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Authors: Mo Fanning

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BOOK: The Armchair Bride
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Twenty seven

A small crowd gathers round the gates of St. Peter’s church. I’ve not been near the place in years and there’s more litter than I remember. This was where I smoked my first cigarette and drank sweet cider while a fourteen-year-old Peter Carr tried to inexpertly grope my adolescent breasts.

‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ Helen says as the car crunches up the gravel path.

‘It’s nerves,’ I say. ‘Once you get inside and they start playing
Here Comes the Bride
, you’ll be fine.’

In amongst the happy faces I spot Ginny. She’s wearing a tight red dress and a black hat topped off with a white feather.

‘So much for having a conscience,’ Helen says.

‘She might as well have written
look at me
on a sign and hung it round her scrawny neck,’ I sigh. ‘Who’s that she’s with?’

Helen squints. ‘Bloody hell. That’s Jason. Her husband. She must be back with him.’

‘He looks a hundred.’

‘He’s younger than us.’

When the car stops, everyone cheers and Helen’s mother runs over. Her eyes are wild. Clearly something is wrong.

‘Go round again,’ she says. ‘Jamie isn’t here yet. Their car had a puncture. They’re stuck on the ring road.’

‘How will we know when to come back?’ Helen says.

‘Let me out,’ I say. ‘Park round the corner and keep your mobile on and I’ll ring you when they get here.’

They pull away, leaving me to make small talk with Helen’s guests. There’s a crunch of gravel and a whiff of expensive perfume. I know it’s her, but don’t look around. She can speak first.

‘You made it then,’ Ginny says. ‘How lovely to see you back on home ground, is your husband parking the car?’

Why bother with an answer. I shake my head and walk away to join a group of old school friends. Except she won’t give up. I hear her behind, matching me step for step. As a child, she was a spiteful piece of work, lacking in grace and self awareness. Nobody wanted her to play with them or join in their games. We just did it because she was the school bully. It was easier than getting beaten up. But we’re all grown up now.

I stop and turn to face her.

‘Can I help you Ginny?’

She looks surprised. The whole following me round thing seems to have been the extent of her plan. She hasn’t worked out what to say if challenged.

‘Well can I?’ I say and she looks me up and down.

‘You know ,’ she says. ‘When Helen suggested ivory for the dresses, I warned her. It can be
so
draining on many people, especially those with a pale skin. I said the last thing you want is your matron of honour looking like a huge carrot-topped freckle.’

‘Why don’t you just piss off,’ I say. ‘We’re not at school now. Everyone knows about the cleaning job. You’re a joke, Ginny. Stop making it worse. Go home. You’re not wanted here.’

Her face changes. My words look to have hit home, but she’s quickly back and trying to get one over on me.

‘I’m with my husband,’ she says. ‘He’s real. Who are you with?’

Someone calls my name. It’s Brian. Ginny’s face falls.

‘What’s he doing here? Surely he’s not with you ...’

The two girls from my class who’ve been watching our exchange are staring too. And it’s like I’m seeing Brian as others do. For the first time. And I suppose he
is
quite a catch. Tall without being lanky, handsome without being craggy and has the sort of smile you usually see on superhero posters. Then there are his eyes. And that mouth. Lips that I know I need to kiss.

But there’s that email and the way he lied to me. He could have just said he’d read it, not make me think it was still a stupid secret.

He slips one arm around me, I don’t reciprocate.

‘Where’s Helen?’ he says.

‘She’s had to go round again,’ I say and I know I sound a bit cold. ‘The bridegroom’s had a puncture.’

‘How lovely of you to bring your boss,’ Ginny interrupts.

‘I’m not her boss,’ Brian says. ‘I’m her lover.’

I stare. Where the hell did that come from?

He places his lips on mine and locks me in a kiss. Far more public than anything before. I resist for just a second.

‘Charming,’ Ginny mutters and when I open my eyes, she’s gone. Brian pulls me to one side.

‘When did you read it?’ I say.

‘What, oh the email? I don’t know about thirty seconds after you wrote it, I suppose.’

‘And you didn’t think to say. Actually, worse than that. You lied to me. When I asked if you’d read any messages from me, you said no.’

‘What would you rather I did, tell everyone what you’d said.’

‘Well no, I suppose not but ...’

‘I was going to wait until after the wedding, but I can’t spend the whole weekend being this close to the woman I think I’m in love with and not be allowed to touch her. I figured if you were happy to take a chance, I should too.’

‘Lisa!’

I look round and see Andy heading our way dressed in a morning suit.

‘What are
you
doing here?’ I say.

‘A promise is a promise.’

He notices Brian’s hand in mine.

‘About bloody time too. Which one is Ginny?’

I point her out. She’s over by the church gates talking to the vicar. Something about their body language suggests trouble.

‘I’ve seen drag queens with better make-up and that dress is at least two sizes too small,’ he says and turns to Brian. ‘Congratulations on snagging the oldest swinger in town. I hope you’ll be very happy together.’

I’m chatting to Helen’s mum when the vicar comes over.

‘I’m terribly sorry to trouble you,’ he says. ‘But I’ve been told that there might not actually be a wedding today.’

We both look stunned.

‘Yes,’ he continues. ‘Apparently the groom is having second thoughts. I really must say it’s a terribly bad show and much as I sympathise, I need to know what’s going on. I’ve a confirmation at four.’

‘Who told you?’ I say.

‘A rather charming young lady in a red dress.’

‘Ginny,’ I mutter.

Helen’s mother looks ready to burst into tears.

‘Leave this to me,’ I say. ‘And ignore anything she’s told you. The wedding goes ahead as planned.’

Ginny is getting into her big car when I grab her arm.

‘What the ...’ she hisses and turns around. Her face lights up in a smile. ‘Oh my, has the worm finally turned?’

‘Why did you lie to the vicar?’ I say and she shrugs.

‘No seriously,’ I say. ‘What do you gain by being such a complete and utter cunt?’

I no longer care. A floodgate is open and I plan to make up for years of allowing myself to think she’s better than me. The past few weeks have been anything but fun and she’s to blame.

‘Could we perhaps take this somewhere a little more private?’ she says.

‘Why? Why don’t we have it all out right here? I thought public humiliation was what you did best.’

People are staring. The look on Helen’s mum’s face is enough to make me grab Ginny.

‘Inside,’ I say. ‘We need to sort this out once and for all.’

Perched on the edge of a pew, she folds her arms and looks me up and down.

‘I’m ready for whatever you have to say.’

‘I shouldn’t have stopped you leaving,’ I say. ‘For once you were about to do the right thing. Nobody wants you here.’

‘I’m glad she’s here.’ A male voice says. ‘I’m really glad she’s here today. It’s made my fucking year.’

A skinny, unshaven guy with blonde unkempt hair stands in the doorway.

‘Ian.’

Even under thick make-up, Ginny’s face turns pale.

He closes the door and shuts out the day.

‘What?’ he says. ‘Don’t I at least get a hello.’

Ginny’s arms stay tightly folded.

‘I’m sure you’re breaking some kind of parole order,’ she spits. ‘I only need to call the police and you’ll be right back inside. Where you belong.’

She pulls out her phone.

Ian pulls out a gun.

Twenty eight

Ian waves the gun and orders me to sit before his attention turns to Ginny, placing the gun against the side of her head.

‘You’re not good enough to get somewhere to sit,’ he says. ‘Get down on your knees.’

Every part of her shakes as she crouches.

When at his feet, he positions the gun between her eyes and we both gasp.

‘I’m sure we can talk about this,’ she manages to say.

‘Shut the fuck up, you slag. Just shut the fuck up.’

‘I loved you Ian. You know that.’

‘Shut up. Everybody shut up.’

Ian’s voice echoes around the empty church and it seems like forever before anyone speaks again.

‘How does it feel being on your knees?’ Ian says. ‘Remember the last time? You said your husband wouldn’t be back for hours. Then fuck me, if he didn’t pull into the drive as you were doing your stuff.’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

Her voice sounds tiny.

‘Christ almighty Ginny. We were going to run off together. You were going to dump him. I was prepared to up and leave my mum on her own, turn my back on Jenny, ditch my kids. All of that for you. And then you decided you’d had enough. Just like that. No warning.’

‘I was never going to go anywhere with you,’ Ginny says. ‘Whatever gave you that idea? What we had was a bit of fun. We agreed.’

It’s like I hear the slap before it happens, and the blow sends her flying. Ginny hits her head off a pew and for a moment doesn’t move.

‘Is she dead?’ I say and Ian laughs.

‘It’ll take more than that to kill her.’

He aims his boot right into her stomach and her eyes open.

‘I couldn’t buy you a Porsche or new tits, could I?’ he says. ‘I couldn’t give you the expensive holidays or the fancy clothes and jewelry.’

Ginny isn’t moving, she’s hardly breathing.

‘Answer me,’ Ian roars and gets down on the floor, his face up next to hers.

‘I couldn’t afford to pay for a private clinic, could I?’ he says. ‘A nice clean bed for you to lie in while they sucked our kid away.’

Ginny lifts her head, but her eyes stay closed.

‘It wasn’t like that,’ she says.

‘What was it like then? You tell me Ginny, because I’d love to know.’

It’s like they’ve forgotten I’m here. I could sneak away and get help. But that would be wrong. No matter what’s she’s done, this isn’t what Ginny deserves. Maybe if I can distract Ian.

‘Is all of  this true?’ I say and he looks up.

‘Of course it isn’t true,’ Ginny whispers.

The church doors open and the vicar appears.

‘Right ladies,’ he says briskly. ‘The groom is here, I think it’s time to get this show …’

His voice trails away as he takes in the scene.

Ian pushes the gun once more against Ginny’s head.

‘Get Jenny here now, and tell her to bring the kids.’

‘Jenny?’ The vicar looks perplexed.

‘My fucking wife. I want her hear what this bitch has to say. She split us up and she’s the only one who can get us back together.’

The vicar backs quickly away, to leave us alone.

Ian lowers the gun and sits on the floor. Ginny doesn’t move.

‘And now, ladies,’ he says. ‘The waiting begins.’

It seems like hours since the crunch of  gravel signalled cars driving away. It’s silent outside. Even the birds seem to have given up on singing. Ian isn’t happy.

‘What’s keeping her?’ he says.

‘Think about it,’ Ginny says. ‘The police will have cleared the area. There’s a madman in the church waving a gun about?’

A smile spreads across Ian’s face. ‘Fame at last.’

My blood boils.

‘You can’t go holding people at gunpoint and expect everyone to dance to your tune,’ I say.

Ian turns his anger on me. But I’m not scared. Up close he looks so worn out.

‘What exactly would you know about what’s been going on in my life?’ he says and it sounds so pathetic.

‘What would you know about mine?’ I say. ‘And what about Ginny? Maybe she
did
have other things going on when you asked her to run away? And yes, she probably did some stupid things. Maybe you both did. What if you’re as much to blame?’

At first he doesn’t speak, and the words when they come are barely whispered.

‘I thought
we
were friends.’

‘Friends don’t point guns.’

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘You already have,’ I say. ‘Can’t you see that?’

He stares at the floor and the gun slips from his hand. I could so easily reach over and take it away.

‘It’ll be OK,’ I say. ‘We all need to go outside and say you made a mistake.’

‘A mistake?’

‘Yeah. That’s all it was. A silly mistake that got out of hand. You’re right Ian. I
am
your friend.’

I’ve done it. Lisa Doyle, hero of the hour. I’ve talked him down. And yet it doesn’t feel like any kind of victory. Two people whose lives are in tatters, trying to knock chunks out of each other and almost catching me in the crossfire.

‘The police will understand,’ I say and reach for his hand.

But he doesn’t reach for mine, instead he grab the gun and turns it on me.

‘Friends are there for each other no matter what,’ he says. ‘They listen. They go out of their way to make sure everything is OK. They don’t ignore them. If that’s being a friend, I’d rather not bother, thank you very fucking much.’

‘I didn’t know what to write,’ I say. ‘I hadn’t even thought about you for years. When I agreed to get in touch, I was drunk.’

Anger flashes across his face.

‘You were
pissed
?’

Even I have to admit my choice of words is stupid, given the whole gunpoint hostage situation, but an unexpected rush of righteous anger has hold. I’m not going to let Ian twist things.

I’m not the bad guy here.

‘I still wrote to you, didn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to.’

‘You’re not helping your case,’ Ginny says.

Ian waves the gun at Ginny, as if ordering her to get closer to me. She shuffles to her feet and sits without a word.

‘Let’s get a few things straight’ he says. ‘You and me, Lisa, we’ve got history. We were mates at school. That’s why I asked Bernie to get in touch. Nothing more. I was in a mess and she thought it would be better if I had someone to talk to. Somebody who knew me when I wasn’t such a complete fuck up. You weren’t the only one she spoke to, but you
were
the only one who agreed. I thought perhaps that meant something. Seems I was wrong.’

I say nothing out of fear that words could launch another shouting match.

He nods towards Ginny. ‘
She’s
something else.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ she groans. ‘Give it a bloody rest. It takes two to tango.’

‘It takes two to make a child too,’ Ian spits back. ‘And one heartless cow to kill it.’

Silence.

‘Didn’t Ginny tell you, Lisa?’ Ian’s face lights up. ‘Didn’t she tell you about the child we were going to have? The little girl.’

‘You don’t know it was a girl,’ she says.

‘It
was
a fucking girl.’

Once more, the barrel of the gun is pressed against her head.

‘I’ll tell her the story, shall I?’ he says and Ginny doesn’t even open her eyes.

‘Once upon a time there were two people, Jenny and Ian. They’d been happy for years, got two lovely kids, but then when money got a bit tight, they went through a rough patch. Ian worked all the hours God sent at a shitty chip shop on Breedon Lane. Do you know the one I mean, Lisa?’

I nod.

‘She knows the one I mean Gin,’ he says. ‘That’s good isn’t it?’

Ginny doesn’t answer and so he continues.

‘Where was I? Oh yes, well there we were just about making ends meet when Jenny had her hours cut. I started working at the golf club, mostly behind the bar. That’s when I met her ladyship.’

Ginny gives Ian a tight smile.

‘At first, she was like all the other snooty mares. Looking down on me, expecting me to fetch and carry.’

‘You were the one who started it,’ Ginny says. ‘You were the one who kissed me.’

‘And I’ve paid for that ever since, haven’t I?’

He turns his attention back to me.

‘You know how it is when you work behind a bar. One night there was a lock in. I was told to look after her husband and his mates. They were drinking like it was going out of fashion, and that’s when she took pity on me.’

‘Took pity?’ I say.

‘She reckoned I was being worked too hard.’ he looks at Ginny. ‘Heart of gold, this one. Only it wasn’t the beer pumps she wanted to pull, was it, Gin?’

‘I was drunk,’ she says.

‘Sounds like I should get more women drunk, it makes them feel sorry for me.’

I hang my head in shame.

‘That was the first time, then of course she started showing up at the chip shop at closing time. Hanging round the golf club bar. One thing led to another and we ended up seeing each other.’

‘Oh stop,’ Ginny says. ‘You make it sound like something romantic. We ended up banging each other’s brains out. I was bored. You were available. End of.’

I sense a change in the balance of power.

‘You never complained at the time,’ he says.

‘Maybe I should have. It’s not as if I had my mouth full.’

Ian spits in Ginny’s face and saliva runs down her cheek.

‘You killed our child,’ he says.

‘There was no bloody child.’

Her voice sounds both angry and weary.

‘I wasn’t pregnant. How could I be? I had a hysterectomy six months before. That’s why Jason and I were having such a bad time. He wanted kids. Do you know what he did when I told him why I couldn’t have kids, when I told him how I’d nearly died of cancer, that the doctors gave me a choice, give up kids or die?’

Ian doesn’t speak.

‘My charming husband said I should have taken my chances. And then he walked out. Nice, eh? Of course he came back with his tail between his legs. He’s that sort of man. Spineless.’

She looks up at Ian.

‘It’s like I have a type. You came along at the right time, just when all I wanted was someone to listen and hold me. Someone who didn’t think I’d be better off dead.’

He stares at the floor.

‘You
told
me there was a child,’ Ian says. ‘I was going to leave my family to be with you.’

‘You wouldn’t have left them though Not really. We both know that, don’t we? What we had, well it wasn’t anything special, was it?’

‘You told me you’d had an abortion.’

‘Oh do keep up,’ Ginny snaps. ‘I
told
you what you wanted to hear. It’s what I do. Ask Lisa. She expects me to be a bitch, so that’s who I become.’

I feel my face prickle.

‘Jason hasn’t got a backbone,’ she said. ‘The day he walked out on me, his father hit the roof and told him he’d cut him off if he didn’t go back. I’d have loved to slam the door in both their stupid faces, but I needed the money too. Somehow I’d stopped being myself and turned into a kept woman.’

‘I’d have looked after you.’

‘We didn’t have any future. I’d already lied to you about losing the baby. You can’t build a house on a pile of broken sticks. And even if you had got the balls to leave your wife and kids, they’d still be there in the background, draining every bit of spare money.’

‘Is that all that matters to you?’ Ian says. ‘The money?’

‘Truthfully.’ She shrugs. ‘Yes.’

Ian puts down the gun.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I got it all wrong.’

Someone hammers on the church doors.

There’s a crackle and an amplified voice fills the space.

‘This is the police. We’re here to help Mr. Tyler. We only want to talk to you.’

Ian reaches for Ginny’s hand. They kiss so briefly and he looks like he might be ready to give in.

And then he picks up the gun again.

‘Both of you. On the fucking floor.’

BOOK: The Armchair Bride
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