He Will Find You. Diane Jeffrey
up to the noise of an argument and the smell of toast, both coming from downstairs. I close my eyes tight, thinking I’ll go back to sleep for a few minutes, and then it hits me. It’s my wedding day! I leap out of bed so quickly that the room starts spinning. I sit back down on the bed and wait for it to stop. Grabbing my mobile from the bedside table, I turn it on. It gives the notification sound for an incoming text message. I grin like a loon when I see it’s from Alex.
Good morning, princess!
See you in church!!!
(I mean, see you in the register office.)
I love you, my Best girl.
Alexxx
My heart skips several beats. I read the text at least four times. Then, as I make my way to the bathroom, I realise his pun won’t work for much longer. I’m about to become his wife. A Riley. After today, ‘Best’ will be my maiden name.
I shower, singing Depeche Mode’s ‘Never Let Me Down Again’, which has been in my head since I listened to it yesterday on the playlist Hannah created for me. When I’m clean, I pull on my dressing gown and make my way downstairs.
The kitchen is a mess. Oscar and Archie have apparently finished eating – and quarrelling – and have left the table and their dirty plates and glasses on it. My dad and Daniel are still seated, munching toast, Jet is sitting on the floor between their chairs, looking hopefully from one to the other with his huge dark eyes, and, at the far end of the table, Julie is drinking tea while Hannah is standing behind her, drying her hair. She has cut it, too, judging from the clippings on the floor around Julie’s chair.
Alex would be appalled. He is rather OCD about tidiness, but seeing my loved ones making themselves at home in the kitchen – my kitchen – puts a huge smile on my face.
‘Good morning,’ they chorus.
‘Ready for your big day?’ my sister adds loudly to make herself heard over the hairdryer.
‘Psychologically, yes,’ I say, ‘but physically—’ I point one hand at my wet hair and the other one at my dressing gown ‘—not quite.’
Hannah grins. ‘Eat some brekky and I’ll make you beautiful when I’ve finished with Julie.’
Daniel jumps up to make a fresh pot of tea. He and Dad fuss with me, forcing me to eat even though I have butterflies and no appetite. I was worried that Daniel would judge me. After all, he and Kevin are good mates and I’m sure he had to pick up the pieces when I left. But Daniel has known me for a long time and has always treated me more like a little sister than a sister-in-law, and to my relief, he’s been very supportive. If he thinks badly of me for hurting Kevin, he doesn’t show it.
I look at Julie. She is already made up and looks radiant. Julie has fine, blonde hair, which she inherited from Dad, who was blond before he went grey and then bald. Hannah has cut Julie’s hair, which was long and a bit lank, into a sleek chin-length bob and, even with my inexpert eye, I can see that this has given Julie’s hair a lot more volume.
Hannah, who for the moment is dressed in her usual uniform of skinny jeans and a hoodie, has tamed her own stubborn hair into ringlets. I know she’ll look uncomfortable when she has to put her dress on, but for now she looks relaxed and absolutely gorgeous.
At one point, the boys appear in the doorway to show off their outfits to their parents. They’re wearing smart trousers and ironed shirts and I’m struck by how grown-up they seem.
But then Julie says, ‘Have you brushed your teeth?’
The boys look at each other, turn around and seconds later, we hear them bounding back up the stairs. We all laugh.
The girl staring back at me from the full-length mirror in my bedroom looks like my mum. Hannah has done an amazing job on my hair, and she has given me a hand with my make-up, too. For the first time ever, I love my red hair. We don’t have any waterproof mascara, which Hannah says I’ll regret as I’m bound to get emotional and cry at some stage today. She has convinced me to go for dark brown mascara instead of the green one I normally use.
It’s a bit of a squeeze putting on my ivory maternity wedding dress, my tummy a larger beach ball than I’d anticipated when I bought it. It’s supposed to be knee-length, but at the front it now comes down to mid-thigh. I have to breathe in and hold my shoulders back for Hannah to get the zip all the way up.
‘You should probably go easy on the wedding cake,’ my friend advises as I tie the silk sash loosely above my bump. I’m so nervous that I don’t think I’m going to be eating much of anything today, but I don’t say that. I just breathe out and smile at Hannah in the mirror.
I realise I’ve made Dad think of Mum, too, because when he sees me coming down the stairs, he gasps. ‘Your mum would have been so proud of you,’ he says, quickly regaining his composure.
This brings tears to my eyes. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but how can it be without Mum and Louisa? My hand goes to my neck and I close my fingers around the pendant of Mum’s necklace. Reminding myself that my mascara isn’t waterproof, I blink back the tears and we make our way outside and to the bottom of the drive, where the cars that Alex booked are waiting to take us to the register office in Kendal.
The ceremony itself goes by in a bit of a blur. Alex doesn’t take his eyes off me throughout the vows. I can feel everyone else’s eyes on Alex and me from behind us. He seems to bask in the glow of all the attention, but I shut out everything so there’s only him and me.
The Superintendent Registrar conducts the ceremony with the swift aplomb of someone who has married countless couples before and has better things to do on a Saturday. Even so, he is a lot less grumpy than when we met him to give notice of our intention to marry a month ago, although I suppose if Alex had remembered to bring his divorce papers, he might have been more affable.
Sitting at the table, next to Alex, I sign the register as Kaitlyn Best. The last time I’ll use this name. Hannah is my witness and I’ve never met Alex’s witness before. He introduced himself as ‘Mike from the triathlon club’ moments before we entered the register office.
‘It’s so nice to finally meet you,’ I say now, as Alex takes his turn signing the register. He keeps his left hand on my thigh under the table as he does this. ‘It’s a shame I had to get married in order to meet Alex’s best mate!’ I’m joking, but Alex removes his hand from my leg and I wonder if I’ve offended him. I try to catch his eye, but his gaze is focused on the register we’ve just signed.
For our wedding reception, Alex has reserved a charming hotel at Ambleside with stunning views of the lake. It comprises a country B&B on one side and a historic inn on the other. Alex described it to me, but I haven’t seen it before, and as our chauffeur-driven car pulls into the car park, I take in the grounds and the building.
‘It’s perfect,’ I breathe, and Alex squeezes my hand. If he was irritated earlier, all trace of it has gone now.
The hotel is dog-friendly, which means Jet is on the guest list, much to Dad’s delight. It’s not far from Grasmere, which is convenient as my family is staying at the Old Vicarage again this evening. Alex and I will be staying here, in one of the bedrooms upstairs.
The photographer bustles about and when he’s satisfied with his work outside, we all troop through the hotel into a large reception room. I’m rather relieved to be going indoors as it’s a cool April day and my arms and legs are bare. Alex and I have to pretend to cut the cake for the final photo, and then the photographer leaves.
I look around the room. There are only a few guests. Alex has more than me, but not that many more. His mum, grandfather, aunt, uncle and cousins are there as well as some of his friends from the triathlon club.
After the food and the speeches, a local band starts playing. Alex was able to book them at short notice because he goes running with the lead singer and one of the guitarists. They’re really good, and I’m impressed. As Alex leads me onto the wooden dancefloor, everyone watches