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The vicar was twittering in a confused way, his nose wrinkling like a mouse in the orbit of Stinking Bishop.
‘Sorry, folks, there will be no wedding today,’ announced Shay. She stared at her boy, her thin, pale beautiful boy. ‘I know what she’s done to you, Sunny. You come home to your family.’
Angela rose from her pew. ‘Sit down’ she bellowed at Shay, as if she were a disobedient poodle.
‘Go swivel,’ replied Shay, the church-friendly version of the words on her tongue.
A mumble Mexican-waved around the church. To her blessed relief, Sunny took a step towards her, before Karoline grabbed his arm.
‘Where the fuck do you think you’re going?’ she said, dropping her sweet, smiley façade for a choice moment.
‘Touch my son again, bitch, and I’ll drop you where you stand,’ said Shay.
‘Ushers!’ called Angela, as if she were summoning the Household Cavalry.
Karoline hadn’t let go; Shay saw her enormous pink bridal talons digging into his arm.
‘Get your hands off my boy or I’ll tell everyone in this church what a vile, nasty, violent, twisted, manipulative, abusive piece of shit you are,’ threatened Shay, telling everyone in the church what a vile, nasty, violent, twisted, manipulative, abusive piece of shit Karoline was.
Sunny wrenched his sleeve away from Karoline’s grip. Together he and his mother started to head towards the church door when Karoline, with a cry worthy of theIncredible Hulk, launched herself at Shay, pushing her so hard in the back, she tumbled to the floor.
‘You wait and see what happens next,’ Karoline screamed, stabbing at them with her finger. ‘You’re dead, the lot of you.’
Then Courtney, who had been itching for such a moment, hit the red carpet.
‘No one messes with my family,’ she said, as she pulled back her fist and floored the bride with a right hook that informed anyone who knew anything about boxing, that Tommy Tanner’s gym really did churn out some talent.
Chapter 45
They’d spilled out into the brilliant sunshine, thrown themselves into the back of Mort’s van, and he’d driven them home while they sat on bags of cement and let their nerves climb down off the ceiling. It had to be right up there with Shay’s favourite taxi rides ever. She was shaking and adrenaline was masking the pain of a skinned knee and her stupidly expensive skirt had ripped irreparably, so had her ten quid tights, but it was a very small price to pay. More slugs and snails than sugar and spice, thought Shay of Karoline. Her mother’s intuition had been right on the money.
‘Someone want to tell me what all that was about?’ Courtney was nursing her knuckles. ‘Bloody hell, Karoline’s face is harder than it looks. She made of granite? Don’t answer that.’
‘You’ll probably get arrested,’ Mort said over his shoulder.
‘Bring it on,’ replied Courtney. ‘A million witnesses, including a vicar, will testify she made the first move, pushing an elderly woman to the floor. I had to lamp her, I had no choice.’
‘Elderly woman? I beg your pardon,’ replied Shay anddespite this awful situation, she laughed, even though she didn’t know where it had been dredged from. She still had laughter in her, she’d take that as a good sign.
Shay kept tight hold of her son’s hand; he looked shell-shocked. Karoline had moved the goalposts of his life to a new, abusive normal, just as Denny had learned to accept that what happened to him was standard. She’d been too young to save him, but she’d saved her son.
‘I wonder if they’ll still have the reception?’ Courtney mused then gasped with a sudden thought. ‘It was being videoed, wasn’t it? Oh my god, I have to get hold of a copy. That’s going to get my followers up to a million on TikTok.’
‘It was an amazing right hook, I have to say,’ said Mort. ‘Your best yet. I’m proud of you, love.’
‘Please don’t encourage her, Mort,’ Shay implored him, but she didn’t put much effort into the rebuke.
‘Never mind about me; Mum, you were absolutely magnificent in there. That took some proper guts.’ Courtney grinned and gave Shay’s unharmed leg an affectionate tap with her fist. ‘You know, at this moment, I can’t tell you how honoured I am to be your daughter. I always wondered where I got it from.’
Shay didn’t ask what ‘it’ was, because she knew. But once you’d stood up to Glynn Duffy, everyone else was a piece of cake. Sometimes you just had to follow your heart, and sometimes you got it wrong and sometimes you got it right.
‘She is so going to cut the crotches out of your trousers, Sunny,’ said Courtney with a chuckle, grabbing his knee and giving it a sisterly squeeze.
‘Better a few trashed belongings than a trashed life,’ said Mort to that, sounding wise beyond his years. Shay hoped the insane pairing of her anarchic daughter and thiskind, solid boy worked out, but she wouldn’t be hovering like a worried helicopter, she’d leave them to it, let it take its course.
So far so good, because two months later, Mort and Courtney were going from strength to strength and their influences were rubbing off on each other, cross-pollinating like benign bees. His clothing had been updated and she was no longer the equivalent of a mad metronome but more measured in her temperament; they were shaping each other for the better.
Sunny had crumbled after the wedding that never was. He felt humiliated to have been abused by a woman, weak and embarrassed and it took the full might of his mum, his sister, a psychotherapist and the rallying of his pals to set him on the road to recovery, but his feet were firmly on it now. The old Sunny was once again visible through the clouds and they were all grateful for that.
