running was a great way to do it.
He jogged at a leisurely pace down the country lane, watching the sheep doze lazily in vast fields while the wind buffeted him from behind, giving him an injection of pace.
Glancing to the other side, he took in the endless sea and the waves peacefully approaching the shore of the beach in the distance.
Sometimes, he took for granted how beautiful his part of the world was. Days like today reminded him that he shouldn’t.
After fifteen minutes, he came to a corner and stopped to catch his breath. He wished he’d had the foresight to bring some water, but he hadn’t banked on the sun being so hot so early in the morning.
Scanning the road, he saw a petrol station not far away; the only building to be seen amongst the rolling fields, aside from Milton Manor.
He picked up the pace and reached the petrol station in no time at all. The young man behind the desk watched Colin walk to the fridge and seemed surprised to have custom so early. Colin placed a bottle of ice-cold water on the counter and took out his card to pay.
‘We only take cash,’ the attendant apologised, pointing to a small hand
written note stuck to the counter. He looked at Colin’s sweaty clothes and clocked his annoyance. ‘But you can just have it. On me.’
Colin’s mood immediately brightened, and he promised that he’d bring the money on the next visit. He left the shop and downed the water before putting the empty bottle in the bin. He looked up at the roof covering the forecourt, which only had two pumps. It was a family-owned business. The Cox family who owned it must’ve encountered trouble before, as they’d installed two CCTV cameras, one pointing at the pumps with the other aimed at the narrow road that passed by it.
Reinvigorated, Colin ran all the way back to the wedding venue, keen for a shower before breakfast.
The lemony scent of Colin’s shower gel mingled with the smell of greasy bacon, causing Adam problems. He pushed his breakfast around the plate, not trusting his stomach to deal with the soda bread and potato farls that he would have ordinarily devoured.
He wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of last night.
Most were still in bed, unable to pull themselves from below their duvets, hoping that a few extra hours in bed would see them through the worst of the hangover.
Some who had braved breakfast were copying Adam, raising a forkful of food to their mouths before setting it back down on the plate, stomachs roiling.
A select few, like Colin, were wolfing their food down. Adam looked at their emptying plates with longing.
Sam, the groom, looked over from his table and caught Adam’s eye, calling him over with a flick of his finger.
‘Have you seen Danny this morning?’ he asked when Adam was beside him.
The Curious Dispatch of Daniel Costello Page 2
