Led by Dawn, they flew up the stairs. Grace pulled two suitcases down from the top of the wardrobe. Anna emptied underwear drawers into them and threw hangers of clothes on top. Raychel was gathering shoes. Dawn’s dress, by now, felt as poisonous on her as Hercules’s shirt but there was no time to change.
‘Where’s your mobile and charger? Bank books? Make-up? Jewellery?’ Grace said, thinking back to the important things she had needed to take from her own house.
Dawn opened a drawer and gathered up everything in it.
‘It’s all here!’ she said.
‘Is your passport in there?’
‘Yep. Everything.’
‘You are so beautifully, wonderfully, fantastically anal!’ said Anna with a face-splitting grin. She gave Dawn a big smacking kiss on the mouth. God, she loved women! They were magnificent in a crisis.
‘I just wish my thoughts were anything like as organized,’ said Dawn. She grabbed her two guitars from the side of her bed and said, ‘That’s it. I’ve got everything I need. Let’s go.’
She didn’t even give the house a backward glance as they set off like a rocket in the direction of the Rising Sun.
‘Where’s the bleeding bride?’ said Muriel. ‘Your Uncle Walter and Auntie Enid are ready for off and I’ve looked everywhere for her.’
‘Dunno,’ said Calum, who suddenly realized he hadn’t seen her himself for a while. The bar had rather held his attention and all the back-slapping chat with his mates.
‘Have you two seen her?’ said Muriel to her much subdued daughters.
‘Er, no,’ said Demi, exchanging glances with her sister.
‘What’s up?’ said Muriel. She’d never seen her daughters so quiet before.
‘Nowt!’ said Denise.
‘What’s up?’ said Calum, suspiciously looking from sister to mother.
‘Come on, out with it!’ said Muriel, hands on her large, pink-clad hips. She carried on asking until one of them started to talk.
‘It might be nothing, right,’ began Denise hesitantly. ‘But you know earlier when we came out of the toilet and asked you where Dawn was and you said she’d gone to the toilet—’
‘Ye-es,’ said Muriel, preparing herself. She couldn’t tell where this was going yet, but it didn’t sound too good so far.
‘Well, we all must have been in the toilet at the same time—’
‘Fucking wow,’ said Calum, about to turn back to his mates. He hoped his sister never decided to write crime novels.
‘Carry on,’ said Muriel. Now her arms were folding which signified that she wasn’t happy by a long chalk.
‘Well, we didn’t realize anyone was in with us—’
‘Go on,’ said Calum, all ears now. ‘GO ON.’
‘And we . . . we . . .’ Demi was nearly crying now.
‘We started talking about our Calum and Mandy Clamp on his stag night,’ Denise ended the sentence for her sister.
‘We aren’t sure if it was her in there though,’ Demi put in.
‘Although whoever was in there had a long white frock on,’ added Denise.
‘Didn’t you go back and check?’ said Muriel, rubbing her forehead in disbelief.
‘Er . . . no. We didn’t think to.’
Calum swung around, clutching his hair.
‘You didn’t think to! Who else would have a long white frock on here? Some gate-crashing angel? Aarrrghh!’ He flew at his sister but was dragged off before his hands made contact by Denise’s bloke, Dave, who thumped the groom right in the jaw and sent him flying over the table.
‘I don’t care if it is your wedding day, mate, you don’t fucking hit women.’
‘They aren’t women,’ screamed Calum. ‘They’re thick, blabber-mouthed, idiot, marriage-wrecking tarts with shit for brains.’
‘You’re the one with shit for brains, you cocky twat! There’s only the bride that didn’t know you’d shagged Clampy on your stag do, so how long do you think it would have taken her to find out anyway?’ Denise roared at him.
‘No there wasn’t, but they do know now don’t they, you stupid cow!’ said Calum, looking at the gob-smacked faces around him.
‘Well, you should have kept it in your trousers, then there would have been nothing to tell, shouldn’t you, wanker?’
Suddenly all hell was let loose. Denise lunged forward with her false nails in claw mode. Empty Head came to Calum’s rescue and, by mistake, lamped Demi. Then Demi’s new boyfriend, Liam, waded in with fists raised for anyone that moved before he was promptly flattened by Muriel’s handbag. Then someone threw the top tier of the cake and Bette, trying to escape, slipped in it. The last sight Calum saw before he woke up in hospital with concussion was Bette’s giant buttocks descending on his head.
No one noticed Mavis Marple and her big white serviette full of nibbles slip away. She had rested it on the floor, the food tied up safely inside, when she went to the toilet and heard those women talking about the groom and his stag night. Despite the plentiful supply of sausage rolls still available, this was one wedding that was just too rough for her.
‘So you’re really going mad and doing it then?’ said Raychel.
‘Do you think I am mad?’ said Dawn.
‘I think this is the most sane you’ve been since I met you,’ said Anna. ‘Follow your heart, kiddo. Be brave.’
Be brave.
That’s what Freya had said. Was that the magic in her dress after all? Is that why it felt so tight and uncomfortable? As if it didn’t want to be worn for an unhappy occasion? Anyway, if it was, it had worked. She couldn’t wait to get it off, beautiful as it was. She would send it back to Freya with her compliments and hope that a future bride wore it for the right man. All that money wasted. And she didn’t give a flying fart.
‘Oh, and before we forget, here’s your wedding present.’ Christie fished in her pocket and dropped an envelope of cash into Dawn’s lap. Then more fell on top of it as the girls emptied their purses onto her.
‘No, I couldn’t possibly—’
‘Yes, you can, you’ll need it,’ said Grace.
‘But it’s a wedding present and I’m not really married.’
‘It’s for the next wedding.’
Dawn smiled a big wide arc that took up most of her face. Her whole heart seemed to swell up at the thought of getting married in cowboy boots. She knew she would. She’d seen it. She felt her mum and dad relaxing in heaven. They just wanted her to be happy and she jolly well was going to be. For all of them.
‘Am I legally married now?’
‘Yes,’ said Christie. ‘But I think you’ll find it’s voidable. Let a solicitor sort all that out for you. You just concentrate on being love’s crazy cowboy young dream.’
‘My head feels like a tumble-drier,’ said Dawn, rubbing her temples. ‘I’ll never be able to thank you all for this. I can’t believe I’m doing it.’
‘Better late than never,’ put in Grace.
‘We all want signed CDs when you record those albums,’ said Raychel, pressing her hand on Dawn’s shoulder. Her touch felt so comforting that the tears rose to Dawn’s eyes and she let them flow out because these were happy, sweet tears and they felt warm and welcome on her cheeks.
‘I absolutely love you all to bits,’ said Dawn. ‘You’ve been like mothers and sisters to me. I’ll miss you like hell.’
‘We will miss you too,’ said Anna. ‘How will we cope without that mouth of yours and learning all about women who have sex with sheds? Oh God, now I’m filling up.’
‘Hang onto your hats,’ said Christie, stealing a look at the clock. It was showing 3 p.m. exactly and there was the tour bus in front, about to nudge out of the car park into the road.
Christie stamped her foot down on the accelerator, honking her horn like a mad woman, then she braced herself, hit the brake and her posh car skidded to a perfect stop alongside the bus.
‘Oh hellfire, I’m stuck!’ shrieked Dawn. The car door handle was lost somewhere in the folds of her dress and her very big handbag.
Raychel had to jump out and open Dawn’s door from the outside. Anna applied leverage and pushed Dawn and her giant frock out of the car. She would have been wedged on the back seat for eternity without help.
Al Holly came bounding down the bus steps and froze as his feet hit the ground. His face bore all the signs of a man who thought he was hallucinating and if he moved the vision would disappear. Dawny Sole had thought she would fly into his arms but the opposite was true. She moved slowly towards him, her eyes locked on his.
How could I ever have thought I could live with
out him?
she asked herself.
‘You’re here,’ he said in a croaky whisper. ‘Is this a second goodbye?’
‘No,’ smiled Dawn. ‘This is a great big fat hello.’
‘Oh, Dawny.’ His eyes glistened with emotion as his hand reached out to take hers, shyly, like a little boy and a little girl in the playground. ‘I will make you so happy.’
‘You better had,’ said Anna from behind him, lugging one of Dawn’s suitcases. ‘Dawn, couldn’t you get suitcases with wheels on like normal people?’
‘I’m not normal,’ grinned Dawn.
‘You’re telling us,’ laughed Raychel, struggling with the other case.
Samuel hopped out of the bus and jokingly muttered about women really being the weaker sex as he lifted the cases effortlessly on board.
‘Take good care of her,’ said Christie to Al. ‘Despite the fact that she’s a nightmare and our nerves are in shreds and we will all need stress counselling after today, take really good care of her.’
‘Yes, ma’am, I promise you that I will,’ said Al Holly, wearing the sloppiest grin a mouth could form into. He put his arm around Dawn and squeezed her into his side. They fitted perfectly together and between them they were giving out vibes that could have fried a passing egg.
Then Dawn leaped forward and hugged each one of her friends in turn. Big squashy hugs full of happy strength. She saved the biggest one for Christie.
‘You’ve been wonderful,’ she said. ‘I’ll never forget all you’ve done.’
‘Be happy, my darling girl,’ said Christie. ‘Go and be loved and enjoy every minute of it.’
‘Take care, I’ll miss you so much,’ Dawn beamed, blowing them all a big kiss. ‘I love you all. I’ll be in touch, I promise.’
‘You better had be,’ said Anna. ‘You barmy cow.’
Al Holly took Dawn’s hand and pulled her gently onto the bus and they saw Dawn’s grinning face framed in one of the windows as the bus engine started up. The four women stood and watched it drive away and grow smaller as it travelled down the road. Their arms were sore from waving by the time it had disappeared.
‘Whoever said that life was dull in Barnsley ought to come and live here for a bit,’ said Raychel.
‘What now? Shall we go back to the Dog and Duck and get some cake?’ said Anna with innocently raised eyebrows.
‘Well, I don’t know about you three, but I think a glass of champagne might be in order.’
‘I’ve got no money,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve just tipped my purse into Dawn’s hand.’
Christie smoothly produced a Visa card from her sunny bag.
‘Who needs cash these days?’ she said.
27 June – The following year
Anna stood in the walled garden behind Darq House in a sumptuous black gown and closed her eyes. She pulled the fragrance from the red, red flowers that she carried into her lungs and sighed with contentment.
‘You all right, love?’ said Christie, dressed also in black, a much shorter ensemble with fancy ruffs at the sleeves and neck. Her own inimitable style. Even in black she looked colourful.
‘Ohhh, yes,’ said Anna.
‘Such a beautiful day too,’ said Christie, tipping her head upwards. The sun was gently lowering, its edges melting into the blue of the sky. The Pennines stood misty in the distance.
Grace wended her way towards them, carrying a bottle of Dom Perignon. Behind her, Raychel followed with four glasses. Both of them were in stylish black suits too.
‘Do you remember this date last year, we were drinking champagne then too?’ said Christie as Grace poured her a glass.
‘When Dawny became Mrs Crooke.’
‘And now she’s Mrs Holly and singing her little heart out.’
They kept in regular touch and, thanks to the wonders of webcam, they could see that smile still bursting out at them from the screen. It was a smile that they suspected was like the sun and never went out.
‘Beautiful ceremony,’ said Grace, sipping the cool, sparkly champagne.
‘Absolutely!’ said Raychel. ‘And you look gorgeous, Anna.’
‘Thank you,’ smiled Anna. She felt gorgeous too. She was
only
in her forties and she was going to look back on this decade some day with the sure and certain knowledge that she had sucked it dry.
‘Hear hear,’ added Grace.
‘There were some fantastic black dresses in the congregation,’ said Anna.
‘Oh, hark at her! She’s gone all fashiony already. She’s only been Mrs Darq for two hours and she’s turned into Zandra Rhodes.’
‘Great idea having a black wedding,’ said Raychel.
‘Aye well, that’s what happens when you marry one of the undead.’
‘Is he undead, really?’ asked Raychel.
‘Some parts of him are very much alive,’ said Anna with a cheeky smirk.
To the rest of the world, Vladimir Darq was an enigma, a mystery and a businessman par excellence, thanks to his amazingly successful lingerie range. The Darqone creation alone was judged to be a wardrobe basic for over one-fifth of the female population in Britain, and it had taken America by storm since its Christmas launch.
Anna alone owned the man who liked to watch Harry Potter films with home-made popcorn and waltz with her in the garden. Still, there were plenty of ‘darq’ things about him to keep even Anna intrigued. His skills in the bedroom were out of
this
world, that was for sure.
Anna patted the bump at the front of her dress, where her baby was snug and warm and growing.
‘Christie, come round for dinner next week while Grace and Niki are away. I’m obviously not going anywhere in this state. Don’t be lonely.’
‘I will do that,’ said Christie. She winked at Grace. Grace who was going to be cruising around the Mediterranean for a fortnight with her brother. Nikita Koslov was ready to make up for a lot of lost time. Grace was both nervous and giddy about the impending trip. Shopping for fancy underwear for the first time at fifty-six had been a revelation. Especially when you took your son and his new partner along to help you choose it. But Grace had learned from young Dawn that when a chance at happiness came, to grab onto it with both hands.