The Bridesmaid Pact

‘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.

Chapter Five (#ulink_4467897e-8e09-5544-9f71-68167cd9139c)

Beth

‘Nervous?’ Matt held my hand as we sat in the waiting room, on a warm spring day in the middle of April, at the fertility clinic we’d been referred to by our GP, Dr McGrath. My hand felt clammy and sweaty, and my heart was thumping like a railway train. I knew it was my fault we hadn’t conceived. Matt’s tests had come back all clear, and mine were inconclusive. I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that it was my body telling me it was my fault that we couldn’t have babies.

Luckily, I’d explained the situation to Dr McGrath. She’d been very understanding, and said that I still might have a chance, and I shouldn’t beat myself up about it. But I knew. I was being punished for what I’d done, all those years ago. And Matt didn’t know. I’d never told him, because when we met it didn’t seem important, and now I didn’t know how to.

‘Mr and Mrs Davies?’ A smiling nurse ushered us into the consultant’s office.