Croissants and Jam (24 page)

    ‘Well, don’t be long,’ says my mother.

I smile and close the door behind me. An enormous sense of freedom overwhelms me and I dive into the lift. The lounge is crowded with many of our guests and I quickly retreat from there and make my way to a small bar by the gym. I see Edward nursing a whisky.

    ‘Ah, you’ve escaped. Well done.’

I join him at the bar and allow him to order me a diet coke.

    ‘How is Simon doing? Is he nervous?’ I ask, taking a small sip from my glass.

He looks at the whisky in front of him and twirls it around the glass.

    ‘The whisky you bought me is really smooth. I opened it, I’m afraid. My son, Christian, well you’ve met him haven’t you? He appreciates good single malt like his father.’

I nod. Why is it that everywhere I go Christian seems to follow me?

    ‘Ah, Simon is fine. More to the point how are you?’ He taps my knee gently. ‘You look like you need something stronger than coke. Here, have a sip.’

I take a small sip, its warmth comforting me.

    ‘You must not worry about our Simon, very business minded is my son, he takes after his mother. I hope you’re not that serious, he could do with some light relief in his life.’

    ‘He is a bit intense,’ I agree.

He shakes peanuts from a dish and drops them into my hand.

    ‘Yes, he is far too intense. Christian is more like me, thank God.’

Oh he sure is.

    ‘But you don’t have a nut allergy,’ I laugh watching him throw a handful of nuts into his mouth.

    ‘Ha, that is such a problem. Trying to keep nuts away from him when he was a kid was an absolute nightmare.’

Oh how I would love to sit and chat about Christian when he was a child. I look at my Blackberry.

    ‘Oh sod a dog they will be shitting themselves. I promised I would only be about ten minutes. I feel like I just escaped Colditz, and now I am going back in. I must be out of my mind.’

I slide off my stool and quickly take another sip of Edward’s whisky.

    ‘That is really good stuff, right back to the wolves.’

He kisses me on the cheek.

    ‘You make sure you are the boss of your own wedding and don’t go falling over your dress.’

Oh my God. Did he really say that?

    ‘I’ll try not to,’ I reply experiencing that déjà vu feeling.

I wave and rush back to my room. Everything is exactly the same as when I left it. Alex is still sitting with her hands on her stomach and Mum is having the second coat painted onto her nails. I sit back down and allow Alex to put the rollers back into my hair and try to smile at the photographer as he snaps away. Okay, this is it. In just two hours I will be walking down the aisle, and within minutes I will be Mrs Annabel Lloyd. I close my eyes and picture our flat in London. I am already one half of a joint mortgage so there is no going back. It certainly is time I got married and what better man to marry than Simon. He is rich, successful and handsome. How many men can you say that about? Well, Christian…No, no, I mustn’t think about him. Eligible too, don’t forget, Simon is eligible too and you can’t say that about Christian. I sigh and hold my hand out for a manicure. Bugger it, why do I keep thinking about him? Alex takes my other hand and places it on her stomach.

    ‘He’s kicking, feel.’

Of course, I will probably have babies fairly soon as Simon is older than me so I don’t imagine he will want to wait too long. We will probably spend a year together and then start our family. I picture us sitting in front of an open fire, or better still a log burner. Oh yes, I can definitely see our flat with one of those. We can toast marshmallows and teacakes on cold winter evenings. But, then again, maybe not, as I expect Simon will be too concerned about my weight. I expect all my dreams of being an earth mother and breastfeeding my babies all over the place won’t happen either, as he will worry what people will think. Ah, well, I must think of all Simon’s good points. The trouble is I seem to have great difficulty with that these days, shit, shit. But, of course, when I am pregnant, he won’t worry about those silly things, like my weight and what people might think, but will indulge me in everything I like, and that is bound to include marshmallows and teacakes.

    ‘Right, I will do your make-up now.’

I open my eyes to see Natasha poised with a brush close to my nose. I close my eyes again and feel the soft brush on my eyelids. I remember being so excited about having Natasha do my make-up. After all, how many women can say they had the same make-up artist for their wedding as Kate Moss has for her assignments? Oh God, I hope he doesn’t call me Annabel for the rest of our bloody lives. I shall go sodding insane if he does. I may have to change my name by deed poll or something. I snap my eyes open and connect very harshly with the eyeliner brush.

    ‘Ouch, shit. Sorry my fault,’ I apologise allowing her to gently close them again but not before I realise Mum and Rosa are leaving.

    ‘Are you going now?’ I ask nervously.

    ‘We will see you later and I just know you will look beautiful darling,’ says my mum, kissing me warmly on the cheek. Rosa squeezes my arm and then they are gone. I watch Alex as she lays the wedding dress and bridesmaid dresses on the bed. Oh shit, back to daydreaming. I remind myself, I am thirty years old. If I wait much longer there may not be anyone left to marry. I mean, look at Kaz. I really don’t want the highlight of my week to be a speed-dating evening or, horror of horrors, spending my weekends hugging a red rose and a copy of
Pride and Prejudice
while waiting for my blind date. Oh, it is too horrible to imagine. No, this is by far the most sensible decision, and as for Christian, well, why is he still single anyway? Yes, that is certainly something to think about. Although, didn’t he say he hadn’t met the right woman yet? Of course, he also said I was not his type. Shut up for goodness sake. In just a matter of hours I will be married and then all this thinking will be pointless. I feel my head being yanked back as Alex removes the heated rollers. I open my eyes and the light in the room blinds me for a second and makes my head throb. I look at my made-up face in the mirror. If this had been any other occasion I would have loved the attention.

    ‘I just need to do your hair. Do you still want it up?’ Alex asks hitting me in the back with her bump.

I nod and allow Natasha to kiss me carefully on the cheek.

    ‘Good luck,’ she whispers. ‘See you later.’

I feel sick and lean over to read the time on my Blackberry. Surely I have a little while before I have to leave. My heart sinks when I see I have an hour. As soon as Alex has finished my hair I swallow two painkillers for my thumping head.

    ‘What do you think? The million-dollar question is will I be able to pull a handsome Italian in this?’ smiles Kaz, parading in her tight fitting maroon bridesmaid dress. I look at her slim waist enviously. I nod appreciatively.

    ‘You can do it,’ I say taking the bottle of Quiet Life from my bag. Oh God, my hands are shaking so much I can hardly twist the top off the bottle. How am I ever going to get into the dress?

    ‘Can you open the balcony door?’ I ask, struggling to breathe.

    ‘We should get you into your dress,’ commands Alex helping me up.

A loud rapping at the door makes us all jump.

    ‘Croissants and jam for the wedding party, courtesy of the hotel management,’ calls a breezy voice.

Jesus Christ, this surely cannot be happening. Kaz opens the door as I fall back into my chair.
Croissants and Jam.
I close my eyes and see Christian sitting in the small airport café surrounded by croissants.
Buy you a coffee
, his voice echoes in my head. I open my eyes expecting to see him standing in front of me.

    ‘I can’t go through with it,’ I state flatly.

Kaz plonks the tea tray onto a table and a croissant bounces off the plate and onto the floor. Alex seems to somehow glide onto the bed like a human balloon.

    ‘What?’ snaps Kaz, picking up a croissant and putting it down again, ‘What do you mean?’

    ‘Oh my God, I hope they do epidurals in Italy,’ moans Alex taking deep breaths.

    ‘Oh fuck Bels, you can’t be serious. Simon is probably at the church already,’ groans Kaz, as my words sink in.

I watch as she leans against the bathroom door and slides down helplessly.

    ‘Deep breaths, deep breaths, I think someone should call Tom,’ moans Alex.

    ‘You’re not in labour,’ I say feeling very calm.

    ‘How the hell would you know that?’

    ‘Because everything is in your mind, Alex, well, apart from the pregnancy. Have a cup of tea.’

    ‘I can’t believe this is happening. Who the hell is going to tell Simon?’ Kaz sighs, while pulling at the roots of her hair. I stare at her.

    ‘Oh fuck,’ she groans dropping her head into her hands. ‘I don’t want to be the bloody messenger; they always shoot the messenger don’t they?’

Alex is sobbing.

    ‘You will now be on the shelf, you know that don’t you?’

I sigh and look at Kaz.

    ‘I am sorry Kaz, I really am, but you will have to tell him.’

She stares at the door. I follow her eyes to see my father.

    ‘Oh Daddy, make her see sense,’ cries Alex.

My dad looks from Alex to me and then to Kaz who is sitting on the floor. I pull my robe around me and attempt to smile.

    ‘You have been giving this some thought then?’

I nod. Kaz jumps up pulling at her dress.

    ‘Alex, can you get this off me. I swear I could kill you Bels.’

    ‘Leave that to Mother, she will most certainly kill her,’ shouts Alex.

I waltz into the bathroom.

    ‘Well, frankly, I would rather be dead than marry Simon,’ I say as I slam the door.

Chapter Nineteen

    ‘I really thought his mother was going to lynch me.’

Kaz carefully lays a cold towel on her head and falls onto the bed. I really cannot believe I have done it. Of course, there is the flat and everything to sort out, but I can cope with that. It is such a relief. I can’t believe how much better I feel.

    ‘How was Simon when you left?’ I ask apprehensively.

She pouts.

    ‘How do you think? He was a bit shell-shocked, poor bugger. His mum started screaming and his best man called you a bitch. Simon’s grandmother paced around wringing her hands saying
mamma mia,
as if someone had just died. Your mum burst into tears. Oh God, it was awful…They were all dressed to the nines and I turn up in my jeans. Your mum looked fit to faint as soon as she saw me.’

She lets out a giggle.

    ‘Bloody hell Bels, you have got some guts, especially considering Alex was forever going into phantom labour. I mean weren’t you afraid she finally would?’

I shrug.

    ‘She isn’t due for eight weeks. Honestly, that baby must be picking up all her anxieties. I swear it will be born with Valium in its hands.’

She sniggers. I hand her a mug of tea and sit hugging my own.

    ‘Simon’s brother, what’s his name?’

    ‘Christian,’ I reply my heart skipping a beat.

    ‘Yeah, he looked a bit stunned and disappeared in all the commotion.’ She grabs a stale croissant from the plate. ‘So what are you going to do now?’

I think for a moment.

    ‘Go home I suppose. Try and get my flat back,’ I say, without much conviction.

    ‘I wouldn’t go outside the door for several hours, if I were you.’

Kaz is quite right of course. I am now Rome’s most wanted, dead or alive. My Blackberry hasn’t stopped bleeping. Mum has knocked at the door several times but I could not face seeing her. I have four voicemail messages from Simon’s mother and six from my mother. After Kaz leaves, I run a hot bath and soak for a while. I then phone the airport and arrange a flight for tomorrow afternoon. Kaz had eagerly agreed to stand in for me at the fashion show so I could go home and wallow without feeling guilty about not attending. As I lie on the bed contemplating my future my mobile shrills and flashes Simon’s name. I reluctantly answer it.

    ‘Simon, I am really sorry,’ I say meaning every word.

    ‘The thing is I really
don’t
want to see you Annabel. I know there is a lot to sort out and I am capable of doing it. I will take care of the bank and mortgage, and the flat. I would really prefer it if you didn’t get in touch. I am sure you had good reason for doing what you did but I can’t say I understand it.’

Oh bollocks, he really hates me. I suppose if I were him, I would hate me too.

    ‘I’d like the ring back,’ he states flatly, just as I am feeling sorry for him.

I nearly fall off the bed.

    ‘What?’

    ‘The ring, I bought it from a very good jeweller friend in Hatton Garden. He will give me a good price for it,’ he says, coldly.

I sit upright and look at the ring on my finger.

    ‘But you gave the ring to me,’ I argue.

    ‘Yes, well now I want it back and the bracelet that I bought you when we first met.’

I push myself to the end of the bed and swing my leg.

    ‘Are you really serious?’

    ‘Be grateful you don’t live in America Annabel, it is the law there and I would not even have to ask.’

I should have known. Only Simon would know all the legalities of a relationship breakdown.

    ‘I hope you don’t ask me to give you the earrings back,’ I snap irritably.

    ‘They were earrings for pierced ears so I can’t get my money back on those,’ he responds coolly.

    ‘Well, that is just as well, seeing as I lost them on the flight here,’ I say with cruel delight and bite my lip quickly.

    ‘Typical,’ he sighs.

Bloody hell, was I really going to marry this guy? What a lucky escape. Oh yes, a lucky escape all right, except now I am not only single but probably homeless as well. However, I console myself getting divorced from this guy would have been a legal nightmare. He most likely would have found a loophole to have me deported. A bit of an exaggeration but you get my drift, never marry a lawyer.