Willow's Wedding Vows: a laugh out loud romantic comedy with a twist!

by Debbie Viggiano

  ‘Good,’ said Charlie, sounding pleased.

  Sizzling chemistry, eh?

  He failed to notice Willow looking momentarily stricken.

  Sizzling chemistry.

  Was that what she’d felt when she’d spoken to Noah on FaceTime?

  His voice had sent multiple shivers and tingles zinging up and down her spine. Just like a song you hear on the radio and then can’t get out of your head, Willow had been haunted ever since by Noah’s twinkling eyes and handsome face.

  Charlie scraped his plate, popping a final forkful of beans in his mouth. A second later, and he was starting to regret it. Perhaps he shouldn’t have eaten so many. They didn’t always agree with him. A schoolboy rhyme pinged into his head.

  Beans, beans,

  Good for the heart,

  The more you eat,

  The more you fart,

  And the more you fart,

  The better you feel,

  So eat baked beans with every meal.

  But he wasn’t going to fart. He was going to propose. Bugger romance. It wasn’t necessary. After all, the question itself was surely romantic enough. Wasn’t it? Of course it was! Willow would be gobsmacked. Amazed. Delighted. She’d probably burst into tears. The time had come. Time to do it. Now. Yes, indeed. He fidgeted in anticipation. Ouch. His phone was digging into his bum. Best remove it from his back pocket, and then he’d go down on one knee. Wiggling the mobile out of his jeans, Charlie placed it face-up on the table, then cleared his throat.

  ‘Ahem. Er, Willow. You asked me earlier if… ahem, ahem… something was on my… ahem… mind.’

  ‘Did I?’ said Willow, looking up in surprise.

  ‘Yes. You did. And… ahem… there is… ahem…’

  H-e-l-p.

  ‘Do you want a glass of water?’ said Willow, pushing back her chair.

  ‘No, no,’ Charlie protested, catching her wrist. ‘Sit down. I’ll be all right. Just… um… a bit nervous.’

  His stomach gurgled in agreement as the baked beans travelled through his intestines.

  ‘Nervous about what?’

  Come on, Charlie. Man up.

  ‘Well,’ he said, getting slowly to his feet.

  He grabbed the table’s edge to steady himself.

  ‘I do indeed have something on my mind.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Something quite momentous.’

  Charlie lowered himself down on one knee.

  ‘Willow…’

  Her eyes widened. Oh. My. Goodness. Her boyfriend was down on one knee. Was he… no, surely not… but then again, could he possibly be…?

  ‘Yes?’ she said tremulously.

  Before Charlie could say anything, his mobile began to ring. Ben’s name lit up the display. Oh no. What did his mate want? The timing couldn’t be worse. He’d let it go to voicemail. A second later, and the phone went silent.

  ‘Willow…’ Charlie repeated, just as the phone once more exploded into life.

  Ben. Again. Damn, it must be important.

  ‘One moment,’ he said to Willow, lunging for the mobile.

  His stomach gave another gurgle. He couldn’t stay down on one knee for much longer. Gravity was playing havoc with his bowels. He’d quickly take the call from Ben, propose to Willow, and then dash to the loo.

  ‘Hello?’ he barked.

  ‘Mate, I’m hitching a lift back to Mosley with Drummond. But before we set off, I’m giving you the heads up.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘That little blonde number you were with yesterday evening. Sophie. You cleared off, but she didn’t.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Charlie, his guts twisting with anxiety.

  ‘She’s been doing some detective work and discovered Drummond is your boss. She’s threatening to tell him everything in a bid to destroy your reputation and career. Sophie has already put me in the picture. I know about the baby. She’s also told me that there are two brothers and a father baying for your blood. You’ve got your work cut out with this one, matey.’

  ‘Oh God,’ said Charlie, paling.

  ‘I’ll talk to you when I’m back. Sophie has made a list of demands. I can tell you now that unless you meet them, you’re going to be in shit street. Right, I’ve got to go. Drummond’s coming.’

  The line went dead.

  Charlie grasped the phone in anguish. He looked up at Willow helplessly. She was still staring at him, apparently spellbound.

  ‘You were saying?’ she prompted.

  ‘Willow…’ he tried again.

  ‘Yes?’

  But Ben’s news had upset Charlie’s equilibrium. Frazzled nerves, combined with the baked beans, were producing an aching need to fart.

  ‘Darling, will you… will you… let me go to the toilet?’

  And clutching both his phone and his stomach, Charlie belted off to the bathroom.

  Fifty-One

  Willow was perplexed. For a moment there, Charlie had set her heart racing. After all, why did a man ever go down on one knee? Well, to ask for a girl’s hand in marriage, that’s why.

  Except Charlie hadn’t proposed. He’d simply dropped to the floor, pulled some extraordinary faces and then legged it to the loo. But… he’d said there was something on his mind. Something momentous.

  Willow wondered what Charlie had been going to ask. And although he’d said it was significant, it was more likely to be something dull and boring. She could imagine Charlie now saying, “As we’ve had bacon, eggs and all the trimmings for lunch, could we have something light for tea? Maybe a sandwich?” Food was a big deal for some men, and maybe Charlie had considered it important?

  Or perhaps he’d wanted to tell her something awful. Her eyes widened with alarm. Oh my goodness. What if Charlie had been trying to say he wanted to break up? Willow was immediately reminded of Emma confiding how her mystery boyfriend had dumped her.

  ‘He took both my hands in his, looked deep into my eyes, and then said we needed to take a break.’

  Willow had thought it strange that the mystery man had taken Emma’s hands in his. It was an action of affection, after all. But Emma had dismissed the notion.

  ‘He probably held my hands so I couldn’t whack him,’ she’d quipped.

  But maybe Charlie had gone down on one knee for neither of those reasons. Perhaps he’d done it to simply relieve some intestinal wind. Well, whatever the reason, it couldn’t have been to propose. After all, it was only eight days ago – her birthday dinner no less – that she’d tentatively raised the subject of marriage to him. And look how that had turned out. Charlie had reversed away so quickly he could have beaten Usain Bolt in a running backwards race.

  Bemused, Willow stood up. Dumping the lunch plates in the sink, she then set about cleaning the hob.

  Upstairs in the bathroom, Charlie’s bowels reflected the torment he was in. He wanted to know the full story about Sophie. How had she discovered that Drummond was Charlie’s boss? He prayed Sophie wouldn’t wreck his career. She couldn’t really do that, could she? Charlie considered for a moment. Right now, Ben was probably with Drummond. However, Charlie didn’t want to wait another second. He needed to know what the heck had been going on in Birmingham since his hasty departure. Even though Drummond would now be in the car with Ben, perhaps he could somehow speak to Ben in code. Charlie frowned. Maybe he could ask loads of questions aimed at whittling out the truth while Ben simply answered “yes” or “no”. Right, good idea.

  Ben answered his phone almost immediately.

  ‘Hey, matey. How is Willow feeling?’

  Ben was speaking in a very hearty manner. Overly hearty. Charlie instantly deduced that Ben was close to Drummond. Like… a handbrake’s proximity. If the signal was good, Drummond might even be able to overhear what Charlie was saying. Charlie took his cue from Ben and played along.

  ‘She’s not so good,’ Charlie replied, just as his bowels gave another noisy lurch.

  Heavens, at this rate he’d
be solely responsible for accelerating global warming.

  ‘I’m with her now. You know, offering support and reassuring her. It’s probably one of those nasty twenty-four-hour things, but Willow felt like she was dying last night. I had no choice but to rush home.’

  ‘Mr Drummond says you did the right thing,’ Ben assured. ‘He also says he’s sorry you were unable to attend this morning’s meeting, but he’s very impressed that you’re so caring. I’ve told him that you’re devoted to Willow, and that nothing can get in the way when it comes to her well-being. Not even an important work convention.’

  Charlie could sense Ben nodding away in the passenger seat of Drummond’s car.

  ‘Oh absolutely, although I had to really wrestle with my conscience. After all, I love my job. And the company. I even love’ – Charlie grimaced – ‘Mr Drummond. I’ll do everything I can to secure that next important client. That next target breakthrough. But Willow is my ultimate priority. I’d lay my life down for her. There’s never been anyone else.’

  Steady on, Charlie. Don’t overdo it or Drummond might smell a rat.

  ‘Mr Drummond asks me to convey his best wishes to Willow for a speedy recovery. Oh… hang on a moment, Charlie.’

  There was a pause as Ben conferred with their boss. Charlie strained to hear what was happening. There came the sound of a car’s engine stalling. No, wait. It had been switched off.

  ‘A cappuccino to take away would be very nice, Mr Drummond. Thank you.’

  Now a car door was opening. Seconds later it had clunked shut.

  Ben let out a gusty sigh.

  ‘I can talk, but probably only for five minutes max.’

  ‘Where’s Drummond gone?’

  ‘We’ve pulled into a garage. The car needs diesel. Then he’s going to grab us coffee to have on the go.’

  ‘Then don’t waste a second,’ Charlie hissed.

  He lowered his voice, just in case Willow was lurking on the other side of the bathroom door.

  ‘Tell me what’s been happening with Sophie.’

  ‘Okay. There I was minding my own business and enjoying some breakfast at the hotel, when this woman crashed into the dining room. She was breathing heavily. Like she’d run a marathon or something. She was scanning the diners in such an intense way she reminded me of Arnie in The Terminator. Her eyes locked on mine and suddenly she was striding over. Thankfully the others were in the buffet queue, so I was on my own. I recognised her instantly. It was the girl you went off with on Saturday night.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Charlie, as his bowels promptly obliged.

  ‘She demanded to know where you were.’

  ‘To which you said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,”’ Charlie prompted.

  ‘I told her the truth,’ said Ben evenly. ‘I said you’d gone home. She said, “To his sister? Willow?” And I said, “No, to his partner, Willow.” And I can tell you now, matey, she looked so livid I thought her head was going to rotate three-hundred-and-sixty degrees. Either that or she’d start speaking in tongues.’

  ‘Right. So that bit of news didn’t go down well.’

  ‘It most certainly didn’t,’ Ben agreed. ‘And then she said she knew which company had been using the hotel’s business facilities. Apparently her cousin has a friend who has an aunty who has a bestie who works at the hotel, and was happy to discreetly breach the Data Protection Act and supply Sophie with our company’s details.’

  ‘Bugger,’ Charlie groaned.

  ‘Even worse, she’s also been given a list of every employee who has attended this weekend and every employee’s address.’

  ‘What?’ Charlie yelped.

  ‘Sophie also knows that Drummond is your boss.’

  ‘Can’t you tell her that I gave a false address. That I’ve moved. That you have no idea where I am because… I know… I’ve been fired from the company?’

  ‘Mate, don’t even jest about getting fired. She’s threatening to tell Drummond everything. To bring your name into disrepute. She’s already given him some chat-up.’

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Charlie hissed.

  ‘Sadly not. She sought Drummond out and told him she was a relative of yours.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Charlie groaned.

  ‘Don’t panic. At least, not for now. However, Drummond thinks she’s delightful and gave away loads of info about you. He told her all about Willow and what a lovely girl she was. Sophie made out she used to work with her.’

  Charlie clutched his head in horror.

  ‘Anyway, Sophie has told me to tell you that you need to cough up. She wants you to pay to fix her situation. She also wants a recuperation period. Somewhere hot and sunny. Dubai was mentioned. Oh, and not just for her, but also with her mother and sister. She says she needs them with her for support. She also said that if you don’t meet her very reasonable demands, she won’t hesitate to tell Drummond what a scumbag you are. Even worse, she’ll turn up on your doorstep and tell Willow.’

  ‘Do you think she’s telling a pack of lies and trying to pull a fast one.’

  ‘Mate, I have no idea. All I know is that she’s got you by the short and curlies.’

  ‘B-But,’ Charlie stammered. ‘This will cost me a small fortune.’

  ‘Then don’t give in to her demands.’

  ‘But what if she carries out her threat and tells Willow?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what she tells Willow, if you tell Willow first.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ said Charlie, appalled. ‘Willow would dump me.’

  ‘She’ll dump you anyway if she finds out about this. Better to hear it from you, than some woman turning up in a billowing maternity dress.’

  Charlie thought he might actually puke.

  ‘N-No. I’m not telling Willow anything. I’ll pay Sophie off. It will be worth every penny.’

  ‘You’re so caring,’ said Ben sarcastically.

  ‘Hey, don’t be like that,’ said Charlie in annoyance. ‘What would you do in my position?’

  ‘Mate, I’d have put a sock on it and been more responsible.’

  ‘Yeah, okay. Says the man who was seeing another woman while he was still living with Anna.’

  ‘Don’t try and score cheap points,’ said Ben in annoyance. ‘At least I did the honourable thing and told the girl in question that I was living with someone else. It’s not like we slept together. It was completely innocent in that sense. And anyway, I’m now apart from Anna, and I still haven’t resumed things with the lady because I don’t want it to be a rebound. So don’t compare me to you, mate. I love you like a brother, Charlie, but sometimes you can be such an arsehole.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Charlie placatingly. ‘I asked for that. Sorry.’

  ‘Apology accepted,’ said Ben.

  He wasn’t one to hold grudges.

  ‘Did Sophie say anything else?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘She did.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That you remind her of toilet paper.’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘Because you’re the sort of bloke who never appreciates what he’s got until it’s gone.’

  ‘Right,’ said Charlie, reaching for the toilet paper.

  He tugged on the roll. It delivered two sheets before turning into an empty cardboard cylinder. Charlie stared at it. He’d run out of toilet paper. It eerily echoed Sophie’s comment. But she hadn’t been completely right with her mocking words. Okay, yes, maybe Charlie had been the sort of bloke who’d never appreciated what he’d got until it had gone, but now he was a reformed character. And he was going to prove it.

  Just as soon as he managed to get off this damn toilet.

  Fifty-Two

  Unbeknownst to Willow, Charlie had a secret stash of money.

  Throughout his years working for Drummond, Charlie had assisted many clients. He’d helped them thwart the Inland Revenue as much as was legally possible. Sometimes there were blurred lines between tax avoidance and tax evasion
, but Charlie had always managed to create a middle ground. He was proud of the fact that not one of his clients had ever been investigated by HMRC. Whether advising sole traders to register as a corporation in order to reduce their tax bill, or whether concocting a legitimate inheritance tax plan, Charlie knew that where there was a financial will, there was a way. Apart from being rewarded with an excellent salary, he also enjoyed twice yearly bonuses. It was the latter that Willow knew nothing about.

  Charlie had put the bonuses “in a safe place” and watched them grow. He had a vague notion about what he’d one day spend it on… a moment of madness blowing the whole lot in a Vegas casino. Or buying a sports car. Or even a desert island. They were more affordable than people thought. Although perhaps scrap that last idea. Desert islands didn’t have Sky Sport. But never had Charlie anticipated spending a five-figure sum on a woman he’d only met twice.

  In the days that followed Sophiegate, Charlie’s head had been like an overstuffed washing machine threatening to blow the door off. He’d sought to relieve his stress by drinking too much, so much so that Willow had raised one eyebrow and asked Charlie if he’d received word that the grape harvest had failed.

  Charlie’s solicitor had produced a hastily drawn up document. In exchange for Sophie receiving a lump sum, she’d had to agree to three conditions. Firstly, she would never contact Charlie, Willow, or anyone at Charlie’s workplace. Secondly, she would never reveal the financial arrangement, or the reasons for it, to anyone. Thirdly, any breach of the contract would cause the lump sum to be repaid with interest and compensation. She’d signed on the dotted line, taken the money, and told Charlie to go to hell. Ultimately, he was simply grateful to have gotten away with it by the skin of his very white teeth.

  As time went by, Charlie had felt himself slowly relaxing. Life was peaceful again, and he was loving it. He considered himself a changed character. He didn’t need man-trappers like Sophie, or sex-mad nutcases like Kev. He’d received some texts from Kev testing the water for resuming their affair.