Chapter 33
LYRA
Livy’s Wedding
The morning has passed in the same frenzied way most weddings do. Usually, I’m photographing the chaos but today, I’m in the thick of it, as Mandy takes the official pictures of my sister’s big day.
Livy, her four bridesmaids – including me – Mum, Mandy, two hair stylists and a make-up artist are all packed into the bridal suite at Earl’s Castle.
It’s funny, seeing it from the perspective of a guest, and I’m surprised how easy it’s been to switch off from my day job and enjoy the build-up of it.
I’ve been enjoying it, or parts of it at least. Livy let me do my own make-up and there was very little the stylist could do with my hair except stick a pretty bridal clip in the back.
If it wasn’t for the fancy blue silk dress that I’d never wear, that’s lower cut than I remember at both the back and the front, I’d feel reasonably like myself.
Livy looks incredible. I know it’s cliché but she does look the best she’s looked in her life – hair in flawless, glossy waves, her face perfectly contoured, a dress that makes her look like a glamorously chic princess.
Above all of that is the sparkling beam she’s worn all morning, only faltering now as she’s photographed holding her bouquet.
It’s clear the enormity of the day she marries the man she loves is dawning on her and it’s…
nice. I love her, I love them. And, yes, the old story about how Joshua preferred her over me is still one that’s been over-told but honestly, I’m pleased he did.
Livy and Joshua will be perfect together.
The only moments of today that I’m not enjoying are when my mind drifts to Guy and the fact we still haven’t spoken since the night he found my pictures and the notes I’d written about him.
Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have written the article and left it by his mailbox.
Perhaps giving him a picture of him and his brother was a step too far.
It was the image I loved, of them sharing a joke together, brothers before bandmates.
But I can see how it could have been invasive.
How writing the article, no matter the content and what my intentions had been, my attempt to show him how in awe of him I am, might have been perceived as doing exactly what he hates – exposing him, even if it was for his eyes only.
The thing is, I’d like to put it all out of my mind, at least for today, and be present, be here, focused on helping Livy have the very best day. But I can’t because Guy is supposed to be the evening’s entertainment and I have no idea if he’s going to turn up. I doubt it.
So once Mandy is finished and tells Livy that she’ll next see her downstairs for the ceremony, I slip outside the bridal suite and ask my friend, ‘Has he arrived to set up?’
‘No. I’m sorry, Lyra.’
‘Sorry, Lyra, like you know he isn’t coming? Or sorry, Lyra, like you just haven’t seen him or Dave drop off any equipment yet but maybe they’re doing the set-up later when the room is switched around?’
She twists her mouth. ‘Sorry like Dave’s dropped off equipment. Lots of it. It looks like one of his bands’ll be stepping in for Guy.’
I drag in a breath and try to hold my back straight when really I feel like a deflated balloon, the last bit of helium turning my voice unnaturally bright. ‘That’s good. Dave’s come through. I can stop worrying.’ I force a grin but the expression Mandy wears tells me I’m not fooling her.
* * *
The ceremony goes off without a hitch – no one passes out, or pukes down Livy’s dress, and at the end of it, my sister has married her best friend.
My dad hands me a tissue afterwards and I try not to smudge my mascara before the group pictures Mandy takes outside.
I’d love to pretend my waterworks are entirely to do with rainbows, unicorns and happily ever afters, but I think that’s a cover for the fact I’m going to take a seat on Table One alone. Alone because I don’t have a plus one.
I’m fixing Livy’s dress for a shot of her tossing her bouquet in the same place I have snapped countless brides, at the top of the palatial stone steps between the lawn and the towering castle, when Mum tells her, ‘She’s here.’
‘Oh my goodness! She made it!’ Livy says, undoing all my hard work as she grabs my hand and hotfoots it down the steps – remarkably steady in the high heels she’ll swap for flats later – dragging me after her.
‘Who made what?’ I’m asking as I’m tugged along.
‘It’s time for your bridesmaid gift,’ she says.
‘Isn’t it me who’s supposed to give you a gift at this stage in the day?’
She’s still dragging me through slightly uncertain onlookers, towards the gravel driveway, where a black cab is parked.
The door opens and I’m waiting for the punchline, flanked by Mum and Livy. ‘Happy My Wedding Day, little sis,’ Livy says, hugging me. ‘Thank you for all your help making today extra special.’
‘A little something of thanks from Dad and me, too,’ Mum says, handing me an envelope.
Dad has stick-hobbled over too and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be watching the cab or opening the envelope, until Mum tells me, ‘Go on then, open it.’
Watching them suspiciously, I tear open the envelope and find two tickets. ‘Flights?’ Then I read the details on them. ‘To Brazil?’ I see my name on the top ticket, then move it to expose a second. ‘With Cami?’
Now I see who steps out of the black cab and Dad hangs an arm around my shoulder, whispering, ‘It’s time to do things you want to do.’
Step out of my bubble. I kiss his cheek, then run to Cami, almost bowling her over as we both squeal, ‘We’re going to Brazil?’ and, simultaneously, ‘You’re coming to Brazil with me!’
And if I had only looked at the table plan, I would have seen, in the seat right next to mine, is Cami Withers.
My family might get on my nerves sometimes but God, I’d bury a body for them and I know they’d do the same for me. I need to find my voice with them; I’m working on it. But I’m bloody lucky, too.
* * *
Cami and I eat and drink and catch up about our summers, getting excited about Cami showing me around Brazil. When she asks about my night at The Arctic Monkeys, I let the wine take over and absolutely spill my guts about Guy. How I messed up. How he messed up. How, basically, we’re screwed.
Then I cry listening to Dad make a short but stunningly beautiful speech, and I have tears of laughter streaming down my face listening to Joshua’s best men. Their jokes are close to the bone in places and feel a bit like karma for that time Josh ditched me for my sister.
And it’s okay. I’m fine. Better than fine.
It’s just that, ‘I miss him,’ I tell Cami when we’re taking a break from wine, pacing ourselves, hanging out in the toilets for some reason.
I’m sitting on a chaise longue, giving my feet a rest from being in heels all day, and Cami is sitting on the side of the marble sinks, as if we’re on a night out at uni, only in much fancier clothes.
‘I’m not going to get sad on my sister’s wedding day but…
I…’ Sighing, I accept a tissue from Cami – garghhhhh, what is it about weddings making everyone emotional?
‘I’ve never felt like I do when I’m with him.
Like I could be anyone, do anything, go anywhere.
He’s the antithesis of me in so many ways and my mirror image in others.
And it’s so stupid and cliché but part of me thought that if I loved him the right way, it would be enough to make him… urgh, I don’t know.’
‘Change?’ she offers.
‘No. Yes. Not change. I love who he is. Just… open up and take a chance. I thought it was happening, I’m sure it was.
Then I blew it. I should have told him about that night when we saw The Hand Me Downs in Newcastle.
I guess I thought he’d see me as some kind of super fan or groupie and that’s not who I am.
Then time passed and it became impossible to tell him.
Plus, he didn’t remember me, so I couldn’t have expected it to be a big deal to him. Could I?’
‘You kind of were a super fan, though,’ Cami adds, making me chuckle, against the odds.
‘Yeah, I was. I am. But my point is, I didn’t want him to think I fell in love with a rock star, rather than everything else he is. Then I showed him the exact opposite anyway.’
‘He also sounds like he massively overreacted, Ly. He ran scared and unless he comes back, cap in hand, with a gesture like something out of the movies, I’d say he’s the one who messed up.’
I blow my nose less than gracefully and toss the tissue into the bronze bin. ‘We both did.’
Cami hops down from the sink. ‘Right. Enough wallowing and self-pity; I’m supposed to be bringing the party.’ She checks her phone from inside her clutch bag. ‘And the party should be getting started by now, so let’s end this wine hiatus and get to the free bar, shall we?’
I smile. Some things never change. ‘Let me just take a wee and I’ll meet you out there.’
‘Ly, we’ve been in here for thirty minutes; why haven’t you had a wee yet?’
‘I only just realised I need one.’
I do the deed and Lyra heads to the bar. Once I’m done, I tidy my face with a make-up retouch and get ready to dance.
In the mirror, I see Mandy and Cami push through the bathroom door together.
‘Lyra, you need to get out here,’ Cami says.
‘You’re gonna wanna see this,’ Mandy adds.
Frowning, but also weirdly vibing their shared excitement, I follow them to the wedding reception, stilling at the back of the room as soon as I see the man standing in the middle of the stage, a full set of lights on him.
A drummer and guitarist I recognise are backing him up, and on stage with them, a violinist and a cello player.
Despite being a full room length away, I know Guy Walker of The Hand Me Downs is looking my way when he tells the room, ‘This one’s called “Addicted”.’