THE HUSBAND HUNTERS (30 page)

‘We’re guests of Jennifer,’ I explained, and gave our names to the woman. She looked at us doubtfully, and then scanned down the list on her clipboard.

‘Sorry,’ she said, brushing us aside. ‘Those names aren’t on here.’

‘There must be some mistake,’ I said, taking hold of her arm. ‘Jennifer has definitely put our names on the door.’

‘I’m sorry,’ the woman was quite firm. ‘Your names are on not on this list. Now would you please go or else I will have to call security.’ She glared at us. There was nothing for it. We walked away from the door and away from the crowds, which were already beginning to disperse. To top it all, it had started to rain.

‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘What on earth has happened? There must be some mistake. Jen told me she’d put our names down.’ The rain was beginning to hammer down.

‘Let’s go back to the hotel,’ said Tash. ‘There’s no point in getting soaked.’

Feeling like a bunch of pricked balloons, we climbed into a taxi. We looked a sorry state with our rain-soaked hair plastered to our foreheads and black panda eyes from water-logged mascara. I couldn’t understand it – what on earth had gone wrong?

I looked at my Blackberry the next morning, lying in bed at the hotel. I hoped there would be an email from Jen explaining about the mix-up last night. There was one unopened mail – but it was from Nick. It had been sent yesterday morning, and in my excitement at getting on the train, I hadn’t even looked at it. I almost couldn’t be bothered to open it. It was probably him moaning about some photo shoot that had gone wrong. Sighing, I clicked it open.

Dear Bee,

I hope you get this email in time. Maria told me you were off to the premiere to meet Jen and I wanted to stop you before you got on the train.

I never thought you would really go. I thought you had realized right at the beginning that it was me all along sending the emails from Jen and you were playing along. I thought we were just having a joke. I never thought you would really go to London – so I hope you get this before you get on that train!

Forgive me!

Nick X

I nearly hyperventilated on the spot. Red spots of anger danced in front of my eyes. It had been Nick all along playing a joke on me. I couldn’t believe it. I shook Rach awake and showed her the text.

‘Oh, my God!’ she said. ‘It was never Jen all along – and we’ve come all the way to London. What are you going to do?’

I was so fuming I couldn’t even speak. Just wait until I got my hands on that scheming bastard. Grrrrrrrrrrr! Words couldn’t even describe what I was going to do to him. So Nick thought he could play a joke on me, did he? He wasn’t going to know what had hit him, when he next clapped eyes on me. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned by fake emails from Jen. He would wish he’d never been born. Charred duck testicles? The next meal I was going to serve him would be his own burnt testicles, rammed down his throat.

**************************************

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The girls were speechless when I told them what had happened. For the entire two-hour journey back to Manchester I ranted about what I was going to do to Nick.

‘There won’t be a cell in his body left unharmed by the time you’ve finished with him,’ Tash said dryly. ‘I do wish you’d looked at your emails before we left for London, though. Then we would have known it was a joke and not gone to the premiere at all.

‘Fancy going all that way and we didn’t even get to see the film,’ moaned Kaz. ‘All we got was soaking wet through and flat hair.’

‘It could have been worse,’ said Rach. ‘At least we didn’t embarrass ourselves in front of Jen – and we did get to see her in the flesh, which was pretty exciting.’

I had to agree with Rach, although I would never have admitted it. I go a bit silly when I see a celebrity, and it had been thrilling to see Jen in her gorgeous gown.

‘It would have been even more exciting, if she had been staying in my flat for the next two days,’ I said to Rach.

‘Yes, but think about the practicality of having Jen in your flat – she may have turned her nose up. It is rather untidy, Bee,’ pointed out Rach. ‘And I know that you and Scarlett don’t mind the pizza stain on the sofa, but Jen may not have been keen.’

‘And she probably only drinks skinny lattes, and all you have is a jar of Nescafé in your cupboard,’ Kaz added.

The girls did have a point. It would have been stressful having Jen to stay. I’d flown around with a Hoover quickly before I’d left for London, but the flat could have done with being steam-cleaned from top to bottom. Jen was used to a spotless Hollywood mansion, not some poky flat in Cheshire. There was a huge cobweb in the corner of the bathroom; Scarlett and I had both been promising each other we would move it, but neither of us actually dared touch it, in case we disturbed a spider of Miss Muffett proportions.

I waved good-bye to the girls at the station and got in a taxi. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up outside my flat. I nearly dropped my bag in shock. There was Soph, sitting on my front step.

‘Hi,’ she said awkwardly, getting up and helping me pick up my bag. ‘I’m sorry to make you jump, but I had to see you.’

I nearly grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and marched her back down to the pavement, but the fortune-teller’s words flashed into my mind. ‘None of you will ever be happy without the fifth missing piece of your jigsaw...’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘You’d better come in.’ A few minutes later, I handed Soph a cup of steaming tea. I put two extra spoons of sugar in mine. I’d had such a lot of shocks over the past two days – I could feel my blood sugar levels plummeting.

Soph sat down on the sofa, warming her hands around the mug and looked over at me.

‘I’m sorry, Bee,’ she began. ‘I know what I did wasn’t right and I came to apologize. I never meant to hurt you.’

I didn’t know what to say to her. For weeks I’d dreamt of a having a massive showdown with Soph, which always ended up with me satisfactorily punching her in the nose, but now she was sitting in front of me, I didn’t know what to do.

‘I really miss you all,’ she added. Her blue eyes filled up with tears, and one splashed into her tea mug.

‘You should have told me before that you had met Paul at the reunion,’ I said. ‘I felt you had betrayed me by keeping it a secret.’ I passed Soph a tissue and she wiped her eyes.

‘I know,’ she said, ‘but I was worried that you would be cross with me. I kept pretending that if no-one knew about it, then we could carry on seeing each other and nobody would get hurt.’

‘But I would have found out in the end, like I did. I’d have preferred it, if you had told me yourself.’

‘Can we be friends again?’ she begged, twisting the tissue around in her fingers. I looked at her. There was genuine anguish on her face. I thought back to Paul. Maybe I’d got carried away with this husband-hunting business – I’d been clutching at straws and desperately trying to find anyone who would fit the bill. I’d dumped Paul once, and I should never have gone back. If I’m totally honest, the way he patted his car when he got out, would have ended up driving me nuts.

‘Okay,’ I said to Soph, giving her a hug.

‘I’ve missed you all horribly,’ she said in a cracked voice, ‘but there’s something else I need to tell you.’ I wondered what it could be. Soph had already pinched one of my ex-boyfriends; surely she couldn’t have broken it off with Paul and hooked up with another of my past disasters?

‘The thing is,’ Soph looked a bit nervous, ‘Paul and I, well, we’re getting married.’

I looked at her, dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe it. My eyes automatically looked at her left hand. How could I have missed the huge, stonking, diamond sparkler sitting there on her fourth finger, mocking me?

I swallowed the dart of jealousy that had started to sear through me. Paul and I could have never worked. He had dumped me before he met Soph.

‘That’s nice,’ I said, but it sounded lame. I was trying to be pleased for her, but to hear she was getting married, within a few minutes of me generously bestowing forgiveness on her, was a bit too much to take in.

‘I know you can’t be thrilled for me, Bee,’ she said, taking my hand, ‘but Paul is my soul-mate, and I could never imagine being without him – and it’s all thanks to the club for making me go to that reunion. Otherwise, I would have never have met him.’

I had to agree. It was a success for the club. We were going to get at least one wedding. It would be hard seeing her and Paul walk down the aisle, but I needed to hold my head up high and try and be pleased for Soph. Having one of your friends get married, was almost as good as getting married yourself.

‘This calls for a celebration,’ I said, getting up from the sofa. ‘I’ll call the girls and we can have some champagne.’ I went in to the kitchen to phone the girls. I didn’t want Soph to overhear any of the conversations.

‘Are you out of your mind?’ said Tash. ‘After what she did to you – I’m surprised you even let her into the house.’

‘It’s hard,’ I agreed, ‘but Paul and I were never meant to be – and he and Soph are obviously so in love. Don’t forget what the fortune-teller said. Let’s be happy for them.’

‘Okay,’ Tash agreed, ‘and anyway, I’d do anything for a glass of champagne. So get it cracked open, I’m on my way.’

***

Soph and Paul’s wedding had been organized for six months’ time.

‘It doesn’t give us much time to plan,’ fretted Rach, although she was pleased that her baby would have been born by then, and she wouldn’t be waddling around with a huge bump. In the last few weeks Rach’s bump had grown and she was already moaning that the only clothes she could fit into could double as a family-sized tent.

‘It’s okay. Mum’s doing a lot of the organizing,’ said Soph. ‘We have to sort out the dresses and the hen night too, of course. I want all of you to be bridesmaids.’

The following weekend, we all found ourselves in Brides of Manchester – a huge boutique with every kind of imaginable dress. It seemed surreal that we were actually in here, planning a real wedding. This time we weren’t cutting designs out of magazines and bringing them in to the meeting. Instead we were in a bridal shop – and it was the real deal. I felt a bit emotional. The club had done what we had set out to do – Soph had found herself a husband.

‘You were the first bride that we picked out of the fate draw to walk down the aisle. It really must be fate,’ said Tash, pulling a long, beige silk dress, off the rail and holding it against her. ‘What do you think girls?’ she asked.

‘Fabulous for you with your dark skin and dark hair, but it will make the rest of us look like washed out freaks,’ said Kaz. ‘No way are we having beige.’ Tash sulkily hung the dress back on the rail.

‘What about this?’ I asked, pulling out a dress in deep purple. It was stunning – a long column of purple satin, with a top layer of sheer fabric in a slightly darker shade. It would be perfect for all of our skin tones.

‘It’s gorgeous,’ agreed Tash, snatching the dress from me and holding it up to her. It was a perfect bridesmaid’s dress. Not a meringue in sight – just pure elegance.

We all excitedly tried on the dress in the changing rooms. The assistant took our measurements to order sizes.

‘Are you not a bridesmaid?’ she asked Rach, who was looking particularly enormous that morning in a huge, black poncho.

‘Yes, but ‘I’ll wait until I’ve had the baby before I try mine on,’ said Rach, laughing. ‘Otherwise I’ll look like a gigantic blackcurrant.’

Soph was thrilled that the bridesmaids’ dresses had been sorted out. We walked out of the shop, and I fell behind, walking with Tash.

‘What’s happening with you and Rob at the moment?’ I asked her.

‘We are seeing each other again now,’ she confessed, ‘but it’s very low-key. Hazel flipped her lid when she found out about us, so I might have to start wearing my back protector out in public and not just in the car. It’s going well, but we are taking things slowly. We’ve both grown up a lot since our fling all those years ago, but it’s got promise.

‘Do you think he would ever get back with Hazel?’ I asked curiously. ‘I never trust a man when he says he is completely over his ex. Exes always have a habit of rearing their ugly heads again, and then you find yourself suddenly dumped, because he’s back with the woman he spent the entire last six months slagging off.’ Tash looked at me as if I’d grown another head.

‘I’ve never been dumped by a man and I don’t intend to start now,’ she said snootily. ‘Mind you, Hazel was furious about him seeing me, so she may well try to ruin it. We will have to wait and see.’

Soph was thrilled to be back in the club and she asked for a meeting, so she could catch up on all the news.

She gasped when she heard about Tash’s internet stranger turning out to be Mr Beale –although I had to hand it to Tash – the story didn’t lose anything in the telling. Tash made it sound like she and Rob had been the tortured, romantic souls of Cathy and Heathcliffe. Soph got thoroughly caught up in the saga and even I almost believed it.