Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
‘You’re not ready,’ said Ella, stating the obvious, when Bets opened the front door wrapped in her dressing gown with Tiggy at her feet.
‘No shit, Sherlock,’ said Bets. ‘I’m having a wardrobe crisis of epic proportions. I’m seriously considering not going at all.’
‘What happened to the dress you got on Vinted? You were so pleased with it.’
A good question. Now she wondered what on earth she’d been thinking when she’d ordered the dress, with its touch of vintage chic and bygone glamour.
More to the point, what crazy fiend had taken possession of her brain when she’d first tried it on and decided to wear it.
It had coincided with the day she’d done her first stand-up session, and the euphoria afterwards, when she’d been feeling empowered and brave.
Unfortunately, today, with the prospect of appearing in front of the whole village, when she’d zipped the dress up, those feelings had evaporated in an instant.
Bets sighed. ‘I’ve got cold feet. It feels too much like a dumped-girlfriend-trying-to-brave-it-in-front-of-the-ex kind of dress. Everyone is going to be watching me and I don’t want to be that girl.’
‘So you’re going to melt into the woodwork?’ asked Ella. putting her hands on her hips. ‘I think not. The Bets I first met wouldn’t give a rat’s monkey about what other people think, especially not Jack.’
‘That was then, this is now,’ said Bets, regretting sounding so pathetic. It had been weeks, surely she ought to be over the heartbreak. ‘And what is a rat’s monkey when it’s at home?’
Ella giggled. ‘First thing that popped into my head. I’m trying to cut down on swear words.’
‘Novel.’
‘It’s quite a good one … and stop trying to distract me. Go, put the dress on and show me.’
Reluctantly Bets turned round and ran up the stairs with Tiggy galloping after.
The dog never liked to miss anything. ‘You’ve already seen the dress,’ she said to her.
‘And you didn’t look impressed.’ Tiggy gazed up at her as if to say, Was I supposed to be?
It was uncanny how human her expressions sometimes were.
Bets lifted the dress from the hanger where she’d rehung it ten minutes before, her fingers stroking the lustre of the dark green satin, so dark it almost looked black until the light picked up an emerald green shimmer.
She held it up against herself in the mirror but she knew exactly what it looked like on, and how much the soft fabric skimmed her body, flattering her skin tone, the off-the-shoulder neckline revealing her creamy skin and more than a hint of cleavage before nipping in at the waist and flaring out over her hips.
She’d never be thin but the dress accentuated her generous curves and made her look …
sexy. Her, sexy! Not something anyone would ever describe her as!
Part of her badly wanted to wear the dress to look fabulous and stick it to Jack – the minute she’d tried it on, she’d known it was a cut above anything else she’d ever worn.
But there was another part of her that knew it would draw attention to her.
Everyone was going to this damn wedding in the very church that she and Jack had joked about marrying in one day.
Back when they were in the first flush of love and convinced they’d be together forever – or at least she had been.
The whole village would be there: Jack, his parents, everyone at the surgery, Doris, George, even Greta – who was closing the pub for the service. Anna and Ollie, the bride and groom, had been at school with Bets, Jack and Devon, and Anna’s parents and grandparents were Wilsgrave-born and bred.
Bets slipped on the dress, wiggled her feet into the matching suede heels and, before she could look in the mirror, forced herself down the stairs to face her friend.
‘Wow!’ said Ella, staring at her before adding, ‘Wow. Wow. Wow. Whoa, momma! That is one hell of a dress. You look amazing. That colour really suits you.’ Ella peered at her face. ‘I had no idea you had green eyes. They really pop in this dress and your hair … you look’—she grinned—‘sexy siren.’
‘But it’s too much.’ Bets let out a little sigh.
‘Bollocks,’ said Ella. ‘You look gorgeous.’
‘Pound in the swear pot.’
‘I’m serious. Why would you not want to wear this dress? It’s stunning. And don’t you dare say it looks like you’re trying too hard. You look fantastic in it.’
‘I don’t know.’ Bets frowned.
‘If this is about Jack…’
‘It’s not.’
‘Yes, it is,’ said Ella shrewdly. ‘Wear it for you. No one else. Do you feel good in it?’
Bets nodded and caught up the fabric in each hand, swishing the skirt around her. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Well, then.’
Ella was right. She should wear it for herself. She felt good in it. More than good. She felt like a goddess. She was a goddess. More glamorous, more confident and a lot more fancy than she really was. She lifted her chin. Today she needed her armour.
‘Okay, let’s do this. Where’s Devon? Is he at the cottage?’
‘In the pub. The boys are all having a pint with the groom before they go to church.’
‘Typical,’ said Bets.
‘It’s all right, Greta won’t let them get out of hand. She’s already promised Anna that Ollie will only be getting the one pint.’
The church was only a short walk away but Bets wasn’t risking her heels sinking in the common so had her flipflops at the ready, which she could tuck into her bag. She carried her heels in her hand.
‘I wish I’d thought of that,’ said Ella, looking down at Bets’ feet and her own stylish high heels.
‘Sorry, hon, this isn’t my first rodeo. Some people leave their comfy shoes outside the front of the church.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Welcome to Wilsgrave. No one’s going to steal them.’
Ella groaned. ‘Wish I’d known that.’
‘Stick around for long enough, you’ll know next time.’
* * *
The twelfth-century church was packed when Ella and Bets filed in, clutching the order-of-service cards handed out by Ollie’s brothers, the ushers, both clad in pale grey morning suits with navy-blue silk cravats.
At the end of the wide nave, the sun streamed through the jewel-bright colours of the stained glass in the arched windows above the altar.
The best man and the groom were already in place, murmuring together.
Bets gave Ollie a little wave. At first, he frowned as if trying to place her and then did a double take of recognition before grinning at her and giving her the thumbs-up, which made her smile.
‘Which side?’ asked Ella, looking around the congregation for Devon, who, it appeared, hadn’t yet made it out of the pub yet.
‘Either. It doesn’t matter. Devon was at school in Ollie’s year and me and Jack were in the same year as Anna but we all got the bus together to school. Hang on, where did you go to school? You grew up round here.’
‘I went to the High.’
‘Posh totty,’ said Bets, tapping her nose. ‘Might have known.’
Ella laughed. ‘Seriously? I’m not posh.’
Bets nudged her. ‘I know.’ She realised it was her own inferiority complex talking. The problem was, she was surrounded by uber-talented and clever people.
While they were debating which row of the old oak pews to slide into, Doris came clumping down the aisle on her crutches, her colourful cast drawing lots of attention. She didn’t stop to acknowledge anyone but instead made a beeline for Bets and Ella.
She stood in front of them, her faded blue eyes sparkling and the powdered wrinkles around her mouth deepening as she gave an approving smile. ‘Well, Bets. I don’t know what to say. Look at you?’
‘I scrub up well?’ suggested Bets.
Doris’ smile softened. ‘You, my lovely child, are an emerald of the first water. You are simply gorgeous and you shouldn’t be so self-deprecating. You need to shine.’
Tears welled up in Bets’ eyes. ‘Thank you, that’s a lovely thing to say.’
‘Honest words. Honest words.’ Doris hobbled up to her, put an arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Now which side are we sitting on?’
As each side was evenly balanced with people, they decided on the nearest empty pew and helped Doris to sit, after a quick battle trying to place her crutches within reach.
Ella and Bets took their seats next to her and a minute later Devon and Jack sauntered in.
When Devon spotted Ella, his face lit up and the two of them, oblivious to everyone around them, exchanged one of those special looks.
Bets ignored the pang of envy. She couldn’t be jealous of two of her favourite people.
Instead her gaze strayed to Jack behind Devon.
Since he’d come back, she was hyper aware of him.
All the flipping time. Whenever he was in the room, she always knew exactly where he was.
She felt like he was her magnetic north, and she his south. It was annoying.
Today, dressed in a dark navy suit with a crisp white shirt and a dark purple silk tie, he looked …
flipping gorgeous. Her heart did one of those annoying little flutters like she’d just driven over a couple of speed bumps.
His eyes met hers and for an unguarded moment, her emotions took over, lapping up the sight of his familiar face as if she was a thirsty kitten.
She must look like a lovesick fool but she couldn’t take her eyes off him, so it was gratifying when his eyes skimmed down over her dress and then back up to her face.
She didn’t miss the flash of admiration in his eyes or the slow smile of approval.
‘You look…’ She saw the pulse in his throat as he swallowed, ‘Very lovely.’ His voice sounded a little husky.
Normally she would have used the ‘scrub up well’ line as she had with Doris, but this time she inclined her head in graceful acknowledgment and said nothing.
The uncharacteristic response obviously confounded Jack because he stared at her, openly studying her face, his expression a little puzzled and uncertain.
It was the uncertainty that gave Bets a little skip of feminine satisfaction.
Never in their relationship had she put him off balance.
He’d always known exactly where he was in the scheme of things.
The organ peeled out the familiar first strains of ‘The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba’ and they both looked away.
There was a rustle throughout the congregation as everyone stood up.
Jack and Devon hastily took their places in the pew, Devon stepping in front of Bets to stand next to Ella, leaving a final empty space for Jack.
Bets sighed. This was the last thing she wanted.
The bride came billowing down the aisle in a beautiful dress with a long lace train and a flowing veil. Her brilliant smile reflected all the joy and happiness of the occasion. Bets felt tears prick her eyes as Anna took her place beside the groom.
The service unfolded, hitting each traditional beat of the ceremony on cue.
Bets focused on the stained-glass window, conscious of Jack sitting ramrod-straight beside her.
She could hear him breathing and see the rise and fall of his chest. His hands rested loosely on his thighs.
Was he relaxed as those casually draped fingers suggested?
Hers were clasped tight on her lap. The white knuckles were probably a dead giveaway.
A knot, tight with tension, throbbed in her shoulder.
Breathe, she told herself, just breathe.
She hadn’t counted on sitting right next to him throughout the service.
She could have come to the church on her own or with any number of people rather than Ella.
Had her subconscious pulled a fast one on her, putting her through this torture?
When the vows were taken, a tear trickled out of one eye and she was grateful that it was the side away from Jack.
She didn’t dare wipe it away in case he noticed.
Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed in a fierce grip, the tightness in her chest making it hard to breathe.
Misery flooded through her. There’d always been an understanding that one day she and Jack would get married here.
He’d never formally proposed, but their conversations about the future had often been prefaced with, ‘When we’re married, we’ll… ’
Her breath hitched and another tear escaped.
She clenched her jaw, desperately trying to get a grip on her emotions, but all she could think of was everything that had been lost, and the uncertain future.
The next steps had all been mapped out, so clear in her head, and now there was an endless path ahead with nothing to break it up.
It wasn’t like her to feel sorry for herself.
The well of her natural optimism had run dry and today there were no reserves.
Focusing hard on looking ahead, she felt a touch at her side.
Jack’s hand folded around hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
She lifted her chin and squeezed back, comforted by the human connection.
She didn’t know what it meant but the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers anchored her.
Calmer now, she took silent slow breaths, her tears drying.
She had no idea why he’d done this but she’d take the comfort right now and figure out what it meant later.