The Disengagement Ring

Chapter 1

The sun poured in through the high stained-glass windows of St Jude’s, throwing multi-coloured patterns on the polished wooden floor and onto Kate O’Neill’s dress as she floated down the aisle on a cloud of silk to the strains of ‘The Bridal March’.

She felt weightless, as though she were floating above the ground, her father’s arm the only thing anchoring her to the earth and preventing her flying up to the ceiling like a helium balloon.

On both sides heads spun to watch her pass, and she exulted in the admiring looks and the gasps of delight as she wafted by.

She had never felt so beautiful or powerful in her whole life.

It’s true what they say, she thought, this really is the happiest day of your life.

She acknowledged the smiles and good wishes of her family and friends as she moved towards the broad shoulders and bent dark head of the tall figure waiting for her at the altar.

She was touched to see Johnny Depp among the guests, smiling bravely at her while he received consoling pats on the shoulder from her relations – poor darling Johnny, whose heart she had so cruelly broken.

She felt the spark between them as his dark eyes met hers, and she experienced a moment of panic.

Was she mad to have thrown him over for—

Just then, when she was within a foot of the altar, the dark head lifted and turned towards her.

She felt Will’s smile like a physical caress – a smile of such tenderness and warmth that it banished all doubt.

As he took her hand, gazing adoringly into her eyes, she knew everything was exactly as it should be.

She had never been so sure of anything in her life…

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

‘Holy shit!’ Kate shot upright in bed and hit the button on the alarm clock.

She checked the time – eight o’clock – and collapsed back against the pillows.

Still disoriented from her dream, she struggled to remember where she was and what day it was.

The sun was pouring through the window, and she took in the posters of Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp and Leonardo DiCaprio that papered the walls, the dressing table covered with cheap makeup and perfume, the wardrobes bulging with teenage clothes.

It was her old bedroom in her parents’ house.

And, looming over it, the dreaded dress was hanging on the cheval mirror.

The big day had arrived, and at two o’clock she would have to walk down the aisle of St Jude’s in it to the strains of ‘The Bridal March’, just like in her dream – except that now she was awake it felt more like a nightmare.

She smiled at the image of Johnny Depp, smouldering enigmatically at her from the wall, oozing cool.

No prizes for guessing why you turned up in my dream, she thought.

But why on earth had she been dreaming about Will Sargent?

Okay, so she would be walking down the aisle today while the organist played ‘The Bridal March’ and Will would be standing at the altar rail – but she wouldn’t be the bride, and he wouldn’t be the groom.

She didn’t even think about him that way any more…

did she? She’d got over her stupid teenage crush on him years ago, so why was she suddenly dreaming about marrying him? It was very unsettling.

Hearing signs of life downstairs, she knew she couldn’t put off getting up any longer. Rachel’s big day was kicking off with a family breakfast, and she was under strict instructions to attend.

‘In real life I would have picked you,’ she told Johnny Depp, as she threw back the covers and got out of bed.

The evidence of last night’s down-to-the-wire arrival from the airport was all over the room, and a rucksack full of dirty clothes spewed its contents onto the floor where she had raked through it the evening before to find her toothbrush.

She hopped around the room, avoiding duty-free bags and tripping over carved Masai warriors as she gathered up shampoo, conditioner, soap and deodorant, then headed for the shower.

Oh Christ! she suddenly thought. Knickers! She didn’t have a single clean pair, or a bra for that matter. Rather than ask Rachel to lend her some, she rummaged through her bags for her mobile phone and dialled her flatmate Freddie’s number.

* * *

Feeling more human after breakfast and a shower, Kate stood in front of her bedroom mirror and examined her naked body.

It had taken two rounds of conditioner to get the knots out of her hair, but she was scrubbing up like a regular Eliza Doolittle.

She had a fantastic tan, and, best of all, the trip had done wonders for her figure.

She had spent the past three months working as a cook on an overland expedition in Africa, travelling from Kampala to Cape Town.

It had been hard work, physically demanding and often exhausting to the point of tears, but she had loved every minute of it.

And it had certainly paid off, she thought, looking over her shoulder at her bum and thighs, which she reckoned were about half the size they used to be. And she had a waist!

She caught sight of the dress again, and her spirits sank. It seemed such a waste – she had lost all this weight and now she had to cover herself up in that great balloon. Well, she thought, pulling it off its hanger, might as well know the worst.

As she slipped it on, the raw silk felt cold and deliciously sexy against her skin. She felt her nipples harden as she pulled it over her shoulders. She stood back and surveyed herself in the mirror, pulling a face. How was she supposed to face her teenage crush looking like this?

‘Freddie’s on his way up, love,’ her father shouted, from the bottom of the stairs.

A second later, there was a rap on the bedroom door. ‘Are you decent?’ he called, bouncing in without waiting for an answer.

‘Freddie!’ Kate squealed, spinning around from the mirror and rushing across the room to throw herself into his arms. ‘I missed you,’ she said as he hugged her. He gave the best bear hug of anyone she knew.

‘Me too.’ He smiled down at her. ‘So, how was Africa?’

‘Brilliant – I’ll tell you all about it later. Sorry I couldn’t get home last night. My flight was delayed, and I had to come straight here from the airport.’

‘You were cutting it a bit fine, weren’t you?’

‘I know, and I’m in terrible trouble around here, but the trip ran way over schedule. For a while I wasn’t sure I’d even get back in time. Rachel was going mental, and I still haven’t been forgiven for missing the rehearsal.’

‘Still,’ she pulled away from Freddie and tugged at the voluminous skirt, ‘she’s got her revenge.’

Freddie waved the plastic bag he was carrying. ‘I brought your knickers and bra. Couldn’t find anything very glamorous, I’m afraid, but rootling through women’s drawers isn’t exactly my forte.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Thanks, Freddie, you’re a lifesaver.’ She turned back to the mirror. ‘Zip me up, will you?’

Freddie obliged, and Kate pulled a face as she surveyed the full horror. She turned to face him, kicking yards of raw silk out of her way.

‘I love weddings.’ Freddie threw himself belly-down on the bed and regarded her admiringly. ‘They’re so romantic.’

‘You wouldn’t think it was romantic if you had to wear this. Look at me – I look like a hot-air balloon!’

‘Well,’ Freddie said mischievously, ‘it does look as though there’s room for a few more on top – not to mention what you could hide under that skirt.’

‘I can’t hide anything under this skirt because Rachel will have a scout around under it to make sure I’m not wearing my trainers.’

‘Trainers!’ Freddie rolled his eyes.

‘I guess she didn’t count on me losing so much weight.’ Kate bunched up the material behind her so that the dress clung to her curves. It was a definite improvement.

‘You have lost a lot of weight, haven’t you? You look amazing – terrific tan too.’

‘Thanks – but I still look like a two-tonne Tessie in this dress.’

‘Come on, cheer up. Bit of slap, you’ll look fabulous. It’s just wedding jitters.’

‘I wouldn’t mind so much if bloody Will Sargent wasn’t going to be there when I walk down the aisle,’ Kate fretted. ‘Why did the best man have to be my worst nightmare?’

‘Oh dear.’ Freddie winced. ‘Still carrying a torch, are we?’

‘No. He’s like a brother to me, really.’

‘But wasn’t he your first?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, that wasn’t very brotherly of him, was it? Didn’t he shag you after some Trinity Ball?’

‘Yes, but don’t ever mention that around anyone else. No one else knows about it – not even Will, I think.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He was so pissed that night, I don’t think he even remembers it happened. He’s certainly never given any indication that he does.’

‘God! No wonder you were so screwed up about him.’

‘I just have a sort of revenge fantasy about him now. You know, I want him to see me looking absolutely stunning with the most beautiful, prestigious boyfriend.’

‘Ah, yes, that fantasy! But you do look stunning – and you have a boyfriend. You do still have a boyfriend, don’t you?’

‘Yes but he’s not going to be there.’

‘Brian isn’t coming?’ Freddie tried to keep the hope out of his voice.

‘No. Apparently he finds my family “overwhelming” en masse. Anyway, he’s doing a workshop thing, screaming to release your inner child or something.’

Freddie giggled. ‘Good at screaming, is he? I mean, you know – good enough to teach it?’

‘Shut up, Freddie, I’m not listening.’

‘Never mind,’ Freddie said. ‘You’ve still got me. Look, I’ll find a needle and thread and see what I can do about your dress.’

Kate smiled. ‘Thanks, Freddie, you’re an angel.’

‘But first things first. We could both do with a drink.’

‘There’s a whole kitchen full of champagne downstairs. And if there’s any grub left, grab it. I’m starving again. Maybe if I can eat enough sausage sandwiches between now and two o’clock this dress will actually fit me.’

* * *

‘Hello, Mrs O.’ Freddie greeted Kate’s mother as he met her on the stairs.