The One Page 12

  ‘How bad is it?’ she asked. ‘On a scale of one to five?’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’re definitely still a ten.’

  She smiled, which made her mouth hurt again. ‘Love you,’ she said. ‘See you in bed later?’

  He smiled back. ‘That’s definitely the best news I’ve had all night …’

  13

  7 weeks to go …

  Lizzie leaned back, closing her eyes as he ran his hands gently through her hair. The touch of his fingertips did little to ease the pounding guilt inside her head.

  ‘So, darling,’ said Lloyd, her achingly cool hairdresser, ‘what kind of wedding look are we going for?’

  How about shameless flirt? she wanted to say. Or maybe scarlet woman? She fidgeted in the leather chair. The irony of being surrounded by salon mirrors wasn’t lost on her, given that all week she’d barely been able to face her own reflection since her run-in with Alex. She had been tempted to cancel the appointment, but the prospect of trying to do her own hair for the wedding was almost as alarming as the rest of the thoughts currently running through her mind.

  I didn’t kiss him, she tried to console herself.

  But part of me wanted to.

  ‘Would you rather wear it up?’ Lloyd scraped her hair back and plonked it high on top of her head to demonstrate. ‘Or relaxed and loose? What feels more like you?’

  Hmmm, I definitely don’t feel relaxed. Though I have been a bit loose.

  ‘I think I’ll try it up, please.’

  ‘Good shout. Go glam or go home, that’s what I always think.’ Lizzie hadn’t met Lloyd properly before, but he was the bridal expert at her local salon and she felt confident that she was in safe hands. He was impeccably groomed, with a 50s-style quiff that looked both trendy and timeless, and a gleaming set of perfectly straight teeth. ‘What’s your wedding dress like?’

  ‘It’s white.’ She attempted a smile for the first time that morning.

  ‘Touché. And …?’

  ‘It’s full-length, one-shouldered, with little beads. Kind of a Grecian look.’

  ‘Got any pics?’ Lloyd was positively glowing with excitement. Bridal hair was clearly more stimulating than a boring old cut and blow-dry.

  ‘I can show you on my phone.’ She clicked on the boutique’s website, scrolling through a selection of gowns until she found her own. ‘See, it’s this one,’ she said, waving her mobile in front of his face.

  He zoomed in on the image. ‘Well, that’s just stunning. And when I’m finished here, you’re going to look like a Greek goddess.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Definitely. Let’s go for something timeless, but very stylish.’

  His enthusiasm was infectious, and Lizzie found herself perking up a little. ‘Like what?’

  Lloyd began playing with her hair again, this time twisting it around his fingers. ‘Well, if your strap is on the left, I think we should sweep your hair ever so slightly to the right to really show it off,’ he said. ‘I could loosely curl it, then pin it up but leave a few tendrils hanging down for a romantic effect.’

  ‘OK, let’s give it a go.’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’ He reached for a pair of hot tongs. ‘Honestly, I don’t know why brides bother to come in for these hair trials if they just want the same old look. It’s your big day, so why not make a statement?’

  Lizzie knew that if Megan were here, she’d agree with him wholeheartedly. ‘Better to be anything than bland,’ she often said. In her mind, the occasional fashion faux pas could be overlooked, but not making an effort was unforgivable. Yes, she would definitely approve of Lloyd. The only problem was, she didn’t particularly approve of Lizzie right now.

  After the ball, Megan had bundled her into a taxi so fast that they’d almost bumped heads. ‘What was all that about?’ she hissed, as they slid into the back seat. ‘I thought you never wanted to see Alex again?’

  ‘I didn’t … I don’t. It’s just that he showed up and we got talking and then …’ Her voice trailed off as she tried to explain the inexplicable. I don’t even know what happened myself. Her whole body still felt in a state of shock. She’d never even come close to cheating on Josh before, but something about Alex and the music and the moonlight had caused her to momentarily waver.

  ‘Did you kiss him?’ Megan asked.

  ‘No!’ said Lizzie, noticing the driver glance at her in the mirror while trying to pretend he wasn’t listening. She shot Megan an I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it-here look. ‘Fine,’ said Megan huffily, folding her arms over her chest for the rest of the short journey back to the hotel. She kept them crossed until the driver pulled up and stopped the meter, at which point she removed Lizzie’s purse from her clutch and used it to pay the full fare.

  By the time they got up to their room, Lizzie couldn’t take it any longer. ‘Alright, I’m sorry,’ she muttered, kicking off her shoes. ‘I know that looked bad, but it’s not what you think.’

  ‘Bad?’ said Megan incredulously. ‘Are you out of your mind?’ She didn’t shout, but whispered it quietly, which was somehow infinitely worse.

  ‘I told you, nothing happened.’ Lizzie tried to brazen it out, but the guilt began to spread rapidly across her body, infecting every cell.

  ‘Oh yeah, it totally looked like nothing was happening.’

  ‘We were just talking …’

  ‘What, with your lips pressed together?’

  ‘No!’ Lizzie felt sick. ‘You’ve got it wrong.’

  ‘Really? Because the two of you sure seemed pretty close to me.’ Megan shook her head in disapproval, her curls flinging about in all directions.

  ‘No! I mean, I guess there was a bit of a weird moment for a second there, but I had the situation under control …’

  ‘What were you thinking?’ Megan clearly wasn’t going to let her off the hook that lightly. ‘It took you years to get over him!’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking, OK? But it’s not going to happen again, so you can spare me the lecture.’

  ‘Maybe you need a lecture. You’re supposed to be getting married soon, in case you’d completely forgotten. What about Josh?’

  Something about Megan’s indignation began to piss Lizzie off. ‘What about Josh? I’d be at home with him right now if you hadn’t forced me to come in the first place.’

  ‘Oh, I see, so this is my fault!’

  ‘I’m just saying, it wasn’t me who wanted to go tonight.’

  ‘Well, you certainly looked like you were having a good time with Alex.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Lizzie sat down on the end of the bed, the combination of shame and alcohol curdling in her stomach. ‘I already feel terrible. You don’t have to make me feel worse.’

  ‘Are you still in love with him?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘David Hasselhoff. Who do you think? Alex.’

  Am I? ‘No, definitely not.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You don’t think so?’ Megan threw her arms in the air. ‘Really, Lizzie, are we going to go through all this again?’ She paused for breath, her face softening. ‘I saw the way you looked at him tonight. I just don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘No one’s going to get hurt,’ she said firmly. She wasn’t entirely sure who she was trying to convince, herself or Megan. ‘It was a mistake, that’s all. I got a bit carried away for a minute. But Alex and I are ancient history.’

  ‘Well, I’d be careful if I were you,’ said Megan, slipping out of her dress and into her satin nightie. ‘Because history has a weird way of repeating itself.’

  The following day, they drove back in painful silence, bar a stilted conversation about whether or not to stop at the services for a McDonald’s. The only thing worse than falling out with her best friend had been seeing Josh’s trusting face when she arrived home, as he bombarded her with enthusiastic questions about how the ball had gone. The encounter with Alex weighed heavily on her mind, crushing her conscience. She gave Josh an e
dited rundown of the evening then retired upstairs for a nap, citing the late night as an excuse.

  Since then, she had felt unsettled every time they were together, as though he might see inside her troubled mind. But if Josh had noticed that something was amiss, he wasn’t letting on. He’d probably put it down to last-minute Bridezilla brain.

  Ouch!

  A hairpin jabbing sharply into her scalp snapped Lizzie out of her guilt-fest. ‘Oh, did I catch you with that one?’ asked Lloyd. ‘Sorry. I’m almost done, though. Just a couple more grips and … voilà!’

  He spun the rotating chair 360 degrees with excessive enthusiasm, causing her to feel momentarily disorientated. As it slowed to a halt, Lizzie was finally able to catch sight of herself in the brightly lit mirror. She had not worn her hair up for years, but now it was piled high on her head in a way that was effortless yet elegant, with a few soft strands gently brushing against her cheek. It was faultless, but somehow not quite what she’d imagined.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ asked Lloyd, evidently pleased with his own handiwork. He held up a smaller mirror behind her so she could examine the back. ‘If you get some sparkly pins, we could add those in too, for a bit of extra oomph.’

  ‘You’ve done a brilliant job,’ she replied politely, still trying to figure out if she liked it. ‘It’s beautiful …’

  ‘I’m sensing a “but” coming …’

  ‘No, it’s lovely. It’s just different to what I’m used to, I guess.’

  ‘I think it really suits you,’ he said encouragingly. ‘You should have something special for your wedding. Now you look like a proper bride.’

  Yes, I suppose I do, thought Lizzie, turning her head to view it from both sides.

  So why do I feel like such a fraud?

  14

  15 May 2004

  Lizzie pulled on the rubber gloves and reluctantly lifted the loo seat, trying not to gag. Eeeew. When was this last cleaned? She was starting to suspect that Megan and Gareth were not actually sticking to their share of the rota, but just waiting for her to do it every third week. Grabbing the bottle of bleach, she squirted a generous amount around the rim. This isn’t exactly the way I’d imagined spending my birthday. They’d better have got me a bloody good present.

  She reached for the cheap plastic toilet brush, still wanting to retch, and was getting stuck in when she heard the door-chime go, a clunky version of Greensleeves that sounded like it had been knocked up on a child’s keyboard. Who’s that? Megan’s got her keys. It played again. We need a new doorbell. Their landlady had tragic taste.

  ‘Just a minute,’ yelled Lizzie, throwing the loo brush back in its holder and peeling off the yellow gloves. ‘I’m coming!’ She bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and turned the stiff latch.

  To her surprise, Andi and Connor were standing on the doorstep. She was carrying a bunch of tulips that were looking slightly battered, and he had a 12-pack tucked under his right arm. Confused, Lizzie glanced at the clock in the hallway: 12.45pm. They’re well early. She hadn’t been expecting anyone to turn up for at least another six hours.

  ‘Surprise!’ yelled Andi, grabbing her in an enthusiastic bear hug and bashing the flowers a bit more. Two of the petals fell off and floated into the hall. ‘Happy birthday! Can I use your bathroom? I’m bursting.’

  ‘Sure, it’s up there,’ replied Lizzie, glad now that she’d cleaned it. Andi rushed past her and ran straight up the stairs, her chunky heels causing the floorboards to creak loudly as she went. Connor ambled into the hall behind her, a roguish grin on his face.

  ‘Hey there, birthday girl,’ he said, bending down to give her a peck on the cheek. He was freshly shaven today, which made him look younger, and dressed casually in jeans and a Green Day T-shirt. ‘These are for you,’ he said, gesturing to the beer. ‘Well, not all for you, obviously, or you’ll be in a right mess. But for the party later.’

  Megan had insisted on throwing a bash for Lizzie’s 21st – ‘a house party with a capital P’ was how she’d put it – and invited pretty much everyone they knew over to theirs. Lizzie still wasn’t sure how they were all going to fit inside, but Megan wasn’t letting anything as minor as logistics get to her.

  ‘Thanks, that’s kind of you,’ she said, showing him through to the kitchen. ‘I didn’t know you two were coming this early, though, or I’d have got something decent in for lunch.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry. I just managed to swap my shift yesterday so we thought we’d come down a bit earlier and hang out with you and Alex. There wasn’t any answer at his place so we figured you guys must be here.’ He glanced around the empty room. ‘Unless he’s off getting his hair and nails done for tonight?’

  Lizzie smiled. ‘No, actually, he’s working at the moment. He won’t get here till about seven.’

  ‘What, so you’re all alone on your birthday? That’s not right.’

  ‘I’m not alone. Meg and Gareth will be back in a minute. They’ve just gone down to Asda to do a food and booze run.’

  ‘Then what’s your plan?’

  ‘Nothing much. I was going to give the place a tidy up before later …’

  Connor set the drinks down on the table and pulled a face. ‘No way. You can’t be doing that on your birthday.’

  ‘Well, it just needs a quick …’

  ‘Grab your jacket,’ he insisted. ‘We’ll go out for lunch.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘Wherever the road takes us.’

  ‘Oh, well, I haven’t got a car. And Meg’s taken hers to the supermarket.’

  ‘Never mind. I borrowed Mum’s for the weekend. We’re parked just outside.’

  ‘What, no bike?’

  ‘Nope, not with Andi. I’m missing it already, though. Mum’s car is, like, the saddest thing ever. The embarrassment alone could kill you.’

  ‘What could kill you?’ asked Andi, readjusting herself as she clomped down the stairs. ‘Your bad driving?’

  ‘Funny. I was talking about Mum’s lame car.’

  ‘You know, you two are really selling this,’ Lizzie joked.

  ‘We’re going out for lunch,’ explained Connor. ‘Otherwise Lizzie’s going to spend her birthday cleaning.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Andi. ‘I’m starving.’

  Lizzie grabbed an old envelope out of the recycling bin and scribbled a quick note for her housemates on the back. It won’t kill them to do some housework for once. Then she picked up her keys and nodded at Connor. ‘After you two,’ she said, gesturing to the door.

  ‘Alright then, birthday girl. Let’s go.’

  Half an hour later, they were all sitting in a red leather booth at a cheerful coastal diner, working their way through generous portions of fish and chips. Connor was recounting some of the scrapes he and Alex had got into as kids, including the time they’d attempted to free the school gerbil, only for it to end up wriggling off at high speed and re-emerging three days later in the lost-property bin.

  ‘Whose bright idea was that one?’ Lizzie grinned.

  Andi rolled her eyes and took a long slurp of her strawberry milkshake.

  ‘Alex’s,’ he said. ‘He was the brains – I was just supposed to be the brawn. Make sure Mrs McGuigan didn’t walk in mid-rescue.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘No! So I kept up my end of the bargain, right?’ Connor took another bite of his fish, his tattoos catching her eye under the neon restaurant lighting as he raised his fork.

  ‘I like these,’ she said, gesturing to his arm. ‘Where’d you get them done?’

  ‘Different places,’ he said. ‘Got the first when we were in Oz a few years back. Then I did another when I was in Dublin with the lads. And the last time was down here, actually, while I was visiting Alex. See?’ He stretched out his arm and showed her the intricate design. ‘I think that’s my favourite.’

  ‘What does it mean?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘One life, one chance,’ he sai
d proudly.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ scoffed Andi. ‘It probably says “I’m a total loser” or something.’

  ‘I did do some research, believe it or not.’ He picked up a chip with his fingers and dunked it into his ketchup, before polishing it off whole. ‘I’m guessing you don’t have any, then?’ he asked Lizzie.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘But I’ve always secretly fancied a small one, somewhere subtle. Like maybe the inside of my wrist.’

  Connor and Andi looked at one another like they were trying not to laugh.

  ‘What? What’s so funny?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Connor smirked. ‘I’m just not sure I can quite picture you getting a tattoo.’

  ‘Why? I could totally get one!’

  ‘Really …’ He crunched another chip.

  ‘Yes, really,’ she said defensively.

  ‘So why don’t you?’ asked Andi.

  ‘What?’ Lizzie took a swig of her cola. ‘I was talking hypothetically, that’s all.’

  ‘But what’s stopping you?’ Connor pressed.

  ‘Well, I imagine it’d hurt, for one thing.’

  ‘It doesn’t hurt that much,’ he said. ‘Especially if it’s small.’

  ‘Like your brain,’ Andi quipped.

  ‘Or the opposite of your gob,’ he fired back.

  Lizzie looked down at her bare wrist. ‘Anyway, my mum would go ballistic if she saw it. She hates tattoos.’

  ‘I’m sorry, what birthday are you celebrating today – five?’ asked Connor. ‘You’re old enough to do what you want. You don’t need a note from your mum.’

  Maybe he’s right. She was tired of people assuming she was sensible and predictable. Why shouldn’t she take a risk, do something spontaneous for once?

  ‘It’s your call,’ continued Connor. ‘But if you’re serious, I’ll come down and get a new one with you.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Andi. ‘I mean, I won’t get one, but I’ll definitely tag along and watch.’

  ‘You would? Now?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Connor. ‘I’ll even treat you for your birthday.’ He leaned back in the booth, teasing her with his dark eyes. ‘You know, sometimes you’ve got to live dangerously.’