Nick
Nick
He’s a wreck. The radiators seem to be turned up full in the Yellow Room and he’s swelteringly hot in his suit. He can feel the sweat accumulating against his back, a little water droplet army joining together until it’s big enough to run down his spine and pool against the waistband of his woollen suit trousers.
He tugs at the neck of his shirt. Thinks about Maggie. The future. The fact he is finally doing it. Finally getting his life in order. Finally making her happy.
It was her idea to hold the wedding this month. She’d found out about the fire. God knows how, but she seems to have a knack for digging out even his most deeply buried secrets.
She found out and then she told him that they should have their wedding in November so that he had something happier to remember each year.
‘You go all weird around this time of year. Introspective and moody,’ she said. ‘This will help.’
Also, she wanted to go to the Maldives on their honeymoon and apparently this was the best time to go, once the wet season had ended.
He can hear muttering behind him as he stands at the front of the aisle. Not for the first time he wishes he had siblings – a younger sister, perhaps, or an older brother to slap him on the back and tell him everything would be fine. As it is, he has only his mum, who’s sitting in the front row wearing a huge pink hat that even he knows doesn’t match her yellow dress and which Maggie will think is awful, and he wants to tell her to take it off because he doesn’t want her to look foolish in front of all these people, but it would really upset her to think she’d got it wrong.
‘Here.’
He turns. His mum is standing beside him. She presses something into his palm. A handkerchief.
‘You need to wipe your head,’ she whispers. ‘You’re getting all shiny.’
He thinks he might actually cry. God bless her. His lovely, lovely mum.
He takes the handkerchief and dabs at his forehead.
‘Thanks Mum,’ he says. He can’t get over that bright pink hat. Where the hell did she get it? Not for the first time, he curses the day charity shops were invented. ‘I’m a bit nervous.’
‘Of course you are,’ she says, softly, and as she takes the hanky back, he notices that her hands are trembling slightly. She’s nervous too.
He glances over at the other aisle of chairs. Maggie’s side of the room. Filled with double-barrels and barristers. Maggie’s mum, who looks frighteningly like Maggie, just more lined and with a slightly sour-looking mouth, is wearing a diaphanous dress that shows off her figure, topped off with the most ostentatious necklace he has ever seen.
‘It’ll be fine,’ his mum says, kissing him on his sweaty cheek. ‘You look more handsome than you ever did.’
She has a beaded pearl handbag on her lap, and she unclips it and pulls out a disposable camera, holding it to her eye and imploring him to say cheese.
Fucking hell. When will this torture be over?
He just wants to move on, for things to feel safe, sorted. For Maggie to finally be happy with him.
That part of the plan had worked. For the first few weeks after he proposed – carefully soliciting her friend Lottie’s advice on the ring beforehand – Maggie was ecstatic. He had never felt so loved. So adored. So special.
He’d made it.
But then they started to plan the wedding. And it was all wrong. All his opinions were wrong. He was either too interested or not interested enough. If he ventured an idea – like the prospect of them eloping, which seemed more affordable and also more romantic – it was somehow insulting. Didn’t he want a big wedding to show her off to all his friends? Was he ashamed of her?
In the end, he took on the mantra he’d seen on a card once: ‘Happy Wife = Happy Life’ and deferred to her.
But then, she accused him of not caring enough. And around they went again. It was exhausting.
But after the wedding, everything would get better. He was sure of that because she had told him so. She often apologised after her rages, telling him that she was stressed, that planning a wedding was really a full-time job – despite the fact they had employed someone to do just that – and that she was under a lot of pressure.
After all, she’s working full-time too. She’s just been promoted, and is now earning double what he earns.
He’s just got to get through today. And then things will settle down. He thinks ahead to the honeymoon he’s planned: the eye-wateringly expensive trip to the Maldives. The exact island they’re going to was meant to be a surprise, but he’s fairly sure she’s already worked it out. She has a tendency to look through his emails.
The seats are filling and he risks a glance upwards towards the people at his wedding.
His wedding . He can hardly believe it.
There are the guys from work, each with a woman on their arm, only a few of whom he recognises, and then there are a handful of his school friends, and then…
He takes a sharp breath when he sees Beth.
Beth and her boyfriend. Who can’t really be called that because, even though he’s pretty sure Beth told him that Vaughan is in his forties, he looks at least fifty.
He watches as she chats to one of Maggie’s friends while they wait to take their seats. But then, Beth looks up and their eyes meet for just a second and she gives him a shy smile, and he feels his heart almost do a somersault and he wonders, just briefly, just for one suicidal, hysterical second, whether he could leg it.
*
Later, when he is standing in the marquee they paid to have erected on the huge rolling lawn behind the manor, Beth finally comes over to him. It’s the first moment he’s had without Maggie since before the ceremony, as she’s gone to powder her nose.
Beth has lost the old codger she calls a boyfriend. She’s wearing a floral dress, with a high neckline and a funny little shawl thing gathered over her forearms. She looks pencil-thin. Glamorous and expensive. Like a successful actress.
But underneath it all, she’s still Beth.
‘Afternoon,’ he says.
She kisses him on the cheek.
‘Hello, Nick. Maggie’s… stunning,’ Beth says. ‘I mean, you both are. How are you? Are you having the best day? What a glorious venue. I never knew you had such good taste.’
He swallows.
‘Let’s get a drink,’ he says, ‘I have some very expensive cognac upstairs.’ He steers her out of the marquee and back through to the main building, pulling her by the arm up the stairs.
She laughs, nervously.
‘Where are we going? Nick?’
They reach the room he’s looking for and he opens it.
‘In here,’ he says. His hair is sticking to his forehead. Why is it so fucking hot in this building? he thinks.
‘Hey, Nick. What’s the matter?’
She’s staring at him, a puzzled expression on her face. He takes the bottle off the large dresser and pours them two large glasses of cognac.
‘Is this the honeymoon suite?’
‘God! No, it’s where I stayed last night.’
She nods.
‘Sorry about that,’ he says, handing her a glass before yanking at his tie, loosening it. ‘That’s better. I just had to get out of there.’
She smiles at him sympathetically, and they sit down beside one another.
‘I guess it’s a bit much. Being the centre of so much attention.’
‘It’s exhausting. I thought I’d be able to cope with it all, but Maggie’s been watching me like a hawk all day, and I don’t…’
He tails off. He can’t tell Beth this. He mustn’t.
‘What?’
He sniffs, looking down at his shiny shoes. They are brand new, his special wedding shoes. A mandatory purchase according to Maggie, even though he thought it was ridiculous. And now they’re rubbing his heels, the skin lightly shredded with every step he takes. He’s sure there’s a metaphor in there if only he could be bothered to look for it.
‘Nothing,’ he says, taking a big swig of his drink. ‘I just can’t wait for today to be over.’
‘That’s romantic.’
‘Marriage isn’t about the wedding,’ he replies, grumpily. ‘It’s about the marriage.’
She leans her head against his shoulder.
‘I can’t believe you’re married.’
‘Neither can I.’
‘Maggie seems nice.’
He can’t help the noise he makes. It’s involuntary, a physical, instinctive reaction to an untruth. ‘Nice.’
‘Don’t you agree?’
‘I love her,’ he says, as if this will help cover it up. ‘But she’s hard work. She’s…’
‘Intense? She looks like a perfectionist.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What?’ Beth says, lifting her head and turning his face to look at her. The touch of her hand against his cheek makes him feel dizzy. ‘What is it?’
‘I can’t seem to make her happy,’ he says. ‘I thought… today… but... Never mind.’
‘You try really hard to make people happy,’ she says. ‘But you know, it’s not really your job. Your job is to make yourself happy.’
He considers this.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ he says. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too. It’s funny, I think part of me thought, believed…’
‘What?’
She glances up at the ceiling, avoiding his eye.
‘I don’t know. I always thought we would end up…’ She stops short.
‘Together?’ His heart skips a beat.
‘Alone.’
‘Oh.’ He laughs, feeling foolish now. ‘Thanks.’
‘Oh, God, I’m sorry. You know, you were right, all those years ago. About us. I couldn’t see it at the time but it would never have worked. Too much baggage.’
‘Oh,’ he says, again.
‘Better as friends.’
Does she really mean that? She won’t look him in the eye.
‘I just meant,’ she continues, ‘that I’m impressed with us. How we’ve both managed to find people. The right people.’
He wants more than anything to say that he’s not sure Maggie is the right person, but how can he say that, today of all days? What the hell is wrong with him?
He pulls his collar again.
It’s just a tiny voice, the voice he keeps hearing that tells him that he will never be enough for her. That something isn’t right, that she’s too volatile, that he won’t be able to fix her – to help her. To make her happy.
But if not him, then who?
He so wants her to be happy. Deep down, she’s a sweet person.
‘Vaughan seems nice,’ he says, echoing Beth.
‘He is. He’s amazing.’
‘I’m so happy for you. I mean, really. You deserve it.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Can I tell you something?’ He feels so close to her now. So safe. And it would help, he knows. If he could just get this out. Just share it with one person. He might feel lighter. Perhaps she could even help him. Perhaps she’d know how he could help Maggie. Or help him, to get things right.
‘Of course.’
‘I…’
There’s a sound from the corner of the room. He looks up. Maggie is standing in the doorway. Her eyes are blazing. He feels himself shrinking back.
‘What the fuck?’ she shouts, and immediately he feels a deep sense of shame. And embarrassment. Embarrassment that Beth has seen this side of her. His beautiful, perfect bride. Who also happens to have the fiercest temper of anyone he has ever met.
‘We were just catching up,’ he says, weakly.
‘Catching up?’ she roars. One side of her nose rises in a sneer. ‘Up here? In your room? Hiding from your guests? Hiding from me with her ?’
Nick can’t bear to look at Beth. What must she be thinking, now Maggie’s mask has truly fallen?
‘It’s OK,’ Beth says, dropping his hand. He hadn’t even realised they were holding hands. Fuck fuck fuck. ‘Nick was just feeling a bit dizzy, it’s the heat…’
Beth stands up, takes a few steps towards Maggie.
‘I know this looks awkward, but honestly, I mean… it’s your wedding day. Nothing’s happened. We’re just old friends.’
He can hardly bear to breathe. He looks up at Maggie. Her face is frozen, somewhere between shock and fury.
There’s a few seconds of terrible stillness, and then her face relaxes slightly as she looks directly at Beth.
‘I’m sorry,’ Maggie says, sounding clipped. ‘It’s just that Nick hasn’t exactly had the best track record…’
Beth stares at him.
‘What?’ she says, and the confusion on Beth’s face devastates him.
‘Mags, please,’ he says. How did he end up here?
‘He cheated on me,’ Maggie says, her voice soft now, and he’s seized by a rage that takes him by surprise. He wants to stand up and push her back out the door and close it behind her. She’s spoilt the one good moment of the day. ‘It was early days in our relationship, but of course ever since then, you know. It’s always been a doubt in my mind. It’s been so difficult to rebuild that trust, but we’ve worked on it. Or at least, I have.’
‘Maggie it wasn’t… We weren’t properly together at the time…’ But her eyes bore into him and he stops talking.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry,’ Beth says, and he can’t quite believe what’s happening. Is Maggie really doing this? Is she really turning Beth against him? ‘I shouldn’t have come up here… I never meant to upset you.’
‘I didn’t cheat on you! Christ, Maggie!’ he barks, but neither of them are listening to him anymore. Fuck, how has this happened? This insanity he seems to be living in. People telling lies about him right in front of his face, and him somehow incapable of stopping it.
‘Thank you. Beth, isn’t it?’ Maggie says, now, sniffing. She dabs at her beautiful, hard eyes. ‘I so appreciate you being straight with me, Beth. I’m sorry for shouting… For getting the wrong end of the stick.’
‘Of course,’ Beth says. ‘I’m so sorry for upsetting you. Really, it’s been the most magical day.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Maggie says. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to speak before.’ She looks down at her slip of a wedding dress, the beads rustling against her slim frame. ‘It’s all been a complete blur really.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘I think your partner is looking for you,’ Maggie says, and although Beth doesn’t notice it, Nick recognises the sharpness in her voice. ‘Vaughan. That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Oh,’ Beth says. ‘Yes. I’d better get back to him. And I’m sorry again. For any confusion.’
Beth slips out of the room without even glancing back at him.
Leaving him alone with Maggie.