Runaway Bride: A laugh out loud funny and feel good rom com

‘No, someone I met hitch-hiking. He’s been very kind to me.’

‘You’re kidding! You’re staying with a stranger you met hitch-hiking?’

‘I didn’t have any choice. I had nowhere else to go.’

‘Christ, Kitty! What the hell are you playing at, putting yourself in danger like that?’ she exploded. ‘He could be a sex offender for all you know.’

‘He isn’t. Just a nice lad who wants to help.’

‘Yeah? And what’s in it for him? Did he try it on with you?’

‘Course not.’

‘He will. No one does anything unless they expect to get a return somewhere down the line.’ She sounded like my mum.

‘Not this guy,’ I said firmly. ‘He isn’t like that.’

‘Why did you run off, Kit?’

‘I couldn’t stay, after… it’s Ethan.’ I steeled myself. I was going to have to say it sooner or later. ‘He… he cheated on me, Laur. At the reception. Maybe not for the first time, I don’t know.’

‘No! He wouldn’t do that,’ she said, her voice all amazement. ‘Not Ethan, surely. He loves you to pieces, everybody knows it.’

‘He would because he bloody did. I saw him at it.’ The image rose up again in my mind; even more vivid, more painful in my memory than it had been to watch. ‘If I hadn’t, I never would’ve believed it.’

‘Shit, I mean… what, like a drunken snog or – you know, the full works?’

‘What’s the difference? He did it. After ten years, on our fucking wedding day, he…’ I could barely hold back a sob. ‘I never want to see that bastard again. Never.’

‘When are you coming home?’

I took a deep breath. This was going to be the hard bit.

‘I’m not. I haven’t got a home there, not now.’

‘Course you have,’ she said, gentling her voice. ‘You don’t have to go back to Ethan. There’s your mum. Or I can make space for you. Come home, Kit, to your family.’

‘I can’t. I just… can’t. I’m not strong enough right now. Physically or emotionally.’

‘Strong enough for what?’

‘For any of it. Mum. Ethan. If I see him, he’ll… I don’t know how I’d react. It just feels like—’ I could hear the panic lacing my voice. ‘It’s too much, Laur; too much. You can’t make me go back.’

‘But it’s a breakdown, can’t you see that?’ She sounded scared. ‘You’re not acting rationally. Please. Tell me where you are and let me come get you. You don’t have to face anyone, just come on home where I can take care of you.’

‘Sorry, Laur. I love you, but… no. I’m staying here, just until I find somewhere I can start again. You can advertise my job whenever you want.’

‘Never mind your bloody job. You’re not safe, Kitty. You need to get home.’

‘I am safe, I swear. And if you care about me, you’ll respect the fact this is where I need to be right now. Tell the boys I miss them, okay? I’ll ring you when I can.’

‘But—’

I hung up.

Nan was next. I made sure to withhold my number before I called.

‘Hello?’

‘Hiya Nana. It’s Kitty.’

‘Oh, hello, love,’ she said, sounding pleased to hear from me but not at all surprised. In the early stages of Alzheimer’s, she tended to get a little confused about anything too recent. My sudden disappearance might already have slipped from her memory.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked gently.

‘Can’t complain, can’t complain. Just the old pain in my leg, but it’s bearable. Oh, did I tell you I saw Rita yesterday? She was asking for you.’

‘Who’s Rita?’

She tutted. ‘You know. Rita, her with the fancy man. She used to mind you sometimes when you were a baby, don’t you remember?’

I couldn’t help smiling. ‘Oh. That Rita. Er, yeah, course.’

‘When are you coming to see me, Kitty? I haven’t seen you or your dad for ages.’

I winced. ‘Dad’s… not here, Nan. Remember? He died last year.’

‘Oh. Yes,’ she said vaguely. ‘Yes, he did, didn’t he? We had corned beef sandwiches at the wake…’

This had been happening more and more recently. And it hurt like hell, every time. Nan forgetting Dad was dead almost made me forget, and then the grief hit me all over again, fresh as the day I’d lost him.

God, I missed him. If he was here, there was no way I’d be forced to rely on the kindness of strangers in campervans. Ethan might’ve been the golden boy in most people’s eyes, but Dad had never trusted him; never liked the possessive way he’d behaved around me.

‘I just rang to tell you I’m on holiday,’ I said to Nana, my voice choked. ‘I’ll be gone a little while. I’ll call whenever I can, okay? Love you very much.’

‘Love you too, my chicken. Don’t forget to send us a postcard, will you?’ Nan had a massive collection of postcards, everywhere from Bridlington to Brisbane, insisting on one from every friend or relative who’d been away in the last fifty years.

‘I’ll do my best. The post isn’t very good here.’

‘Where are you, love?’

‘Um… Iceland,’ I fabricated wildly.

The sound of her musical doorbell trilled in the background.

‘Who’s that then?’ I heard her levering herself to her feet, and a minute later the front door opened with a click. ‘Oh, Petra! Now guess who I’ve got here on the phone? She tells me she’s in Iceland.’

Mum! Of all the times she could’ve called round. I hurriedly hit the End Call button.