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‘A beautiful bouquet for a beautiful bride,’ Lilian said, handing me an elaborate lump of hydrangeas which weighed a tonne. The cab drove off with them smiling and waving, leaving me, Dad and Jeff in silence.
‘Time to get this party started,’ I said as Jeff opened the car door and took my hand to help me in. I passed him my enormous bouquet and slid into the back seat where Dad met me from the other side.
‘Do you want this on your lap?’ Jeff asked, his face covered in flowers.
‘Er… not just yet. Can it go in the front?’
Jeff strapped the bouquet into the front seat like a third passenger, and the four of us set off for the church.
Six
The wedding. 9th September
I knew something was wrong as soon as the car pulled up. Mum and Lilian were caught in a tense exchange, the priest was checking his watch and Abi ran over as soon as we arrived. Dad wound down the window and she poked her head in.
‘Nothing to worry about, but George is running a few minutes late,’ she said.
The car clock glowed 12.05 p.m.I was running a few minutes late.George was running overtwenty minuteslate. Why wasn’t he at the church?
‘No problem,’ Jeff nodded, ‘I’ll drive round the block and be back in ten.’
‘Actually Jeff, itisa little bit of a problem. How long is he going to be?’ I asked, my heart in my throat. ‘Why is he late? Is Andy there? What’s going on?’ Andy was his best man.
‘I think he’s been trying to get hold of you,’ Abi said, giving me an eye.
‘Who has? Andy?’ I said, thinking back to my phone, which was switched off and in my bedside drawer.
Mum and Lilian appeared either side of Abi.
‘Darling, have you heard from him?’ Mum asked.
‘I don’t know why you’re panicking, Annabel,’ Lilian said, ‘I’m certain he’ll be here any second now.’
‘I’ll thank you to keep out of it and let me speak withmy daughterin private,’ Mum replied, murderous.
‘Jeff, let’s do another loop,’ Dad shouted from the back.
‘Is your bouquet OK in the front like that Holly?’ Lilian asked. ‘It looks a little… hunched?’
‘Bouquet? Dead body more like,’ Mum said, completely losing it, as Jeff pulled out into the traffic. Where the fucking-fuck was George?
‘Have you got your phone, Dad?’ I asked, feeling sick.
‘Yes, but it’s bad luck for the bride to see or speak to the groom before you get to the altar. You know that.’
‘It’ll be worse luck if we don’t get that far,’ I said, taking his phone and punching George’s number in. It rang out over and over and eventually clicked into voicemail.
‘George? It’s me, where are you? What’s going on? Call me back on Dad’s phone. We’re stuck in traffic, driving a slow loop around the church.’
‘Don’t you worry love, there’s always something that comes up on a wedding day,’ Jeff said with a chuckle. ‘When I married Marjorie, the wedding car didn’t turn up and she was half an hour late. I was worried to death that she was standing me up.’
‘I’ll kill the little bastard if he makes a show of you today,’ Dad said in stark contrast.
Surely not. I racked my brains for any clues from our conversation last night. Andy had just arrived from Liverpool and the ushers were all in London and heading out for dinner. What had we said to each other? They were going for acurryand somebeersand he loved me and couldn’t wait to see me at the altar blah blah blah. Oh God, maybe he’d had an accident? Maybe he was in a hospital somewhere with Andy. Or the boys had sellotaped him to a post-box for a laugh and he was powerless to do anything. Naked and stuck tight.
Dad’s phone pinged.
Mum:He’s here.
