Strings Attached (43 page)

Although he was there, Adam had been quiet all morning, diligently working, sharing the odd joke with Marisa, but he still hadn’t really communicated with her. Before he left the van
George
needed to try and make things better. She caught his arm as he passed her.

‘Look, Adam. Thanks for helping us out today.’

It sounded pathetic. It didn’t sound nearly enough, when she had shaken the foundations of his world.

‘That’s OK,’ Adam answered, shrugging.

‘Adam, listen. I don’t want things to change
,
you know, between us. I don’t want you to think I’m suddenly going to develop a passion for bingo or that I’m going to start controlling your life,’ George told him.

‘I’ve already got someone who tries to do that,’ Adam reminded her.

‘I know and I wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Honestly, I can still be annoying and boss you about like I always have and you can still tell me how much you drink at the Student Union.’

‘I never really told you the truth about that,’ Adam answered with half a smile.

‘I know it must be weird for you, but we can just take things slowly, one step at a time - or we can never talk about it again. All I ever wanted was for you to know the truth and for you to know how much I love you,’ George assured him tears pricking her eyes.

Adam nodded soberly.

‘So, are we friends again?’ George wanted to know, swallowing back the emotion.

‘Will you tell me about my dad? Properly I mean. What he was like, what he looked like, you know - stuff I should know,’ Adam asked.

‘Of course I will, if that’s what you want. I’ve got photos,’ George spoke, nodding.

‘OK, well I’d better go,’ Adam said, checking his watch again.

‘Yes, well, break a leg or whatever they say in the music business,’ George said awkwardly.

‘I will,’ he replied and he hurried down the steps, nearly bowling over a Channel Nine film crew.

George closed the door and looked at her employees, hurriedly preparing things to go in the oven or the fridge. All this work for a sham wedding seemed criminal, but she knew there were guests from American magazines, people would notice the food and it was important to get it right. It was the only thing in her life she had a chance to get right now.

‘You OK?’ Helen asked, looking up and noticing the expression on George’s face.

‘Yeah, fine. You know, I don’t think I’ll come up for the wedding,’ George said, wiping her hands on the front of her apron.

‘What?! But you have to! Adam’s playing for a whole castle full of celebrities. Taylor’s dress is like encrusted in at least ten million diamonds or something and Quinn’s apparently wearing a dove grey linen suit with turquoise trimmings. I can only imagine how well that’s going to go with his eyes,’ Marisa exclaimed, looking up.

‘Marisa!’ Helen exclaimed.

‘Oh God, I complete
ly
forgot you’d
...
’ Marisa began.

Helen coughed loudly and hissed at her daughter.

‘Do not inform the entire room of it!’

‘Shit, sorry!’ Marisa said to George.

‘It’s OK. You can tell me all about it afterwards and I’m sure there’ll be plenty of pictures in
Star Life
magazine,’ George spoke.

‘They’ve got a special souvenir issue going on,’ Marisa informed.

Helen went over to George and patted her affectionately on the shoulder.

‘Is it definitely over?’ she asked her quietly.

‘Yep. He’s marrying Taylor, there’s no going back after that,’ George said with a determined nod.

‘There is someone out there for you George,’ Helen assured.

‘Yeah, maybe. Not that it matters, I mean who needs a man anyway right? They’re nothing but trouble, the ones I fall for anyway,’ George said.

Her defences were back up and her tough exterior, although not completely restored, was definitely going to withsta
nd the crater-
sized cracks that had opened up. It would take time, but she had lots of that and maybe more business off the back of the wedding would help her through it.

There was a knock on the door and Marisa leapt to open it, getting cream and garlic sauce on the handle.

‘Hello,’ she said, greeting Dennis, the larger than life security guy.

‘I’ve got a packet for George Fraser,’ Dennis informed in his usual gruff manner.

‘Oh she’s here. I’ll give it to her,’ Marisa offered.

She shut the door and looked at the packet.

‘Dennis brought this for you,’ she said, holding it out to George.

George took it from her and put it to one side.

‘Well aren’t you going to open it?’ Marisa questioned.

‘No, I need to check the chicken and I need to do another batch of sauce and
...
’ George began, walking across the room to distract herself.

‘I’ll open it then,’ Marisa said, picking up the parcel and turning it over in her hands.

‘You will not Marisa,’ Helen spoke warningly.

‘Just leave it, please. In fact there isn’t long to go now. Why don’t you guys go up to the function room and check it’s all been laid up correctly. Marisa, Helen why don’t you go up to the wedding,’ George suggested.

‘I’m not really fussed about going to be honest. All that expense, releasing pink doves, elaborate harpists and water fountains. It isn’t really my thing,’ Helen remarked with a sniff.

‘Mother! You have to come! Quinn invited us! And we have to support Adam! After today, he’s going to be hot property. Well he already is, but like, not on the music scene, yet,’ Marisa spoke excitedly.

‘Yes, go Helen. You can tell me all about it afterwards. The toned down, proper version, instead of the over the top, exaggerated version I might get from Marisa,’ George said.

‘I take offence at that!’ Marisa called.

‘Are you sure you don’t want any help here?’ Helen checked.

‘I’m sure. Everything’s under control,’ George insisted.

‘Right! Let me get out of this apron and slip into something more chic,’ Marisa said, untying the pinny and throwing it down.

It was like a fairground. All that was missing was the Ferris wheel and the candyfloss sellers. People were smiling at him. They were all dressed in their finest, the whole colour wheel represented in silk, linen and chiffon. He felt sick to the stomach. Getting married shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t be about putting on a show, it should be about the main players, the bride and the groom and how they feel about each other. He was damn sure creating an eau de parfum wasn’t the right basis for a life together. But what he’d shared with George was. He had no doubt about that. And she’d said no.

The castle was full to capacity with beautiful people in flamboyant outfits. The orchestra was situated to the left of the front doors, and to the right were the water fountain and the elaborate harpist. She was playing music by Handel, as the guests took their seats.

‘He’s here then,’ Marisa remarked as she adjusted her dress.

She and Helen took a seat each at the back of the room.

‘Who? Adam? Yes, doesn’t he look gorgeous in that suit? I’m very pleased about you two Marisa. He’s a lovely boy,’ Helen told her.

‘I wasn’t talking about Adam, I meant Quinn. He’s at the front there, with Belch looking as scruffy as ever. I mean, like he’s wearing a suit, but he still manages to look like he’s spent all night in a ditch. The state Adam said Quinn was in last night, I’m surprised he’s not got a bucket by the side of him,’ Marisa commented.

‘Poor George, it must be hard for her, knowing he’s marrying someone else. I think she really fell for him,’ Helen whispered to her daughter.

‘And now she knows she’s second best. That’s gotta hurt,’ Marisa added.

‘He doesn’t look too well though does he? He looks very pale and he keeps glancing back at the door,’ Helen remarked.

‘Well, that’s what they do don’t they? All grooms do that. They get all sweaty and clammy and start adjusting the collar of their shirt and whispering nervously to the best man. And when they’re not doing that, they’re like smiling at their mad old aunts with the freaky hats,’ Marisa informed.

‘You haven’t been to that many weddings.’

‘No but I’ve seen them on
EastEnders
. I’m hoping for some face slapping and a paternity reveal at the reception.’

‘I think we’ve had enough revelations this week, don’t you?’ Helen remarked.

The harpist stopped playing and silence fell over the guests as Adam got to his feet and tucked the violin under his chin.

‘Oh.
My.
God! Have you seen her dress? It’s like
sooo
over the top. I totally love it!’ Marisa remarked loudly as the congregation rose to their feet.

Taylor stood at the entrance to the room, wearing a white,
full-
length gown in satin, encrusted with diamonds and pearls. She was wearing a veil over her face and her silk gloved hand was holding tightly onto Roger’s arm. She smiled at people who greeted her with happy, hopeful expressions and then walked confidently forward, as Adam began to play.

George swigged from a bottle of lager and looked at her watch. The wedding would be starting and she couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. She couldn’t see him marry Taylor. It would be like having her face rubbed in it. It didn’t matter whether he loved Taylor or not, he didn’t love
her
enough to stop it.

She looked at the packet on the worktop and picked it up. She took a deep breath and ripped open the top, shaking out what was inside. It landed on the worktop in front of her, a leather bracelet, old, worn and broken in half.

George picked it up with a trembling hand and just stared at it. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t breathe, she felt sick. She looked again at one of the pieces and her heart felt like it was going to burst open. This couldn’t be real, it was someone’s cruel trick. Roger’s revenge maybe? But there it was, in her hands
,
and her conversation with Quinn the previous day played through her mind.

She looked at her watch, her whole body trembling. She knew what she had to do. She had to stop the wedding.

Thirty Eight

Adam played the violin solo and Taylor and Roger, followed by Carleen and Saffron, made their way up the aisle to the front of the room, where the priest was waiting.

Quinn looked behind, but not at Taylor. He was looking at the doors of the castle, hopefully and almost expectantly. He was starting to sweat.

Taylor reached him and Roger smiled at Quinn, giving him his daughter’s hand.

‘Good afternoon everyone and a very warm welcome to this beautiful castle, where the sun is shining upon us and upon the marriage of Taylor and Quinn,’ the priest began.

Taylor looked at Quinn and smiled, but Quinn stared straight ahead, unable to connect with the event. His mouth was dry and he felt light
-
headed.

‘Marriage is a symbol of unity, unity between husband and wife, but also unity between family and friends. Everyone who has been invited here today will become part of this special union, whereby I hope you will love, cherish and support Taylor and Quinn throughout their married life together,’ the priest
continued
.

‘Bit OTT,’ Marisa whispered to Helen.

‘If they can’t support themselves, they shouldn’t be getting married at all,’ Helen agreed.

‘As you all know, it is a legal requirement for me to ask if anyone here knows of any lawful reason why Taylor and Quinn cannot be joined in holy matrimony. And if anyone knows of any reason, they must declare it now,’ the priest announced.

‘Marisa, am I too late?’ George hissed, bending down at the side of Marisa’s chair.

‘What? Too late for what?’ Marisa asked, looking at George.

‘To stop the wedding,’ George said her voice faltering.

‘Oh.
My.
God. You
are
like joking! This is the wedding of the millennium,’ Marisa said.

‘I can’t do this,’ Quinn said in barely more than a whisper.

‘Sorry?’ the priest said, moving closer to Quinn and leaning towards him.

‘I can’t do this,’ Quinn repeated a little more firmly.

‘Marisa, I need to stop the wedding. I need to stop it now, it can’t go ahead,’ George babbled, looking up the aisle and shaking with fear.