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“What now?” I huffed, glancing at my watch. “I haven’t got time. I’ve got to finish this, then go round to Louise’s. She wants to go over the final details of the wedding menu. But I’ll be home by…”
“No, Audrey,” he cut across me. “It’s important.”
I followed him into the living room complaining all the while, I’m going to be late, Louise has got an early start, can’t this wait until I get back? We sat on my oversized chocolate coloured sofa. He refilled our glasses with red wine, and, with a slightly trembling hand, passed one to me.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he began with a shaky voice. I knew in an instant what was wrong but I didn’t want to believe it. I tried to stay focused, positive, telling myself that it’s probably Ronan, he’s let him down, he needs to fly back to Dublin urgently and wants me to ask George to be his best man, or at least something equally fixable. When he dipped his head, my heart fell into my stomach. He’d been acting strange all week. I braced myself, I knew what was coming. “I just…I…it’s…”
“You don’t want to marry me, do you?” I said coldly, eyes fixed on our untouched wine glasses on the coffee table.
“No. I mean, yes.” He ran a hand over his unshaven face. “But… just not now. I’m not ready.” He stood up and began pacing the room, running his fingers irritably through his greasy hair as if he had some kind of infestation. I’d never seen him like this before, he looked drained, dishevelled and loaded with frustration. “I need more time,” he blasted, making me jump, “what’s the rush?” “Rush?”
I cried incredulously. “Rush? It’s been eight long years.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “How much time do you need, for heaven’s sake?”
“I dunno. I feel trapped, you’re all suffocating me.” He reached for his cigarettes in his shirt pocket, then, remembering I don’t like him smoking indoors, shoved them back in again angrily. “Why can’t we just postpone it for a while, hmm?” He clasped his hands at the back of his head, exhaling loudly. “Say about six months or so.”
“You’re unbelievable.” I took a large gulp of wine then slammed the glass onto the coffee table, spilling some of the ruby liquid onto an invite that was meant for Louise’s mother-in-law. We’d had a last-minute cancellation from my uncle Jack in Scotland and there was a spare place. I picked up the invite, brushing the stain away with my thumb but it was too late. The wine had caused the paper to swell. A big, fat tear fell onto the card. Tears and wine. It was ruined now.
“You know I’m no good at all this, Audrey,” he complained, resting his hands across the wooden surround of the fireplace, his back to me. He’d spent hours restoring that fireplace when I first moved in, sanding it down, buffing it up before applying a thin varnish in meticulous soft strokes. Who’d have thought that a few years on he’d be using it as a prop to leave me? “It’s all happening too fast,” he snapped. “If you’d just…” And then the penny dropped.
“There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
“What?” He spun round, face ashen.
“You’ve met someone else.” I cupped my hands over my mouth, my stomach clenched. “Oh my God, how could I have been so stupid? The signs were all there. Who is she? Do I know her? Is it someone you met through work, or –” I was blabbering but I couldn’t seem to stop myself, and I didn’t really care.
“For God’s sake, Audrey, stop it,” he cut in loudly, “there’s no one else. I can barely keep up with you let alone have an affair. Besides, I’d never do that to you, you know that.”
“Promise me,” I demanded, wiping my snotty nose with the cuff of my sleeve, inhaling the teary phlegm. “Swear there’s no one else.”
“Okay, okay,” he said finally, “I swear on my mother’s grave.” I knew then that he was telling me the truth. He adored Coleen. But if there wasn’t anyone else, what was it then? Why the sudden change of heart?
“Why, then, Nick?” Silence. “Come on, you owe me that at least.”
“I just don’t feel ready for marriage,” he replied, but he couldn’t even look at me. Then, for the briefest of moments he seemed to come to his senses and I felt a sliver of hope. “Oh God, what the hell am I doing? Look, Audrey.” He took a lungful of breath and exhaled loudly. “I love you so, so much. You’re my world.” I looked up at him then. This was a blip, a meltdown, last minute nerves; everything was going to be fine. A trickle of confidence danced in my chest. “But…well, if I’m honest, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for marriage.” I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I felt like I was on a carousel, that my life was spinning, spinning, spinning out of control.
“And you couldn’t tell me this months ago, hmm?” I rose to my feet. He looked at me wordless, face dark with remorse. “Before I ordered my dress.” I tapped the invite lightly on the palm of my hand as I slowly walked towards him, “Before I booked the venue, perhaps?” I pointed the card at him as if it were a loaded gun. “Before I sent out all the bloody invitations!” I screamed. I flicked the card across the room, missing him by inches as he ducked out of the way.
“You seemed so excited,” he said in a quiet voice, startled by my outburst. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“And what the hell do you think you’re doing now, Nick? You’re breaking my heart.”
He took a few hurried steps towards me. “I don’t want to lose you, Audrey. If we could just…”
“No fucking way,” I cut in, raising my hand to silence him, “no rescheduling, no postponing.” I’d waited years for Nick to agree to this marriage, spent endless hours organising our wedding day, making sure that everything was perfect - from the buttonholes to the honeymoon, the bridesmaids dresses to the cars. And although like any other excited bride-to-be, I was walking on cloud nine, I also felt completely shattered. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to persuade me to come round to his way of thinking, not this time.
“It’s now or never,” I said gravely, wiping my cold tears with my fingers, willing him to change his mind. The deafening silence that hung between us for those few decisive moments was unbearable. I can still hear the wail of a police siren in the distance as I collapsed onto the sofa, wrapping my arms around my quivering body, gulping back the tears. Swallowing hard, I looked up at him. “So, what’s it to be, then?” Blue and yellow lights flashed through the window, demanding our attention. The blaring sound of the siren screamed in my ears, louder and louder before drowning into the night.
“I can’t do this,” he confessed. I closed my eyes and covered my ears, blocking out his words as he rambled on and on with pathetic excuses. I couldn’t believe what was happening. That this was the end. Questions flapped around in my mind - what was I going to tell everyone? How would I cope without him? Was this it for me now? Would I end up a spinster surrounded by a thousand cats in a six-bedroomed house? I’d put my heart and soul into this relationship, eight years of my life, and in a flicker it was over.
“You’re going to regret this, Nick, think carefully about what you’re doing,” I pleaded, feeling pathetic.
With his hands loosely on his hips, he stared at the wooden floor, a solitary tear trickled down his face. “You deserve better,” he murmured, “I’m sorry.”
* * *
Pushing my trolley through the sliding doors of Heathrow Airport’s arrivals always gives me a bit of an adrenaline rush; makes me feel as if I’m some kind of celebrity. Perhaps it’s the barriers that section off the area that do it, and the crowds of people hanging over them with eager, excited expressions. I scan their faces quickly, looking for George.
“Audrey!” George’s voice bellows through the arrivals lounge, my eyes flit from face to face as I search for him in the crowd. “Over here!” There’s a loud whistle and then I spot him bouncing in the background, arms outstretched above a line of taxi drivers with blank faces, notice boards in hands. I rush through the barriers. We hug tightly like long lost relatives reunited by Holly Willoughby in an episode of Surprise Surprise; I’ve missed him.
