Mother of the Bride (19 page)

Jess laughed. Her own hopes plummeted. She was dreading spending so much time around Liam bloody Flynn and was hoping to ask Amy to introduce her to someone else from Daniel's work or old college crowd. People always seemed to meet other people at weddings! That's how her mam and dad had met! And Deirdre and Shay had met at his cousin's wedding. It was a well-known fact that a happy occasion like a wedding was the perfect venue to meet someone; better than a nightclub when you were both off your face drunk. What could be more romantic than a wedding!

‘Jess, are you listening? I was trying to decide if we should give favours at each place-setting. They do it at some weddings.'

‘Excuse my ignorance, but what the hell is a favour?'

‘It's a little token gift for each wedding guest to show that they are special. It could be sweets, or biscuits, or a little toy, or a glass figurine. It's really big in America.'

‘I don't think people will be expecting it at an Irish wedding!' Jess teased. ‘They'd far prefer a few drinks at the bar.'

‘I don't want the wedding to turn into a drunken hooley like your sister's wedding,' Amy retorted hotly.

Jess muffled her disappointment. She'd been hoping the wedding would be just as much fun as Deirdre's had been. They hadn't got to bed till almost 6 a.m., and the chef in the hotel had been bribed by her dad to cook an early-morning fry-up for those who could stomach it before they went to bed. Deirdre and Shay, happy and
bedraggled, had headed up the queue for sausages and rashers and fried eggs.

‘Jess, I want my wedding to be perfect. You understand, don't you?'

‘Of course I do,' she reassured. Jess knew that getting married and having a big wedding with all the trimmings had always been Amy's dream. She'd been talking about it since she was about eight, when they used to play Barbie weddings and dress themselves and their dolls up. That had been an age ago, and though Jess had firmly left those days behind, Amy was busy playing her own grown-up version of dress-up Barbie with her wedding plans.

‘Jess, I'm so lucky to have you as my chief bridesmaid, as you know what Ciara is like!'

‘I'm honoured.' Jess laughed. ‘But Ciara's a good kid. She's just a bit different to you, that's all. Mam says sisters are either like peas in a pod or chalk and cheese.'

‘Cheese, definitely, with that wild child! She has Mum and Dad worn out with her antics, and now she says that she is going to fail her exams.'

‘Thought she was a clever clogs.'

‘Yeah, when it suits her, but drama is her middle name. God knows what she'll do on the wedding day!'

‘She'll be your beautiful bridesmaid and sister,' Jess reassured.

‘Jess, you've always been my rock, and such a friend and support. I know that I can trust you totally on my big day, while Ciara will probably act up like she usually does.'

Good old reliable me, thought Jess to herself. Third time being a bridesmaid with not a sign of a romance of my own! Up and down church aisles like a yo-yo. I've already got two godchildren, and no doubt when Amy has a baby I'll be a godmother again!

She tried not to be a little jealous as she thought how life was all mapped out for Amy – engagement, wedding and babies – while she
had not even got one foot on the relationship ladder yet, and maybe never would . . .

‘One more glass of wine and then we'll get the bill,' Amy called over to the young Polish waitress.

Forty minutes later, as they settled up and went to get their coats, Amy, almost as an afterthought, remembered to ask Jess about her life.

‘Jess, what have you been up to?'

‘Well, my class are making their First Communion in two weeks' time,' Jess smiled. ‘So it's my job to turn twenty-seven little devils into angels so they won't let us down!'

Amy yawned.

Jess flushed. Having the First Communion class was a big deal in St Brigid's School. OK, her life might not be as exciting as Amy and Dan's, but to her mind getting her class of eight-year-olds through the minefield of first confessions and rehearsals in their local parish church without incident would be a minor miracle. Then she was trying to teach them to sing a load of hymns, and had to get involved with the parents organizing the post-communion class party back in the school. To top it all, she still hadn't found a suitable outfit to wear, given the fact that she was meant to look suitably stylish and professional on the day.

‘It's a really nice thing to be involved in, but a lot of work.'

‘Mmmm, I'm sure it is,' Amy said, putting her wallet back in her handbag. ‘Listen, Jess, I'll give you a shout next week, as we have to get shoes for you and Ciara.'

Jess prayed that she wouldn't be expected to wear killer high heels or the like for the wedding, but thinking of Ciara knew that Amy's sister would point-blank refuse to put anything on her feet that didn't suit her. She'd probably want to wear trainers.

‘Take care of yourself,' Jess urged, as they both walked up to catch the late-night Luas tram. She had never seen Amy so uptight and distracted. ‘And remember to give my love to Dan.'

Amy watched from the corner of her eye as Dan packed his large blue sports bag for the weekend. They'd had a massive row the night before, screaming so much at each other she was sure the couple in the next apartment must have heard them fighting. Dan was insisting that they go away for the weekend, while she had told him they were staying in Dublin.

‘Amy, the surf report is good, so it's going to be a great weekend!' Dan begged, trying to get her to change her mind as he checked and packed his new wetsuit and his surf gear and equipment. ‘Come on, Amy, you'd better get a move on, as we want to be able to leave first thing after work tomorrow!'

‘I told you that I'm not going!' she said angrily. ‘We can't go! There is far too much to do.'

Amy had no intention of wasting her time watching the lads surf in freezing cold water. It might be March, but the weather, as always for St Paddy's weekend, was bitterly cold, and when the sun did deign to make an appearance it was usually followed by heavy rain showers.

‘Dan, the weather forecast is bad, and there are lots of things we need to do this weekend.'

‘Lahinch was booked months ago!' he spat out, furious with her.
‘Conor's girlfriend Kim is going, and Jamie is bringing Sophie, and Liam and Jade are going. We can't cancel now! It's going to be great crack, and the houses we've rented are literally on the beach.'

‘OK, it sounds great,' she said grudgingly, ‘but we've too much on: we need to meet that photographer we picked and run through things with him in person. And I promised to go with Ciara and Jess to look for shoes to go with their dresses.'

‘You just don't want to go away with me to Lahinch!' he said, standing up. ‘Admit it!'

‘'You're a hundred per cent right,' she said angrily. ‘I don't want to go! I've got far too much to do with the wedding.'

‘You are obsessed with the bloody wedding!' he shouted, glowering at her. ‘It's all you ever talk about or think about! The wedding! The fecking wedding!'

‘Dan, that's not fair!' she argued, hurt by his accusation. ‘We're getting married in less than twelve weeks' time and there is so much to do!'

‘Well, you just go bloody do it, because I've had enough of flowers and menus and invitations and music and readings and what kind of tie or waistcoat I have to wear, and all that crap! I'm sick of it.'

Amy stopped. She had never seen Dan so angry.

‘Dan!'

‘Don't Dan me!' he countered fiercely. ‘I've had enough of this bloody wedding, morning, noon and night. It is all you ever talk about. You used to be fun, a laugh, but now you've totally changed. You're not the Amy I proposed to in Venice! You've turned into some weird kind of Bridezilla!'

Amy couldn't believe what he was saying.

‘I should never have said that we would get married. We were happy as we were, now it's all changed.'

‘What do you mean?' she whispered, conscious of a sinking feeling in her stomach.

‘I mean, maybe we should think about this whole marriage thing, and if it is really what we want.'

‘It's what I want,' she said firmly. ‘I love you. I want us to be married and spend the rest of our lives together.'

Her sentiments were greeted by a yawning silence. What was Dan thinking! What did he want?

‘I want to spend my life with you, too,' he admitted grudgingly. ‘But I don't care about the rest of it! Listen, stay in Dublin! Do whatever silly thing you think needs doing, but I'm going surfing with the lads! There was a time all you wanted was for the two of us to pack up and head off to the West, surf, swim, laze on the beach, walk, just have fun and a few pints and a meal. Now it's all changed. You've changed.'

Dan sounded sad, as if they had lost something, something they would never get back.

Amy was tempted to say ‘Feck the wedding', and all the plans, and just agree to go with him, fling a few things into her backpack and wrap up warm in her big red fleece! But her anxieties about not having perfect photographs of their big day, or her sister wearing the wrong shoes with her bridesmaid dress just seemed more important. Dan could surely understand that?

‘Dan, just go with the lads. Surf all day. I'll stay here for the weekend. It's only two days, and I'll cook a lovely dinner for when you get back on Sunday,' she promised, trying to appease him.

Dan said nothing; he just bent down, fiddling with the spare runners and wet socks he had put in the bag.

‘Whatever you want, Amy,' he said. ‘Whatever! I'm going to bed.'

Amy sat stunned on the leather couch. OK, Dan was upset with her, but at least it was sorted. She went over, turned on her laptop and began searching on the internet for gold strappy sandals for her sister and Jess in some of the Dublin shoe shops they'd visit on Saturday. House of Frazer in Dundrum had a huge selection: maybe they should start off looking there. She also organized to meet Julien
Marks, the photographer, to discuss the type of photos they wanted and the arrangements for Castle Gregory. Dan was asleep in bed, his back turned to her, when she finally slid in beside him. They slept side by side, without touching, all night.

In the morning he was in the shower and gone before she had time to say a word to him, just catching a flash of his figure with his sports bag flung over his shoulder disappearing out the door.

‘Have a good time!' she yelled.

‘See you Sunday,' he snarled gruffly, not even returning to give her a good-morning kiss.

She tried to shake off her sense of unease about his behaviour, but, not wanting to get in another fight with him, just let it go. She'd text him later.

She kept herself busy all weekend, watching a video with Aisling and Nikki on Friday night, and on Saturday going on a shoe-shopping blitz with Jess and Ciara, which resulted in the two most perfect pairs of high-heeled gold strappy shoes for the girls. She hadn't been able to resist a pair for herself, too, and planned to wear them on honeymoon.

She'd also met with the photographer in Sandycove. Julien Marks was great, very down-to-earth, but his prices were pretty steep. He showed her the various wedding packages he did, which ranged from the very formal to completely casual. She'd fallen in love with the type of wedding photos he took: some were classic, and others in black and white and colour, were just that bit quirky and different. She was glad that she'd had the chance to run through things with him and discuss the kind of album she wanted to order.

On Saturday evening she'd joined Tara and Sarah and a few friends for pizza and a few glasses of wine down in Dun Laoghaire, getting a taxi home on her own at midnight, as she had no interest in hitting the Leeson Street nightclubs. She had phoned Dan and sent him a few messages throughout the day and evening but his phone
seemed to be off, or maybe he had just forgotten to recharge it.

On Sunday she had gone for a brisk walk on Sandymount Strand and tidied the apartment, washing the floor and changing their bed and cleaning the bathroom and shower until they were sparkling. She'd had lunch with her parents, and got two nice steaks and a bottle of Dan's favourite wine for dinner. He'd be ravenous after surfing all weekend, and she was dying to hear about the trip. The weather had picked up on Saturday afternoon and stayed dry on Sunday, so it would have been fine surfing weather. He should be in good form. He'd probably get home by 7 p.m.

She tried to dismiss her concern, and sat down to have another go at the invitation list, adding even more friends' names to the sheet in her bulging pink Filofax, and deleting a few cousins that she hardly ever saw. By eight she was panicking, and kept phoning and texting Dan, wondering where he was. At ten o'clock she rang Liam to ask if he was still with Dan.

‘He's with me,' admitted Liam. ‘He's staying in my place for the night but I'll get him to phone you tomorrow.'

Amy wanted to scream at Liam and demand that he send Daniel back to her straight away, but instead she just said, ‘I see.'

She didn't sleep a wink all night, and dragged herself into work the next morning, leaving her phone on all day – even when she went to meetings – in case Dan tried to contact her. She felt sick and panicky, and couldn't concentrate, snapping at Niamh Owens – the new junior in the firm – and doing her utmost to keep out of her boss's way. Norah had antennae about personal troubles, and Amy had no intention of discussing herself and Dan's problems with her. At ten past five she escaped the office and rushed home. She sat on the couch drinking coffee till almost nine, too nauseated and tense to eat.

A few minutes later she heard Dan's key in the lock and jumped up to greet him.