Читать книгу Substitute Bride - Angela Devine - Страница 7

LAURA’S stomach gave a sickening lurch and she stared at him in alarm, momentarily diverted from her unwelcome attraction to him. Obviously he had guessed that she wasn’t Bea and now he wanted an explanation. Well, the only thing she could do was to give him one, apologise abjectly and leave as soon as possible. She only hoped that he wouldn’t take his anger out on her sister once he learnt what they had done.

‘Look, I can see you’ve realised that something is seriously wrong,’ she began awkwardly. ‘You must feel that I’m here under false pretences, but I—’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ he cut in. ‘After all, Sam is legally an adult and he has a perfect right to marry you. I also know from his telephone conversations that he’s head over heels in love with you. What worries me is what you’re hoping to get out of it, Bea.’

Bea. So he hadn’t guessed at all. Laura’s wildly beating heart slowly subsided to its normal rhythm, although she still felt shaken. She stared at James in dismay, feeling as if her brain had turned to cotton wool. What on earth was she supposed to say now?

‘There’s no need to look at me as if I’m an executioner!’ he continued impatiently. ‘It’s just that if you’re marrying Sam, I want to know more about you. And for heaven’s sake tell me the truth!’

‘What do you mean?’ blurted out Laura.

‘I mean, what do you want out of life? What motivates you? What’s your greatest need?’

Something in the urgency of his voice mesmerised her, so that she was unable to lie. A wry smile twisted her lips as she gazed into the dark tunnel of her past. Memories came crowding back to her—of the first frozen grief after her mother’s death, her dogged determination to look after Bea and not be parted from her, her decision that she would work hard and be responsible and make a future for them both. She gave a faint, mirthless whisper of laughter.

‘Security,’ she said.

She saw a brief flash of hostility in James’s eyes, but he nodded his head.

‘Well, that’s honest at all events,’ he retorted. ‘And marrying is certainly one way of getting it. But these days most girls train for a career as well, just in case Mr Wonderful doesn’t show up. Were you so certain of your charms that you didn’t feel the need to train for anything?’

Laura flinched.

‘I did!’ she exclaimed hotly. ‘I—’

She broke off, remembering too late that she was supposed to be Bea.

‘You did what, exactly?’

‘I studied horticulture for a while.’

‘So you have a diploma?’ he demanded.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I dropped out,’ she said, with a defiant lift of her chin.

‘I see. And what did you do then? Start looking round immediately for a rich husband?’

‘No!’ flared Laura, distractedly trying to remember exactly what Bea had done. There had been a period on the dole, a brief job as a croupier in a casino and a year on a working holiday, where the work had been mostly making beds in motels or waitressing in crummy cafés. Hastily she decided not to mention any of that. ‘I got a job in a dress shop and then they asked me to do some catwalk modelling and suddenly my career took off. It was just luck, really.’

‘You rely a lot on luck, don’t you?’ said James in a hard voice. ‘As far as I can see, it was also just luck that Sam fell in love with you. Are you going to depend on luck to make your marriage work too?’

His sarcasm was so burning that Laura felt shrivelled by it. For several moments she looked at him in dismay, unable to find any sensible answer. At last she dropped her gaze, unable to offer any adequate defence.

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ she whispered.

‘I don’t hate you,’ he snapped. ‘I simply think that you’re young and naïve and capable of doing a great deal of harm. What’s more, I’d like to make you think before it’s too late. You’re…how old? Twenty-three? And Sam’s twenty-four! Well, to me you seem very young, and from all I’ve heard about you you’re also very immature. I simply don’t think it’s a good idea for you to rush into marriage. In my opinion you should wait until you’re older and until you’ve known each other longer. You don’t have the experience to see the pitfalls of what you’re doing, but I do.’

‘What pitfalls?’ demanded Laura.

To her dismay he stepped forward and seized her by the shoulders. The room seemed to spin around her and for one wild moment she stood motionless, trapped by the hypnotic golden intensity of his gaze. A shameful rush of desire surged through her at his touch, so hot and raw and primitive that she was shocked by it. Try as she might, she could not shut out her unbearable awareness of his masculinity, of the heat and power and size of him as he loomed above her. His fingers bit into her flesh, making her feel soft and boneless. She took a shallow, fluttering breath and fought down an insane urge to wind her arms around his neck and lift her parted lips to his.

Darting him a panicky glance from under half closed eyelids, she saw that he was fully aware of her response to him. Not only that, but he clearly revelled in it. The amusement that curled his lips sent a hot flush of embarrassment flooding into her cheeks. Why was he doing this? Did he feel an equal measure of desire for her? Or was he simply trying to make a fool of her?

‘Let’s start with the pitfalls of attraction to another man,’ he murmured tauntingly. ‘You’re so young and impressionable. What will you do, Bea, when you find yourself uncontrollably attracted to somebody else, as I’m sure you will?’

The way he had drawled the words ‘somebody else’ left her in no doubt of his meaning. That hoarse, smoky baritone was so blatantly suggestive that she could have slapped his face. How could he humiliate her like this, especially when he thought she was about to marry Sam? And why did he have to degrade her so pitilessly by gloating over her reaction to him? Didn’t he have any compassion at all? And how could she still feel this treacherous yearning for him, when she resented him so much?

Suddenly Laura lost her temper, and her anger with herself was transformed into fury with James. Breaking free of his hold, she stepped back a pace and glared at him.

‘You pompous brute!’ she shouted and then paused, struggling incoherently for speech. She couldn’t tell him the truth—that she despised him for his prejudice towards Bea and for the insulting way he was playing sexual games with her. But she could, and would, tell him what she thought of his own attitudes and values! Who was he to lay down the law to her when his own love life was nothing to be proud of?

She took a deep breath and her words came out in an angry torrent. ‘I may be young, but I’m not stupid. And where has your precious wisdom and experience got you? Just tell me that! You must be at least thirty-five years old, but you’re not happily married, are you? So what use was all your caution to you? If you ask me, the best thing you can do in relationships is to trust your instincts, close your eyes and jump! All right, you might get hurt, you might even hurt somebody else. But at least you’ll be alive and feeling and breathing and knowing what it means to be in love, not just playing it safe. In my opinion, you’re the one who’s naïve if you think you can get a guarantee of happiness just by refusing to take any risks!’

Her own vehemence astonished her, and she tried to tell herself that she was only expressing Bea’s philosophy of life, but that didn’t seem to explain why her outburst had left her so agitated. She saw that James was staring at her with mild amazement and she folded her arms around her body and took deep, calming breaths. Too late, she realised how heated she had been and a pang of guilt went through her.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that,’ she muttered. ‘I’m a guest in your house and it was very rude. Please forgive me.’

He shrugged, as if her outburst hadn’t troubled him in the least. Her stinging attack on his own way of life seemed to have left him completely unmoved. The faint, flickering smile on his lips didn’t waver for an instant as he returned her gaze. Then he spoke in a measured tone, as if he were thinking aloud.

‘There’s just one thing that puzzles me about you, Beatrice. You virtually admitted to me earlier that you weren’t in love with Sam and that you were only concerned with security, and yet you’ve just treated me to a passionate outburst in favour of falling in love and taking risks in relationships. Isn’t that rather a contradiction? Can you explain it to me?’

Laura’s mouth opened and closed as if she were a stranded goldfish. Yes, it was a contradiction, although she probably could explain it if she simply told the truth. All she had to say was a few, simple sentences. Bea is in love with Sam, but I’m not. I care about security, but she doesn’t. She believes in taking risks, but I don’t. When I was shouting so passionately about love, I was simply being her mouthpiece, saying what she’d say if she were here. Or was I? Is it possible that I really believe all that stuff about risk-taking myself deep down? She stared at James with a stricken expression, appalled by this moment of self-discovery.

‘The truth is that there are times when I don’t even know what I want myself,’ she muttered, dropping her eyes. ‘Times when I don’t even know who I really am.’

She found that he was towering over her again and that his hand was lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him, forcing her to see the strange, fierce expression in his tawny eyes. His thumb touched her cheekbone, caressing the skin in a slow whorl as he looked down at her.

‘Then I think you ought to find out before you get married next week,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Don’t you?’

Every nerve in her body seemed to jangle as she felt anew that hot, unwelcome thrill of physical attraction towards him. It would be easy, fatally easy to let herself sway forward against him and find herself caught in his crushing embrace. The silence between them lengthened and she felt almost certain that James was experiencing the same aching, primitive sense of need that was disturbing her so profoundly. But she felt equally certain that this was nothing but a game to him. Angrily she jerked herself free of his touch.

‘Look, what’s it got to do with you?’ she demanded.

He caught her by the wrist, swinging her back to face him.

‘Plenty,’ he snapped. ‘I like Sam a lot and I don’t want him being made unhappy by some twitty little girl in ridiculous clothes who doesn’t even know what she wants.’

‘Ridiculous clothes?’ echoed Laura incredulously, glancing down at Bea’s long striped cardigan. ‘Oh, so that’s what this is about, is it? It’s just blind, simple prejudice. You disapprove of me because I’m a model, don’t you?’

‘That’s ridiculous! If I disapprove of you, it’s because I suspect you’re unstable and likely to skip out of this marriage at the first sign of difficulty.’

All Laura’s old insecurities came rushing back and she felt the blood surge into her cheeks in a burning rush.

‘You’re only saying that because of the background I come from!’ she shouted accusingly. ‘Just because I grew up in foster homes, you don’t think I can sustain a stable marriage.’

‘That’s utter rubbish! I wasn’t even thinking about that!’

‘You were!’ cried Laura, her voice rising and growing more rapid. ‘I know you were! You think I’m not good enough for Sam, don’t you? Your family is rich and respectable and important and nobody ever gets divorced in it, so you don’t think I’m good enough to be allowed in the door, do you?’

James glared at her.

‘I didn’t say that!’ he retorted in exasperation. ‘Anyway, who said my family never got divorced? Sam’s father Adrian is divorced, I’m divorced, and the only reason my sister Wendy isn’t divorced is because she never bothered to marry any of her lovers.’

Laura felt an odd prickling sensation that was a mixture of pain and relief at the news that James was divorced. For some ridiculous reason it hurt her to know that he had ever been married, and yet she couldn’t help feeling absurdly glad that the marriage was definitely over. And then she saw the grim twist to his lips, the harsh etching of the lines around his mouth—was it over for him?

‘Are you divorced? Why?’

‘That’s none of your damned business! It’s irrelevant anyway, and I don’t know why I even mentioned it. It happened years ago and I’ll never be fool enough to get married again. I was simply making the point that—’

‘Oh, I see!’ she interrupted. ‘You’re disillusioned with marriage, so you have to try and turn everyone else off it too. What right do you have to tell me that I’m frivolous and selfish and that I’ll skip out at the first sign of difficulty? You know nothing about me!’

His face darkened.

‘I know you’re planning to marry Sam for financial security and I know there’s a hell of a lot more to marriage than that. If you think a big house in Sandy Bay is going to make you happy, little girl, you’ve got a lot of growing up to do!’

‘Don’t you “little girl” me!’ shouted Laura. ‘If you think that because you’ve bought us a house you can be the power broker in our marriage, well, you can forget it! We don’t need your house and we won’t take it. I’ll tell Sam to refuse it. We’ll buy our own damned house.’

‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous! It’s nothing to do with my trying to be a “power broker” in your marriage, as you put it. You’ve got a perfect right to own that house, you and Sam.’

Laura was momentarily sidetracked. As an accountant she sensed an interesting complication. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter.

‘What do you mean? You’re the one paying for it, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ growled James. ‘But only because of the way my father’s will was left. You see, Sam’s father has never had any sense handling money, it runs through his fingers like water, so my father left his share of the estate to me, as well as my own. He knew if my brother Adrian got hold of it he’d squander it before his kids ever saw it.’

‘Whereas you—’ prompted Laura.

James heaved an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his black hair so that it stood up in wild disorder.

‘Whereas I’m the sensible, responsible one,’ he said bitterly. ‘The one that pays off mortgages and tends the stock and budgets for the taxes and gets the rest of the family out of trouble when they blunder into it. Somebody has to be reliable or they would all come adrift. My father knew I’d take care of Sam and the others, so he left everything in my hands.’

That sounds just like me, thought Laura with an unwilling twinge of sympathy. She remembered how earnestly she had argued with the welfare worker when she was twenty-one to convince her that she could provide a home for Bea on her salary as a first-year accountant. And how much she had sacrificed to keep her promise to her dying mother that she would take care of her sister. All those lost opportunities for dates and parties and good times flashed before her eyes, but she felt not so much virtuous as utterly fed up. If James had gone through the same thing with his family, she pitied him! Even if he was a callous, manipulative womaniser, nobody deserved to be Mr Fixit all the time.

‘Don’t you ever get sick of being the sensible one?’ she burst out.

‘Yes,’ said James grimly.

‘What would you have liked to do if you hadn’t had to be the person that everybody else relied on?’ she asked curiously.

His eyes narrowed and he seemed to be looking at something far away.

‘I would have gone up to the Great Barrier Reef for at least a year and been a beachcomber,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘It would have been great to go surfing or riding horses along those long white beaches and lie around under the palm trees for a year or so. Mind you, I probably would have got sick of it after that. I suspect I’m the hard-working, ambitious type deep down. Still, it would have been fun.’

‘It’s not very different from what I would have done,’ murmured Laura half to herself. ‘I would have loved to go off to Queensland and spend months hiking through the rainforests and collecting wildflowers without ever having to worry about going to work and being responsible.’

James cast her a frowning, baffled look.

‘Then why didn’t you just do it?’ he asked. ‘You studied horticulture, didn’t you, at least for a while? And from what you’ve told me, it doesn’t sound as if there was any strongly developed work ethic standing in your way.’

Laura felt as if a chill had invaded the room. Why did she keep forgetting who she was supposed to be? Of course, James was right. If her sister had wanted to travel around and hike through rainforests, she would simply have done it. Whereas good, old, boring, sensible Laura wouldn’t dream of doing anything so rash. Just as she wouldn’t dream of flinging aside caution and plunging headlong into a torrid affair with James.

A sudden blaze of rebellion ignited inside her. If only I thought it was me personally that he wanted, instead of any woman who comes near him! she thought despairingly. Or if only Bea and I hadn’t deceived him like this and he didn’t think I was a scheming gold-digger! I wish, I wish…Then she caught the implacable glint of hostility in his tawny eyes and she heaved a faint, defeated sigh. What was the point of wishing? It was all useless. The best thing she could do was to avoid him as much as possible and pray for a miracle to get her out of this mess.

‘Well, we’re very different people, aren’t we?’ she said coolly. ‘I don’t suppose I can expect you to understand anything I do. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to bed now.’

As she moved towards the door he put out his hand to stop her. To her surprise, the antagonism in his voice was suddenly softened by something else. A glimmer of respect, perhaps? Or even a wary friendliness. Laura had the impression that he was struggling to be fair.

‘Listen,’ he muttered. ‘I’m not necessarily opposed to you, Beatrice. You’ve obviously got a lot more character and intelligence than I was led to expect. But there are two things in life I hate. One is deceit, the other is disloyalty. At least you seem to be honest and genuine, but I can’t help worrying about whether you’ll be loyal to Sam in the long run. So I’m warning you, think again about whether you want to go through with this marriage.’

Laura woke the next morning with a feeling of intense misgiving, mingled with a ridiculous fluttery sense of excitement. As she showered and dressed she tried to focus her thoughts. There was no doubt that she had landed herself in serious trouble. In one way she was tempted to phone for a hire car and flee northwards to the ferry, but a few moments’ reflection convinced her that she couldn’t leave without an explanation.

James still believed that she was Bea and he would be expecting her to stay, so it would be the height of rudeness to vanish without telling him why. He might be opposed to Bea’s forthcoming marriage, but he didn’t deserve anything as dreadful as that! Besides, there were practical difficulties—he might call the police and put out a missing person’s report on her if she simply left without a word. Yet she shrank from trying to explain their idiotic masquerade to him. Let Bea do that when she arrived!

The trouble was that with every extra minute she spent in his company, she felt as if she were sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand. Even though they had quarrelled last night, she still couldn’t deny the treacherous attraction she felt towards him. But there could be no future for them. Not when she suspected him of trying to seduce her simply for entertainment. And not when he found out about all the lies she had told him…

Well, he would have to know before the wedding, and her stomach contracted in morbid dread at the thought of the scene that would ensue when he did find out. Had she really been crazy enough to think that it would be quite exciting to have James shouting and storming at her? The truth was likely to be utterly different! She could just picture the cold look of contempt that would come over his face when he discovered how she and Bea had tricked him.

Would he refuse to take part in the wedding? At the moment he was supposed to be giving Bea away, since she didn’t have a father to do it, but who could blame him if he refused to take part? He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would grin and shrug his shoulders if somebody made a fool of him. Laura suspected that a formidable temper smouldered beneath his urbane exterior. He wasn’t in the least bit long-suffering, like Raymond.

Raymond! Oh, heavens, she had forgotten all about Raymond…She’d been supposed to give him an answer to his proposal yesterday, so what on earth would he think of her? She had never failed to keep a promise before! Even as the thought crossed her mind she knew what her answer was going to be and knew that it didn’t matter that she had broken her promise. After the whirlwind emotions which James had roused in her during the last twenty-four hours, there was no possible way that she could marry Raymond. All the same, he deserved an answer.

Feeling as if she were ringing up the dentist to make an appointment for a wisdom tooth extraction, Laura picked up the phone.

‘Ray?’

‘Laura! I was halfway through shaving! What on earth happened? I thought you were supposed to get in touch with me yesterday. You didn’t show up to work and your secretary said you’d taken a day’s leave without any real explanation.’

His tone was faintly querulous and Laura felt a niggling sense of exasperation, followed by an urge to get the ordeal over.

‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ she said shortly. ‘There was a sudden hitch to do with Bea’s wedding and I had to fly down to Tasmania unexpectedly. Now that I’m here I’ll be staying for a few days, but never mind that. What I really rang to tell you is that…I can’t marry you.’

‘That’s a bit abrupt,’ protested Ray mildly. She thought she heard a faint scraping sound in the background. Was he continuing to shave while he talked? ‘Can’t you give me some reasons?’

‘There’s only one reason, Ray. I don’t love you.’

He laughed indulgently, the same sort of laugh she had heard once when she had told him the petty cash tin was short of fifteen cents, although even then he had kept going through the books relentlessly until he found the error.

‘Love!’ he snorted. ‘We’re both mature adults, Laura. Do we need to make such a fuss about terminology?’

Laura felt a pang of irrational antagonism so fierce that if Ray had been in the room, she would have picked up the phone and thrown it at him. Terminology, indeed! And if you got rid of love, what did you do? Spend the rest of your life having dry little conversations about a few missing cents in the petty cash tin? No, thanks! There had to be more to the universe than that!

‘Well, I do,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Ray, but I guess that’s the end of it.’

‘Laura, are you sick or something? You don’t sound at all like yourself. Look, don’t rush into a decision. Wait until Beatrice’s wedding is over and talk to me about it then. By the way, did I tell you I got the Simmons and Waterman contract? Quite a coup, really.’

‘Good for you,’ retorted Laura coldly, and hung up.

As she moved away from the phone it occurred to her that the whole conversation had resembled a business discussion about some minor appointment which could be cancelled without too much difficulty. The realisation made her feel surer than ever that she was doing the right thing. After all, a decision to get married was a pretty important event, and ought to be accompanied by some very powerful feelings. Even if a proposal was refused, she felt that it ought to be more than just a passing disturbance in somebody’s day. Raymond hadn’t sounded upset, merely aggrieved. And, if she was going to be honest, her own reaction was mainly one of relief, which was crazy. If she had just refused a proposal of marriage from James Fraser, she was certain that she would have felt shaken to the core by the experience.

‘But if James proposed to me,’ she said aloud, ‘maybe I wouldn’t refuse anyway.’

She stopped suddenly in her tracks with a jolt of dismay as she realised what she had just said. A low groan escaped her.

Oh, Lord, she really had it badly, didn’t she? What did James have to do with anything? It was hardly likely that he was ever going to ask her to marry him. As a matter of fact, his main preoccupation at the moment seemed to be trying to talk her out of getting married, but was that really just because he thought that she…or Bea…was too young? Or could it possibly be that he was genuinely attracted to her himself and not merely playing games with her?

Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought as being too silly for words and began to get dressed. Not that she had many clothes to choose from. Believing that she would only be staying in Tasmania for one day, she hadn’t bothered to bring much with her, and only her habitual caution had made her pack any clothes at all. What she had brought was definitely in her style rather than Bea’s. A long viyella nightdress, plain underwear and sensible shoes, a dark blue knit suit with a little gold brooch to pin on the jacket and a severely cut black coat which she had bought in Florence on her holidays two years ago.

That should baffle James after the violently coloured long cardigan she had worn yesterday! And perhaps seeing her with her hair in a chignon would shake his smug notions about how young and irresponsible she was. An impish sense of mischief began to mingle with her guilt.

As she’d expected, James gave her a startled glance when she walked into the kitchen. He was standing at the stove, stirring something in a frying pan, and the appetising smell of bacon and tomatoes wafted across to meet her.

‘That was good timing,’ he announced, tilting the frying pan and dividing the food evenly onto two plates. Switching off the stove, he handed one of the plates to Laura and gestured at a table by the window which was already set with a checked red and white cloth, orange juice, butter, jam and all the other paraphernalia of breakfast. Laura gave him a worldly wise smile as he poured some juice for her and passed her the toast.

‘You look very nice,’ he said with approval, glancing at her dark suit. ‘That’s an extremely suitable outfit for seeing the vicar about the wedding.’

Laura choked on a mouthful of bacon.

‘What did you say?’ she gulped.

James leaned back in his chair and his eyes narrowed. There was an almost wolfish quality to his expression which made Laura’s blood run cold.

‘I said that’s a very suitable outfit for visiting the vicar about the wedding,’ he repeated, with a mildness that was almost sinister. ‘Didn’t I tell you that he phoned me yesterday and suggested that we should have a proper rehearsal for the ceremony? Unless you’ve changed your mind about whether there’s going to be a wedding?’

She stared at him with the stricken horror of a baby rabbit which had just noticed the swooping shadow of a hawk. Playing this masquerade to one person was bad enough, but if she was now going to be forced to convince the vicar that she was Bea, she would simply crack up.

Several courses of action occurred to her, all of them equally ridiculous. She could hide under the table and never come out, she could hitch-hike to the end of the island and then swim, or she could agree with James that the wedding ought to be cancelled. The last one was the solution that had most appeal, except that the choice was utterly farcical. She wasn’t the one getting married anyway.

‘You’re not really going to go ahead with this, are you?’ demanded James.

His voice was harsh, and to her astonishment his right hand suddenly shot out, seizing her wrist with such force that she cried out. His grip softened marginally, but he continued to gaze at her with an intensity that almost scorched her. She found that her heart was hammering with a wild exultation. He is attracted to me! she thought dizzily. It’s the same for him as it is for me. Then the absurdity of her situation struck her again and she shuddered.

‘There’s nothing I can do to stop this wedding now,’ she said jerkily, dropping her eyes and avoiding his gaze.

‘That’s rubbish! You’re just letting social pressure and embarrassment force you into it, Bea, because you can’t face the humiliation of crying off at the last moment. But you know you’re doing something very wrong, don’t you?’

‘You know you’re doing something very wrong, don’t you?’ The words seared her as if he had scorched them into her conscience with a branding iron, but of course James wasn’t aware of their double meaning.

‘Please let me go!’ she blurted out, wrenching away from him.

‘All right,’ he snapped, releasing her. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you go ahead and marry Sam without really loving him and being sure that you’re ready for lifelong commitment, you’re going to regret it, and I’m sure the vicar will tell you the same thing. Why don’t you discuss it with him when you see him today?’

So he was back on that, was he? Laura stared at him in alarm.

‘What do you mean—when I see him today?’

‘I told you—he rang up and suggested a rehearsal. Some of the music is rather tricky and the organist wants to run through it. I’ve explained that Sam is still stranded on the mainland, but the vicar is very anxious for us to go ahead with it anyway. He likes to have all the details right and we’ve got you here as the bride, which is the most important thing.’

Laura felt as if she were trapped in the middle of a nightmare. Go through the wedding rehearsal and pretend she was the bride? This was getting worse and worse! Wishing the floor would open and swallow her up, she tried a desperate, last-minute tactic.

‘Oh, I don’t think we should have the rehearsal without the bridegroom! Can’t we just cancel it?’

‘No, we can’t,’ growled James, and the pupils of his eyes seemed to narrow into pitiless slits. ‘I’ll stand in for Sam as your husband. Maybe it will jolt you into thinking about the significance of what you’re doing.’

The church was a quaint little sandstone building standing on a gentle green hill overlooking the sea. On the noticeboard at the gate a rather faded sign bore the text ‘FEED MY LAMBS, FEED MY SHEEP’, which seemed particularly appropriate, since a couple of merino ewes had escaped from a nearby paddock and were nibbling the grass that grew in lush clumps around the weathered gravestones.

If she had not been so agitated, Laura would have been enchanted by the pink frothy blossom which covered the cherry trees in the rectory garden next door and by the drifts of daffodils that tossed their heads beneath the bare oak trees. As it was, she felt as if she were being led off to execution as James put his arm around her shoulders and escorted her relentlessly up the path to the rectory door. A chubby, balding man with pink cheeks and thick horn-rimmed spectacles answered their second ring and beamed at them.

‘James, good to see you! And this is the bride, is it? Nice to meet you at last, Beatrice. My name’s Bill Archer. I’ve known young Sam since he was pinching the apples from the trees in my orchard during his school holidays, and it couldn’t give me greater pleasure than to be officiating at his wedding. I gather he couldn’t be with us today, though?’

‘No,’ said Laura in a wan voice. ‘There’s an airline strike.’

‘It’s all right, though,’ added James in velvety tones. ‘I’ve offered to stand in instead. I think Beatrice ought to have this final chance for quiet contemplation about the meaning of holy matrimony.’

The vicar looked taken aback.

‘Er, well, yes,’ he agreed, tugging at his earlobe. ‘And to get the hymns right and that sort of thing too. Christine, my dear! We’re just going over to the church to run through young Sam’s wedding service. Why don’t you come with us?’

Laura had thought the agony couldn’t get any worse, but once she found herself inside the church she realised she’d been wrong. The building itself was beautiful, with its stained glass windows sparkling in the sun, its gleaming wooden pews smelling of lemon furniture polish and the fresh flowers that decked the altar. If she’d been going to be married, she couldn’t think of a nicer place to do it than this. But within the next five minutes she began to feel as if she were in a torture chamber as the other participants in the rehearsal gradually assembled. While the vicar made the necessary introductions she looked around her as despairingly as if she were a hostage in the clutches of a gang of terrorists.

‘All right, Bea, you’ve met my wife Christine and myself. Now, the lady in the green is Audrey Phillips, our organist, and behind her is John Timmins, who is going to be the best man. That leaves Peter Clark, my sexton, who won’t be taking part in the actual ceremony but has very kindly offered to give you away just for today, since James, who is going to have that privilege at the real wedding, is otherwise occupied at the moment. Now, have we forgotten anyone? Oh, dear, that’s awkward! We don’t have a bridesmaid, do we? What a pity your sister Laura couldn’t be here!’

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ agreed Laura faintly.

‘Oh, I’ll take her place,’ offered the vicar’s wife. ‘Now, let’s get started. Go and stand on the chancel steps, Bill, and tell them what you want them to do.’

‘It’s not too difficult. Once Audrey strikes up the “Wedding March”, you take Peter’s arm, Bea. Make a slow procession down the centre aisle, so everyone can have a good look at you, and when you arrive here the bridegroom will step forward to meet you. You both face me and the father—that’s Peter—will move a little to the left and the best man to the right. You hand your flowers to the bridesmaid and we go ahead with the ceremony. Has everyone got that?’