The One Page 8

  ‘Yeah, great. His family are nice – I can’t wait for you to meet them.’

  ‘Get any good presents?’

  ‘Loads. Alex got me a proper writer’s notebook and a silver necklace.’

  ‘A necklace, eh? Sounds like a keeper. Perhaps he can have a quiet word with your father next year.’

  ‘Is Dad around now?’ She could just about make out the opening strains of the EastEnders Christmas special starting up.

  ‘He was, but he’s gone and locked himself in the bathroom. Probably too much turkey.’

  ‘That’s gross!’

  ‘It certainly is. And you’re not the one who still has to live with him.’

  ‘Too much information, Mum!’ Lizzie coughed.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Well, tell him I called, won’t you?’

  ‘Will do. Say hello to that handsome young man of yours. I’m going to have a sit down and watch the telly.’

  ‘OK.’ She hugged the phone closer to her ear. ‘I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too, love.’ The crack in her voice would have been imperceptible to anyone but Lizzie. ‘Merry Christmas.’

  ‘Merry Christmas, Mum.’

  9

  9 weeks to go …

  Lizzie took a sip of coffee and smiled at her mum over the kitchen table. They had spent the past two hours slipping gold-trimmed invitations into satiny envelopes, addressing each one carefully with their neatest writing. She was grateful not only for the helping hand while Josh was at the football, but also for the chance to spend a quiet morning together. In the whirlwind of the wedding prep she hadn’t seen as much of her parents as she normally liked.

  ‘Only a couple more to go now, love,’ said her mum. ‘We’ll be finished in no time.’

  ‘Thanks for this,’ said Lizzie. ‘You’ve done a brilliant job.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t need to thank me, Elizabeth. I still can’t believe our little girl’s getting married! Your dad hasn’t stopped telling people, you know. Last week the poor postman couldn’t get away for half an hour. And you should have heard him on the phone to Auntie Carole.’

  ‘I hope he’s not too upset we can’t invite his work lot. I did feel bad about that, but there’s just so many of them.’ The first draft of the guest list had been over 200 names long, with both sets of parents hoping to include every known acquaintance under the sun. Lizzie and Josh had been forced to slash the numbers right down – no easy feat, but crucial given the cost per head. In the end, they’d restricted it to close friends, family and a few of her mother’s ‘must-haves’, trimming the total to 100 for the day and another 25 for the evening.

  ‘No, he understands. I haven’t seen him this excited in years. He keeps leaving notes for his speech all over the damn kitchen. It’s driving me round the bend!’

  ‘Well, that’s good. Not that he’s getting on your nerves, I mean, but that he’s looking forward to it.’

  ‘Oh, yes, we’re all looking forward to it. It’s going to be so much better than Judy’s daughter’s wedding. Terrible canapés.’ Lizzie remembered that for her mum and her badminton friends, social events were another form of competitive sport. ‘But enough about us, how are you feeling?’ She looked her daughter up and down. ‘You seem to have lost weight. You’re not doing one of those faddy diets, are you?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ said Lizzie.

  ‘Because you know what I think of those …’

  ‘Mum, I’m not! Really. I think it’s just all the rushing around for the wedding. It’s been a bit stressful lately.’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘You youngsters, you get yourselves worked up over everything. What’s there to be stressed about? You should be bursting with excitement.’

  Lizzie took a deep breath, wondering whether to confide in her about Alex’s recent return. Like Megan, her mum had been a huge support when he left, and would hopefully dish out some sensible advice. Or maybe I’d just freak her out, too? She knows he broke my heart.

  The confession hovered on her lips for a second, before she swilled it down with another swig of coffee. It was probably best to tell as few people as possible. Besides, it’s not like I called him. Better to just keep quiet.

  ‘Of course I’m excited. It’s going to be amazing.’ She slid another invite into its envelope and sealed it with a flourish. ‘You only get one wedding day, right?’

  ‘Well, look at Joan Collins,’ her mum replied. ‘But yes, I’m sure you and Josh will just have the one. Unless you decide to renew your vows – your father and I have been thinking about that, you know.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Maybe. All this wedding fever has got us in the mood. Perhaps we’ll elope somewhere sunny, do it in style.’

  ‘There’s always Las Vegas.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that. You know what your dad’s like – he’d be turning up in an Elvis suit or something.’ She winced at the thought. ‘But it would be good to get away, maybe take that second honeymoon …’

  Lizzie wasn’t sure whether the prospect of her parents on honeymoon was endearing or disgusting, but she admired the way they still seemed loved-up after more than 30 years of marriage. ‘Mum …’ she mused tentatively, ‘how did you know Dad was The One when you met him?’

  ‘Gosh, I never really thought about it, love. The first few times I met him, I didn’t notice him all that much, if I’m honest.’

  ‘What, even though he lived down the road?’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t like he was next door. We never really got chatting properly until that day my car broke down. And even then it took a while for him to grow on me.’

  ‘But when were you absolutely sure? Like, 100 per cent?’

  ‘I don’t know. There wasn’t just one moment.’

  Lizzie was disappointed, realising that her mum wasn’t about to impart some magical formula for marital bliss. ‘So over time, you just knew?’

  ‘I guess so. Why all the questions?’ She patted her daughter’s hand. ‘Are you feeling a bit weird about the wedding?’

  ‘No! Not really. Maybe a little.’ Lizzie coughed nervously. ‘Is that normal? Do you think there’s something wrong with me?’

  ‘Oh darling, I think there’d be something wrong with you if you didn’t feel like that,’ her mum reassured her. ‘Marriage is a big commitment, and you’re bound to get a little outbreak of cold feet from time to time. It happens to most people, believe me.’

  ‘Even you?’

  ‘Oh yes, I was a mess the week before! But it’s nothing to worry about. You love Josh, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Josh is great.’

  ‘Well, then, it’ll all work out fine – you’ll see. I remember when they opened the door to the church on our wedding day, and I saw your father standing at the other end of the aisle, I just knew that there was no one else I’d rather marry. And now look: I’m still stuck with the daft git.’

  Lizzie patted her mum’s hand. She always knew how to make her feel better. ‘Thanks. If Josh and I are half as happy as you two, we’ll be lucky.’

  ‘When’s he getting back?’

  ‘Not for a few hours. They’ll probably go for a drink after the football.’

  ‘Well, maybe the two of you should go out and do something nice tonight. We’ve done really well with these invites.’

  ‘Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.’ Just then Lizzie’s mobile rang, and Megan’s name flashed up on the screen. ‘Hi, Meg. Can I call you back in a bit? I’ve got Mum here at the moment.’

  ‘OK,’ said Megan. ‘Tell her I said hi.’

  ‘Megan says hi.’

  ‘HI THERE,’ her mum shouted loudly in the direction of the phone. She kissed Lizzie on the cheek. ‘Look, don’t hang up on my account, love. I was about to leave anyway.’

  ‘But I thought …’

  ‘You girls have a good chat. I’d better be getting back.’ She picked up her bulky handbag. ‘Now remember, don’t get yourself all worked up worryi
ng. I’ll give you a call in the week. And I can see myself out.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, yes …’ Her mum gave a cheery wave. ‘BYE MEGAN,’ she yelled as she made her way towards the door.

  ‘Er, bye, Mrs S,’ said Megan.

  ‘No, it’s me again now,’ said Lizzie.

  ‘This is way too confusing for a Saturday. My hangover’s not up to it.’ Megan sounded tired and a little croaky.

  ‘Heavy night?’

  ‘Yeah, kind of. I went to this launch event with work. I wasn’t going to stay that late, but there was a nail bar and a candy bar and a free bar, and it all got a bit messy.’

  ‘Sounds like it. Any cute guys there?’

  ‘At a beauty do? Oh, please. The only guy I saw all night was the doorman.’ She groaned melodramatically. ‘I think I might have to get back online.’ Megan had been totally addicted to dating apps until the last guy she went out with started sending her snapshots of his manhood. To her work email.

  ‘Really? I thought those photos had put you off for life.’

  ‘I think I was just unlucky there.’

  ‘I’ll say …’

  Megan giggled. ‘So anyway, what did you and your mum get up to this morning? You’d better not have been shopping without me. Did you get the link to that bridesmaid’s dress I sent you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s beautiful. I’ve already ordered it.’

  ‘Great! I thought you’d love it. So how’s your mum? What did I miss?’

  ‘She’s fine. We spent all morning writing the invites, so you didn’t exactly miss much.’

  ‘Fair enough. I’m not sure you’d have got me out of bed for that one.’ She paused. ‘Hey, speaking of invites, what are you wearing to the uni ball?’

  ‘The what?’ Lizzie vaguely recalled seeing an envelope from the alumni association a few weeks ago, but she’d assumed they were asking for money and chucked it in the recycling bin.

  ‘They’re having a big summer reunion for the old students. Remember how much fun we had in the first year, with the fancy dress?’ As young freshers, Megan and Lizzie had already maxed out their student loan by ball week, so they’d simply stripped off their bedsheets and transformed them into Grecian togas. Lizzie felt a little self-conscious until she’d consumed several cocktails, but Megan pulled off the look perfectly and went home with a strapping gladiator.

  ‘I’m not really sure I want to wear my bedding in public again, ta.’

  ‘Don’t worry – this time it’s going to be black tie, so we can get all glammed up. Come round to mine and we’ll raid Lily’s closet.’

  ‘When is it?’

  ‘Next weekend. We are going to go, right?’

  Lizzie’s face fell. She hated to disappoint her best friend, but she really didn’t feel like trying to rekindle their university days right now, especially with so much left to sort out. ‘I’m just not sure I’m going to have time for something like that, Meg, with the wedding only two months away,’ she said softly.

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

  ‘Look, Lizzie,’ said Megan eventually. ‘I know you’re really busy and everything, but it would mean a lot if you’d come to this with me.’

  ‘Why are you so keen to go?’

  ‘I just think it’ll be fun. We can get all dressed up and dance the night away like old times. It’ll be one last girlie night out before the wedding.’

  ‘Er, isn’t that what my hen do’s for?’

  ‘That doesn’t count. You’ll be so drunk you’re not going to remember that one.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t think I’m going to be that—’

  ‘Oh come on, Lizzie, do it for me! Pleeeeeaaase?’

  Lizzie was torn. Megan had been her best friend for years – always ready to pick her up with wine, wisecracks and Sex And The City reruns – so it seemed selfish to refuse her now. On the other hand, she was in no mood to take another trip down memory lane, especially when she was trying so hard to forget about …

  Alex.

  Did he get an invite, too?

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Meg. What if Alex turned up or something? I don’t think I could face running into him.’

  ‘Alex? At a ball? Hardly his thing, is it? He didn’t even go to them when we were at uni.’

  That was true, Lizzie had to admit. Alex liked his gigs. He liked his festivals. But he definitely wasn’t one for getting dressed up in a stuffy dinner suit.

  ‘What if you’re wrong?’

  ‘Look, they’ve hired some stately home for the night, so it’s going to be massive. On the off-chance Alex did turn up, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere near him – you probably wouldn’t even see him. But he won’t bother with something like that, Lizzie. Trust me.’

  ‘Oh … well …’

  ‘Is that a yes?’ Megan on a mission was impossible to resist.

  ‘Alright, yes.’

  ‘Yay, you’re the best!’ Lizzie heard what sounded like clapping down the phone. ‘Honestly, this is going to be so much fun. You’re not going to regret it.’

  Hmmm, groaned Lizzie inwardly. I wouldn’t bet on that.

  10

  6 October 2003

  ‘What are you up to?’ asked Lizzie, itching to remove the blindfold Megan had put on her in the car around 8pm.

  ‘Sorry, I’m under strict orders not to say. Alex made me promise. You’ll find out soon enough.’

  Lizzie knew that they were on the beach, because she could feel the sand seeping into her pumps and hear the gentle lapping of the waves. What she didn’t know was why – or how – Alex had managed to rope Megan into his plan.

  ‘Do we really need the blindfold? It’s dark out already.’ She was shuffling along at a snail’s pace, trying to keep her balance as the soft grains shifted beneath her feet. Every so often, she felt Megan’s hand on her arm, navigating her around a potential pitfall. It was like being on some sort of bizarre team-building challenge.

  ‘Look, that’s what he said, so that’s what I’ve done. It’s all his idea.’

  ‘Alright.’ The salty tang of the sea air was intense as Lizzie breathed it in through her mouth and nostrils. It wasn’t a particularly cold evening, but she was glad she was wearing her denim jacket. ‘Are we nearly there yet?’

  ‘What are you, like, five? I’ll tell you when we’re there.’

  ‘This isn’t some kind of weird sex game, is it?’ joked Lizzie.

  ‘Damn, how did you guess? No, it’s not some weird sex game. Or at least not the part that Alex told me about. What the two of you get up to afterwards is entirely your own business.’

  ‘So why didn’t Alex just come and get me himself?’ She was growing more intrigued by the second.

  ‘What’s with all the questions? It’ll make sense in a minute. Oh, hold on – sandcastle to your right.’ Megan grabbed Lizzie with both hands and steered her out of the way. ‘Hey, that’s quite a good one, actually. Shame you can’t see it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Just then Lizzie heard Alex in the distance: ‘Ladies, over here.’

  ‘Roger that,’ said Megan, in a throaty cop-show voice. ‘This is grey squirrel delivering moonlit badger. I think my work here is done.’

  ‘Thanks, Meg,’ said Alex. ‘I owe you one. Are you alright getting home by yourself?’

  ‘Er, let me see. I’ve managed to get Lizzie all the way down here – blindfolded, no less – without spoiling your surprise, but walking two minutes back to the car park could prove problematic.’

  ‘I take it that’s a yes. But send us a text when you get back.’

  ‘Will do. Have fun, you two.’ Lizzie felt Megan squeeze her arm and make a noise that sounded like an air kiss. Then everything was quiet, apart from the rhythmic swoosh of the ocean.

  ‘Alex? Can I lose the blindfold? I’m starting to feel like I’m in some sort of bad crime drama.’

  ‘Just give me a few more seconds.’ She could feel the warmth of his
body as he moved in closely behind her. ‘Alright, you can take it off now.’

  She removed the blindfold, and for a split second her eyes had to adjust from the darkness to the softly lit scene laid out before her. The night sky was dotted with Chinese lanterns, floating up into the heavens like tiny fireflies beneath the spotlight of the moon. Their gentle glow illuminated the cream picnic blanket spread out on the sand, which was weighed down by a wicker basket bulging with goodies in the top corner. There was even an ice bucket containing a bottle of Sancerre, which she loved but could only occasionally stretch to on her tight student budget.

  ‘Happy anniversary,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘It’s exactly one year ago that we had our first date here. Or sort of here. I didn’t want to tempt fate by going back to that restaurant.’

  Lizzie spun round to face him. ‘You remembered?’

  ‘Of course. Didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes! I just didn’t figure you to be the …’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘You know, the anniversary-celebrating type. You never mentioned it.’

  ‘I wanted to surprise you.’

  ‘Well, you’ve certainly done that. This is amazing.’ She wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘I feel bad I didn’t get you something now.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he replied, pulling her close for a kiss. ‘Just sit with me and let’s crack open this bottle.’ He crouched down on the blanket and she sat beside him, gazing at his silhouette as he pulled a penknife from his jeans pocket, uncorked the wine and poured it into two glasses. He handed one to her and raised the other in a toast. ‘To us,’ he said simply.

  ‘To us,’ she said, taking a sip of the chilled Sancerre. ‘Alright then, don’t keep a girl in suspense. What other goodies have you got in there?’

  ‘Let’s see …’ He folded the knife away. ‘There’s some French bread and some of that brie you like, and some posh crisps—’

  ‘What flavour?’

  ‘Sea salt and vinegar.’

  ‘Excellent choice. My favourite.’

  ‘Yes, I do pay attention, believe it or not. And then for dessert I’ve got fresh strawberries and some chocolate brownies.’