Chapter Fourteen
Kivi
Don’t do it, you idiot.
Every fibre of Kivi’s subconscious was flashing up enormous warning signs. She’ll never look at you in the same way again. She won’t respect you. This will change your relationship dynamic irreparably.
But not in a bad way, she mused. Saskia was already proving to be a guest like no other, as evidenced by the pairs of her socks that were currently hanging on Kivi’s airer. She’d never had a guest book to stay for so long. The dynamics between them were bound to be different, surely?
She grabbed two more cans of beer from the fridge, and smiled as Toto wagged his tail in his sleep.
He was crashed out in the kitchen, nose placed strategically next to food bowl to detect any impending snacks, and he looked like a giant teddy bear.
So much so that she wanted to curl up in his bed next to him and cuddle him.
Hide away in his thick golden fur, and not have to deal with the Pandora’s box she was about two minutes away from opening.
“Here,” she said, handing the beer to Saskia as she stepped back out onto the porch.
Saskia was sitting on the step, looking miraculously poised with one leg delicately folded over the other, and Kivi bit her lip.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything more ‘you’.
I don’t drink wine. Are you okay with beer? ”
“I’m okay with anything,” Saskia said, and gave Kivi a kind smile. “Take a seat.”
“I feel like I’m about to be interviewed,” Kivi grumbled, but did as she bid.
“Not at all.” Saskia continued to smile genially. “You can tell me as much or as little as you’d like. I’m all ears, and all yours for the evening. So take it away.” She popped the lid of her beer. “I’m listening.”
“Fine,” Kivi said, and popped the lid of her own can. “Brace yourself.”
Saskia made a show of gripping onto the step beneath her. Kivi’s mouth twitched.
“So, as you may or may not be aware, gay marriage was legalised in the UK in 2013. I’d been a wedding planner for three years by that point, but fairly obviously, I had only worked for heterosexual couples.
However, in my personal life, I had many gay friends.
‘Gay’ being an umbrella term for the entire LGBT umbrella.
I had friends of all sexualities, all genders, and we all socialised in the local bar. That was how I met Gareth and Drew.
“They were both very astute and wealthy businessmen. Immensely straight-passing, exactly the sort of people who could read a situation instantly and work it to their full advantage. Lillia and I – that’s my girlfriend, at the time – knew them quite well as individuals, and they met through us.
They got together, and as soon as gay marriage was legalised, they got engaged.
It was natural that I would be their wedding planner.
Trouble is, we had to do it on the down-low.
They were both well-known in their industries, but neither of them were out.
Their industries were cut-throat, immensely white, straight and male-dominated.
Drew was mixed race; his mother was from Barbados, I believe.
Gareth, meanwhile, was trans, and had been outed as such several years previously, only just managing to hold onto his position.
So, you see, both of them were on thin ice.
Hence the need to keep the entire wedding very closely guarded from the press, and even from general knowledge.
“That didn’t put me off. I’d handled all sorts of weddings, in all sorts of circumstances.
So we cracked on with the plans, got everything finalised, and no expense was spared.
They both owned their businesses, very profitable ones too.
You’d think that would make them invincible to homophobic arseholes, but no.
It made them more vulnerable, if anything, because they stood to lose so much.
Anyway, I digress. The wedding went off without a hitch.
They got hitched, the day was spectacular, and we all went on with our lives, job well done.
They stopped hanging out with our group for fear of being outed, so we lost touch.
I heard they’d moved away, actually. Until, three years later, I heard from them again. ”
She stopped, and gulped. This would be the hardest bit to articulate. Already she could feel the horror returning.
“Except… not from them, specifically. From their lawyers.”
“They sued you?” Saskia spluttered.
“No, no.” Kivi almost laughed. “I wish they had. They’d killed themselves, Saskia. Both of them. A double suicide.”
“Wha…?”
“I know. That was my reaction too. Turns out they’d been outed after the wedding.
Some… some employee listened in on their calls.
Tapped the line. Tried to blackmail them both, and when they refused to bend, the information got leaked.
And it had the predicted effect. Media shit-storm.
Shareholders causing a ruckus. Homophobic arseholery left, right and centre. ”
“Fuck…” Saskia murmured.
“The thing is, they held onto their positions. They hung on by their fingernails, and eventually things settled down. Except… nothing was the same. The people that mattered didn’t trust them any more.
There was an undercurrent of hostility. A sort of ‘we nearly ousted you once, next time you won’t be so lucky’ vibe.
To the point where they both sold their businesses, and found themselves at loose ends.
“I can only assume that from there, their mental health crumbled together. Six months later, they were found dead in bed together, having both taken an overdose. And the reason I heard from their lawyers? They’d left almost everything to me.”
“What?”
“Yep. I read their suicide letter. They tied everything up in a nice neat pile, and willed it to me. Because, and I quote, ‘Kivi gave us the happiest days of our lives. Our marriage would not have been possible without her help. She was the only person who truly understood us.’”
“Wow.”
“Mm-hmm. So I became a multi-millionaire, overnight. The owner of multiple properties across the UK and abroad, custodian of a cat named Hans who has since passed on, and the carrier of such responsibility. Suddenly, my life had a new meaning. Drew and Gareth had essentially passed their life force onto me. I couldn’t waste that. I needed to make a success of myself.
“Of course, it wasn’t quite so simple as that.
There was an uproar with their families, to whom very little had been left.
They were convinced that I’d somehow manipulated them, coerced them into changing their wills in my favour.
They challenged it, and it became this long legal headache, until I eventually won.
“It also destroyed Lillia and I. She was consumed by jealousy, that all my money worries were taken away in an instant, while they’d left nothing to her.
We had been considering getting married ourselves, but suddenly I couldn’t trust her.
I wanted her to marry me, not the money.
That, combined with the stress of the aforementioned legal headache, ended us.
I’ve not been in a relationship since. Instead, I closed my wedding planning business, and moved here.
Sandy Dunes was one of Drew and Gareth’s houses.
The only one I didn’t sell. I renovated, built the annex, redecorated, and employed my sister as my second-in-command.
She was the only member of my family who stood by me.
The rest of my family fell for all the lies, believing that I’d been in on the boys’ plans all along. ”
Finally, Kivi stopped for air, and took a deep drink.
“Anyway, Saskia, that’s what’s making me nervous about Cass and Felicia.
Another gay couple, one of whom with a publicly known mental health condition – Felicia has Dissociative Identity Disorder.
It’s common knowledge these days. What if things go wrong for them?
What if the same thing happens again? I’m probably the only person in the world who’s scared of gaining assets.
And I know it’s highly unlikely that they’d kill themselves, much less leave everything else to a nobody like me, but there’s still that tiny, tiny little chance. ”
She finally looked up at Saskia, who wore an expression of complete shock. Her mouth twitched again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”
Saskia’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and she bit her lip.
“Yes,” she said eventually. “But with good reason. I see why you’re struggling.
But what happened to Gareth and Drew was a…
an aberration. You never hear of things like this happening – not once, let alone twice.
What are the chances of it happening twice to you? Especially if you hardly know them.”
“I know.” Kivi chuckled despite herself. “I do know that. That’s why I’ve had a drink tonight. That Dutch courage I said about. I promise I don’t normally drink.”
“I’m not judging you,” Saskia said. “You’ve been through some shit, and you’re still affected by that. Anybody would be. So it’s understandable that you have reservations about the situation with Cass and Felicia.”
“I’m going to do it,” Kivi said decisively. “I’m not going to run scared from the what-ifs. Where’s my phone? I’m going to text them and tell them yes.”
Saskia picked it up from the floor where it had fallen, and handed it to her. Hands shaking, Kivi unlocked it, and pulled up Cass’s contact.
“Oh, shit,” she murmured. “What am I letting myself in for? I’m trying to run a guest house over here. Should I be planning a wedding on top of it?”
“I’ll help you,” Saskia said.
Kivi squinted at her in surprise. To be fair to her, she too looked shocked, as if she hadn’t expected herself to say that.
“Was that another case of no brain-to-mouth filter?” Kivi chuckled, giving her an out. Saskia pursed her lips, and shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I will help you. As much as I can, for the next five weeks while I’m here.”
“You ever planned a wedding before?”
“No. But my mum has just gotten engaged. She and her fiancée were hoping to plan the wedding themselves, but they said they’d wait until I got back, so I and my brother can help them.
Neither of us have a clue where to start, but if I got some experience shadowing you…
and gave you a helping hand while you were at it… ?”
“I see,” Kivi chuckled again. “So… an unofficial unpaid internship? Alongside your writing? Will you manage that?”
“It’s not like I have much else to do down here,” Saskia shrugged. “Got no friends. Got no social life. Why not?”
“You will be nice to them?” Kivi eyed Saskia beadily. “You’ll affix a filter between your brain and your mouth? No… ridiculous comments, or accidentally offensive remarks, or anything like that?”
“What do you take me for?” Saskia narrowed her eyes.
“Someone who nearly called me Miss Weed on her first day here.” Kivi glared right back.
Saskia blinked, then pursed her lips. Caught her. “Fine. I promise to be on my best behaviour. Something I’m not really used to. I got away with murder at Chica. They didn’t want to let me go because I produced such fantastic results.”
“Ah. So you were the Scary Miss Berry of the fashion-magazine world. A veritable Miranda Priestly, just with less power.”
“Almost,” Saskia chuckled. “Anyway – enough deliberating. Unlock that phone, and send that text.”
So Kivi did. She typed out a professional, brisk and breezy message, telling the ladies she’d be delighted to plan their wedding, and asking them to arrange a meeting time. And then – with one quick glance at Saskia, who was still smiling – she pressed send.