Читать книгу The Bridesmaid Pact - Julia Williams - Страница 12

August 1996

Billy Idol was screaming out it was a nice day for a white wedding, which seemed appropriate in a bar in Las Vegas. I couldn’t resist the craving for the next drink, though I knew I needed it like a hole in the head.

‘Oi, Charlie boy, gezza ’nother drink.’ I was aware vaguely in some dim dark recess in my brain that I’d probably had enough and I was definitely slurring my words. The sensible thing would be to go to bed right now. Call it a day with these very nice and fun-loving work colleagues with whom I’d spent the last couple of days bonding in Las Vegas on the first solo photo shoot of my career as a make-up artist. But my sensible head never won over my drunken one.

‘What are you on again?’ Charlie looked in about as good shape as I was. He had wandered up to the bar. He turned to look at me as he said this, and leaned rather nonchalantly against the bar. He missed, narrowly avoiding smashing his chin before righting himself.

‘Vodka and coke,’ I said, giggling hysterically. Our companions, Charlie’s boss Finn, and Sal, the PA to the spoilt model whose photos we’d all been involved in taking for the past couple of days, were nuzzling up to each other in one of the deep-red heart-shaped sofas that littered the bar. It had not been a very well kept secret that they were shagging the pants off each other, despite Finn’s heavily pregnant wife at home. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. I was no angel, it’s true, but shagging someone who was hitched with a baby on the way seemed like a complication too far to me. I wondered if he was worth it. Then, looking at his rugged, wrinkled face, I decided he wasn’t. Finn must be nearly twenty years older than Sal. What on earth did she see in him?

Now Charlie on the other hand…Over the last couple of days I’d decided he was a bit of all right. Tall, dark, conventionally good-looking with a fetching quiff that fell over his eye that he brushed off in a movement that I found at once attractive and endearing, Charlie was rather lovely. And might be just the thing to take my mind off the humiliation of Steve’s rejection.

I’d always known Steve would go for Sarah in the end, despite all his flirting. They always did. Her pretty girl-next-door good looks always won them over, even if they were initially attracted to my wildness. My spiky aggressiveness was in the main too much for most of the men I encountered. Far too toxic, as I’d been told on more than one occasion. They enjoyed the shag, but they never hung around long enough to keep their spare PJs in my cupboard.

When we’d met him out drinking in Soho, it was obvious that a cityboy slicker like him would go for Sarah, the safe bet, rather than her more wild and unpredictable friend. Not that it stopped him flirting with me, mind, and making lewd suggestions about what he’d like to do with me when Sarah wasn’t around. I’d bet a million dollars he never said anything to her like that. I should have been a better friend to Sarah. I should have warned her what he was like. But annoying prick as he was, Steve also happened to be one of the most gorgeous guys I’d ever met. Talk about love god. And I really did like him, and couldn’t help the stab of jealousy when he chose Sarah. So after that, when we were all out together, I never stopped his surreptitious flirting with me, reasoning that it couldn’t do any harm. He made me feel so good about myself, and I, despite all my chippiness and bravado, needed a morale boost from time to time. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone, of course.

So when he finally moved things up a notch, when I bumped into him while clubbing without Sarah, I didn’t even think about her. And after we’d danced and snogged and gyrated our way round the dance floor, I thought we’d inevitably end up back at my flat. I didn’t think I cared, but the feeling of rejection when he left me so coldly, so humiliatingly on the dance floor was one I was unprepared for. I hated the feelings of churned-up misery he’d stirred up in me. It made me furious to feel so weak. But after all he and Sarah were engaged, what did I expect? And I was left alone. Bruised, sore, guilty, furious with myself for still hankering after him. And not a little jealous.

Yes, I could do with Charlie to lighten things up. He’d been so understanding, and he seemed to like me…

‘What time is it?’ I jerked awake, and suddenly realized I’d dozed off on Charlie’s shoulder. There was no sign of the other two. Presumably they’d gone off to consummate their passion. Well, good luck to them.

‘Three a.m.,’ said Charlie. ‘But hey, the night’s still young. We’re in Vegas don’t forget. Ever played blackjack?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘But there’s a first time for everything.’

So suddenly we found ourselves running through the hotel’s casino, like a pair of school kids. There were roulette wheels and card tables, in the plushest of surroundings. It was such an outrageous, extravagant kind of place, like being in a James Bond movie. I felt right at home. I could be anything I wanted here.

We found a table where a game of blackjack was just starting, and soon we were betting money we couldn’t afford on a game I barely understood. I was drinking vodka like it was going out of fashion, but here, in this atmosphere, I felt alive in a way I never had, and carried away on a feeling of indulgent recklessness. Charlie was lovely too, really attentive in a way none of the guys I’d ever been with had ever been before. I was enjoying the sensation so much, I let my guard down. And it felt great.

‘Hey, look over there,’ I nudged Charlie. ‘There’s a wedding couple.’

‘So?’ said Charlie, who was looking at his hand trying to work out if he was going to make twenty-one or have to go bust. His last five dollars were riding on it. I’d had to give up a couple of hands before, as I’d run out of money.

‘Isn’t it cute?’ I said, suddenly fascinated with this couple. They seemed to represent something I never thought I’d have. ‘I bet there’s a little chapel next door where you can get hitched, just like that.’

‘There is, honey,’ a Texan blonde with a pink rodeo hat and tasselled pink denim jacket next to me, drawled. ‘It’s called Love Me Tender, and they’ve got an Elvis impersonator who’ll marry you for a few dollars.’

‘What a hoot,’ I said. I nudged Charlie. ‘We should do it.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Charlie.

‘Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?’ I said.

‘I think marriage should be a bit more serious than that,’ said Charlie.

‘Oh, don’t be so boring,’ I said. ‘Think what fun we’ve had tonight. I like you, you like me, we’re made for each other. We should get married tonight and go home and make a little Las Vegas baby.’

I didn’t know what I was saying. I hated babies. I certainly didn’t want one now. But somehow, I felt certain of one thing. Charlie and I had connected tonight, in a way I’d never connected with anyone. We should be together.

‘You’re mad,’ said Charlie. He gave me a quizzical look, as if weighing something up. ‘Did you mean all that?’

‘Course I did,’ I said. ‘I think you’re gorgeous.’

‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ said Charlie, ‘but it’s hardly a basis for getting married.’

‘Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?’ I said teasingly.

‘Why, is that what you think’s happening?’

‘Don’t you?’ I said. Charlie didn’t reply. ‘I know. If you win this game, then we get married?’

‘All right, if I win, I promise to marry you,’ said Charlie, ‘which is absolutely fine, because I’m not going to win.’

One by one everyone stuck except Charlie. The tension was mounting. He had eighteen in his hand; the croupier asked him what he was going to do.

‘Twist,’ said Charlie. I held my breath as he turned over his hand.

‘Oh my god,’ I said. He’d turned over the three of clubs.

Twenty-one.

‘I won,’ said Charlie in a dazed voice. ‘I’ve just won over two hundred dollars.’

He turned to me and hugged me tight.

‘Waahahaay!’ he said. ‘The night is young.’

‘Go on,’ I said with more bravado than I was feeling. ‘Now you have to do it. A deal’s a deal.’

I honestly thought he’d say no. Charlie was a sweetheart, but I didn’t think he was as reckless as me, but as he counted off his winnings, he seemed to suddenly shift up a gear.

‘Well why the hell not?’ he said. ‘You only live once, and we are in Vegas.’

‘Great,’ I said, and grabbed his arm and dragged him off with me. I tried to ignore the shadow of doubt which was telling me I was only doing this to spite Steve. Which is how just an hour later, we found ourselves in front of the Love Me Tender chapel, giggling. The door was heart shaped and the outside of the chapel was a sickly pink which reminded me of the terrible blancmanges Auntie Nora used to make when I was little and Mum was having one of her funny ‘turns’. We’d come armed with our marriage licence, which, bizarrely, in Las Vegas you could buy at any time of the night or day over the weekend, and the sun was just rising above the city, which seemed just as busy now as it had done when we’d embarked on our drinking spree all those hours earlier.

I had a moment of panic then. This wasn’t how I’d planned my wedding day. I’d always pretended I didn’t want to get married, but now I was here, I could admit to myself I wanted the real deal, not this ghastly parody with a boy I barely knew. I thought of Doris with a pang. She’d be furious with me for not fulfilling her silly pact.

‘Come on then,’ Charlie grabbed my hand, and pulled me through the door. We were met by an Elvis impersonator who was apparently the official who was going to marry us. It also transpired that he was going to give me away. So I walked down the aisle to the tender strains of ‘Love Me Do’ and then in a few easily spoken words we were hitched. It felt surreal.

‘Let’s go and see the sunrise,’ said Charlie impulsively. Finding out from Elvis that the best spot for this was out of town, we took a cab out to the desert, and sat holding hands as we watched a deep, pink sunrise in a pale, turquoise sky. The rising sun cast long shadows across the desert, which glowed pink and orange as the day slowly dawned. The morning air was slightly chilly, and Charlie popped his jacket over my shoulders – in my impulsiveness, I’d come without one. Instinctively, I leant my head against his shoulder, it felt natural and right in a way I’d never felt before. It was the perfect end to a bizarre and weird evening. Charlie kissed me gently on the lips and then said, ‘Happy Wedding Day, Mrs Cosgrove. Come on, let’s go home.’

We got back to the hotel, and then shyly, I followed him up to his room. It was strange. We’d been behaving so recklessly all evening, and now I felt like a fool. I could legitimately sleep with the guy and suddenly, now I was here, it felt all wrong. In the end, we just stumbled into the room, and collapsed cuddling on the bed from exhaustion and overconsumption of alcohol.

I woke at midday. The sun was streaming through the window, and Charlie was still snoring next to me. Charlie. I sat bolt upright and looked down at him, the events from the previous night flooding back with sudden and vivid clarity. Oh my god. I’d got married to a guy I barely knew. What on earth had I been thinking? How could I have been so stupid?

I sat on the edge of the bed looking at him sleeping so peacefully. He truly was lovely to look at. And he was a really nice guy. But I barely knew him. And he wasn’t Steve. How the hell was I going to get out of this? We couldn’t really be married could we? The only thing I could think to do was to blag my way out of it.

‘Good morning Mrs Cosgrove,’ Charlie’s voice cut into my thoughts.

‘Oh my god,’ my voice was pure fake Hollywood. ‘I can’t believe we acted so crazy last night.’

‘I thought it was rather fun actually,’ said Charlie.

‘But come on,’ I said. ‘Getting married was a bit way out, wasn’t it?’

‘It doesn’t have to be, does it?’ Charlie took my hand.

I felt lousy then. Maybe he actually liked me. I’d led him on atrociously. All my pent-up feelings of bitterness against Steve had led me here; this wasn’t fair on him. Best to brazen it out and pretend I couldn’t see the way he really felt.

‘Well it was an adventure, that’s for sure,’ I laughed. ‘Not many people can say they came to Las Vegas and got married and divorced in a day, can they?’

‘You want to get divorced?’ Charlie said, angrily. ‘Make your bloody mind up.’

‘Well don’t you?’ I said.

‘I don’t know,’ said Charlie. ‘I know it was a bit wild, but we could try and give it a go, couldn’t we?’

‘I don’t think so,’ I said, trying not to look at him.

‘What about us being meant for each other?’ said Charlie. ‘You were the one who seemed to think it was such a good idea last night.’

‘That was the drink talking,’ I said, trying to joke my way out of things.

‘Gee, thanks,’ said Charlie.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. But come on,’ I said. ‘Us staying married would be terrible. We hardly know each other. It’s never going to work.’

‘You really think so?’ said Charlie.

‘I do,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, I was really drunk last night, and things got out of hand. Believe me, I’m really bad news for you, you’ll be grateful to me in the end.’

I couldn’t look at him. I felt so guilty, and he looked so forlorn I couldn’t believe he was taking it so seriously. I’d had him taped last night as being as wild as I was. Surely he could see this was just a prank that had gone badly wrong?

‘You mean it, don’t you?’

‘Yes I do. Us staying married is a really, really bad idea,’ I said.

‘The worst,’ said Charlie tonelessly.

‘So that’s it,’ I said brightly. ‘If it’s that easy to get married here, I bet it’s a cinch to get divorced.’

I didn’t look at him when I said this. I pretended it was all OK. But not for the first time, I felt really lousy. The nicest bloke I’d met in ages, and I’d stuffed it up big time.