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‘I’m sure you have. My son’s never shied away from commitment or hard work, but he says he couldn’t have done it without you.’ Susan gave Matt a soft smile. ‘Let’s hope everything goes smoothly on the day.’
Leah snorted. ‘Hardly likely when the two families can’t even agree on what suits to wear.’
Beth felt a rush of heat hit her cheeks. ‘I’m hoping my dad will see reason and change his mind,’ she said, ashamed that her father was causing such grief.
‘And I hope my dad gets refused early release and doesn’t show up at the wedding.’ Leah took another bite of KitKat. ‘But we don’t always get what we want, do we?’
Beth felt Matt stiffen next to her, his whole body tensing like he’d been tasered.
Beth was confused. ‘Early release?’
‘Let’s head outside.’ Matt ushered them from the room. ‘It’s daft to be stuck inside on such a nice day.’
Beth followed him over to the door. ‘I didn’t realise your dad might be coming to the wedding,’ she whispered, aware of the sudden tension. ‘He wasn’t on Zac’s list of invites.’
Matt shook his head, his brow furrowed. ‘He won’t be.’
‘Are you sure we don’t need to add him to the top table?’ It suddenly occurred to her that he’d barely mentioned his dad during their conversations. He’d only ever talked about his mum and sister, and the awkward situation with his half-brother. Was this the cause of the tension, she wondered?
Matt rubbed his eyes, as if trying to block something out.
Then his mother appeared and placed a hand on Beth’s arm. ‘My husband’s currently in prison,’ she said, squaring her shoulders as if braced for the fallout. ‘I’m sorry if you didn’t realise that.’
Prison?Beth was too dumbfounded to react.
She looked at Leah, who shrugged as if to say, ‘Whatever’.
Beth turned to Matt, whose eyes were forlorn and downcast. ‘You never mentioned that.’
Matt shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t.’
A horrible silence followed.
‘Apologies for keeping you in the dark, my dear.’ Susan’s assertive tone was a contrast to the shake in her hands. ‘My husband’s serving ten years for manslaughter.’
Bloody hell.
It was times like this when Beth wished she possessed her sister’s acting talents. Deep inside, she knew the kindest response would be to act as though it wasn’t a big deal. All families had their dramas, right? Hers included – although maybe nothing quite so dramatic as being banged up, the Megan issue aside. But unfortunately, her open-mouthed shocked expression ruined any attempts at nonchalance, and all she could manage was a feeble, ‘Oh.’
Oh, indeed.
And then she was hit by a horrible sinking feeling.
It seemed she didn’t know Matt quite as well as she’d thought.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday, 7thJune – 2 days till the wedding
Matt sucked in a breath and reminded himself that in forty-eight hours’ time this would all be over and he’d be back home in Surrey, beer in hand, watching a film, knowing he’d never have to suffer any of this crap again. It was the only thing keeping him going.
The breeze picked up, flapping the flags on their poles as the wind rolled in from Bodmin Moor. It was an overcast day, not the best weather to be outside trying to control bunches of golden balloons that tugged on their decorative strings, eager to escape and disappear into the Cornish sky.
‘Bloody hell,’ moaned Beth, as she frantically tried to flatten the roll of thin red carpet, laid down for the bride and groom’s arrival at the Jamaica Inn. No sooner had she secured one end, than the other side lifted and rolled towards her. ‘You could help,’ she snapped, searching for stones large enough to weigh down the edges.
‘You instructed me to hold these balloons. I can’t do both,’ he snapped back.
In truth, he was as grumpy as she was. The stress of planning the damned wedding, coupled with the strained atmosphere between them which had yet to thaw, had resulted in a frosty greeting this morning. It was hardly his fault his dad was in jail, was it?
