Chapter 8 #2
She remembered the wedding all too well.
She’d been one of the bridesmaids, which had been quite an ordeal given how she felt about the groom.
She was eighteen by then and had dated a few young men, but none of them matched up to Danny.
She’d hoped right up until the moment the vicar declared him and Kirsty to be husband and wife that something would happen to stop the wedding but no such luck.
For weeks she’d dreamed that Danny’s eyes would stray to her during the service, and he’d falter for a moment before declaring that he couldn’t go through with it as he was in love with another. But all her hopes were dashed when he said, ‘I will.’
He’d barely given her a second glance all day. Not surprising given her awful bridesmaid dress. Strapless cerise taffeta, with bodices that looked like folded crepe paper. Ugh!
And of course, she’d had to sit and listen to all those speeches.
Him gushing about how lucky he was to have married the love of his life.
His brother – the best man – telling everyone what a perfect couple Danny and Kirsty made.
Kirsty’s dad – Brooke’s Uncle Tony – going on and on about how blessed he was to have such a wonderful daughter and how proud he and Auntie Sheryl were of her. It had got on her nerves.
And the worst part of it all was that she’d believed it at the time. She’d honestly bought into the story they were all telling. That Kirsty was a wonderful human being who was going to make Danny such a wonderful wife.
In a way that had made it bearable because she’d told herself repeatedly that all she wanted was for him to be happy, and if it took Kirsty to make him happy then so be it. She’d always got on with her cousin. Looked up to her even.
But she’d felt ashamed and bad for wanting Danny and wishing the wedding wouldn’t happen. She’d wanted to back out of being a bridesmaid because she didn’t think she deserved the honour. She’d been miserable and guilty for ages, and all the time…
Lucy put her phone in her handbag and sighed.
‘I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘I’m needed in the shop.
But I’ll keep looking, honestly, and I’ll come up with something.
I’ll have a talk to Sam, too, and see what he thinks since he’ll probably be playing the guitar.
Millie, are you staying on or are you coming home with me? ’
Millie shrugged. ‘Might as well come home since nothing much is happening here.’
‘And have a think about a name for the group,’ Lucy added suddenly. ‘You should be introduced properly. It’s more professional. And auditions. That’s another thing we must organise. Tomorrow afternoon? Would that be okay for you all?’
Millie confirmed that the ghosts were agreeable to meeting the following day.
‘Immi, since I can’t hear the ghosts, I’m going to have to rely on you to tell me who has the best voices,’ Lucy explained.
‘Hopefully by tomorrow I’ll have found the perfect song and anyone who wants a lead part will sing it so we can find out who sounds best. I know that’s a lot of responsibility on your shoulders. How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Immi confessed. ‘It’s a bit tricky. Especially since I live with some of them.’ She nodded meaningfully at Florrie, Agnes and Aubrey, who looked quite affronted by her implication.
‘Do you think,’ Lucy asked, ‘that there’s any chance Lawrie could make it here? He could help you.’
‘Blimey, you might as well invite the whole village,’ said Bill crossly.
‘Scared to sing in front of an audience?’ Ronnie enquired. ‘That rules you out of a solo then, doesn’t it?’
‘I’m not scared of anything. Well, except of having my eardrums bleed when you start your tuneless wailing,’ snapped Bill.
‘I’ll have you know—’ Ronnie shut up suddenly, and he and Bill stood still and silent as Quintus Severus, who’d been standing at the edge of the stage surveying the empty cinema turned to face them, one hand on the pommel of his sword as if he was about to draw it at any moment.
There was no chance he’d need to. One look from him had done the trick and Bill and Ronnie looked meekly at him, clearly remembering how he’d dangled them by the scruff of their necks previously.
‘My hero,’ said Harmony, laughing as she gave the Roman’s bicep an admiring squeeze.
‘If only he’d been around in the village for the last hundred years or so instead of patrolling the estate borders,’ Percy said with a sigh. ‘Would have saved me a heck of a lot of bother.’
‘So I’ll ask Lawrie tonight, shall I?’ Immi asked brightly.
Lucy nodded. ‘Yes please. And remember, it’s a surprise, and he must be sworn to secrecy.’
‘I’ll make him swear,’ Immi promised. ‘I can’t wait for tomorrow to hear how everyone sounds!’
There were a few worried looks on the faces of the ghosts as they said goodbye to Lucy via Millie and headed to their various homes.
‘Are you going to audition?’ Brooke asked Danny, as they headed back to the Swinging Sixties Street, trailing behind Lucy and Millie.
‘Doubt it,’ he said. ‘What about you?’
‘Me?’ Brooke laughed and shook her head. ‘You’ve heard me on the karaoke, remember? I sound like a cat that’s caught its tail in the door.’
To her relief, he smiled, and she wondered what was going on in his head.
She could have kicked herself for mentioning the party earlier.
He hated to be reminded of it, so no wonder he’d turned away from her.
And yet, not long after that, he’d been the one to bring up the past. His wedding.
Kirsty, of all people. He’d never done that before.
Was it a breakthrough? Was he finally starting to move on?
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you’ve got a point.’
‘But you on the other hand,’ she said carefully, nervous of spoiling things between them just when he seemed to be making progress, ‘you can really sing. I’ve heard you on the karaoke, too. Your voice is brilliant. You should give it a go, Danny, really you should.’
‘I’m not that good,’ he mumbled.
‘But you are! Promise me you’ll give it a try,’ she urged.
Danny shrugged. ‘I’ll see.’
It was the best she was going to get out of him today, but Brooke was determined to make him audition. He was far too good not to come forward. She just hoped that, whatever song Lucy came up with, it wasn’t anything that brought back sad memories for him. Or for her.