A Good Catch Part 13

Her father would punch him. That would hurt. He rinsed the shaving foam from his face and patted his cheeks dry. Using the mirror, he peeled off the drying loo paper and found the cut had stopped bleeding. He splashed a good deal of Paco Rabanne aftershave on his palms and slapped it on his face. The stinging made his bloodshot eyes water even more.

In his pain he heard the front door open once more and his mother call up the stairs. 'Jesse. Your best man's here. I'm sending him up to get you ready.'

Loveday looked at the now-redundant but still horrible, orange bridesmaid dress hanging on the back of her bedroom door. Why had she told Greer she liked it? Why had Greer chosen it for her? It hid every good feature of hers; made Loveday feel utterly frumpy and uns.e.xy. She still hadn't been allowed to see The Wedding Dress. That was Top Secret. Loveday had more than a suspicion that it was nothing like the marmalade horror. But, she realised suddenly, she wasn't going to have to wear it after all. When she married Jesse, she'd make Greer wear a horrible dress. She laughed at the thought, then checked her bedside clock again. She'd hear from Jesse soon. He'd come round to get her after he had explained everything to Greer and her family. Perhaps they would go away for a few days until the dust settled. That would probably be best.

She heard a heavy knock on the front door. This was him, it was Jesse! She ran out of her room, taking the stairs on the narrow staircase two at a time. Her mother got there a split second ahead of her and opened the door, revealing Greer's father. She stood a little way behind her mother. Mr Clovelly had obviously come to tell them the wedding was off. But he looked quite relaxed about it. He was kissing Loveday's mum and smiling.

He saw Loveday, breathless and expectant and said, 'Morning, Loveday. You look as excited as Greer! She's so thrilled with this snow. Are you ready? I'll take you up the hill in the BMW. Apparently the hairdresser is stuck over at St Agnes, but her mother's boyfriend has a Land Rover so he'll get her over here as soon as he's done the milking.' Loveday stood stock-still, barely able to take all this in. Where was Jesse? Why was everything still going ahead? Surely he'd say something before it was too late?

'Come on then, Loveday,' chided her mother. 'Get your dress bag and shoes. And don't forget the silk poinsettia for your hair.'

Mickey was preening himself in the mirrored wardrobe door of Jesse's room. 'I look all right in this, don't I? Loveday won't be able to keep her hands off me.'

Jesse was fumbling with the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt. His heart was beating way too fast and his breathing was more like a pant. Mickey turned away from his own reflection to look at Jesse. 'You'm real nervous, eh, boy? You shouldn't have had a skinful with Grant last night. Bad move.'

'I'm not doing this right.' Jesse looked at Mickey, trying to find the words. 'I am not doing the right thing.'

'I tell 'e you're not. You're doing those b.u.t.tons up all wrong. Let me do them for you.' Jesse stood shaky but compliant as Mickey did up his s.h.i.+rt b.u.t.tons, fixed his collar, got him into his pinstriped trousers and pinned the cravat. 'We'll put our tailcoats on at the church. Don't want to crease them.'

Jan came in with two mugs of tea. 'Don't you boys look smart?' She gave each of them a once-over, straightening their cravats. 'You're as white as a ghost still, Jesse. Get this tea down you. Mickey, you look after him at the altar and make sure he don't faint.'

'I need to speak to Greer,' said Jesse. 'I must go and see her.'

His mother laughed. 'You'll be seeing plenty of her after the wedding. You'll see her every day for the rest of your life.'

Jesse was desperate, his voice catching. 'I have things I need to talk to her about. It'll be too late if I don't go now.'

'You're staying here, even if I have to get Grant to hold you down.' His mother took his hand. ''Tis nerves, that's all.' She turned to Mickey. 'Come on, Best Man. What does it say in the book about nervous grooms?'

Before Mickey could think of an answer, the bedroom door was thrown open and Grant stood in the doorway in full uniform. He saluted the groom and said: 'Escort Party for Mr Jesse Behenna ready and waiting. It is the brother of the groom's duty to get a hair of the dog down his neck before he bottles it. And a Marine always does his duty.'

The little party of Grant, Mickey and Jesse prepared to leave the house. Mickey and Jesse had their tailcoats safely in protective bags to put on at the last minute. A light flurry of snow danced through the air; Jesse reached for his parka. The scent of Loveday clung to it and he immediately visualised her lying on it as he made love to her. It took all his willpower not to bury his face in it and drink her in once more. Then he saw it. On the lining by the fishtail back was the unmistakable stain of their pa.s.sion, and it was red with blood.

12.

Greer looked wonderful. Her hair had grown in the last six months and was styled into a glossy 1920s bob. Her make-up was natural and glowing, her dress exquisite. Her high pert bust, nipped-in waist and slender bottom were celebrated and wors.h.i.+pped by it. Greer was a vision of serenity and fulfilment.

Loveday, on the other hand, was not. She was having her hair pulled and backcombed by the hairdresser's sister who had come to lend a hand, seeing as the snow had made them almost two hours late. The blowdry had left Loveday's face scarlet. Her make-up lay thick on her young skin and she could feel her spot fighting vigorously to break its way through the crowd of concealer, foundation and powder. She felt sick, hungover and horribly emotional. Where was Jesse? Tears threatened yet again and she reached forward to grab a tissue from the box in front her.

'Feeling sweaty, are you?' asked the hated hairdresser, yanking the hair on the back of her neck and pinning to her head, with unnecessary ferocity, the ghastly silk poinsettia.

A tear fled down Loveday's face and she mopped it quickly with the tissue. 'No.'

'You're feeling very hot. Crying always gets me hot too.'

'I'm not crying.'

'Are you crying, Loveday?' asked Greer, looking like a cool breeze in front of her French cheval mirror.

'No.'

'Ah, Loveday, you're such a softie. It is emotional watching your best friend get married to the boy of her dreams, but don't cry off all that make-up. You'll have that spot popping up again.'

'I'm not crying.' Loveday brushed the vestige of another tear away.

'I know what will make you smile. Look at this.'

Loveday watched in the mirror's reflection as Greer opened a satin drawstring bag and took out a delicate garter made of gauze and swan's-down with tiny glittering crystals. The two hairdressers gasped in wonder, their mouths forming perfect Os.

'That's beautiful, that is,' said the older one. 'Put it on.'

Loveday watched as Greer shucked off her bridal slippers and pointed one perfect ballerina foot inside the garter. Then her slender, manicured fingers teased it up over her calf and her knee. Finally it whispered to a halt and lay perfectly in the middle of her slender thigh. It clung just below the lacy top of her sheer ivory stockings.

'My G.o.d, that'll drive Jesse Behenna mad,' screeched the hairdresser, grinning.

Greer let the satin folds of her dress fall perfectly back to the floor and smiled a secretive smile.

Loveday was being given the last squirt of hairspray and looked at herself in the mirror. Her natural curls had been tortured into a regiment of ringlets. Her young, open face was now made hard with darkened eyebrows and peach lipstick. Her throat and chest were covered in nerve-induced red blotches and the hated dress was digging into her. Where on earth was Jesse? Why hadn't he come?

Jesse was being helped up the snowy lane towards St Peter's. The lads in the Golden Hind had given him more than a hair of the dog. He'd had the entire pelt.

'Come on, little bro,' said Grant, pulling him up the lane. 'Your destiny awaits.'

'I don't wanta get married today,' he slurred, trying to pull away from them both. 'I can't.'

'Don't be silly,' Mickey said firmly, taking Jesse's weight as he slid on an icy cobble. He looked over at Grant on the other side. 'You shouldn't have let 'im drink so much.'

Grant laughed unpleasantly. 'He'll be all right. He's only getting married. It's nothing serious, is it?'

'But Greer's going to kill me. I'm the best man. I'm supposed to be looking after him.'

'And I'm helping you, aren't I?'

The Reverend Rowena Davies was immensely understanding and compa.s.sionate. She had been an army chaplain and knew the frailties of men. She sat Jesse down on a rickety wooden ladder-backed chair and unlocked the vestry cupboard that was used by the mothers' and toddlers' group, raiding their refreshments shelf.

'There's a biscuit tin,' she said in triumph. 'Please G.o.d, let it not be empty.' Her prayer was answered. 'Oh dear. Ginger nuts. Still, needs must. Sit down here, Jesse, and eat these. We've got about twenty minutes to get you s.h.i.+pshape.'

From under a curtained shelf she then produced a kettle and a jar of instant coffee. 'Only black, I'm afraid. No milk but there's sugar. Make him a strong one, Mickey. Plenty of sugar. I'm going to nip out front and greet any early-comers.'

Mickey could have kissed her. 'Thanks, Vicar.'

'All in a day's work. See you shortly.'

Jesse drank the coffee, ate the biscuits and swallowed a couple of pills that Grant had in his pocket. 'They give us commandos these when we're on ops. Keeps us alert.'

'Speed?' asked Mickey, shocked.

Grant tapped the side of his nose. 'No name no pack drill.'

Whatever it was that Grant had given him, Jesse began to feel a little less drunk and a little more alert very quickly. Grant crouched over him, hands on his uniformed knees, and examined his brother's face. 'You're coming back to us, Jesse boy, you're coming back.'

'Grant, I ...' Jesse started to speak.

'Now don't do nothing stupid. We're going to walk into the church now and you and Mickey are going to look happy and sober. Got it? You're taking one for the team, ain't you now, boy? Can't let Daddy down.'

Terror gripped Jesse's heart again, but he nodded. 'How long have we got?'

Mickey checked his watch. 'About five minutes if she's on time.'

Edward Behenna burst into the vestry. 'What the h.e.l.l's going on?' He took one look at Jesse, who felt his resolve stiffen. He gulped back some more of the coffee and shook himself. He knew what he had to do.

Loveday had been brought to the church in one of Greer's cousin's cars. She was finding it hard to absorb what was actually going on around her. She found herself squashed into the back seat of an ancient Hillman Imp, with the cousin's husband driving gingerly over the compacted snow and the cousin twisting round in the front seat to talk nonstop at her. At least she left no s.p.a.ce for replies. Loveday's brain was left to wonder how on earth Jesse was going to stop this wedding.

The Hillman Imp couldn't make it up the lane to the church, so Loveday struggled over the front tip-up seat and out into the snow. It was cold but at least it had stopped snowing. Her pinching satin slippers might as well have been made from blotting paper as she trudged on up the road, the sound of the bells pealing in her ears, the cousin yakking by her side.

'You look beautiful.' Bryn Clovelly stood in awe as his only daughter stepped from her bedroom and stood in front of him. 'Give us a twirl.'

Greer obliged. 'Will I do, Daddy?'

'My darling, you'd do for a prince, never mind Jesse Behenna.'

They were alone in the house. Greer's mother had already left with her brother, Uncle Alan, and his wife, Auntie Lou, with a handbag stuffed full of tissues.

'You do like Jesse, don't you, Daddy? You do think he is going to be a good husband?' Greer felt suddenly nervous that maybe her father didn't want her to marry Jesse.

The truth was that Bryn was delighted at the thought of the merger with the Behenna fis.h.i.+ng fleet, and about all the money they were going to make now that the two families were one. A small gust of guilt hit him. Was this really the right thing to do?

'I'll marmalise him if he hurts you.' Greer's innocent smile of relief made him pity her, so he added, 'But he won't.'

There was the honk of a car horn outside.

'Your carriage awaits, my lady.' Smiling, Bryn proffered his arm. Greer slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow and took a deep breath. 'Ready?'

The 1955 cream Bentley with its wedding ribbons drew lots of attention. Its slowly negotiating the snow on the road down to Trevay meant that the locals could get a good look at Greer Clovelly on her way to marry Jesse Behenna. Greer made the most of it, smiling and offering little waves to the children through the big gla.s.s windows. She felt like a princess. At the bottom of the lane to the church, the Bentley stopped. The driver in his dove-grey peaked cap turned and said to Bryn, 'I'll 'ave to let 'e out 'ere. She'll never make it up to the church.'

Greer looked horrified. 'I can't walk up. My dress will be ruined.'

'I thought this might happen, so I've organised a little help,' smiled Bryn. 'Look over there.' He pointed towards the harbour. Sitting on the wall were two of the Trevay lifeboat crew in yellow wellies and thick navy wool jumpers. One was the c.o.xswain, the other a strapping younger crewman. They got off the wall and came towards the car.

Bryn stepped out and shook their hands. 'Morning, lads. This is very good of you.'

The c.o.xswain of the lifeboat, a wily old seaman who'd seen just about anything there was to see in life said, 'Our pleasure, Mr Clovelly. Can't 'ave this beautiful maid getting 'er feet wet, can we?'

Bryn walked to the other side of the car and opened Greer's door. The young lifeboat man stepped forward and smiled an appreciative smile at Greer. 'You look lovely,' he said, before sliding one strong arm under her bottom and the other around her back. He lifted her easily out of the car and began the short climb up the lane towards St Peter's.

At the church door, a damp-footed and s.h.i.+vering Loveday watched Greer draped in the arms of the handsome Stevie (everyone at school had fancied him), looking for all the world like a b.l.o.o.d.y poster for An Officer and a Gentleman. Loveday felt trapped in a nightmare that she wasn't about to wake up from any time soon. She hadn't seen Jesse or Mickey, but the Reverend Rowena had whispered something about having to sober the groom up, which had sent Loveday's brain into meltdown. Was Jesse going to leave it right till the last moment to drunkenly jilt Greer in front of everyone? This was not how it should be. Loveday's feet grew colder and wetter.

Greer was now two paces away from Loveday and smiling happily in the arms of the handsome Stevie. 'Isn't this romantic, Loveday?'

The wedding photographer took a couple of shots of Greer in Stevie's arms before Stevie put Greer down gently inside the church porch, which was more or less dry.

Loveday tried a bright smile, but inside her thoughts were tumbling around; a terrible confusion of guilt and fear and an over-riding yearning for Jesse to come and sort everything out. Knowing that this radiant bride was about to have her bubble burst tore at her insides. Still, better now than a few months down the line when a messy divorce would be on the cards. 'You look wonderful, Greer.'

'Would you sort my veil out for me?' Greer asked her.

'Sure.' With hands that were shaking from cold and apprehension, Loveday lifted the froth of soft tulle over Greer's face.

'Daddy,' called Greer.

'Just coming, my love.' Bryn replied, palming fifty pounds to the c.o.xswain and saying sotto voce, 'Cheers, mate.'

'Come on, Loveday. Stand behind me and Daddy and let's go. I can't wait to see Jesse's face when he sees me.' Greer watched as Loveday got into position and then she took her father's arm. The church bells had stopped pealing and there was a moment's silence before the organ struck up Mendelssohn's 'Wedding March'.

Jesse's heart was hammering in his throat. He felt dizzy. Mickey touched his arm. 'You OK?'

The organ's swelling notes were increasing the panic he felt. He started breathing loudly through his mouth.

'Here she comes,' nudged Mickey. 'Look at 'er.'

Jesse held the back of his pew for support as he turned. Greer was coming towards him as if on a cloud. He wanted to shout 'stop', but instead his eyes slid to Loveday walking behind, her eyes glued desperately to Jesse's. His brain was telling his mouth to open and speak, but when he tried it would not obey. He turned quickly back to the altar. Behind him he could hear his mum sniffing into her hanky.

The Reverend Rowena had seen nervous grooms before, but never as stricken as Jesse. She smiled at him and offered a prayer to bring him peace.