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That morning I’d woken up feeling so happy and excited and nervous, knowing I was a step closer to my big day. There was still so much to do: dresses to collect, the florist to contact, hair and make-up appointments to confirm, legs to wax, last-minute honeymoon shopping for bikini no. 4 just to be on the safe side and dozens of other calls to make, but now all I had running through my head was Sophie’s plaintive it’s not fair.
What wasn’t fair?
A sense of doom lodged in my heart and I had a feeling it had no intention of moving out anytime soon. I took another glug of water, a steadying breath and taking the stairs two at a time raced back up to the bedroom.
Grabbing the diary, my eyes devoured the words on the first page that fell open.
Friday 16 February
What an amazing day! We went to the park and walked round the lake holding hands like a proper couple and it all felt so normal and lovely. And we didn’t talk about the ‘situation’ because he told me not to and I knew it would only end in a row and I didn’t want that to happen, not today. I just wanted it to be special. And it was! We came back and fell into bed and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon. God, he makes me laugh that man! It just feels so right when we’re together, as though we were made for one another. And the sex is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I can never imagine tiring of his firm, hard body and those sweet, insistent kisses of his make my toes curl in delight. He’s always so hungry for me and it just makes me feel so wonderful and beautiful. Like a goddess! Aargh, he takes me to heights I didn’t think possible.
Oh, well, that made perfect sense. Relief seeped out through my shoulders. A man! It would have to be a man. A sex god to boot. Typical! My fingers fast forwarded a couple of pages.
Monday 19 February
The bastard! I can’t believe it! He called round today and told me it was over. WTF! After last week as well, when I thought we’d reached a new understanding and intimacy. We can’t carry on because it isn’t fair on me (!) and as much as he adores me there isn’t anything else he has to offer. Funny how he’s suddenly developed a conscience. Gave me a load of crap about how it was only ever meant to be a bit of fun and falling in love wasn’t part of the plan. But it’s a bit too late for that now! I love him more than any man I’ve ever loved and I know he loves me too. I told him I was prepared to wait, but he said ‘No’, he couldn’t do it any more. And then he told me straight – he was never going to leave her and I’ve got to get used to the idea – we have no future together. My heart is breaking. Not sure how I’ll ever get over this.
Oh God, poor Sophie. A broken heart explained everything. The loss of weight, all that mooning around, her lack of interest in anything bridal. No wonder she was dreading the wedding. Clearly she’d got herself involved with some toerag, a married toerag at that, and he was giving her the run-around. And all this time she’s been keeping this huge secret to herself so as not to burden me in the run-up to my special day. That was just like Sophie, thinking of others first. What a sweetheart! Probably all the talk of marriage and lifelong commitment had brought home to her just what she was missing out on.
Of course it seemed unfair. I had my Happy Ever After to look forward to, but what did Sophie have? A bit of afternoon delight when it suited her fancy man. And however good he was in the sack, it couldn’t be worth all the sneaking around, the lies and the hurt. She probably felt miserable that she couldn’t bring him along to the wedding. That she couldn’t show off her new man to all her friends, but no doubt he went running back to wifey at the weekends. And now, despite all his promises, he’d dumped her for good. But for goodness’ sake, what was she doing with a married man in the first place? Wasn’t that regulation No. 1 of the girls’ club – no married men?
Had I really been so preoccupied with the wedding that Sophie had felt unable to confide in me? I stretched out my arms behind me, my hands resting on my best friend’s bed as I looked for answers in the Artex ceiling.
I cursed inwardly. If only I’d picked up on the signs earlier and had the chance to sit down with Sophie and counsel her on the futility of dating a married guy then I might just have been able to make her see sense and all this heartbreak could have been avoided. Okay, I’d been manic busy these last few months, but never too busy to listen to Sophie’s problems. We’d always been there for each other and now I felt absolutely dreadful! Like the worst friend in the world. In all my bubbling excitement for the big day I’d completely neglected my friend’s needs.
I would have to talk to Sophie, coax it out of her, hold her hand while she told me all the gory details about this man and their torrid love affair. And then, being the good friend I’d failed to be lately, I’d make it up to her by seeing her through these next few weeks (barring the honeymoon, of course, although I would make an effort to counsel her by text). Yes, I’d help her get the no-good scumbag out of her system once and for all.
The diary felt heavy in my hands. I really ought to get on and make some of those phone calls, but now I knew about Sophie’s troubles I had a moral responsibility to make sure she was okay. She’d sounded completely and utterly distraught in that last entry and unrequited love can do funny things to you, can tip you over the edge. I didn’t want Sophie to do anything stupid.
I just needed to check. Make sure she was absolutely okay.
Tuesday 12 March
Mmmm, mmm. Only twenty minutes today, but when they are the most exciting moments of my week, what does it matter!? No, scrub that, the most exciting moments of the last month, the last year, my entire lifetime! My insides are still zinging with excitement and my legs, oh God, I’m not sure they can even function any more. They’re all wobbly, a bit like my heart. Xx
Oh good grief, Sophie! What’s happened? One minute it’s off, the next it’s on. What on earth are you doing? Why, why, why? You’re such a glutton for punishment. (What exactly is the guy doing to you to turn your legs to jelly?)
Hurriedly, I ran my fingers back through the pages.
Friday 9March
I knew it! He turned up on the doorstep looking dreadful, really awful, standing there with dark rings around his eyes and I just couldn’t turn him away. All my anger and disappointment disappeared at the sight of him and all I felt was complete relief that he was back again. I’m sure my heart literally swooned. We fell into each other’s arms and oh, he made soft, sweet love to me and it was as if we’d never been apart. I’m not sure what it means for us, what we’ll do, but none of that matters now. All that matters is that he’s back.
Why did you have to fall for it, Sophie? I punched my clenched fist down on the bed in frustration. He turns up on the doorstep with puppy-dog eyes and in an instant you’re eating out of his hand again! This wasn’t the Sophie I knew; the independent, vivacious, self-assured woman who wouldn’t take crap from any man. What was she doing putting her life on hold for the sake of a two-timing rat? It was obviously why Sophie hadn’t been able to confide in me. She probably felt ashamed that she’d got herself in so deep and knew that I’d give it to her straight, tell her she was acting like a complete and utter fool and the sooner she got the creep out of her life the better.
Thursday 15 March
He bought me a present! A solid silver trinket box in the shape of a butterfly. He knows how much I love butterflies. It’s so beautiful and I’ve put it on my bedside cabinet where I can see it. I’ve doused it with his aftershave as well just to have his delicious scent around me. Every time I look at it I’m reminded of him, although that’s not difficult because I think about him every single moment of the day. I just can’t get him out of my head and all I’m doing is counting down the minutes until I can get to see him again, although Lord knows when that will be now!!! Oh God, I don’t know how I’ll get through these next few weeks. He said he’s got to lie low, he’s got too much on and it’s far too risky for us to meet, but when it’s all over then we can pick up where we left off, that’s if I want to. If I want to!? NO!! I don’t want to. Doesn’t he get it? I don’t want to be someone he picks up and drops off just when he wants to. But what can I do? The alternative is far too horrible to even contemplate. Those weeks without him were the worst time of my life. I can’t live like this and yet I can’t live without him. I love him too much. I want this whole horrible situation to end. I don’t know why he can’t just come to his senses and call the whole thing off…
It was like picking up the final piece of the jigsaw but still being unable to fit it into the picture. I leant over and picked up the butterfly box, my fingers tracing over the intricate design. I pulled off the lid and raised the trinket to my nose, that familiar scent sending a stabbing pain to my chest, my stomach into free fall and bile rising at the back of my throat. My breath came in heavy, laboured motions. For a moment, I thought I might actually forget how to breathe. That I might stop doing that whole breathing thing, there on the bed.
He can’t really love her. Not if he can’t give me up. I just don’t understand it. It won’t last, I know it won’t. But he insists on going through with it. My only hope now is that she gets run over by a bus or that she has a sudden blow to the head and decides that she wants to join a nunnery. Or maybe she’s struck by Cupid and meets her soul mate who’ll whisk her off into the sunset. Sigh. To be honest, the nunnery is looking like my best option. Whichever. I’ll be waiting for him at the other side. However long it takes.
Furiously I hurled the silver box across the room, the lid parting company with the base and ricocheting off the wall, before spinning onto the carpet. I took a deep breath and returned the diary to its spot on the cabinet, before standing up, my legs wobbly like Sophie’s had been, but for entirely different reasons. My breathing laboured, I leant down and picked up the silver box, reuniting it with its lid, the familiar scent making me retch. I replaced it very carefully next to the diary.
Chapter Two (#uf2c26a5c-f92b-533e-8008-62d7821e52be)
Somehow, despite my wobbly legs, I made it downstairs, ignoring the palpitations in my chest and the ringing in my ears until I realised that what I thought were brain cells playing Space Invaders in my head was actually a phone. Somewhere. Outside of my head, demanding attention.
I snatched up the handset, only registering at the last moment that I wasn’t sure if my mouth still worked. What if it was Sophie or, worse still, Ed? What words were there?
‘Hello?’
‘Oh hi, Anna, it’s Louise Bailey here.’ The woman chirruped, actually chirruped, like an annoying little bird.
‘Sorry?’
‘Louise Bailey from St Michael’s Manor. How are you?’ What did she have to sound so goddam happy about? Chirrup, chirrup, chirrup. ‘Not long to go now. You must be so excited?’
‘What? Oh yes.’ The slow realisation of who this annoying woman was spread through my veins as my mouth operated on auto-pilot.
‘I just wanted to confirm the final numbers for Saturday. I think we’d pencilled in three hundred.’
Oh shit. Oh bum. Oh bust.
I scrabbled for the ‘folder’, flipped open the cover and looked at the papers clipped to the front. A lifetime’s work. Well, not really, but at that moment it seemed that way. Eighteen months’ work, at the very least. The list of names ran over three pages, some had ticks against them, others had been scratched out and at the top I’d circled the magic number in red.
‘Two hundred and eighty-two,’ I said more to myself than to the tweetering bird on the other end of the phone.
‘Two … hundred … and … eighty … two,’ repeated Birdie, as though she was announcing the winner of the Golden Globe. ‘That’s fabulous. Well, just to reassure you that everything is in hand at this end. We are very much looking forward to welcoming you and Ed to the Manor this weekend and making sure your special day is as wonderful and memorable as it can possibly be. Now, if there’s anything else you need, any worries you might have, then just feel free to ask. We are here to help.’
‘Help?’
‘Yes. If there’s anything, absolutely anything, then you only need ask.’
I thought about it. She was so frigging organised and efficient. She probably had a section in her wedding bible for ‘dealing with cheating intendeds’. A master plan for such eventualities, but I had a feeling I was way beyond anyone’s help now.
‘The doorbell,’ I heard myself say.
‘Sorry?’
‘The doorbell. It’s ringing. I need to go.’
‘Oh right, yes, of course,’ Birdie said, losing some of her tweet. ‘I’ll let you go. And we’ll look forward to seeing you at the weekend.’
I put down the phone with a sigh, deciding to ignore the doorbell, but not knowing what, if anything, I could do beyond that. My whole body had gone into an elaborate non-functioning state. I should have been crying or screaming or throwing even more things across the room, but I had neither the energy nor the inclination to do any of those things. Instead, I keeled over on to the sofa, arms wide, sacrificing myself to the wedding God.
Only half an hour ago, my life had been perfect. My future mapped out like a Cath Kidston photo collage, full of impossibly cheerful moments in a perpetually sunny, floral vista. And now – well, it wasn’t.
‘Open the bloody door.’ A muffled voice wafted down the hallway.
I jumped up in my seat, fear racing through my body. I slipped the backs of my hands beneath my knees, bit on my lip and held my body tight with tension, hoping if I stayed like that for any length of time the annoying person ringing my bell would get the message and leave. Then I might think about breathing again. And decide what the hell I was going to do next.
‘Anna, I know you’re in there. Come on, open up. I need a coffee and a piss. Hurry up.’
Ben! After Ed and Sophie, he was possibly the last person in the world I wanted to see.
‘Ben!’ I wailed, putting on my most sickly, leave-me-alone, I-really-am- dying voice. ‘I’m on the sofa. Feeling rough. Really rough. Sickness, diarrhoea. Virulent and catching. Sorry! I can’t … I can’t … I’ll call you.’
‘Open the door, Anna.’
Aaargh, God. I prised myself off the sofa with a huge effort, my body suddenly taking on super-heavyweight proportions and lumbered towards the door.
‘You took your time.’ Ben breezed into the flat, looking like he just wandered in off a Boden menswear shoot. In fawn-coloured cargo shorts and hot-pink polo shirt, the collar popped, he cast his gaze over me, scratching his head distractedly. ‘Christ, you look rough. What’s up?’
‘Ill. Very ill.’ I braved a glance at his concerned expression and immediately wished I hadn’t. Ben represented everything that was familiar and reassuring in my life, only now he’d taken on an altogether different appearance. I’d known him for ever, or for what seemed like for ever, ever since we’d started senior school. It seemed only natural when we ended up at the same university too. We shared everything together, all those angst-ridden teenage traumas, all the highs and lows. I’d seen him through his break-ups with various highly unsuitable girls, and he’d seen me through all the boys I’d just been practising on before I met Ed. And then when I met Ed, everything fell into place and Ben seemed to like Ed, almost as much as I did. So much so that their bromance developed to such an extent that Ed asked Ben to be his best man. That had to be a good omen, didn’t it? But now, uncovering the secrets of that wretched diary, our merry little band was about to be blown into tiny smithereens.
‘You need to go,’ I said, clutching my stomach as though I might just die. ‘You might catch it.’
‘What? And leave you like this? No way. I’ll take my chances, thanks. Let me make you a cup of tea. It’s probably all the stress of the wedding finally catching up with you. Hey, I’d be throwing up all the time too if I knew I was getting married at the weekend. Back in a mo!’ he said, dashing off to the bathroom.
I jumped up, fired by an urgency to do something, anything, but most importantly to get Ben out of the flat. And me too, I decided, in that instant. I needed to get out of the claustrophobic confines of this God-awful place .
Just being here was suffocating me. I couldn’t be here when Sophie came back or if Ed turned up. Although that looked unlikely. They were probably holed up somewhere together, shagging each other senseless.
‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Ben was back, standing in the doorway, brandishing a mug of tea in his hand.
‘I’m just going to pack up a couple of bits, that’s all. I need to get away for a few days. Take a bit of a break.’
‘Whoa, whoa, whoa.’ He put the mug down on the coffee table and dashed over to where I was rooting through my handbag. ‘What’s this all about?’
‘It’s nothing.’ My whole body prickled with suppressed emotion. When he took hold of my arms, gazing deep into my eyes, I knew I couldn’t hold it together a moment longer. Tears rushed down my cheeks, short, shuddering breaths escaping my mouth. Ben peered closer, but I pushed him away, grabbing my bag.
‘Leave it, Ben. Don’t worry. I have to go. Please don’t say anything to Ed, will you?’
‘What? No. I won’t. But I’m not letting you go anywhere. You’re ill.’ He tilted his head, peering into my eyes. ‘You are ill, aren’t you? Or is there something else that you’re not telling me about? Come on, Anna, what’s going on?’ The tenderness in his voice broke what was left of my heart into smithereens. He put an arm around my waist pulling me into his side, my breathing still ragged. He mopped away my tears with the back of his thumb, tidying away the stray strands of my newly highlighted blonde hair behind my ears.
‘As your husband-to-be’s best man, I would be failing in my duty if I didn’t make sure you were okay. I can’t let you just wander off days before the wedding without telling anyone where you’re going. Besides, I’m guessing it’s only natural to get cold feet. If that’s what this is all about? Are you feeling a bit overwhelmed by the whole occasion? I must admit, I’m feeling overwhelmed and I’m not the one getting married!’ He gave a rueful shrug. ‘You’ve been rushing around like a maniac these last few weeks; it’s bound to catch up with you. Look at you,’ he said, doing a secondary mopping up on the tears, ‘you’re completely wrung out.’
‘Oh God, Ben, it’s awful, really awful.’ I dropped the bag to the floor, along with the last vestiges of energy, my shoulders slumping in defeat. ‘I don’t even know if there is going to be a wedding now.’
‘Shit, no.’ He took a step backwards, his gaze scanning my face. ‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘Do I look as though I’m kidding?’ I sniffed, my whole body shuddering at the effort involved. ‘No, Ben. It looks as though Ed, my wonderful husband-to-be, has been screwing Sophie, my so-called best friend. There! Now do you think I’m kidding?’
His eyes closed as he exhaled a deep and heavy breath.
‘How do you know?’
‘How do I know? I’ve just read it in her diary, that’s how I know.’
He reeled backwards, his eyes now wide.
‘You read Sophie’s diary?’
‘That is not the point, Ben. That is so not the point. The point is that my fiancé and my best friend have been sleeping with each other behind my back and my whole world has collapsed like a failed soufflé.
‘I’m supposed to be getting married on Saturday, a day that has been planned with military precision to ensure that not a single piece of confetti will be out of place. I have two hundred and eight-two people turning up, hundreds of canapés being prepared probably as we speak, feathered butterflies and rose petals being drafted in by the lorry load and a whole bloody team of experts on stand-by to make sure my big day is as fabulously wonderful as one day can possibly be.
‘That is the point, Ben. That is the real point. And my mum!’ I screamed, as if I’d only just remembered I had one. Pain stabbed at my chest and I looked down just to check someone wasn’t stabbing knitting needles into my heart. I dropped my head into my hands, not knowing how I would ever face her again.
‘Oh no! She’ll be absolutely devastated. She’s been looking forward to this day ever since … well, ever since she put me into that first pink Babygro! And you’ll never know the lengths we’ve been to to find her bloody dress and hat. We’ve been in every boutique in the country looking for just the right shade of aquamarine. It’ll break her heart if she doesn’t get the chance to wear it. And all our family and friends! She’ll be mortified if she has to tell them the wedding is cancelled.’
‘Hey. You’re talking as if it’s all over. You don’t know that yet. You can’t make any decisions until you’ve talked to Ed. Have you spoken to him?’
‘No.’ I bit on my lip, my foot tapping away at the floor as though it didn’t actually belong to me. ‘I have no desire to speak to Ed. Ever again. Ever.’ Just in case Ben was in any doubt whatsoever. I pushed back my cuticles with a thumbnail, turning my gaze on him. ‘What did you mean how do I know?’
‘Sorry?’ I saw the flicker of panic in his eyes, the shift of his jaw.
‘When I told you about Ed and Sophie, you said, “How do you know?” Not, “Jesus, Anna, you’ve got that wrong. You must be mistaken. Ed would never do that to you.” You said, “How do you know?”, as though you knew all along. Did you?’
He dropped his gaze, literally squirming on the spot.
‘Did you know, Ben?’
‘Look, Anna—’
‘Fucking hell! You did know! The three people in the world who are my closest friends, who I thought would never do anything to hurt me, have all been lying to me, laughing at me behind my back. Have you any idea how that feels? I don’t understand, Ben. I just don’t understand it. You’re supposed to be my friend!’
‘It wasn’t like that, Anna.’ He grabbed hold of me by the shoulders and I pushed him away, both hands on his chest, feeling my face flaring. ‘I only just found out this week. I promise you. No one’s been laughing behind your back. Especially not me.’
I sniffed back the tears and ran upstairs, scooping up my toothbrush, knickers, jeans and T-shirts and came running back downstairs again, stuffing the contents of my arms into a holdall. Ben circled me, giving me a wide berth as though I was a highly dangerous animal, which at that moment I probably was. His hands twitched to reach out to me, but my body prickled with ‘don’t come anywhere near me’ vibes. I still couldn’t believe he’d been in on all of this.
‘Ed told me the other day. I think he was desperate to get it off his chest, to get all this cleared and out of the way before the wedding. Hell, I was as shocked as you are now. I can’t believe what an idiot he’s been. I told him he had to tell you or else I would. That’s why I came here today. To see if you knew. . You shouldn’t have found out this way.’
We both fell silent for a moment, eyeing each other warily.
‘But honestly, Anna, you need to speak to him, hear what he has to say. I’m not defending him, I promise, but I do know Ed loves you more than anything else in this world. He’s in a hell of state over all this. He got in way too deep and didn’t know how to get out of it. Marrying you, making you his wife, it’s absolutely the most important thing to him.’
‘Ha, well, he has a funny way of showing it,’ I said, picking up my keys from the coffee table, jingling them in my hands and looking around the flat where I’d shared so many happy times with Sophie. Things would never be the same between us again.
‘Wait, Anna! Where will you go?’
The question pulled me up short. I felt a pain deep in my chest and wondered briefly if I was having a heart attack. Then the pain took over and my body gave way beneath me as I fell onto the sofa, huge gulping sobs wracking my body.
‘I don’t know,’ I gulped through the tears. ‘There isn’t anywhere I can go.’ I thought of my parents sitting in their lovely home, looking forward excitedly to the wedding of their only daughter, completely oblivious to the fact that all their hard work and planning had just gone up in a puff of smoke. I imagined my mum’s crestfallen face when I told her what Ed had done. ‘I can’t tell Mum, not yet. It will kill her. No, I need to get my head straight,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘Work out what I’m going to do. Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Especially not Ed or Sophie. Please don’t tell them I know, not yet.’
‘Yeah, but …’ He scrunched up his face and lowered his voice, as if he hardly dared to utter the words hovering on his tongue. ‘I hate to say this, Anna, but you haven’t got a lot of time. You’re getting married in a few days’ time. You can’t just bury your head in the sand and pretend none of this has happened. I mean, do you even still want to marry Ed?’
