A Wedding in the Sun

Chapter 30

‘Found it! I’ve got it!’

Liss came running over from the concrete retaining wall separating the beach from the marina, flapping the papers over her head. Adrián rushed to meet her, relief coursing through him. Compared to the kids missing the wedding, the insurance money wasn’t significant, but it would have been one of the stupidest mistakes of his life.

‘Oh my God, thank you, Liss,’ he said as he took the papers, keeping them in his hand this time and not tucking them under his arm.

‘Do I get a cut of the payout?’

He eyed her from under his brow, which was the only response she would get to that joke.

She shrugged and continued, ‘I don’t need a thank you hug, though. You can save them for Mum.’

He glanced at his watch and headed for the boardwalk, Liss falling into step beside him.

‘Whatever you did wrong last night?—’

‘Why do you assume it was me who did something wrong?’ he snapped.

It was Liss’s turn to give him a dubious look. ‘I know adults always say both parties were at fault.’

Her implication made him queasy. ‘Your mum wasn’t at fault,’ he defended immediately. ‘It’s just complicated, although I’m sure there was more I could have done to make things better.’ Like swallowing his pride and telling her how deep his feelings ran.

‘I was going to say I’m pretty sure Mum will forgive you. She just spoiled Oscar rotten.’

A grin made its way across his lips. ‘Did she?’

‘But this information doesn’t mean you have my support,’ she said gravely.

His smile faded. ‘I don’t?’

Pointing her finger at him, she said, ‘You’re on probation.’

‘Really not a word I wanted to hear on my way back from a police station, ni?a.’ He closed his mouth, wondering how the mild endearment had slipped out.

‘What did you call me?’

He cleared his throat. ‘It’s just a habit in Spain. To use the name of a person you like can be insulting, create distance. I just called you “little girl”, but I hope you don’t take it as an insult. I know you’re not a little girl.’

She nodded slowly, digesting his words. ‘What do you call Mum?’

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and heat prickled over his face. ‘“Corazón”,’ he answered, his voice not much louder than a whisper. ‘Also, I didn’t intend it. It just came out. It means “heart”.’ He pressed the backs of his fingers to his cheeks.

‘What did you call Mónica?’

He met her gaze ruefully. ‘“Mi amor”,’ he answered her straight. ‘But now it’s back to Mónica.’ She didn’t reply for a long moment. ‘I won’t call you ni?a if you don’t want,’ he said softly when they were nearly back at the boardwalk.

‘I suppose it depends on whether Mum lets you call her “corazón”,’ she said. ‘But even though you’re on probation… I like you too, Adrián. I like how you are with Mum.’

His throat clogged. ‘Me too,’ he mumbled. ‘I like how I am with your mum too.’

Adrián was in an infuriatingly good mood. He fiddled with the radio in the car as Jo navigated them out of Benicarló, connecting it to Liss’s phone, and they drove back to Pe?íscola singing along to the most upbeat pop music in her daughter’s library.

‘You know this song, don’t you?’ Adrián prompted her when ‘Watermelon Sugar’ came on.

‘I wouldn’t want to interrupt you two and your karaoke,’ she responded, checking her blind spot before merging onto a roundabout.

‘Ohhh, come on,’ he wheedled in that rumbly tone that she felt in her toes.

‘We’re rushing to the wedding!’ she insisted.

‘Singing and driving isn’t the same as texting and driving,’ he pointed out in mock earnestness.

‘Why are you so happy? Your guitar has been stolen and we’re going to be late to the wedding!’

‘We’ll make it!’ he disagreed cheerfully, pausing to sing some of the words and smile at Liss.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ she muttered. ‘So many roundabouts!’

Liss leaned forward and sang the little bridge section of the song, which Jo definitely did know – very well, in fact, given how many times Liss had turned it on at home.

With a final twitch of her pursed lips, she opened her mouth and sang along. By the time they rattled into the underground car park at the hotel, she was tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and even Dec had joined in with the next song, mumbling the occasional chorus.

She switched the engine off with a laugh. ‘Right,’ she said, turning to the children. ‘Chop chop. We’ve got ten minutes to get ready – if that.’

Adrián glanced at his watch. ‘Eh, five minutes?’

‘Shit,’ Jo said under her breath. ‘Can you call Mónica?’

‘I don’t think they have pockets in wedding dresses. Maybe you can call Ben.’

‘Maybe they’ve called the whole thing off.’

‘I know, I’ll call Alberto,’ Adrián said suddenly, scrolling on his phone screen as they all got out of the car. His conversation with his former father-in-law was surprisingly chatty. ‘All done. They can’t wait long, but if we hurry, we’ll make it.’

‘Was that really Alberto? I thought he hated… everyone.’

‘Not me,’ he said, giving her a wink. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

They rushed upstairs, Adrián pressing his hand to her back, making her jump and eye him. He was acting as though he’d forgotten their conversation the night before, which admittedly she wished she could. Except for one thing: he hadn’t kissed her. That was another oversight she would rather like him to correct, if they had a moment alone, which they wouldn’t have until… maybe ever.

Rushing into the corridor, they came to a sudden stop outside their hotel room doors, piling into Jo. She had to grab Oscar to stop him toppling over.

Adrián and Oscar’s door was no longer dented and broken, but it wasn’t there at all.

‘Well, that’s… an efficient repair job, I suppose,’ Adrián muttered. ‘I hope no one’s stolen my suit.’

‘I’m happy no one could steal Crabface,’ Oscar said cheerfully.

‘Come and get changed in our room,’ Jo offered, her throat closing too late to stuff that stupid idea back down. He appeared in the doorway of her room a moment later with a suit bag and an awkward smile.

‘I’m going to use their bathroom!’ Liss announced, brushing past Adrián.

‘I’ll use the bathroom here,’ Dec squeaked, dashing to claim that door.

Adrián’s awkward smile tightened. ‘Come on, mijo. Let’s at least put a nice shirt on,’ he said, ushering Oscar to the far side of the room. He fussed over Oscar, turning away pointedly.

Jo grimaced to remember she was still in her salty dress and hadn’t showered that day. Grabbing a handful of wet wipes with silent thanks to that family from the motorway, she mopped what she could and retrieved her dress from its hook with a deep breath.

Crunch time for Joanna Watters. She bit her lip, trying not to imagine Ben’s family’s reaction to her wearing this dress. Instead, she was looking forward to Adrián swallowing his tongue when he saw her. The floral fabric reminded her of the day before, when everything had seemed possible.

She watched him help Oscar with his little tie and warm softness crept through her body. It wasn’t a question of all the problems she’d have to overcome to be with Adrián, it was whether she could imagine not being with him and increasingly, the answer was: no.

He straightened, his hands dropping to his waistband, and Jo averted her gaze in panic. Yes, she’d seen it all before, but in a situation that had been entirely inappropriate for little eyes. She brushed her own spaghetti straps down her arms and shimmied out of the dress, a little devil in her mind wondering whether Adrián was peeking.

The dress she’d bought for the wedding was similarly easy to slip into. She didn’t have the right bra for the neckline, but she’d got used to the feeling of not wearing one. With the blue crepe of the bust light on her skin and the rough embroidered skirt flaring in its fairy-trim glory, she felt cheeky and pretty and entirely herself.

On her way to the mirror near the door, she caught sight of Adrián gawking at her, the waistband of his suit still undone and his linen shirt halfway down one shoulder. There was no way she could stifle it. Jo burst into laughter.

He shook himself out of it enough to notice his current state of dress and turned an appealing shade of Spanish tomato red. But Jo was distracted now too, glancing from her own reflection in the mirror to the view of Adrián shrugging all the way out of his shirt – or at least attempting to.

Satisfied that she still believed she could pull off the low-backed hippie dress, she approached Adrián hesitantly. ‘Do you need some help?’

His gaze dropped to where her hand gripped the smooth, patchwork-and-lace skirt. ‘That dress is… f-fantastic on you,’ he stuttered. When he zeroed in on her shoulder, she knew he was imagining her tattoo and possibly remembering his mouth there – that’s certainly what she was thinking about.

‘Here,’ she said, lifting her hands to help him out of the linen shirt. She tugged his dress shirt up over his shoulders, coming around to his front to work on his buttons.

‘I can… do that part myself,’ he murmured.

‘Shh, I’m having fun,’ she replied, the backs of her fingers brushing his sternum and enjoying his gasp of breath.

‘Oh, cut it out, Mum!’

She snatched her hands back at Dec’s grumbling, but she couldn’t quite dim her smile. Adrián nabbed a silver tie from his suit bag and strung it around his neck as he shuffled his feet into his black leather shoes. He couldn’t quite reach to tighten it, so she finished the job for him, smoothing the material down his chest.

After taking a minute to brush and fluff her hair and slop on a touch of tinted moisturiser, mascara and a swipe of lipstick, she stuffed her feet into the low, strappy heels she’d brought with her and looked around for the others.

Dec wore his striped, collared shirt and a pair of jeans (she hadn’t been able to talk him into anything more formal), his hair brushed out of his face. Liss emerged from the other bathroom with a harried expression, her winged eyeliner and mascara making her big blue eyes pop. Her new frock was a patterned turquoise silk maxi-dress with ties at the shoulders.

Adrián stepped out of the room, his fitted jacket in place with the sling strapped over it and his hair not quite neat. His beard was a touch scruffy, but Jo grinned to see him polished up, shoulders back, his head tilted with that earnest intensity that was all his own.

And in front of Adrián stood the little boy that was so much a part of him, in his own black jacket and tie and… his new swimming shorts with a crab on the bum.

God, I love this family, rose the sudden, intense thought.

‘That was twenty minutes!’ Liss said, breathing hard.

‘Okay, we’ll have to run!’ Jo said with a grimace as they headed for the stairs.

They made a strange group, jogging in their finery along the esplanade, Jo taking up Oscar’s other hand when the boy wanted to stop to argue about going to the playground. Jo felt as though she should wave at the staring beachgoers and tourists in the cafés.

They headed for the pale crenellated fortifications with the profusion of irregular white apartment blocks rising inside. Jo started to puff and lose steam as they stormed the ramp up to the first level of the citadel.

The walls were built directly onto the blanched stone and the cars parked at angles looked entirely out of place at the foot of the fairytale castle with its little round towers. Jo’s legs ached and she had to slow to a walk when they reached a brick staircase flanked with palm trees that brought them to a road lined with restaurants overlooking the vast bay.

They climbed and climbed, past white terraces with wrought-iron balconies and decorative tile detailing. Adrián set the pace, leading them up a cobbled lane where the bell tower of the church popped into view.

‘Thank God,’ Jo wheezed, completely charmed by the narrow streets and crumbling whitewash, but desperate to arrive at the church and end the mad dash. Up one more ramp and they came out into a square, where the castle rose out of the rocks and a humble stone church stood to the side.

Adrián let go of Oscar to grab Jo’s hand, hauling her up the steps to the portal of the church.

‘Gosh, it’s a… pretty nice place to get married, actually,’ she said, panting, and Adrián wrapped his fingers more tightly around hers.

He heaved one of the church doors open and they spilled into the back, which felt suddenly dim after the bright sunshine reflected off white stone outside.

Just as they entered, Jo heard the priest repeating himself in English, saying, ‘If anyone knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your?—’

Adrián’s shoes made a loud clack on the flagstones and the priest gaped at their ragged arrival, the two exes and the children, a little windswept and a lot late. The ripple of heads swivelling in the pews eventually reached the front until every guest was blinking at them in varying degrees of disapproval.

‘Eh, welcome?’ the priest said, recovering.

‘Forever hold your welcome?’ Liss repeated with a doubtful expression. All eyes were still turned expectantly in their direction.

‘Ehm, no objections!’ Adrián said waving his hand for emphasis as he repeated himself in Spanish. ‘Many congratulations to the bride and groom and sorry we’re late. I had an appointment with the police.’

Jo whacked him lightly on the arm as a ripple of unease worked its way through the gathered family and friends.

‘I mean?—’

‘We’re here now,’ Jo said, ushering Adrián forward with a false smile for the guests.

Ben beckoned for the children to come to the front, where one of the tías took charge of Oscar, taking him into the sacristy to prepare the cushion for the rings, his little crab-butt glaringly obvious to the entire congregation.

Jo was left clutching Adrián and glancing around for a spare pew. Someone finally moved over, allowing them to squeeze in. ‘I’m so sorry we were late!’ Jo reiterated as silence still shrouded the church. ‘Go ahead and… marry them – with our blessing!’

She plonked into the pew next to Adrián, wishing she could disappear into the floor. The next best thing was letting her forehead drop to his shoulder and shaking with laughter when the guests turned their attention back to the bride and groom so the service could continue.

How many scrapes had she got herself into with Adrián? She couldn’t count them all. But as he nudged her hand with his, Jo suspected that even if she could, she wouldn’t change a thing about the past ten days.

But the next ten days? And the ten after that? She had to decide if she was brave enough to try it all again with Adrián – she had to decide before he walked out of her life tomorrow.