24
Ella
September 2018
‘W here are you, Ella?’
‘What have you done, you stupid, stupid girl.’
‘This is your father. You need to answer one of us immediately. If you do not, I will send the police looking for you.’
‘Ella, I’m sorry for what I’ve done to upset you. I know I have been stupid. But please, just let me know you’re alive.’
‘You have no idea what you have done to us, as a family, if you do not return and get married to Dean when expected, Ella. You have four weeks to sort yourself out.’
‘Your father is calling the police to register you missing, Ella. You won’t face any repercussions if you just come home for the wedding. Please.’
‘He’s phoned the police, Ella.’
I pass the phone to Matt and we both sigh.
“A few unknown numbers. I wonder if that’s been the police if he has reported you missing,” Matt ponders.
“If the police don’t deem Ella a risk, they won’t do much,” Nick chimes in, serving up pancakes for breakfast. “It’s been five days since you guys left. That text is from when?”
“Two days ago,” Matt answers.
“Right, so they try to contact someone if they’re over eighteen. They’ll then look at the risk she could be in. You’re medically fit, right?” Nick asks, and I nod. “She’s not a minor. It depends if your dad tells them about the arranged marriage. If they tell the police about it properly, then the police will know why you’ve run away. If they make it sound like you wanted to marry him, then it could be a cause for concern with them. They’ll then talk to your friends if your parents know about them, or Dean does. They’ll search hospitals and whatnot. I assume the concierge from your building will know you’ve left; he’ll know about Matt.”
“Shit,” Matt mutters. “Ells, we didn’t even think about that. He’ll describe me. I don’t know if he knows me by name. They’ll work it out—”
I nod. “Yeah, but we knew they would eventually work it out. The main thing is that we left no ties to where we are.”
“The estate agent has my number, Ella,” Matt says, showing me his phone. “They’ll give that to the police.”
“Even when they get in contact with Ella, she’s an adult. The police will tell your parents that you’re alive. They won't give out your location or anything beyond you being safe. The thing is, if they don’t deem Ella to be at risk of harm, they might not even investigate, which means they might not even ask the concierge or the estate agent. They’ll most likely just say it’s a case of Ella not wanting to be in contact anymore, not investigate and refer them to some charity or something that can help them track you. By the time they even get close to trying to find you, you’ll either be married or moved on elsewhere.”
“Once we get married, it’ll be easier for them to find us,” I mention. “Because they register my maiden name and my married name.”
“But by then, even if they do, they can’t force you to marry Dean, so point proven, and it doesn’t matter, does it?” Matt loads his fork with pancakes.
“You have to give notice twenty-eight days before your marriage. I’m surprised they’re not trying to get to you now for the wedding.”
“Even if they know about me, they won’t know where I live, or where Nick lives—”
I glance down at my food, suddenly feeling sick. Dean’s smart if nothing else, it won’t take him long to find us. If he does know about Matt, surely—
No, Ella, just forget it.
Or is he purposefully giving me time? Maybe he’s given up on the thought of marrying me.
I internally laugh; no way that would ever happen.
“They’ll be looking for me,” I say.
“I’m not that hard to find,” Nick points out.
I sigh. “I don’t know. But them being slow or nice or whatever works to our advantage.”
“For people who talk about how important this is, they’re being slow,” Matt says.
“Again, they will do something . Even if they can’t find me, they’ll move the date willingly if it means they have me home,” I point out. “All they want is me there and willing, so to speak.”
“My advice is to book an appointment now for you two to give notice and get it done, then you’re on a countdown and know when you’re safe. You have to give notice in Southampton, though. But you can get married wherever you want,” Nick says.
“How did you get so clued up on this shit?” I ask.
“I have friends in the force, and I did a bit of research myself. Carry on with your plans and if the police investigate, they’ll find you. You’re covered even if they find you, Ella.” He squeezes my shoulder in comfort as he stands and walks out to get ready for work.
“I’ll get in contact with the Council and book us in, shall I? Not the crazy romantic way I wanted to suggest booking a date to marry you, but the idea was there.”
I chuckle. “I think, given the circumstances, I can forgive you. Just this once.” In response, he leans across and kisses my forehead.
∞∞∞
“Fourth of October.”
I glance up from the book I’m reading to see Matty leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest and a questioning look.
“What about it? It’s like, just over a month away.” I shrug and put my book down and Bailey takes its place.
Matty smirks, shaking his head. “I thought you’d take the hint, but clearly not. So, I’ll say it this way instead: what are your plans for October fourth, Ells Bells?”
I think about it. “Well, I haven’t made plans—”
“Okay, so how about spending the morning becoming Mrs Davenport instead?”
My hand stops stroking Bailey and I gently move her so I can stand up. “Did you – did you book our wedding?”
“Yep. It’s not romantic in the slightest, however, it is in the nicer rooms in the registry office here,” Matt says. “I made two calls; we have to give notice in two days, on the third of September, in Southampton, then on the fourth of October at eleven in the morning, I’m going to marry you, finally.”
They say pride is a sin, but when Matt looks at me with pride etched on his face, I can see it could never be a sin on him. I snake my arms around his neck and kiss him, taking some of that pride for myself.
Nothing sounds better than him telling me we’re going to get married.
“Mrs Ella Davenport.”
“Well, if that’s what you want. You can keep your name if you want, but I assumed with your family history—”
“I want to take your name, silly.”
“Huh, well, that’s good news. I didn’t fancy Mr Matthew Webb. Sounds funny!” He wrinkles his nose.
His hand cups my face and warm tingles form like a spider’s web across my body. His eyes glow into mine and I relax; this is how it’s meant to be. Every single worry, every single panic, every time I hear car doors outside and worry if it’s Dean or my family – every bad thing melts away like butter in a hot pan when he holds me.
“Nothing is going to ruin this, Ells. If they find us, we’ll move on. I don’t care what happens; I will marry you on October fourth, and we will get our happily ever after.”
His words fall on me like confetti; settling and not leaving unless I brush them off, but I don’t brush them off. I collect them in my mind and keep them like things to treasure. I pull him closer to me until I’m reaching on tiptoes to bury my face in his neck.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” I whisper into his skin, hoping my words sink in and stay with him forever.
∞∞∞
I sit in the registry office, waiting for Matt to finish giving his legal notice two days later, and bite my nails. Something I haven’t done in years; every time I would as a child, Mum would tap my hand away and tell me it’s bad for your nails, or how ‘uncouth’ it looks. To be fair, once she showed me photos of how infected nails looked, I soon stopped biting them and she started rewarding me with manicures and nail varnishes.
But now, being back in Southampton – not far from my flat of all places – I find myself wanting nothing more than to munch nervously on my nails. I should have bought chewing gum.
What got to me was how the registrar told us both, before we had to separate, that our names will go up on public view on their TV system to show that we intend to get married. Luckily, our wedding date and time doesn’t show up, so even if my family did see my name up there, they wouldn’t know how to contact me.
I watch the TV screens, watching all the people who have also given notice and smile. Even if they tracked me down, even if they forced me back with them and make me marry Dean, I would still have to give notice of that wedding, and if they even allowed it legally – I would have to wait four weeks minimum to marry him.
Once upon a time, before that stupid party, I probably would’ve done it. I would’ve sat there with Dean and smiled and said I couldn’t wait to marry him.
Luckily, the registrar lady didn’t ask about the appointment I failed to attend a week ago to give my notice of marriage to Dean; I doubt she even checked.
“All done!” Matty appears down the narrow corridor. “We can legally get married, Ells Bells!”
I stand up and our lips collide; the salty tears of relief mix in and he smirks as we part.
“I never thought this could be possible!” I laugh, wiping my tears away.
“Well, it is happening. We did it, Ells.”
“I hate to be that person, but it isn’t over until we become legally man and wife.”
He rolls his eyes at me, though the smile on his perfectly oval face deceives him. “Trust you to try to ruin it. Even if they do find us here, they won’t know where we are. In the time it’ll take them to see this and find us, we’ll be married.”
I love hearing those words coming out of his mouth, and I can’t help but smile.
“Tell me again.”
As if by magic, he knows what I mean. “We’ll be married, Ells Bells.”
It even sounds like magic; the way his smooth, perfect voice tells me that we’ll be married. It’s like that first taste of pumpkin spice latte after a long summer of waiting, it’s like the first touch of snow when you’re a child, it’s like the first glimpse of the presents Father Christmas leaves on Christmas morning.
He grabs my hand, and we walk out of the registry office to rush to his car and get inside, scared in case anyone we know is around.