Chapter 31
It should probably have occurred to Hannah that Marc might choose today – the day of her brother’s wedding, and the most high-profile event she’d ever been professionally involved with – to make his final move. Somehow, though, it didn’t.
After the wedding breakfast – which had comprised Charlie’s crab and saffron tarts, the roast guinea fowl and Jude’s favourite dessert, raspberry mousse – the space had been rearranged.
It now boasted a beautiful, polished parquet dance floor and a small stage, where Gavin, the DJ from Ed and Joe’s favourite Manchester nightclub, was set up and spinning tunes.
As her mum and Claire chased a tired-looking Alfie and Harry around the dance floor to Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way’, Hannah – who was standing hand in hand with Jude at the bar – noticed Livi remonstrating with a smug-looking man in his late thirties.
He appeared to be carrying an acoustic guitar . . .
‘Oh, holy fuck,’ Jude muttered under his breath. ‘How did he get in here? How did he even find out this is where we’d be?’
‘I knew the location had leaked weeks ago,’ Hannah groaned, feeling her partially digested lunch lurch in her stomach.
‘The posts mentioning Renfrew weren’t up for very long, but he must have been paying attention.
And there’ve been enough “excited for tomorrow!” posts from Joe’s friends for Marc to have felt confident today was the day. ’
Claire’s husband Ash – handsome in a navy suit, and more than a little reminiscent of the actor Dev Patel – appeared at Hannah’s side. ‘Is that who I think it is?’ When she nodded, he asked: ‘Isn’t today supposed to be guest list only?’
‘It is,’ Hannah said, scowling, ‘and security was tight – people had to show their invitations as they arrived. He must be somebody’s plus-one.’
‘What?’ Jude burst out.
‘It’s the only explanation,’ Hannah said, impressed with herself for thinking logically and sounding calm when what she wanted to do was scream and stamp her feet.
‘And they must have arrived late, too, or I’d have seen him already.
He’s a fame-hungry chancer, and – not to be mean – he’s far from the only person here that description applies to.
Whoever brought him may well have done so innocently, not knowing what he’s been up to.
It might even have been arranged by their managers, a quid pro quo thing.
You get me into this event, I’ll get you into that one . . .’
‘Should we call someone? Get him removed? I could call 999?’ Ash said.
‘This is hardly an emergency,’ Hannah said drily.
‘What are you going to say when the operator asks what the problem is? “Help, there’s a terrible singer-songwriter threatening to perform for us”?
He’s here because there’s media here,’ she went on.
‘His latest posts haven’t been getting the same traction as the first ones he made about his new music.
My guess is he’s planning to try and serenade me and get whoever brought him here to photograph it, so he can pass it off as some big romantic gesture. ’
‘But he’s not supposed to be here!’ Jude protested, infuriated that Hannah was still having to play whack-a-mole with this idiot – today of all days. ‘He’s a real-life wedding crasher!’
‘He is, but putting that out there doesn’t make me look good, does it?’ Hannah said. ‘Also, I hate to say it, but Marc turning up tonight is just another thing Joe was right about.’
Ash snorted a laugh, and Jude frowned. ‘How so?’
‘He told me a few weeks ago that Marc’s PR strategy was linked to this event – that the press would be more interested in who he was singing sad songs about if they were linked to someone else with a profile.’
‘So you don’t think he’s sincerely obsessed with you?’ Ash asked.
‘No. I’m sure being dumped gave his pride a bit of a bashing – but he’s far more bothered about his desperate attempt to relaunch his musical career than he’s ever been about me.’
‘Hannah, glad as I am that you don’t appear to be panicking, we need to do something,’ Jude interjected. ‘It looks like Livi’s about to confiscate his guitar and then beat him with it.’
‘She won’t,’ Hannah said. ‘She’s too smart for that.
We’re in a room that’s at least half full of journalists and social media influencers.
She knows we have to try and get him out of here with as little drama as possible because people will start shooting content at the first real sign of trouble.
Then there’s no telling where it’ll end up. ’
‘Shit. That’s true.’
‘I’m going over there,’ Hannah said decisively. It was loud in the carriage house, and most of the wedding guests were well-sauced enough that they hadn’t noticed anything was going on yet – but that wouldn’t last long.
Jude was right, though: she wasn’t panicking.
She’d entered crisis management mode, which tended to empower before it exhausted her.
What was more, while there were plenty of people in this room who’d make hay online if Marc kicked off, unlike the last time he’d accosted her she was surrounded by friends and family.
She was also willing to bet that Marc’s oversized ego had hindered him from considering a fact she deemed important.
If he made a scene here, he wouldn’t be in control of how it went or how it was reported.
While Hannah didn’t want her brother’s wedding day hijacked in any way, a fuss now could easily play as badly for Marc as it might for her.
That was what she planned to tell him as she made her way through a thick throng of dancers throwing themselves around to a Chappell Roan song.
‘He won’t leave,’ Livi hissed as Hannah arrived by her sister’s side.
‘Please, Hannah, just spare me a moment,’ Marc said loudly. Unfortunately, his words coincided with a momentary pause in the music. ‘All I want is to play you another track from my new record. You inspired it, after all.’
Gavin had been set to alert the crowd to the presence of buffet snacks and cocktails, but, hearing this, he looked to Hannah and Livi for guidance.
The DJ’s expression seemed to say, This is weird, but I can work with it, and Hannah shook her head sharply.
She hoped Gavin understood that this meant, Under no circumstances are you to let this guy near your microphone.
‘That isn’t appropriate, Marc,’ Hannah said calmly.
‘You know this is my brother’s wedding day.
’ She noted that Ed and Joe had both clocked what was going on.
They were seated at a small table in the far corner of the room with some of Ed’s colleagues, including Brett the geography teacher, whose adoring gaze seemed to be trained on Livi.
Ed was staring furiously at Marc, while Joe radiated wry amusement.
His eyes briefly connected with Hannah’s, and she understood that he wasn’t worried about the possibility there’d be a kerfuffle here – at least, not one the assembled journalists and online types would blame her for.
She trusted his judgement, and felt the churning of her stomach slow a little.
Undeterred, and now aware he had an audience, Marc strode a few paces further into the room. People instinctively moved out of the way to let him through, until Hannah stepped directly into his path and held up a palm to halt his progress. He’d left her no choice but to confront him.
‘Marc,’ she said, choosing her words carefully, ‘this isn’t right.
This is a family occasion, and I’m also here in a professional capacity, as you know.
You and I said all we needed to say to one another months ago, but you’ve insisted on bothering me.
All this, despite the fact that we only ever went on a few dates, and I’d told you I wasn’t interested in anything serious. ’
Her tone was firm but measured, yet from the corner of her eye she could see several people had pulled phones from their pockets. This wasn’t what Hannah had wanted, but she was going to have to roll with it now. To her surprise, one of the people filming was Claire.
‘I know I’m overstepping, Hannah,’ Marc said, ‘but when I was asked to come along today it felt like fate. And love makes a sensitive soul do desperate things.’ He performed a what are you gonna do shrug for the benefit of the crowd, all of whom were now watching with rapt attention.
Hannah heard one or two scornful sighs, and her courage rose.
‘It isn’t sensitive to harass a woman who no longer wishes to see you,’ Hannah said crisply, hoping that every microphone in the room was picking this up.
‘And this is the third time you’ve done it.
Nor is it a sign of affection to write thinly disguised songs about someone that deliberately misrepresent them, and their behaviour, then share them online.
’ Hannah thought back to what Charlie had said on the morning Livi shut down the Eventurous social media accounts.
‘Taking aim at my business through your music is no less vindictive than review-bombing it,’ she said.
‘You don’t get to describe the attack as “romantic” just because you’re strumming a guitar while you do it. ’
People actually laughed at this, and Hannah smelled victory.
‘But . . . but we’re meant to be,’ Marc said, putting all the feeling he could into this last, desperate attempt to garner sympathy.
‘You’re the one for me, and I’m the one for you.
I’ve known it from the first second we laid eyes on one another.
You’re frightened of opening your heart, but with the right person you don’t have to be afraid.
And I’m the right person, Hannah. We both know it. ’
‘But you’re not,’ she told him, finally exasperated and feeling the influence of all the wine she’d drunk at dinner.
‘Him, over there – he’s the right person.
’ Hannah pointed at Jude, who’d obeyed her strict instructions to stay with Ash at the bar while she handled this.
‘He’s been my best friend since I was thirteen years old, and my heart – every single cell of it, every microscopic atom – has belonged to him since we were children.
I was never going to fall in love with you because I will always love someone else.
That’s why I said no the first five times you asked me out.
It’s why I told you I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship.
You didn’t hear me because you weren’t listening. That’s on you, not me.’
There was a whoop from somewhere near the back of the room, and a ripple of applause.
The glower on Marc’s face warned Hannah this was about to turn ugly just seconds before he said, ‘You’re a stone-hearted bitch. I don’t know what I saw in you, anyway.’
A voice from behind Hannah said, ‘You’re not going to be seeing much through the black eyes you’re headed for if you don’t leave now, mate.’ It was Ed, his good nature finally roused to rage somewhere other than on a sports field.
Jude was suddenly beside her, too, and shouldering his way past Ed as though he wanted to be the one who took Marc down. The use of the word ‘bitch’ seemed to have flipped some switch inside him that Hannah hadn’t been sure existed.
There was a flurry of activity, the sound of male bodies coming together and a lot of pushing and shoving.
Some of the more inebriated wedding guests began chanting, ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ and for a moment it was like being back in the Hassop Hill playground.
As quickly as it had started, Brett and one of his colleagues – teachers to the core, it seemed – were helping Jude escort Marc from the premises.
‘Sorry, Hannah,’ Jude said immediately when she reached him. ‘I know I shouldn’t have done that, but—’
She kissed him before he could finish apologising. ‘Marc had it coming. And honestly . . . it was pretty hot.’