Here I am, about to climb into the jeep that is going to take me to the church, on what should have been the happiest day of my life. Yet it feels like my most miserable day. I’ve still not heard from Mark and I have no idea whether he is going to be waiting for me by the altar.
Maybe I should have accepted drinks from my mother after all. Fearful of her drugging me up to the eyeballs, I’ve been making my own drinks all day. And even the champagne I drank, that would usually have had me giggling and giddy, made me feel sick.
‘You look beautiful,’ says Ted.
‘Thank you.’
In all my fantasies this is the bit where I would twirl round and milk the compliments as, after all, this day is all about me, but I can’t. I know I look pretty good. My sister has done an amazing job with my make-up. She’s even managed to hide my red eyes that looked so puffy and swollen when I got up it was as if I’d gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Lou has pinned my hair up in a side bun with a plain hair clip that she bought in John Lewis and decorated herself with diamantes and pearls.
‘You look like a young Sophia Loren,’ says Ted.
I smile as best as I can and I wonder just how I am going to get into the jeep in my dress. As if reading my mind, Ted pulls a kick step from the back seat. He places it down in front of me and takes my hand.
I hoist up my dress, which looks really classy, let me tell you, and I climb in. Ted has even covered the seats with tissue paper. I hope that he asked Cathy the curator before he stole it as it looks a lot like the expensive conservation type she uses.
I notice that he has even tied white wedding ribbon to the bonnet and the side mirrors. I remember that I need to make a wish when I see a wedding car and I close my eyes and make it. Now I can’t tell you what I wished for or it won’t come true, but I bet you might just be able to guess what it was.
‘Ready?’ says Ted.
‘As I’ll ever be.’
The jeep starts noisily and I cling on for dear life as it travels jerkily down the road. What should have been a fifteen-minute drive from our house seems to take a lot longer with the engine nearly conking out every time we stop at traffic lights.
By the time we make it to the church I don’t know whether I feel sick with nerves or whether it is the post-adrenalin rush of holding my breath every time Ted pulled out in front of a car at a dodgy junction. Which happened a lot.
Ted, ever the gentlemen, comes and helps me out of the jeep. Lou and my sister walk straight up to coo over the jeep. I keep forgetting that they didn’t know about it.
The funny thing is that everything about this wedding is so cool and everything seems to be going like clockwork except, that is, the groom.
‘Is he here?’ I ask Lou. My voice catches in my throat, almost like I don’t want to ask as I don’t want to hear the answer.
They don’t need to tell me the answer as it is written all over their faces.
‘Why don’t we go in and wait in the little waiting room? You’re a bit early, anyway.’
My father has walked up to us and I grab his wrist to check his watch before I even say hello. It is three o’clock on the button. Maybe Mark is working on the principle that I’ll be late and he’ll be here any minute.
I look around hopefully and all I see are some of my friends sneaking in late, giving me a thumbs up and a wave as they go into the church.
‘Come on,’ says Lou.
I let myself be dragged into the church.
‘Ah, Penelope,’ says Reverend Phillips. ‘Now then, Mark and Phil don’t appear to be here yet, so if you just come with me into the waiting room. I do hope that he is over his food poisoning.’
I can only imagine I gave Reverend Phillips a look which told him that the food poisoning was a lie. His whole expression changes and he suddenly looks like he is having a eureka moment.
‘Right, then. Well, in cases like this, we usually give them a bit of time. You’re the last wedding for the day so we can wait a while.’
The waiting room is just off the main church and I can hear the organ playing and I can also hear the whispers of the guests getting louder. People know that I’ve arrived; surely they know by now something is wrong as Mark isn’t at the altar waiting for me.
‘Can you see if Jane’s in there?’ I ask Lou after we’ve been waiting for about ten minutes. I am clutching at straws, but I hope that Jane might have some enlightening news from the boys’ camp.
The door to the waiting room opens and in comes Jane, followed closely by Lou. Lou rests up against the back of the door and takes a deep breath. It’s like she’s hiding from the paparazzi.
‘What’s going on?’ asks Jane. ‘I’ve been phoning Phil for the last half an hour and it keeps going straight to answerphone.’
‘I don’t think Mark’s coming,’ I say. ‘I was just hoping that you could get hold of Phil so that I knew once and for all, before I go and tell all the guests.’
I hear Lou gasp at that, but it’s true. Sooner or later someone is going to have to tell the guests that Mark isn’t coming and the wedding they are supposed to be here to see isn’t going to happen. For once I have to be realistic.
‘I’m sorry, Penny, his phone must be off.’
The look of pity on Jane’s face is enough to make my heart break. Will everyone look at me with such sympathy? Can I just sneak out the back door and let someone else tell people that the marriage isn’t going ahead?
‘Penelope, I think it might be a good idea if I give the guests a little update on what’s going on,’ says Reverend Phillips, walking into the waiting room. ‘It might be wise if people could have a stretch of their legs as we don’t know how long they’re going to be sitting down for, before we get started.’
‘He’s not coming,’ I whisper.
‘Sorry, dear,’ says Reverend Phillips. ‘You’ll have to shout a bit louder.’
‘I said Mark’s not coming. He’s clearly decided that he doesn’t want to marry me.’
I turn to Lou and she’s in floods of tears.
‘I’m sorry, Pen, it’s just so sad, and the pregnancy hormones just amplify it.’
Becky puts her arm round Lou to comfort her and she rubs my arm with the other hand.
‘Do you want me to do it, Penny love?’ asks Dad.
‘No. This is something I need to do. It’s my mess. I should at least have the guts to tell the truth.’
Reverend Phillips looks at me and then in a moment that touches my heart he takes my hand and leads me out of the room. It’s a good job that he’s got hold of me or else I’d probably fall flat on my face. My legs have gone limp and it feels like I am wading through treacle.
I can see everyone turn to me just like they have in my fantasies, but far from the gasps of doesn’t she look wonderful, they are all gasps of shock. No one is smiling and everyone is looking at me with pitying glances. It seems so awful that everyone knows what I am going to say and yet I still have to say it.
Reverend Phillips leads me to the altar and he lets go of my hand where I should have turned to meet my groom. There is no one there to turn to me and tell me I look beautiful and no one to squeeze my hand in reassurance.
I start to open my mouth but nothing audible comes out. Reverend Phillips points over to the lectern that has a microphone poised and I slowly walk towards it.
I cling on to the lectern until my knuckles go white and then I look up at the congregation. There is an eerie silence that under normal circumstances probably would have made me feel awkward and I would have giggled, but not now.
‘I want to say thank you all so much for coming. I know that you all came here to see me and Mark get married, but unfortunately I don’t think that’s going to happen.’
There is a collective intake of breath and I can see my aunt Dorian and even she looks shocked. At least she of all people should be pleased that now I definitely won’t upstage my cousin Dawn’s wedding.
‘Most of you probably know that I was planning this wedding along the same lines as Don’t Tell the Bride, only I wasn’t telling the groom. Please don’t think that this is all part of that and Mark has thrown a tantrum because he doesn’t like the suit or the hairstylist I got him.’
I am relieved that a couple of people chortle at my attempt at a joke; it relaxes me slightly. But it also relaxes me enough for a rogue tear to roll down my cheek.
‘But the truth is, I lied to Mark. I lost his trust and I guess I hoped that he’d be able to forgive me, but he obviously can’t. I’m sorry everyone, you’ve had a wasted trip.’
I know that is supposed to be the end of my speech but I can’t let go of the lectern; it is the only thing keeping me upright. I can’t move. The congregation don’t know what to do either. They are all looking at each other and then looking at me and it is like no one wants to move.
‘Mark’s not coming,’ I say finally into the microphone. It is the most painful thing I’ve ever said and now I understand what it means to be heartbroken, as my chest is burning in pain.
I look down at the floor, hoping someone will just take me away.
‘I am coming.’
I’ve really lost it now. I must be imagining things as I thought I heard Mark.
‘Wait, Penny.’
I look up and there he is. Standing there as bold as brass. In his wedding suit with his purple cravat tied in the most untidy knot. And his feet are in trainers. But even that doesn’t matter; all I care about is that he is here.
He’s here. I let go of the lectern and I’m about to rush towards him only everything seems to be spinning around me, and Reverend Phillips appears to have two heads.
‘Penny!’ shouts Mark.
I try to open my eyes as I wonder where the hell I am. I’m lying on what feels like the most uncomfortable floor.
‘Penny, are you OK?’
I can hear my mum calling me and she is shaking me gently. I can also hear Mark’s mum ordering someone to get me some water. I feel my head being lifted up and then laid down on what I can only imagine is a kneeling cushion. To be honest I think the floor was more comfortable.
I try and work out what is going on, but my mind is foggy. I try to remember what was happening. I was at the wedding and at the altar, and Mark was here. I open my eyes and through the blur I look for him.
‘Mark?’ I mutter.
‘Penny, love,’ says my mum. ‘She’s coming round, she’s coming round.’
My vision clears and I can suddenly see everyone around me. My mum, Mark’s mum, Reverend Phillips and Mark. Mark is here. For a minute I thought I’d imagined his arrival.
‘Don’t try and sit up, love,’ says my mum.
But it is useless. Mark is here and I have to talk to him. I start to reach forward but I am powerless to stop my mum pushing me back to the floor.
‘I’ll take care of this,’ says Mark.
And in a flash he’s bent down and picked me up, in true An Officer and a Gentlemen style. We go back down the aisle in a way I’d never pictured. Our friends and family look just as stunned as I feel at this turn of events.
Mark takes me into the little waiting room at the back of the church and then lowers me to my feet. I collapse almost straightaway into one of the chairs, my legs still unsteady.
‘Mark, you came. There’s so much I want to say to you.’
‘Take it easy. You just fainted. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.’
I can’t believe that he is standing in the room with me. All this week I’ve been desperate to see him, to tell him the truth. And now he’s here I feel like I’ve got mud in my brain as I just can’t seem to think straight.
‘I can’t believe I fainted.’
‘I guess it was a bit of a shock seeing me.’
Mark sits down in the chair next to me.
‘I didn’t think you were coming.’
I can feel myself crying and I don’t know whether they are tears of joy or just tears of confusion. Whatever they are, Mark is wiping them from my face.
‘Stop crying, you crazy lady.’
‘I can’t help it. I thought you weren’t going to come.’
‘So did I.’
‘Then why did you?’
Mark sighs. ‘Because Nan told me off.’
‘But how did she find you? I tried calling all the hotels and I couldn’t find a Mr Robinson.’
‘I checked in under Mr Holmes. What?’ he says, clearly looking at my puzzled expression. ‘I knew you’d try and stalk me as Mr Robinson. But anyway, Nanny Violet left me a voicemail that made it sound like she was in trouble. I thought she’d fallen. Of course, when I got to her house she ambushed me. She told me that she’d got it wrong, but I was still furious about the bank statements, the lies and the whole “don’t tell the groom” nonsense.’
I felt hot when I came round, but now I am burning even more with the shame.
‘I would have helped you, you know. I would have understood,’ says Mark.
‘I couldn’t see it then. I was so ashamed of what I’d done.’
‘Nan told me I had to watch the video too. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to know.’
So everyone else has seen this bloody video and Mark still hasn’t.
‘I texted Phil this morning as I didn’t know what to do and he came to my hotel room and he actually handcuffed me to the bedpost.’
I raise what I hope is a suggestive eyebrow.
‘Not like that. I was walking round the end of the bed and he grabbed my arm and attached me to the bedpost. He put his laptop on and played the video. As soon as I saw you, I couldn’t not watch you. You always make me watch you, whatever you’re doing.’
I can feel tears welling up again, but for completely different reasons. My heart is starting to beat faster.
‘Do you think you’ll be able to trust me again?’ I ask. There is just a little bit of me that is scared he’s only come to let me down gently.
He looks straight into my eyes as if he is looking into my soul for the answer. And then he kisses me on the lips, so suddenly and so sweetly that it makes me cry again.
‘Once we take those vows there will be no more secrets between us, OK?’
He said ‘take our vows’. Does that mean he still wants to marry me?
It is a good job that we have some privacy as I pull him into me and I kiss him in a way that probably isn’t appropriate for a church.
‘I’ll take it that’s a yes?’ says Mark, pulling away.
‘I promise, no more secrets,’ I say, doing a cheesy salute.
‘Not even shoes that you hide in the spare room?’
‘I promise.’
Now I may have my fingers crossed behind my back. I totally agree that we shouldn’t have big secrets between us any more, but he really doesn’t need to know about all the shoes I buy, now does he?
‘I guess we’d better get this show on the road,’ says Mark. ‘I’m sure everyone’s wondering what’s going on.’
‘I love you, Mark, more than anything in the world.’
‘More than Jimmy Choos, I see,’ he says, pointing to my shoes.
‘More than anything,’ I repeat.
He kisses the top of my head and he goes to walk out of the waiting room.
‘Wait,’ I say, pulling him towards me. ‘I just need to fix your cravat.’
I could forgive the trainers – they actually make him look cool, a bit Doctor Who. But the cravat really is a mess and Howard is going to take such wonderful photos, we don’t want it haunting us for years to come.
As I am fixing the cravat, Amy sneaks over and seamlessly fixes a purple rose to his buttonhole. She gives me a little wink and I scrunch up my eye, trying to wink back. I probably look like I am having an allergic reaction, but I think she gets the idea.
‘See you in a minute,’ says Mark, grinning at me before he turns to walk up the aisle.
I watch him hesitate. I follow his gaze and see that he is looking straight at Josh holding the video camera.
Mark starts to walk up to Josh and I am about to go and intervene when he stretches his hand out and Josh shakes it.
God, I love that man. Mark of course, not Josh.
My dad slips his arm around mine. ‘You ready, love?’
‘Yes. You know what? I’ve never been more ready in my life.’
The organ starts playing the wedding march and a feeling of light-headedness washes over me. And not because I’ve recently fainted. This is what I’ve been waiting for. All those years of planning in my head, all those hours of daydreaming and all the different ways I’d imagined this scene unfolding.
I’ll tell you one thing, my daydreams never included the dramatic lead-up to the wedding or my slightly tear-stained face. But it doesn’t matter that this isn’t the way I envisaged it would happen; it had finally hit me that that isn’t important. The fact that I am marrying the man of my dreams is all that matters.
I take a deep breath as I feel my father leading me forward. This is it. I am finally going to become Mrs Robinson. I doubt there has ever been a more contented bride than I am at this very moment.