Chapter 37
37
It was the day of the wedding and it felt like it was both a beginning and an end. George couldn’t face getting out of bed. Quinn had text her all night, begging for her to reply, begging to see her. Then, he had started calling her. In the end, she switched her phone off. She was too scared to turn it on this morning, knowing her resolve might not last. Half of her wanted to see him again; the more sensible half of her told her to stay away. She had been having this fight with her conscience ever since they’d met. Besides, this morning, he’d be dressing in his wedding suit, getting ready to get married. It didn’t get any more final than that.
There was a knock on the door and then it opened. Marisa came in, carrying a tray of food.
‘Morning. I’ve made you ham, cheese and red onion omelettes with a tomato coulis. Mum made the coffee,’ Marisa informed, bringing the tray over to the bed.
‘God, I’ve been teaching you too much. Before long, you’re going to be taking over the business,’ George remarked, pulling herself into a sitting position.
‘I think I need to like, maybe, do a college course, in catering. Like, maybe in the evenings or something,’ Marisa said, watching as George prepared to take a mouthful of the food .
‘You want to go to college? That’s great,’ George told her.
‘Yeah, I know, but the fees are like…’ Marisa began nervously.
‘You want me to pay?’
‘Well Adam said I should ask, but if you can’t then…’ Marisa said.
‘You get me the information from the college; I’ll look into the finances. Is Adam OK?’ George asked.
‘I think so. I told him he should talk to you, properly like he used to and get over himself,’ Marisa replied.
‘Thank you,’ George answered, eating some food.
‘We – er – kind of – like got together last night. Not like, you know, in bed or anything, just, you know, a bit of—’ Marisa began.
‘OK, got the general idea,’ George said, hurriedly interrupting.
‘I just thought you should know. You know, what with being his mum and everything,’ Marisa said.
‘Thanks and I’m pleased. He likes you a lot,’ George spoke.
‘He said he’s liked me for ages but didn’t think I liked him. Like how could I not? He’s hot, I mean, he’s really nice, and clever and everything and obviously like great on the piano,’ Marisa said, blushing.
‘So, is he helping us out today?’ George asked.
‘Yeah, he’s downstairs messing about with the violin Quinn gave him for his solo thing today. He’s really nervous, though he wouldn’t admit that. So, don’t say I told you.’
‘OK, I won’t mention it,’ George agreed.
‘He says Quinn’s a mess. Apparently, he got drunk last night, climbed up onto the roof of the villa and sat there for hours, just drinking on his own,’ Marisa informed her .
‘You haven’t told Adam about me and Quinn, have you?’
‘No, Girl Guide’s honour. I’ll take it to the grave.’
‘Were you a Girl Guide?’
‘Well, no. But I was in Brownies for a while, you know, made cups of tea and tied knots and stuff like that,’ Marisa answered with a grin.
George smiled at her. Despite her previous reservations about Marisa and Adam, she couldn’t help but admire her youthful enthusiasm and joie de vivre. Perhaps that was exactly what he needed in his life: something light and uncomplicated – something fun.
‘Are you going to be OK today? I mean, seeing him, getting married, you know, in front of the entire world,’ Marisa asked.
‘Yeah, I’ll be fine,’ George replied with more confidence than she really felt.
Marisa stayed standing by the bed, just looking at George. The scrutiny of her stare got too much and George looked up at her.
‘You’ve nothing to worry about. You’re going to romp the catering course; these omelettes are really good,’ she told her.
‘Really?!’ Marisa exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and clapping her hands together.
‘Really,’ George assured her.
‘OK, time check. How long have we got?’ George questioned later, flicking her hair back as she bent over a mixing bowl.
George, Marisa and her team, Helen and Adam had been working in the catering van all morning, preparing the wedding banquet. Outside, it was over thirty degrees and inside, with all the ovens going, it was almost melting point. It was a perfect, blue sky day and the wedding photos would look fantastic. It almost seemed like the weather had been choreographed, as well as everything else.
‘It’s forty-one minutes until the ceremony starts,’ Marisa informed, looking at her stopwatch.
‘OK, then we’re doing fine,’ George said, wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve.
‘I’d better get changed and get up there. I’m sure they won’t want the lead violinist dressed in an apron,’ Adam spoke with a smile.
‘You look sexy in that apron, actually,’ Marisa piped up.
‘Enough already. Is that what they say these days when they want it to stop?’ Helen said.
Although he was there, Adam had been quiet all morning, diligently working, sharing the odd joke with Marisa, but he still hadn’t really communicated with her. Before he left the van, George needed to try and make things better. She caught his arm as he passed her.
‘Look, Adam. Thanks for helping us out today.’
It sounded pathetic. It didn’t sound nearly enough when she had shaken the foundations of his world.
‘That’s OK,’ Adam answered, shrugging.
‘Adam, listen. I don’t want things to change, you know, between us. I don’t want you to think I’m suddenly going to develop a passion for bingo or that I’m going to start controlling your life,’ George told him.
‘I’ve already got someone who tries to do that,’ Adam reminded her.
‘I know and I wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Honestly, I can still be annoying and boss you about like I always have and you can still tell me how much you drink at the Student Union.’
‘I never really told you the truth about that,’ Adam answered with half a smile.
‘I know it must be weird for you, but we can just take things slowly, one step at a time – or we can never talk about it again. All I ever wanted was for you to know the truth and for you to know how much I love you,’ George assured him, tears pricking her eyes.
Adam nodded soberly.
‘So, are we friends again?’ George wanted to know, swallowing back the emotion.
‘Will you tell me about my dad? Properly, I mean. What he was like, what he looked like, you know – stuff I should know,’ Adam asked.
‘Of course I will, if that’s what you want. I’ve got photos,’ George spoke, nodding.
‘OK, well I’d better go,’ Adam said, checking his watch again.
‘Yes, well, break a leg or whatever they say in the music business,’ George said awkwardly.
‘I will,’ he replied and he hurried down the steps, nearly bowling over a Channel Nine film crew.
George closed the door and looked at her employees, hurriedly preparing things to go in the oven or the fridge. All this work for a sham wedding seemed criminal but she knew there were guests from American magazines, people would notice the food and it was important to get it right. It was the only thing in her life she had a chance to get right now.
‘You OK?’ Helen asked, looking up and noticing the expression on George’s face.
‘Yeah, fine. You know, I don’t think I’ll come up for the wedding,’ George said, wiping her hands on the front of her apron.
‘What?! But you have to! Adam’s playing for a whole castle full of celebrities. Taylor’s dress is like encrusted in at least ten million diamonds or something and Quinn’s apparently wearing a dove-grey linen suit with turquoise trimmings. I can only imagine how well that’s going to go with his eyes,’ Marisa exclaimed, looking up.
‘Marisa!’ Helen exclaimed .
‘Oh God, I completely forgot you’d—’ Marisa began.
Helen coughed loudly and hissed at her daughter.
‘Do not inform the entire room of it!’
‘Shit, sorry!’ Marisa said to George.
‘It’s OK. You can tell me all about it afterwards and I’m sure there’ll be plenty of pictures in Star Life magazine,’ George spoke.
‘They’ve got a special souvenir issue going on,’ Marisa informed.
Helen went over to George and patted her affectionately on the shoulder.
‘Is it definitely over?’ she asked her quietly.
‘Yep. He’s marrying Taylor; there’s no going back after that,’ George said with a determined nod.
‘There is someone out there for you, George,’ Helen assured.
‘Yeah, maybe. Not that it matters; I mean, who needs a man anyway, right? They’re nothing but trouble: the ones I fall for, anyway,’ George said.
Her defences were back up and her tough exterior, although not completely restored, was definitely going to withstand the crater-sized cracks that had opened up. It would take time, but she had lots of that and maybe more business off the back of the wedding would help her through it.
There was a knock on the door and Marisa leapt to open it, getting cream and garlic sauce on the handle.
‘Hello,’ she said, greeting Dennis, the larger-than-life security guy.
‘I’ve got a packet for George Fraser,’ Dennis informed in his usual gruff manner.
‘Oh, she’s here. I’ll give it to her,’ Marisa offered.
She shut the door and looked at the packet.
‘Dennis brought this for you,’ she said, holding it out to George.
George took it from her and put it to one side .
‘Well, aren’t you going to open it?’ Marisa questioned.
‘No, I need to check the chicken and I need to do another batch of sauce and—’ George began, walking across the room to distract herself.
‘I’ll open it then,’ Marisa said, picking up the parcel and turning it over in her hands.
‘You will not, Marisa,’ Helen spoke warningly.
‘Just leave it, please. In fact, there isn’t long to go now. Why don’t you guys go up to the function room and check it’s all been laid up correctly. Marisa, Helen why don’t you go up to the wedding,’ George suggested.
‘I’m not really fussed about going, to be honest. All that expense, releasing pink doves, elaborate harpists and water fountains. It isn’t really my thing,’ Helen remarked with a sniff.
‘Mother! You have to come! Quinn invited us! And we have to support Adam! After today, he’s going to be hot property. Well he already is, but like, not on the music scene, yet,’ Marisa spoke excitedly.
‘Yes, go, Helen. You can tell me all about it afterwards. The toned-down, proper version, instead of the over-the-top, exaggerated version I might get from Marisa,’ George said.
‘I take offence at that!’ Marisa called.
‘Are you sure you don’t want any help here?’ Helen checked.
‘I’m sure. Everything’s under control,’ George insisted.
‘Right! Let me get out of this apron and slip into something more chic,’ Marisa said, untying the pinny and throwing it down.
It was like a fairground. All that was missing was the Ferris wheel and the candyfloss sellers. People were smiling at him. They were all dressed in their finest, the whole colour wheel represented in silk, linen and chiffon. He felt sick to the stomach. Getting married shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be about putting on a show; it should be about the main players, the bride and the groom, and how they feel about each other. He was damn sure creating an eau de parfum wasn’t the right basis for a life together. But what he’d shared with George was. He had no doubt about that. And she’d said no.
The castle was full to capacity with beautiful people in flamboyant outfits. The orchestra was situated to the left of the front doors, and to the right were the water fountain and the elaborate harpist. She was playing music by Handel as the guests took their seats.
‘He’s here then,’ Marisa remarked as she adjusted her dress.
She and Helen took a seat each at the back of the room.
‘Who? Adam? Yes, doesn’t he look gorgeous in that suit? I’m very pleased about you two, Marisa. He’s a lovely boy,’ Helen told her.
‘I wasn’t talking about Adam; I meant Quinn. He’s at the front there, with Belch looking as scruffy as ever. I mean, like he’s wearing a suit, but he still manages to look like he’s spent all night in a ditch. The state Adam said Quinn was in last night, I’m surprised he’s not got a bucket by the side of him,’ Marisa commented.
‘Poor George, it must be hard for her, knowing he’s marrying someone else. I think she really fell for him,’ Helen whispered to her daughter.
‘And now she knows she’s second best. That’s gotta hurt,’ Marisa added.
‘He doesn’t look too well though, does he? He looks very pale and he keeps glancing back at the door,’ Helen remarked .
‘Well, that’s what they do, don’t they? All grooms do that. They get all sweaty and clammy and start adjusting the collar of their shirt and whispering nervously to the best man. And when they’re not doing that, they’re like smiling at their mad old aunts with the freaky hats,’ Marisa informed.
‘You haven’t been to that many weddings.’
‘No but I’ve seen them on EastEnders . I’m hoping for some face slapping and a paternity reveal at the reception.’
‘I think we’ve had enough revelations this week, don’t you?’ Helen remarked.
The harpist stopped playing and silence fell over the guests as Adam got to his feet and tucked the violin under his chin.
‘Oh. My. God! Have you seen her dress? It’s like sooo over the top. I totally love it!’ Marisa remarked loudly as the congregation rose to their feet.
Taylor stood at the entrance to the room, wearing a white, full-length gown in satin, encrusted with diamonds and pearls. She was wearing a veil over her face and her silk-gloved hand was holding tightly onto Roger’s arm. She smiled at people who greeted her with happy, hopeful expressions and then walked confidently forward as Adam began to play.
George swigged from a bottle of lager and looked at her watch. The wedding would be starting and she couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. She couldn’t see him marry Taylor. It would be like having her face rubbed in it. It didn’t matter whether he loved Taylor or not; he didn’t love her enough to stop it.
She looked at the packet on the worktop and picked it up. She took a deep breath and ripped open the top, shaking out what was inside. It landed on the worktop in front of her: a leather bracelet, old, worn and broken in half.
George picked it up with a trembling hand and just stared at it. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t breathe; she felt sick. She looked again at one of the pieces and her heart felt like it was going to burst open. This couldn’t be real; it was someone’s cruel trick. Roger’s revenge, maybe? But there it was, in her hands, and her conversation with Quinn the previous day played through her mind.
She looked at her watch, her whole body trembling. She knew what she had to do. She had to stop the wedding.