London Calling (29 page)

“Are you going to be more trouble than you’re worth?” she said. I looked into her eyes.

“I’m going to really work hard on being trouble-free from now on,” I said. I leaned in to kiss her and she let me, which was a good sign. I stood back and assessed.

“We okay?”

She nodded slowly. “We’re okay.”

“Great, because the taxi’s coming in five minutes and we have a wedding to go to.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Despite Julia’s protestations of hating weddings, I didn’t think I’d ever seen a more radiant bride. She floated down the aisle in her white satin and lace dress, and seeing two people I cared about deeply saying ‘I do’ made me realise that not all weddings were bad. They were two of my closest friends and I couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Lucy squeezed my hand tight during the vows which I took as a good sign that Karen was forgiven, if not forgotten. Julia caught my eye and winked as she walked down the aisle with her new husband and a photobook flashed through my mind of all the times we’d spent together and our friendship, which had lasted over 20 years.

Outside, I hugged her parents and introduced them to Lucy, then fell in with Matt and Natalie, Andy and Jason. We stood in the foyer of the grand old town hall and watched the happy couple pose for pictures, parents and immediate family looking on proudly, cousins looking detached and disinterested. After 20 minutes we trooped out onto the huge concrete steps and into the sunshine, breathing in the traffic fumes from the Euston Road.

“Bloody starving,” Jason said, looking at his watch. He looked dapper in a dark grey suit with paisley grey cravat. He was also wearing black shoes that were shined as if he were in the army.

“Terrible time for a wedding, lunchtime. Do you think they’re going to feed us soon?”

“Think of the calories you’re not ingesting,” I said.

“I can’t, I’m too hungry.”

“You’re such a bad gay.”

“And we had a big breakfast,” Andy said.

His boyfriend looked suave too although he’d favoured a baby blue suit with matching tie, cream shirt and cream shoes which looked expensively Italian and probably were. In a break for individuality, Andy had shaved off his goatee too, meaning the pair looked less a homogenous mass and more two stylish queens.

“Four hours ago that was,” Jason said. His whining made both Lucy and I smirk.

“Well you should have brought that banana shouldn’t you? I believe I did mention it when we were leaving the house.” Andy rolled his eyes as Jason sighed. “Anyway, it’s your appetite that nearly meant you couldn’t get into that suit. So remember, dust is your friend. Eat dust.”

“I don’t think a banana would have cut it – and bugger dust, I’m in the suit now,” Jason said. “Anyway, let’s talk about something other than food. What do you do, Lucy? And don’t say you’re a chef.”

“I’m a chef,” she said. I sniggered.

“You’re not are you?”

She shook her head, laughing.

“She’s good,” Jason said.

“I know,” I said. I put my hand around Lucy’s waist.

“I’m an optician,” Lucy said.

Jason raised his eyebrows in approval.

“Lawyers, opticians, you get them all don’t you,” he told me. Andy stamped on his foot.

“Ow!” he said. “What was that for?”

“So how long have you two been seeing each other?” Andy said, changing the subject.

“Not long, a couple of weeks,” I said.

“Ah, young love. We were like that once weren’t we dear?”

“Yes, when you didn’t used to beat me up.” Jason was still hopping on one foot and looked wounded.

“So hard done by,” Andy said.

Julia interrupted which I was grateful for after Jason’s bungling attempts at conversation. She told us to get over the road if we wanted canapés before Tom’s family scoffed the lot. Jason didn’t need telling twice, attempting to cross the Euston Road Frogger-style before realising his mistake and walking to the crossing like the rest of us.

***

Once at the hotel, we were shown through to the special wedding suite and greeted with champagne and canapés by waiters attired in black and gold – this was more like it. Huge chandeliers hung along the centre of the room and everything seemed to sparkle – table settings, flowers, candles, the works.

Sunflowers were spread throughout the room and on every circular table, with all the chairs covered in white fabric and golden bows to match. Even the wooden floorboards seemed to shimmer as sunlight splattered itself over them, lighting up the room and the atmosphere.

I spied our cake over to the side, its virgin icing looking regal and for all the world a fruit cake but I knew the truth. It was surrounded by tiers of our golden and white cupcakes and even I had to admit it looked impressive. We both grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter along with a mini-Yorkshire pudding smeared with horseradish and topped with beef. I allowed Lucy to steer me to the seats by the far window, shaking off our entourage in one swift move.

“I just need to sit down a minute, these heels are killing me,” she said.

“Already?”

“I think they need adjusting. Or maybe I shouldn’t have worn new shoes.”

My heart leapt as she sat down beside me and steadied herself on my knee: her touch did things to me I never remembered happening before. I ate my canapé, wiping my hand on the serviette and then stroking Lucy’s back. She fixed her heel back into place, then kissed me briefly, before sitting back, legs crossed and exposed, sipping her champagne. Her skin looked silky smooth and my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to it.

“Pretty fancy, eh?” she said, her eyes sweeping the venue. “The last wedding I went to was in a hall in Hull.”

“You don’t get much fancier than this. This is where footballers get married,” I said.

“Do you think there’ll be thrones?”

“We can only hope. There was a mention of a wedding singer, which I’m hoping proves true.”

“Well it’s a thumbs-up to free champagne.” She paused. “Do we know who’s on our table?”

“I think Andy and Jason, Matt and Natalie and some of Julia’s nicer cousins. At least she promised me they would be the nicer ones.”

“That’s bad.”

“Why?”

“They all drink. You don’t want that at a wedding, you want a few tee-total aunts on your table or at least a pregnant couple where the man has to not drink too out of sympathy,” Lucy said.

“Don’t think any of my aunts are tee-total I can promise you. You’ll just have to flash your cleavage at our waiter and I’m sure he’ll bring us more wine if we run out.”

Lucy slapped my leg, then looked serious for a moment.

“What?” I said. She frowned, shook her head and turned to look at the crowd again. I nudged her.

“What?”

“Nothing…”

“Tell me.” She sighed and swivelled to face me.

“It’s just… Are you sure Karen just turned up this morning. Nothing else to it? Nothing you want to tell me?”

I shook my head. “Nope, nothing else, I told you.”

“She didn’t show up to try to win you back?”

I shifted in my seat, then took Lucy’s hand. “Who knows why she showed up, I gave up trying to read her long ago. But she did and I told her to go away. That’s it.”

“You sure?”

I held Lucy’s gaze, the last couple of weeks whizzing through my brain.

“You’re the only woman I want. Truly.”

It didn’t matter if Karen showed up on my doorstep every day – Lucy was the one I wanted now. There had plenty of times when Karen would have been welcomed but not now. Besides, I was sure she’d soon have bigger fish to fry – she normally did. She hadn’t stopped chasing what she couldn’t have, which was always the biggest prize.

Lucy hadn’t taken her eyes from me. I loved this woman and she was sitting here asking me if everything was okay with us. All because of Karen. Damn her. I needed to reassure Lucy. Needed to let her know the truth. Surely she knew the truth by now? We hadn’t verbalised it, but the feelings were on show for everyone to see. I locked her gaze once more and cleared my throat. If you can’t tell someone you love them at a wedding, when can you?

“Lucy, I…”

“There you are! Sitting down already?” Matt’s voice boomed out beside us shattering the moment. I looked up and smiled weakly.

“Not interrupting are we?”

Lucy and I shook our heads rapidly, overcompensating for the moment that was now gone.

“No, all good. Just getting a bit soppy with all the romance around us,” I said. I squeezed Lucy’s hand and took a sip of her drink. “Tell you later,” I mouthed. She smiled.

Weddings seemed to bring out the best in people, with everyone looking like they’d just stepped off the pages of Vogue. Even jeans-and-polo-shirt Matt looked suitably stylish, with a black suit, crisp white shirt and black tie, going for the rock star minimalist look. It suited him. Meanwhile, Natalie looked radiant in a blue and cream number beside him.

“So the cake looks good,” Matt said.

“We haven’t tasted it yet,” I replied.

I spotted Julia honing into view so I waved over Matt’s shoulder. She made her way towards us, raising her eyebrows to the heavens in the manner of a super-diva.

“How are we? All good?”

“We’re great darling,” I said.

“How are the canapés? Taste all right?”

“Wonderful,” I said. “You’ve got an eyelash just there,” I told her, pointing under my right eye. She went to her left. “Other side… Got it.”

“Good,” she said. “Look at all these bloody people! At my bloody wedding!” We all laughed.

“It’s going really well,” I said. “And you look beautiful.” She blushed and smiled at me.

“This place looks amazing too,” said Matt. “They’ve done a great job.”

Julia nodded, assessing the venue.

“Yeah they have haven’t they? Mind you, they should the price they charge… Well, I better go circulate – apparently everyone wants to talk to me, no idea why.” She scanned the room. “Have you seen the champagne man?”

Lucy spotted him out of the corner of her eye. She slid sideways to pluck a fresh glass from his tray and delivered it to Julia’s hand.

“I like her a lot, have I mentioned that?” Julia said, before floating off to the next group in a cloud of white lace.

***

I guessed there were around 80 guests invited to the wedding, who all played their part in creating a picture-postcard wedding vista of love and romance in an opulent setting.

As we sat down I looked over to the top table where Julia and Tom were grinning at each other, their magnum of Verve Clicquot diminishing by the second. Jason stopped griping once the food came out and Julia’s cousins turned out to be a hoot, along with her Aunt Dawn and Uncle Alan who seemed inordinately excited to be on a table with a lesbian couple and a gay couple.

“So terribly London!” I heard her telling her husband with a thrilled look on her face. Alan went on to describe three other gay people he knew in his life, all very decent sorts he was pleased to report.

“The thing with lesbians these days though is that it’s a choice, isn’t it?” he said. “I mean, time was when the uglier women chose that route because women are so much more accommodating and can look past appearances. But look at you – you’re not at all ugly, you don’t have to be a lesbian, it’s what you want to be. And I think that’s great,” he said.

“Yes, it’s all sorts these days, Alan – not just those with mullets and motorbikes,” I said. As expected, the irony passed him by.

“Exactly!” he said. “And you’re not a mechanic or a labourer – you’re a baker!” he said, his eyes bulging at the fact that a lesbian could bake. Alan took a bite of his dessert to calm himself down and I followed suit, wondering where the conversation was heading next.

“And what does your friend do?” He nodded towards Lucy.

“She’s an optician.”

“You see,” Alan said, astounded. “Takes all sorts. Just wonderful.”

I looked around just to check I wasn’t being filmed for some candid camera joke, but apparently I wasn’t. Alan was not a figment of my imagination and he really did say all of those things.

***

On the way to the loo Julia waved and beckoned me over. I pitched up in front of the giddy bride on her big day, the toxic mix of wine, champagne and bonhomie working their magic.

“How’s it all going? How’s the food and your table? I gave you one nearby so you’d get served quickly,” she said.

“Great. And your Uncle Alan – he’s a rare find. Him and Dawn think they’re sitting with London’s A-gays like they’re in the pages of some Saturday supplement.”

“Glad he’s being entertaining. I thought he might be,” she said.

“He told me he thinks it’s great that lesbians don’t have to be ugly anymore.”

“Oh my god!” Tom said, covering his face with his hands while Julia threw back her head with laughter.

“I love him! I love him even more now. How great are Alan and Dawn? I wanted to have them on the top table with us but Tom told me that wasn’t protocol.”

A waiter drew up beside me, placing full glasses of champagne along the top table. I shifted my head left.

“I better go to the loo before the speeches start,” I said.

The toilets were posh and full of jauntily-angled mirrors as I expected. I dried my hands on a proper mini hand towel, putting it in the dark wicker bin provided – “imagine the laundry bill” my mum’s voice chimed in my head. Smoothing down my trousers in one of the full-length mirrors, I decided the scorecard didn’t read too badly. My hair was still fairly buoyant, my make-up in place and the spot count was zero. No wonder Karen had looked so dejected when I told her to bugger off, on top of Lucy turning up looking stunning.

I allowed myself a smile as I took a deep breath and got back out there, sliding into the seat beside Lucy just as Julia’s dad was clearing his throat to start the speeches.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The disco got started around 7.30pm. By that time, my tie was loose around my neck and Lucy had abandoned her heels.

“Going ethnic,” she said, whatever that meant. We put our bags and redundant shoes under our table and went for a boogie as
YMCA
came on, at which time half the wedding decided to do the same which I knew would appal Julia. She’d tried to stipulate no cheese for the first half of the disco but I’d told her if she wanted people to dance, that was the wedding law.