Chapter 5

By ten twenty they were still waiting.

At ten twenty-five, Evie reached for her phone and called Kirsty’s number. “It’s gone straight to the answering service.”

Ray said helpfully, “That’s because she’s on a plane to Hong Kong.”

“Will you stop it?” Bonnie gave him a playful swipe with the Radio Times. “Darling, it’s all right.” She turned to Evie. “It means she can’t answer because she’s in the car on the way here.”

Bonnie’s voice was so lovely and soothing. Evie forced herself to relax. But surely if Kirsty was held up in traffic she could make a quick call to let them know?

At ten thirty she tried again. Still no reply. Evie left a message asking her to call back at once.

OK, by ten forty there had still been no word and it no longer mattered why. In just over an hour they had to leave for the church.

“Right then, no problem.” A born non-panicker, Bonnie clapped her hands and said gaily, “It doesn’t matter a bit! We’ll just do it ourselves!”

Evie couldn’t help herself; she loved Bonnie dearly but her heart still sank. Bonnie’s idea of glamour was keeping her fine blonde hair out of her eyes with a stretchy headband and treating her mouth to a good old crayoning with lipstick. For extra-special occasions she might even dab on some powder-blue eye shadow and spit on the block of mascara that Marina complained was older than she was.

But since they didn’t have any choice, they set to work with what little they had. Everyone pitched in. None of them knew how to create ringlets with hair-straighteners but Bonnie found a clip on YouTube showing how it was done.

Ray went next door and returned with the set of unused heated rollers eighty-year-old Elsie had been given last Christmas by her well-meaning but useless son.

Marina filled the plastic plant-sprayer from the kitchen tap and sprayed everyone’s hair with water. Between them they blow-dried each other’s hair and did their best to pin and spray the styles into place. It was safe to say they looked nothing like they had last week after the dress rehearsal, when Kirsty had woven her magic. When they were done, they looked like the before in a before-and-after makeover.

“Girls, you look sensational!” They didn’t, but Ray was doing his best to keep the mood upbeat.

“Right, makeup now.” Having raced upstairs, Bonnie was back with her ancient eye shadow and mascara. “If anyone wants to borrow mine, just help yourselves!”

It was eleven twenty; the hair had taken a while. Most of Evie’s toiletries were at Joel’s flat but she had a small cosmetics bag containing the basics. Hurriedly she attempted to reproduce the effect Kirsty had achieved last week. Where was the blusher stuff supposed to go anyway? She’d never got to grips with blusher. And now her hands were shaking, she was starting to really panic… this was her wedding day and she was supposed to be looking wonderful… what was everyone going to think when she turned up with—

“Ow! OW!” The mascara wand had jabbed into her eye, which promptly started streaming. Oh God, why had she tried to separate her eyelashes? She should have just left them in clumps.

“OK, sweetheart, here you go.” Ray came to the rescue with a sheet of waterlogged paper towel. “Don’t you worry, it’ll all be fine.”

“You know what?” Having made a brave but misguided attempt at eyeliner, Marina put down the mirror she’d been peering into. “I look like Lily Savage the morning after a party. I’m better off with no makeup at all.”

“I’m starting to worry about Kirsty now.” Bonnie was gamely squeezing lip gloss from a tube onto her mouth, flinching at the unfamiliar gloopy texture. “Do you think she’s had an accident?”

Evie had given up trying to imagine what might have happened to Kirsty. Her right eye was now bloodshot and painful, she was still in her dressing gown, and they had to leave the house in ten minutes.

Avoiding the sticky lip gloss, Ray gave his wife an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “You all look so perfect already, she probably decided she didn’t need to turn up.”

Twelve minutes later they were dressed and ready to go. At least, as ready as they’d ever be. Despite her own panic, Evie found herself reassured by the Barbers’ refusal to get upset. A more image-conscious family might have had a nervous breakdown but they were still laughing and joking, making the best of a situation that really wasn’t the end of the world.

And now the limo was waiting on the driveway to deliver them to the church.

“Come here.” Ray, in his morning suit, held out his arms. “You all look absolutely beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”

He hugged each of them in turn then ushered them to the front door, breaking into song as they headed over to the sleek silver Bentley. “Off we go, mind your skirts, girls… Get us to the church on time…”

It no longer mattered but Evie still needed to know. Sliding her phone out of her white silk bag—she’d have to remember to turn it off for the service—she gave Kirsty’s number one last try.

Astonishingly, this time the call was answered.

“Right. Hello.” It was Kirsty’s voice, sounding oddly jerky. “Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“Oh my God, we thought you’d had an accident!” The chatter in the back of the limo abruptly stopped so everyone else could listen. Evie said, “Are you all right? What happened? Your phone was switched off! Why didn’t you call?”

There was a strange buzzy silence. At last Kirsty said stiffly, “I’m all right. So who did your hair and makeup?”

Who did she think had done it, Vidal Sassoon? “We did it ourselves.”

“But you said you were rubbish at all that sort of thing.”

“We are rubbish.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So you keep saying.” Evie’s voice rose in frustration. “But you still haven’t said why you didn’t turn up!”

“Sshh,” murmured Bonnie, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring pat. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Her words drowned out Kirsty’s reply but something, some sixth sense, told Evie it did matter.

“Sorry, I missed that.” She pressed the phone harder against her ear.

But all she could hear now was the sound of sobbing. At the other end of the line, Kirsty was crying and gulping for breath.

“Say it again.” Evie’s stomach clenched with fear and premonition. “Say it.”

“I can’t tell you.” Between sobs, Kirsty hiccupped, “You’ll have to ask your p-precious boyfriend, OK? Just ask Joel why I didn’t turn up. He can probably hazard a guess.”

The call ended. Kirsty had severed the connection. As if from a great distance, Evie heard Bonnie say, “Darling, what’s going on?”

“Can we stop the car? I feel sick.”

The limousine purred to a halt and Evie stumbled out, waving the rest of them back. “Don’t come with me… please, just give me a minute.”

At the side of the road she turned away so they couldn’t see her face. She wasn’t going to be sick; she was just struggling to work out what to do next. Joel had first mentioned Kirsty’s name a couple of months ago; she was someone he’d come into contact with through the bar he drank in across the road from his offices. Upon hearing about his forthcoming wedding, she had told him she was a hair and makeup artist looking to expand her client base. Did Joel happen to know anyone who might be interested in a free session? Touched by her generous offer, Joel had suggested his mother, and Kirsty had duly come to the house the following week. The results had been impressive; she undoubtedly knew her stuff. She’d been helpful and friendly too. Delighted with her makeover, Bonnie had promptly booked Kirsty for this morning so they could all look dazzling on the big day.

Evie wrapped her arms tightly around herself and concentrated on taking deep breaths. A car shot past and she glimpsed smiling faces through the windows, strangers wondering why a bride in a full-length wedding dress would be standing on the grass shoulder behind a gleaming limo.

Why indeed? Kirsty was a pretty little thing in her midtwenties. During their practice run she’d been chatty toward Bonnie and Marina, quieter with her. Evie hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, had simply assumed Kirsty was concentrating harder because she was the bride.

Then again, being gullible and not paying attention to small signs was something she’d grown good at. Turning the other cheek without even consciously realizing this was what she was doing was practically her specialty.

But seriously, there were limits. Even for her.

God, look at me, I’m shaking…

“Are you alright, darling? Do you want some more tissues?”

Poor Bonnie, poor Ray. Did they suspect what had happened?

And what might be about to happen?

“I’m OK. No, I don’t need any tissues.” Lifting the hem of her dress, Evie made her way over to the beribboned limo and climbed back in. “Let’s go.”

***

Everyone was waiting inside the church apart from Nick, who was Joel’s best man, and the photographer.

“Actually, could you not do that?” Evie raised a hand to shield her face, fending off the photographer as he tried to snap her emerging from the car. “Nick, where’s Joel?”

Nick was grinning. “He’s waiting for you! You’re late. He’ll be starting to panic and think you’ve done a bunk.”

“I wouldn’t do that. But I need to talk to him. Look, could you please stop it?” The photographer was having another go with his camera. “I don’t want any pictures taken.” Evie turned her attention back to Nick. “Just get Joel out here, OK? Now.”

If she’d had any doubts before, they were decimated the moment Joel appeared on the steps of the church wearing his innocent face.

That handsome innocent face with the fractionally raised eyebrows, signaling utter bafflement, because what could possibly be wrong?

And that was the giveaway, because it was just that little bit overdone. And because she knew him well enough to be able to glimpse that faint shadow of panic in his beautiful eyes.

“Evie? Are you OK? What’s going on?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Evie watched and waited and saw the unmistakable flicker of guilt. Oh yes, he knew.

“Sweetheart, come on. We’re getting married, everyone’s in there waiting for us…” He tried to reach out to her and Evie took a step back.

“Did she call you?”

“Who?”

The fear was clearly visible now. This wasn’t fair on his family, out of the car now and lingering awkwardly a discreet distance away. But what else could she do? Go ahead with the wedding, simply because everyone was assembled here in their best clothes and the reception had been paid for? Should she ignore what had happened and marry Joel anyway, just because she loved his parents and sister so much?

“You’ve been seeing Kirsty.” Evie heard the words coming out of her mouth as if someone else were saying them. “Just be a man and admit it. She phoned me.”

Joel lifted his gaze heavenward and for a moment she thought he was going to cry. He did love her, she knew that. In his own way. But Joel was a charmer, feckless and fun-loving; he fell into situations, couldn’t help himself. He found it almost impossible to say no, whether to the offer of another biscuit, another drink, or another party.

Or another girl.

“What did she say to you?”

Evie shrugged. “It wasn’t always easy to tell. She was crying so much. Enough to get the gist, though.”

He exhaled audibly, raking his fingers through his dark-blond hair. “OK, I’ll tell you. There was a bit of a thing. It was never meant to happen, and I swear to God it didn’t mean anything, OK? And it’s over. That’s why she was crying. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to happen…”

“But it did.” Evie’s disastrously blow-dried hair was wilting in the strong sunlight, sticking to the back of her neck. Perspiration was trickling down her spine. There were tissues in her bag but her bag was still in the car…

“I finished with her. I told her last week. It was just a stupid fling. Bloody hell, she knew I was getting married! She promised she wouldn’t cause any trouble.”

“Oh dear,” said Evie. “She lied.”

“I know.” Joel nodded miserably. “I know. But we mustn’t let her win.” He clutched her elbows. “That’s what she wants, isn’t it? We can’t let that happen! Evie, we have to do this. I love you so much. I want to marry you. Please,” he begged in desperation. “This is our wedding. Everyone’s waiting…”