Chapter 8
It ended up being a bit of a tricky trip back home across the salt marshes, and Murray didn’t think he’d ever been so grateful to reach the old trawler.
The flooding from the heavy rains they’d endured for weeks on end had finally started to recede, and the water levels had dropped significantly since Saturday. It meant he’d had to stick to the deeper channels, steering the boat carefully to prevent himself from getting stuck.
If he was being honest, it would probably have been easier to walk home – taking to the narrow, hidden pathways that criss-crossed the wetland. You had to know the marshes like the back of your hand to be able to follow them without taking a wrong turn and ending up knee-deep in the brackish, muddy water. As Marsh Ranger, he knew the paths better than anyone - but frankly, he didn’t have the energy for a long walk. Rowing home had been hard enough.
The minute he climbed on board, leaving the boat tied up below, Murray started to unbutton his shirt. He couldn’t wait to jump in the shower.
Letting himself inside, Murray blew out a long sigh of relief. He couldn’t wait to wash the lingering scent of the hospital out of his hair. Then he’d climb back into his usual uniform of tatty shorts and a soft, slouchy tee shirt. He’d had enough suit-wearing to last him a lifetime.
Peering around his home, Murray felt the tension start to drain from his shoulders, and his headache eased off a couple of notches. The place always had this effect on him – it was why he loved living out here so much. The trawler might look a bit rough from the outside, but inside it was a cosy oasis - complimented by all the mod cons. The waterfall shower he’d installed was at the top of his list of favourites right now – closely followed by the coffee machine.
By this point, he’d stripped right down to his boxers. He was so intent on heading straight for the bathroom for the longest soak of his life that he’d dropped a trail of clothing behind him – he’d pick it up later! He was just about to grab a towel from the cupboard when his Sat Phone caught his eye.
‘Damn!’ he muttered, glowering at the flashing red light that signalled a bunch of new messages.
For a second, Murray contemplated ignoring them until he’d had the chance to shower. After all, no one knew he was home – so it wasn’t like there was any rush.
But… what if they were important?
It wasn’t in his nature to ignore a job once he knew it needed his attention. The thought of that little red light demanding his attention the minute he finished would just ruin his longed-for shower.
Murray strode over to the desk and punched the button – keen to get it over with.
‘Murray mate, it’s Philip!’The bridegroom’s voice boomed around the cabin.
‘And Elizabeth!’came the bride’s slightly muffled whine in the background.
‘Yeah… and the wife! Anyway, we’re at the airport. Just wanted to leave you a message before we catch our flight. We wanted to say - don’t worry – you didn’t ruin anything.’
‘Well, he did a little bit,’ huffed Elizabeth.
‘Okay,’agreed Philip. ‘She’s right, you did ruin things a little bit. Everything ran late for a while – after waiting for the ambulance and all that – but we made up most of the time by cutting each course of the meal down to seven minutes. That fixed it…’
‘Only because we missed dessert!’hissed Elizabeth.
‘Yeah. That. Anyway, we had a brilliant time…’
‘Apart from Josh’s speech – tell him, Philip!’
‘Apart from Josh’s speech!’Philip agreed. ‘It went on forever. We had to call our own toast to shut him up in the end, but he just carried on again afterwards and he was still going when we left!’
‘That’s our flight!’Elizabeth squealed. ‘Our flight just got called. Hang up already!’
‘Catch you when we get back.’
‘Give me the phone!’
‘Don’t snatch, woman!’
That was the end of the message. Murray let out a long sigh.
‘No, no,’ he said to thin air. ‘I’m fine… don’t worry about me… in fact - don’t even ask how my head is!’
The phone beeped as it clicked through to the next message.
‘Dude, it’s Josh.’
‘Ah maaan!’ sighed Murray, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes as he wondered what he’d done in a previous life to deserve this.
‘Way to go for looking like a total knob by headbutting a bunch of flowers!’Josh’s voice was full of laughter. ‘Seriously though, mate – I’m sorry that happened to you.’
He didn’t sound very sorry. In fact, he sounded… gleeful.
‘Anyway, just wanted to tell you not to worry – I jumped in and saved the day. Good thing I had a speech prepared, eh?’
Murray tutted and rolled his eyes before thinking better of it – it made everything hurt.
‘Everyone loved it. I guess it was more meaningful and heartfelt coming from me anyway… you know… considering I actually know Philip! Plus… you know… I didn’t embarrass them by getting knocked on my butt by a bunch of flowers. By the way - you nearly ruined their honeymoon by making them late for their flight!’
Murray let out a low growl.
‘A-ny-way,’Josh’s voice continued in a self-congratulatory singsong, ‘would you like to hear my speech – just so you’re in the loop?’
‘No!’ Murray yelled at the machine, but it clearly didn’t hear him because Josh’s voice turned into a strange kind of monotone as he started to read.
‘My lords, ladies and gentlemen – welcome to best man two-point-oh…’
‘Seriously?!’ huffed Murray. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t about to stand there and listen to the idiot waffle on for an age. He quickly skipped to the next message.
‘Hi! I hope this is the right number for Murray Eddington, best man from the Williams wedding at the Dolphin and Anchor on Saturday?’
‘I wish it wasn’t!’ murmured Murray.
‘This is Caroline Cook, editor of the Crumbleton Times and Echo. I’d love to get an interview with you about what happened. I hope you’re feeling better. I’m going to be running a feature on the incident this week. Front page. I’m still trying to track down a picture, but a few words from you would be great. I’m hoping Milly Rowlands from the flower shop will give me a quote about the flowers – maybe something about how often people get into life-threatening fisticuffs with bridal bouquets… add a bit of humour to the tragedy of the accident, you know? Anyway, call me!’
‘No chance,’ said Murray, listening as Caroline reeled off her phone number before hanging up.
Thankfully, that was the end of the messages, and Murray hit the “delete all” button with an added flourish of his middle finger when the machine asked him if he’d like to listen to them again.
So much for anyone caring if he was actually okay. Sure, he was a bit embarrassed about the whole thing, but he could have been seriously hurt for all any of them knew… not that any of them had bothered to ask.
He huffed, this time at himself for being such a needy wet blanket. Plus, he wasn’t being fair – at least Caroline Cook had said she hoped that he was okay! Plus… she’d mentioned Milly. Not that he was going to think about that right now.
Heading over to the cupboard, Murray started to rummage around for a big, fluffy bath towel – doing his best to pretend Milly’s name wasn’t still ringing in his ears. He’d had such high hopes for the weekend. He didn’t really know why he’d thought it would finally be his chance to meet her properly… and maybe even do something about his ridiculous mega-crush.
Somehow, Murray got the feeling he was going to remember this wedding forever – but not for the reason he’d been hoping. He hadn’t even had the chance to speak to Milly before being carted off in an ambulance. She was the only reason he’d agreed to be a part of the whole thing in the first place, and he’d blown it. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe the kiss they’d shared was it for them – the sum total of their connection.
Murray’s shoulders slumped, and his headache ramped up again – thrumming against his skull with renewed vigour.
Maybe it was all for the best. What did he have to offer someone like Milly anyway? He lived in an abandoned boat, for goodness’ sake! She wouldn’t be interested in an idiot like him!
Slinging the towel over his shoulder, Murray headed for the shower, feeling decidedly depressed.