Chapter 1
My wedding day. I can hardly believe that it’s really happening; that we are finally going to be man and wife.
After everything that happened, how hard she has tried to split us up.
I close my eyes at the memory of the lengths she has gone to.
Then I shake them from my mind. I’m not going to think about that now.
It’s over. Today is the happiest day of my life.
I open my eyes and smile at my reflection in the mirror.
I look so different, with the sides of my shoulder-length light brown hair pulled back off my face like this and fastened at the back with a floral hairpiece, and this gorgeous ivory floaty dress, with its nipped-in waist, plunging neckline and beaded lace bodice, makes me look like a princess.
I feel different too. Strong. Loved. I haven’t felt loved since my parents died when I was six years old, but I know Sam must love me very much to go ahead with the wedding despite everything she has done to stop it.
I love him too. We’ve made it. My smile breaks into a big grin and then suddenly bursts out into a laugh.
A joyful laugh of triumph and happiness.
Soon I will be Dana Corbett, not Dana Wynters.
The start of a brand new, happy life for me.
The door opens and in the mirror I see Lynne walk in holding two glasses of champagne. ‘I was going to say if you’ve any doubts, now’s the time to speak up. Half an hour and you’ll be a married woman. But judging by the way you’re laughing, you’re very pleased that you’re marrying Sam.’
‘No doubts at all. I can’t wait to marry him,’ I say as I turn to face my best friend.
She looks so pretty in her pale lemon, Grecian-style bridesmaid’s dress, but then Lynne would look amazing in a sack.
She’s been my cheerleader, sounding board and mischief-inspirer since primary school and I’m so pleased that she agreed to be my maid of honour.
Otherwise I would have had no one to share my wedding day with.
Whereas Sam has an army of people surrounding him.
She looks me up and down admiringly. ‘You look stunning, Dana!’ Then she holds out one of the glasses. ‘Don’t spill it over your dress,’ she warns.
‘As if I would! I’m going to make sure nothing spoils today,’ I tell her, holding the stem of my glass carefully and gazing at the crystal clear, light gold liquid sparkling with the tiny bubbles fizzing in it, mirroring the bubbles of happiness sparkling inside me.
Lynne holds up her glass. ‘To you and Sam. Happy Wedding Day,’ she says.
‘To me and Sam.’ I clink my glass with hers then we both take a sip of our champagne.
Lynne makes short work of hers, but I sip mine, savouring its crispness, so different from the cheap cava or prosecco I used to drink.
I know without looking at the label that it’s expensive champagne.
Nothing less would do for the Corbett family, for Evelyn.
‘I could get used to this.’ Lynne puts her empty glass down on the coffee table and picks up her bouquet. A beautiful summer assortment of yellow and champagne roses that match her dress perfectly. ‘Shall we go?’
I reach for my bouquet – vintage gold, lemon, and cream roses with white peonies – and nod. ‘I’m ready.’
I walk slowly out of the room and along the hall, Lynne beside me. I want to savour this day, enjoy every minute of it. As we walk towards the front door to the waiting bridal car, my euphoria starts to fade and a sliver of nervousness coils around my stomach. What if something goes wrong?
I refuse to listen to my doubts. Nothing will go wrong. She has tried and lost. Sam and I are getting married today. Nothing can stop that now.
Unless Sam doesn’t turn up.
The only way that would happen would be if he were prevented from turning up.
She wouldn’t! Would she?
I shake at the thought that even now, at this last moment, she could spoil things.
The bridal car pulls up outside the church. I pause outside, wondering if Sam has arrived. Two ushers, friends of Sam’s family, are waiting by the huge wooden doors. ‘Is Sam here?’ I whisper.
‘He’s been here ten minutes,’ one of them tells me and I feel faint with relief.
The ushers turn to open the doors for us to walk through. I take a deep breath to still my nerves and hold my head high. This is my moment, and I don’t want to ruin my entrance.
I walk slowly in to the sound of ‘Here Comes the Bride’, Lynne following me, holding her bouquet.
Sam, standing at the altar beside Nathan, his best man, has his back to me.
I fix my eyes on his dark hair as I make my way up the aisle between the rows of guests, my heart churning.
Then my eyes rest on a familiar dark bob, a white fascinator perched jauntily on top of it, sitting next to my future in-laws, Evelyn and Harold, right at the front, as if she is family.
Tamara. Her parents are on the other side of her.
As I get nearer, I can see that she’s wearing a white dress – typical; she always has to try and steal the limelight.
I take a deep breath. It’s only a dress.
I’m not going to let anything ruin today.
Sam looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet mine and he smiles.
My heart melts, as it always does when he smiles at me.
Tamara doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Today, I’m marrying Sam, the love of my life, and nothing is going to spoil that.
When I reach him and stand by his side, Sam takes my hand in his, his eyes resting on my face.
‘You look beautiful. I love you,’ he whispers.
‘I love you too.’ And I do. So very, very much.
It’s a wonderful ceremony. When the vicar asks if anyone knows of any lawful impediment why we can’t marry, I hold my breath.
This is her last chance to spoil things, but there is nothing she can say.
I know that. Finally, the vicar says the magic words, ‘I now declare you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.’ Sam wraps his arms around me and kisses me, and I have to fight back the tears of happiness.
We’ve made it. We are married. Nothing can come between us now.
Evelyn and Harold step forward and both give me a kiss on the cheek, welcoming me into the family.
Followed by Tamara. And now I can see that her dress is not only white, it’s long, almost reaching the ground.
I know she’s done it on purpose to upstage me, because I wouldn’t agree to her being a bridesmaid, but I don’t care.
It’s just a dress, I tell myself, as I return her kiss on the cheek.
‘Look at her, anyone would think she was the one getting married!’ Lynne hisses.
‘Ignore her,’ I whisper back. Tamara has made it clear that she doesn’t think I’m good enough for Sam, but I’m not going to let her upset me today. Nothing is going to spoil today.
‘Come on, Mrs Corbett, I want to introduce my wife to my colleagues before we have the photos taken,’ Sam says, taking my hand and whisking me off.
‘My wife.’ I repeat his words in my mind and I smile.
After the photos outside the church, we all go back to the manor for the reception.
The day goes by so quickly. The photos, wedding speeches – Nathan, the best man, gives a hilarious speech about Sam and some of the things they both got up to at university.
I laugh but find it difficult to imagine Sam young and irresponsible; he is always so considerate and sensible.
Evelyn purses her lips and frowns in displeasure, but everyone else chuckles.
The marquee looks stunning. Lemon table runners on snow-white tablecloths, lemon bows on snow-white chair covers, lemon and white candles in silver holders.
And in the middle of the top table is a divine three-tiered white wedding cake, decorated with piped lemon icing around each tier and lemon fondant roses. It’s perfect.
‘Let’s have a photograph of you cutting the cake,’ says the photographer. Sam has his arm still linked in mine and leads me over to the table and we stand in front of the cake. He picks up the knife. ‘Ready?’ he asks.
I nod. With one arm around my waist and the other arm holding the sharp cake knife, Sam places it on the bottom tier.
I hold my hand over his as he cuts into the cake.
The photographer snaps photo after photo and everyone claps as the knife slides into the icing, cutting through it.
Tiny chunks of succulent, rich fruit cake fall out.
Sam picks up a few crumbs and puts a bit in my mouth, then in his.
The instant it touches my lips, I feel my tongue and lips start to swell and my chest tighten.
I cough and my throat closes. Fear seizes me in its grip.
I know instantly what has happened. I look around wildly for my bag where I keep my EpiPen, then remember that I left it on my seat.
As I struggle to breathe, my hand clutching at my throat, I can hear Sam calling me, see people starting to panic around me. ‘Get her some water!’ someone shouts.
‘Dana, where’s your EpiPen?’ Sam yells.
‘My bag… my seat,’ I gasp.
‘I’ve got it!’
I recognise Lynne’s voice, but my throat has almost closed and I can’t speak, I can’t breathe.
A vice is tightening around my chest and I know I’m going to die.
The wedding cake was supposed to be nut-free, but I now realise that it wasn’t.
I should have checked. I shouldn’t have trusted her.
She’s done this on purpose. She wanted me out of the way.
Dead. So she can have Sam all to herself.
I look wildly across the room for her, my eyes seeking her out as my hand clutches my throat.
Her eyes meet mine and although her face is a mask of concern, I can see the light of triumph in her eyes.
She’s won, after all. I underestimated her.
My throat is closing up, my lungs are gasping for air, my heart is racing.
I’m dying, I realise in horror. I’m dying on my wedding day.
I close my eyes as I feel a jab in my thigh.
Lynne had found my EpiPen but she’s too late, I think, as darkness sweeps over me.
* * *
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