Under special care, p.13
Under Special Care, page 13
She and Matt had invited her parents to stay several times in the early stages of her pregnancy and it had been almost as if all four of them had been trying to compensate for what they had missed. And it had been during this time that her parents had grown very fond of Matt.
So, would it have been different? She may well have gone on to become pregnant in time, may even have lost that first baby, but would she and Matt have gone on to separate, to be where they were now, on the very edge of divorce?
Quite suddenly Louise found herself doubting it, because if it had all happened in the way she was imagining then it would have been because Matt had wanted to marry her in the first place, because she had wanted to marry him, because the time had been right for them both and because they hadn’t felt under any pressure to do so. Instead, the way she felt now was that it had all been a dreadful mistake.
Sometimes, inevitably, she had also wondered what would have happened if her baby had lived, but that was an avenue she still found extremely painful and difficult to explore. Maybe everything would have been all right—who knew? Or equally, maybe they would still have found themselves in the same situation they were today.
All Louise really knew was that she was beginning to find the whole thing an incredible strain, having Matt so close, and that she would be relieved when the weekend, and Michelle’s and Andy’s wedding, was over.
CHAPTER TEN
FROM very early on Saturday morning the sun struggled to penetrate the mist, which hung over the river and drifted wraith-like through the willows and across the distant water meadows. Louise was up early and had showered and dressed and was enjoying orange juice and toast on the balcony when her phone rang.
‘Just thought I’d make sure you were up,’ said Matt, and for some reason at the sound of his voice her heart turned over. ‘Can’t have the chief attendant being late. I understand that’s the prerogative of the bride.’
‘The bride won’t be late either, not if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ said Louise lightly. ‘And while we’re on that subject, shouldn’t you be checking on the groom?’
‘I’ve already done that,’ said Matt. ‘He’s cut himself shaving apparently but apart from that I think he’s on course—I’m on my way over to his flat now.’
‘And I’ll soon be going to help Michelle.’
‘Looks like it’s going to be a fine day.’
‘Yes, looks that way,’ she agreed.
‘Right.’ It was obvious he wasn’t sure what else to say. ‘I’ll see you in church then.’
‘Yes, all right, Matt, see you in church,’ she agreed faintly. She replaced the receiver and for a long moment sat staring at the phone, her mind in turmoil. Then, taking a deep breath, she stood up and went to get ready.
Michelle’s parents, Sue and Henry Burns, lived in a beautiful house on the far side of Franchester set back from the road amidst a mass of mimosa and flowering cherry trees. A marquee had been erected on the lawns at the rear of the house to accommodate the many guests who had travelled from far and wide for the wedding of the couple’s only daughter to Andy Steane.
When Louise arrived, parking her car carefully in a corner of the drive well away from the main area that would later be filled with guests’ cars, the house was already humming with an air of excitement. A caterers’ van was parked in front of the main entrance and trays of food were being carried into the house, while from another smaller van two women were transporting large floral arrangements, bouquets, posies and dozens of buttonholes.
Sue was in the spacious hallway of the house, apparently directing traffic. ‘That’s right,’ she was saying as Louise came through the door, ‘flowers through there, those trays straight into the marquee and—’ She broke off as she saw Louise. ‘Oh, Louise, good, there you are. Go straight up. Michelle is in her old room—the hairdresser and the manicurist will be here at any moment.’
Louise opened her mouth to speak but, realising instantly that she had lost Sue’s attention, closed it again and scurried up the stairs to Michelle’s bedroom. She found her friend in her bathrobe, pale-faced but calm, sitting on her bed surrounded by tissue paper, lace and satin lingerie and talking on her mobile phone.
Michelle waved to Louise then said into the phone, ‘So, he’s just arrived? That’s good. I can leave you in capable hands, then?’ She smiled. ‘Yes, Lou is here, too. Just keep telling yourself…’ she glanced at her bedside clock ‘…in five hours or so it’ll all be over and you’ll be able to relax and enjoy yourself…. Yes, I know you’ll still have your speech to do, but you’ll be fine, Andy, you really will. No, we can’t just forget it all and go straight off on honeymoon. What? Yes, darling, I love you, too. I’ll see you in church.’
With a sigh she disconnected and looked at Louise. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if it was fair to put Andy through all this,’ she said. ‘He’s as nervous as a rabbit this morning. Thank goodness he’s got Matt with him. I think if it had been his brother he wouldn’t have been any better than Andy, but if anyone can get him into shape and through this it will be Matt.’
The next couple of hours passed in a whirl of hairdressing, manicuring and make-up, followed by the arrival of four-year-old Mollie, who was to be Michelle’s flower girl, and her pageboy, Jack, who proudly told everyone that he was nearly five. Mrs Nesbitt was on hand to administer any last-minute adjustments to Michelle’s dress and at last, after helping Michelle, it was time for Louise to step into her own dress.
It felt good as the creamy folds of satin settled softly against her hips then swirled round her ankles. This was how her own wedding day should have been, she thought with a pang of regret, but it was no good thinking about that now, her own day, vastly different had gone and this was Michelle’s day.
When they were ready they left the bedroom and went down to the drawing room where Henry Burns, distinguished-looking in his morning suit, appeared to go into shock at the sight of his daughter in her wedding dress and Sue, resplendent in oyster dress and coat, was forced to dab at her eyes beneath the wide brim of her hat.
‘Don’t, Mum, please,’ said Michelle warningly, ‘you’ll start me off.’
‘I know. I’m sorry,’ said Sue with a sniff. ‘It’s just that you look so beautiful…doesn’t she, Henry?’
‘Just like a princess,’ her husband agreed with a catch in his voice, and briefly Louise found herself thinking of her own parents and of how they would have loved seeing her like this.
‘I’m a pwincess, too,’ said Mollie, her little face earnest.
‘Yes, darling,’ said Michelle as everyone laughed, relieved that the emotion of the moment had been diffused, ‘you’re a princess, too.’
Photographs followed as the official photographer, an amiable little man with wild, black curls and dark-rimmed glasses, cajoled and bullied them into the poses he wanted—Michelle, carrying her bouquet of lilies and cream roses, on the staircase, in the garden, with her mother, with Louise and the children and, finally, with her father.
At last they were ready to leave for the church. Sue and Michelle were with Mollie and Jack in a silver Rolls Royce, leaving Michelle to follow with her father in a vintage, dark green Bentley.
It was only a short distance to the church and by the time they left the house every tendril of the early morning mist had disappeared, giving way to a glorious late spring day of blue skies, blossom and bright sunshine. As they drew up outside the church the photographer hurried forward for more shots.
‘That’s the same man who was at your house,’ said Jack in awe, turning to Michelle’s mother.
‘Yes, it is,’ Sue agreed, ‘and I think, Jack, you’ll be seeing quite a lot of him today.’
There was a short wait in the church porch while from inside drifted the strains of Bach. Michelle arrived with her father, and after adjustments to her dress and more photographs they formed themselves into the bridal procession, the notes from the organ swelled, Bach gave way to ‘The Bridal March’ and with Louise walking behind Michelle and Henry, and behind her, Jack, and Mollie with her basket of rose petals, the long walk to the altar began.
Louise’s first impression as they came into the church out of the bright sunlight and turned into the central aisle was of a sea of hats, hats of every size and every colour. And the flowers, floral set pieces and posies on the ends of the pews in the white and cream of Michelle’s bouquet and whose fragrance, mingling with that of incense and beeswax, filled the air. She was aware of the hats moving, of heads turning, of people craning their necks to see Michelle. There were fleeting glimpses of familiar faces, of mutual friends and colleagues. She saw the smiles of approval, handkerchiefs held to damp eyes, shafts of sunlight that pierced the jewel-like brilliance of stained-glass windows, and was aware of Michelle’s dress and the folds of her train dragging slightly, pulled by the pile of the red and blue carpet as she moved slowly and proudly to meet her bridegroom.
Then they were there, and Andy and Matt, achingly handsome in morning suits, were turning to greet Michelle. The vicar, resplendent in ceremonial cope moved forward to greet them and momentarily Louise was aware of the expression on Matt’s face as his gaze turned from Michelle and came to rest on her.
In that moment it was as if this was their wedding day all over again and he was turning to welcome her. Wonderingly, his gaze took in her dress with its beaded bodice and softly flowing skirt, her hair with its diamanté clip, the cream and shell pink roses she carried, finally coming back to her eyes, holding her gaze as if searching to find his own emotions reflected there, before turning at last to witness what was taking place before him.
And Louise herself was suddenly filled with a feeling of such peace and happiness it was almost beyond description as the vicar opened the ceremony in the time-honoured way. ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation to witness the joining together of this man and this woman in holy matrimony…’
Michelle and Andy had decided on the traditional service from the Book of Common Prayer, together with old and much-loved hymns, prayers and the reading from Corinthians about love. The strains of ‘Love Divine’ filled the church followed by the beautiful and poignant words of the marriage vows… ‘To have and to hold…from this day forward…in sickness and in health…until death us do part…’ And throughout it all, for Louise, standing there behind Michelle as she made those solemn vows to Andy, it was as if it was a reminder to her, and to Matt, of the commitment they had once made to each other, and she found herself having to fight the lump that had risen in her throat as she tried not to dwell on the fact that they were about to break that commitment.
During the signing of the register the choir sang Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’ and almost before Louise knew it the strains of ‘The Wedding March’ rose to the rafters and Matt was taking her arm for the triumphant procession down the aisle behind Michelle and Andy and their parents, and the happiness she had felt throughout the service seemed to flow through her very veins and explode, together with the tumultuous peal of bells, as they stepped out of the church into the warmth of the spring sunshine.
The little photographer darted here, there and everywhere, flash bulbs popped, confetti filled the air, kisses were exchanged and hats admired.
‘Doesn’t she look lovely?’ Suddenly Nicky was at Louise’s side. ‘That dress is exquisite.’
‘She looks radiant,’ Louise replied, ‘quite radiant.’
And she did. If happiness could be summed up in one word that day it would have been Michelle—Michelle as she gazed into Andy’s eyes as they posed for photographs, Michelle as she accepted compliments and congratulations from family and friends, and Michelle as she had exchanged her lifelong vows with the man she loved.
Champagne was awaiting the wedding party and their guests on their return to the house and after yet more photographs they all made their way into the marquee where the guests took their places at round tables covered with cream damask cloths and bearing centrepieces of pink and cream roses. Louise found herself seated beside Matt at the long table reserved for the wedding party.
‘Shouldn’t I be on the other side, near Michelle?’ she whispered to Matt.
‘I swapped the name cards,’ he murmured.
‘Why?’ Her eyes widened.
‘Because I wanted to sit next to you. Surely no one can object to that…’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Louise replied wryly. ‘Michelle’s mum is giving you some very frosty looks. Michelle told me she spent weeks on the seating plan.’
‘Leave Michelle’s mum to me.’ Standing up, Matt moved swiftly down the table and took Sue’s hand in his. When she looked up, he gazed down into her eyes, then bent his head and whispered something into her ear. He was back with only seconds to spare before the vicar brought the guests to their feet while he said grace.
‘Whatever did you say to her?’ whispered Louise as they sat down again. ‘She’s positively beaming at us. I thought she’d be furious with anyone who messed up her arrangements.’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ he replied smoothly, then, before she could protest, he added, ‘You look wonderful, you know, Louise, in that dress.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled.
‘I mean it. I know it’s Michelle’s day and she looks lovely, too, but there’s something about you in that dress…’ He trailed off, shaking his head as if unable to continue. He was saved by the arrival of the food—cream of asparagus soup, followed later by Scottish salmon then noisettes of lamb marinated in rosemary sauce and served with tender baby vegetables. For dessert there were individual pavlovas filled with raspberries and kiwi-fruit and each course was accompanied by the finest wines.
After coffee the bride and groom were called upon to cut the three-tier cake, which was decorated with tiny replicas of Michelle’s bouquet, and while the caterers whipped the cake away to be cut into portions, champagne was poured and Henry rose to his feet for his speech. It was inevitably an emotional speech, ending in sympathetic applause before Henry proposed a toast. ‘Michelle and Andy, the bride and groom.’
‘Michelle and Andy!’
‘The bride and groom!’ The company rose to its feet, raising their glasses, and then it was Andy’s turn. His nervousness was almost tangible as in the time-honoured fashion he began, ‘On behalf of my lovely wife and myself…’ He went on to thank all those who needed to be thanked. He ended his speech by thanking the attendants and inviting everyone to raise their glasses and to drink a toast to Louise, and to Mollie and Jack.
As he sank down onto his chair in obvious relief, Matt rose to his feet to reply. Looking up at him, Louise was suddenly and unexpectedly overwhelmed by a sudden flood of emotion at the sight of the handsome man at her side. There was no trace of nerves as he captured his audience, held them by recounting a few amusing incidents from the student life he and Andy had shared then went on to produce roars of laughter with a couple of further well-chosen anecdotes. He ended by reading a few of the many messages of goodwill the couple had received from friends living abroad who had been unable to attend the ceremony.
The celebrations continued into the evening with the marquee being cleared for dancing and the jazz band that had been playing throughout the afternoon being replaced by a disco.
Michelle and Andy were invited to lead the dancing to the strains of ‘Unchained Melody’, which Louise knew had always been ‘their song’.
‘Shall we join them?’ murmured Matt in her ear as Sue and Henry and Andy’s parents took to the floor. And it seemed the most natural thing to do as she slipped easily into his arms and they danced to the familiar strains of the song beloved by lovers everywhere.
‘Are you happy?’ he murmured once against her cheek.
‘Oh, yes,’ she replied dreamily, ‘very.’
‘Me, too,’ he sighed, and held her even closer.
And she was, Louise thought, almost in surprise. At that moment, dancing with Matt at her best friend’s wedding, she was at peace with herself and with the world. No matter that soon, after this day was over, they had agreed to set in motion the chain of events that would bring their own marriage to an end, able for the time being to forget that and to enjoy the simple pleasure of being in his arms again.
And it was a pleasure, she realised with a sudden little sense of shock. It had been a pleasure when they had danced before at the club, however briefly, and when Matt had kissed her, although she had put that down to the drink. And maybe that’s all this was, she told herself ruefully, because when all was said and done the champagne had flowed freely that day. But, whatever it was, it still felt good and she was aware of admiring glances from their friends and colleagues and from Angelo and Maria, who had closed the restaurant that day to attend the wedding, as if they all wholly approved of what they were seeing.
All too soon the number was over, but far from releasing her, Matt continued to hold her throughout the following two numbers and only let her go after extracting a promise that she would dance again with him later.
‘Of course,’ she agreed with a laugh. ‘But you must dance with other women.’
‘Who do you mean?’ he asked warily.
‘Well, Michelle…’
‘Of course.’
‘And her mum.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, and Andy’s mum and—’
‘All right, I get the picture.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll continue with my duties as best man until the very end.’
Louise smiled as he moved away and she saw him dancing with other women, but later, as she danced with an uncle of Michelle’s, she caught sight of Tina Gordon in Matt’s arms, smiling up at him and whispering in his ear, and she felt a profound stab of something so painful she could only believe it to be jealousy. Which was crazy really when she considered just where they were in their marriage and where it was going. She knew in the future she was simply going to have to get used to seeing other women with Matt because there was no way that a man like him was going to be on his own for long. Already Tina had expressed interest in Matt and at the same time had indicated a willingness on his part, so it wasn’t really surprising they had sought each other out to dance, she thought miserably as Michelle’s uncle twirled her round a few times at the end of the number.
