“Hope you aren’t feeling short changed,” Richard said.
“I’m afraid we’re stuck with each other for the evening.”
“That’s okay.” Kate meant it.
She hadn’t come looking for a guy but Richard seemed nice.
Kate didn’t talk much, but he was attentive and listened when she
did
speak and she began to enjoy herself.
That didn’t last long.
“I think your father’s about to embarrass you.” Richard put his hand on her arm.
Far from being embarrassed, Kate felt adrift from what was happening.
The jovial bald man standing next to her looked nothing like the father Kate remembered.
“Welcome,” the hairless Santa boomed.
“Welcome, all you lying reporters, amateur photographers, TV and radio would-be stars, those freelancers from Aunt Lizzie’s care home for the hopelessly insane, paparazzi bottom-feeding scum, friends, relations and complete strangers.”
That set the tone.
Apparently, Richard was a gynecologist and Kate was a proctologist.
A perfect match.
Stories of Kate showing the world her bottom in Marks and Spencer and Richard getting his hand stuck in a turkey were two of many anecdotes.
It was only when her mother, a tall, thin woman wearing the largest hat Kate had ever seen, got up to speak and began arguing with her husband, that Kate’s composure was shaken.
When Richard lifted her hand from the table leg and squeezed her fingers, as if he guessed something was wrong, she knew she wouldn’t mind seeing him again.
After the collapsing wedding cake, the hysterical mistress, the screaming baby, the police raid, the embarrassing wedding presents and the fight over the bouquet by the ushers—at which point Kate wondered how much more they could cram in—the torture was almost over.
Kate and Richard had the dance floor to themselves for one slow number.
The twangy voice of Tammy Wynette singing
D.I.V.O.R.C.E.
filled the room.
Then the night was theirs to do what they wanted, but the moment Richard pulled Kate into his arms, she doubted she’d dance with anyone else.
She felt his heart beating against hers.
His fingers trailed over her back and he pressed his face into her hair, talking to her as though he was declining a verb.
“Can I kiss you?
Let me kiss you.
I have to kiss you.
I’ve got to kiss you.”
He moved his hands to her throat and angled her face as he pressed his lips to hers.
Once she’d opened her mouth, he slid one hand down her back and pulled her to him, his hips shoved tight against hers.
Even through the thick layers of her horrible dress, Kate felt his erection pressing into her stomach.
No mistaking his interest.
The kiss started slow and warm, but segued in an instant to fast, hot and greedy.
She became aware of hooting and cheering and pulled away to find others moving onto the dance floor around them.
Richard whispered in her ear, “You look delicious and now I know you taste delicious.”
“You like meringue?”
“I like whipped cream better.”
Kate laughed.
His hands slid around her waist, and he lifted his thumbs so they grazed under her breasts.
Kate wobbled.
She had a sudden vision of a bed waiting for them in another room, together with a pile of sex toys.
The bed would be surrounded by tiered seating and their first night would be observed by every guest, all judges at the Wedding Night Olympics, scoring out of ten.
She shuddered.
“What are you thinking?” Richard asked.
Kate wasn’t sharing.
“If my friends were okay.”
“You want to know what I’m thinking?”
She thought she already knew.
“I don’t want you to wear a dress like that when we get married.
I picture you in something sleek and elegant.”
Not what she expected.
“Can I come back to your place?”
That was.
He looked at her with his lopsided smile, and Kate was torn between finding it cute and disconcerting.
She pulled away.
“No.”
“Do you want to come back to mine?”
“No.”
She liked the fact that he laughed, but Kate didn’t trust herself with this guy.
Richard ran after Kate’s taxi, blowing kisses as she watched through the back window.
Once she’d gone, he returned to his friends standing in line for a cab and didn’t try to hide his smug look.
“Fifty quid for each of us,” Simon said to Richard, holding out his hand.
Richard held up his mobile, displaying Kate’s number.
“It’s only a phone number and it could be the one for Battersea Dog’s Home,” Simon pointed out.
“It’s only you girls give that to.” Richard smirked.
“Fancy raising the bet?
I’ve had another idea.”
His two friends exchanged glances.
Richard knew Simon would be up for it.
He was a reporter for the daily rag,
24/7
, ergo he was up for anything.
He wasn’t so sure about Alexander Philo, known as Fax, who was a freelance photographer.
Richard hadn’t known him for long.
“You’re making excuses.
Pay up,” Simon said.
“Okay, so she didn’t sleep with me tonight, but I bet I can get her to marry me inside two months.”
Fax and Simon burst out laughing.
“I’m serious,” Richard said, pissed off they were laughing so hard.
“In fact I’m so serious, I’ll give you a thousand quid each if I fail to get her into a registry office inside eight weeks.
But I won’t fail, so you’ll be paying me.”
There was a sudden silence.
“I don’t like it.” Fax shook his head.
“What’s not to like about that sort of easy money?” Simon asked.
“Not that I should encourage Richard in his despicable gambling addiction, but I’m in.
Rich, you’ll never do it.
In fact, if Fax isn’t interested, I’m up for the two thousand.”
Richard lit a cigarette.
“You sure?”
Simon nodded.
“Hey guys, drop it,” Fax said.
“You shouldn’t fool around with someone like that.”
Richard snorted.
“It’s a bit of fun.
Lighten up.” He caught the look in Simon’s eye.
“You’re not going to write about this, Baxter.”
“Okay, no article, but I’m definitely in on the bet.
You aren’t that persuasive.
You can take the pictures, Fax.” Simon nudged him in the ribs.
“I’ll want proof.”
“No interfering, either,” Richard said.
“I don’t want you telling her I’ve got herpes or something.”
“Cleared up then, has it?” Simon asked.
“Wanker.” Richard laughed.
“You’re both wankers,” Fax said.
On a Friday night, five weeks to the day after “The Wedding Party”, Kate and Richard were walking hand-in-hand through Greenwich Park, Fax and Simon tagging along behind.
The four of them had been for a meal in Crispies, the café where Kate worked.
She’d rather have eaten elsewhere but Richard had insisted.
“Stop right here,” Richard said, looking up at the green laser light overhead, shining from the Observatory on the hill.
“You’re in the eastern hemisphere and I’m in the west.”
He waited for Fax and Simon to catch up.
“You can witness this,” he said and dropped on one knee on the gravel path.
“Kate, my love, will you marry me?”
Because he said he loved her and because he wanted her and made her feel safe, Kate thought that was enough.
She started to say yes, then remembered what she’d said the first time.
“All right.”
Richard laughed, more excited than she’d ever seen him before.
He whirled her in a circle on the path, then high-fived his friends.
“Right.
I’ll arrange everything,” he said.
“Registry office, flowers, photos, honeymoon.
All you have to do is turn up at the registry office in a beautiful dress, looking sexy, ready to say yes and not—all right.”
“Slow down.” Kate smiled at his exuberance.
“We’re getting married,” he shouted.
“She said yes.”
“Actually, I said all right.” Kate jumped into his arms to give him a kiss.
“Blimey, you’ve only known one another a few weeks.
Sure you’re not rushing it?” Simon asked.
“That’s exactly what we’re doing—rushing it.” Richard grinned.
“Are you all right with a registry office wedding?” Simon asked Kate.
“Or did you want to walk down the aisle?”
“We can do it in church if you want,” Richard said.
“Though I’d prefer not.”
“A registry office is fine.” Kate didn’t want the trimmings.
“When are you going to tie the knot?” Fax asked.
“As quickly as possible.
Today if we could.
Now fuck off you two.
My fiancée and I have things to discuss.”
Richard took her hand in his and pulled her faster toward her apartment.
“They didn’t say congratulations,” Kate muttered.
“Fax is jealous.
He fancies you himself.”
She couldn’t believe that.
Fax was always asking about Lucy.
“Let’s keep this a secret,” Richard said.
“Not tell anyone until it’s done.
I know we haven’t known each other long, but we don’t want people telling us it’s too soon.
That’s probably the reason for Fax’s horse face.
He’s so bloody cautious, it’s a wonder he ever takes a photo.”
Richard tugged her into his arms.
“We’ll get married and afterwards we’ll have a party and invite your friends and relations and mine.”
Kate knew there wouldn’t be many of her friends, and no relations.
She’d told him her parents were dead.
“I don’t want thousands of my relatives there and none of yours.” Richard stroked her cheek.
“This way, it’s our special day.
Nor do I want my mother interfering.
God, I’d love to turn up on my parents’ doorstep, holding your hand, telling them you’re my wife.
Where do you want to go on honeymoon?”
Kate felt as though she’d been shot up in a rocket and was exploding in every direction.
Richard squeezed her hand.
“Where do you want to go, Kate?
Let me make your dreams come true.”
Could he?
At that moment he seemed capable of anything.
“Hawaii,” she said.
“It’s yours.” Richard grinned.
Kate gasped with shock, but she believed him.
* * * * *
Fax downloaded the pictures into his computer and stared at the screen, wishing by willpower alone he could make it not have happened.
The first image showed Kate arriving at Woolwich registry office looking so happy, her face glowed like a newly opened flower.
He’d taken several shots of her between the limo and the door.
She’d even turned at the entrance, looked back and laughed, as though she’d been posing for his camera, although Fax felt certain she hadn’t seen him.
That particular image was wonderful and terrible.
It captured her joy, the last moment of her happiness.
He could have stopped her going inside, but he’d been a coward.
Fax had convinced himself there was no point, because it was too late.
Kate thought Richard was going to marry her and she’d turned up in a stunning ivory wedding dress.
The damage had been done and the bet lost or won depending on how you looked at it.
Richard was the loser, but the prick wouldn’t see it.
As Fax waited outside, his mood was briefly lightened by the hope that Richard
was
inside, or would turn up late, because whilst he might not have started out loving Kate, he’d fallen in love on the way.
On the other hand, Fax knew Kate deserved far better than to be married to a dickhead like Richard Winter.
This way, she’d be hurt, but would survive.
Fax clicked to the next photograph.
There had been no need for him to wait after Kate walked into the building, but he had.
The longer he stood there the more certain he was that Richard wasn’t inside.
Fax knew no matter how bad he felt, it was nothing compared to what Kate had to be feeling.
Other couples had come and gone, and still Fax waited because Kate still waited.
He rang Richard but the bastard had his mobile off.
When she emerged, Fax had raised his camera almost as a protective barrier.
She looked smaller, as though she’d lost something.
That’s what Richard had done, Fax thought.
He’d sunk his teeth in her neck and sucked the life out of her.
It was almost enough to make Fax believe in vampires.
Kate’s face was as pale as her dress.
He could have approached her, but to say what?
Instead, Fax followed her to Greenwich, taking more bloody pictures hoping now she’d turn round, see him and hit him so he felt less guilty.
She’d sunk so deep inside herself, Fax thought he could have sat next to her on the bus without her seeing.
He trailed her to her apartment.
Kate took a key from her shoe and went in.
While Fax was too much of a coward to talk to her, he was not too much of a coward to talk to Richard.
Armed with copies of the photographs, he went to Richard’s apartment.
“Brought your money?” Richard asked.
“Fuck off, you bastard.”
Richard grabbed the brown envelope from Fax’s hand and ripped it open.
Fax watched as he went through the pictures, expecting a flicker of remorse, hoping the photographs would achieve at least something worthwhile.
“God, she looks a bit pissed off.” Richard grinned.
Fax gasped.
“She was more than a bit pissed off, you fuckwit.”
“She’ll get over it.”
“I thought you loved her.
She
thought you loved her.”
“She wasn’t a bad fuck, but she’s only a waitress.”
A flash of rage swept through Fax.
“She’s better than you, Richard.”
“You knew about the deal.
If you’re so bloody pious, why didn’t you tell her?”
“I wish I had.”
Richard narrowed his eyes.
“When are you going to pay me?”
Fax’s hands clenched into fists.
“I never agreed to this, but I made the mistake of giving you the benefit of the doubt.
I watched you with her and thought you cared.
If you had an ounce of decency you’d tell her you got cold feet or something.”
“Tell Simon he owes me.” Richard slammed the door.
Fax couldn’t ride off straightaway.
He was shaking too much.
By the time he’d put on his helmet, he knew what he had to do.
Telling Lucy meant he’d never have a chance with her because she’d think he was a complete bastard, but that was his punishment for ever wanting Richard Winter to be his friend.