Read The Accidental Proposal Online
Authors: Matt Dunn
‘You’re right, Sam. We should always be honest with each other. And if that’s the case, then there’s something I’ve got to tell you.’
Over Sam’s shoulder, I can see Dan frantically shaking his head, but I’m determined to ignore him, as I can’t possibly marry Sam this afternoon – especially in a church – without her knowing. But before I get a chance, she reaches up and puts a finger on my lips.
‘No, Edward, there’s something else I have to tell you first. Or rather, I have to apologize. For not trusting you.’
‘What? When?’
‘On your stag night.’
Oh crap. Talk about teeing it up. ‘Sam, I . . .’
She nods, then takes my hand. ‘I mean, I know Dan promised to look after you, but . . . well, he has enough problems looking after himself sometimes.’
‘Don’t mind me,’ says Dan, looking a little affronted.
‘I’m sorry, Dan. It’s not that I didn’t trust you either, but I know how you can get . . . distracted. So I thought Edward might need some help.’
I look down at her quizzically. ‘What kind of help?’
‘You know. To get back to your hotel room. Safely. And, well . . .’ She starts to blush. ‘On your own.’
‘Because you didn’t trust me?’
‘No, because I didn’t want anything to happen to you – and there is a difference. So when
I eventually found you . . .’
‘What do you mean, “found me”?’
Sam grips my hand even tighter. ‘I came to look for you. In the club.’
Oh even crapper. That means she’ll have seen what I did. But hang on. If she did, and she still wants to get married . . .
‘Anyway, like I suspected, you were asleep in the corner, while Dan was off having a snog with what looked like some bloke in a dress.’
I look over at Dan, who’s hopping uncomfortably from one foot to the other. ‘Yes, well, appearances can be deceptive,’ he says. ‘Although now I think about it, she did have a very big Adam’s apple.’
‘Women don’t have Adam’s apples,’ says Patrick.
‘This one did,’ says Dan, defensively. ‘She was just big-boned. At least, she would have been, had—’
‘She actually been a woman?’ suggests Patrick.
‘So, anyway,’ continues Sam. ‘I thought I’d better try and get you back to your room safely. And then, by the time I got you undressed, and got that fat suit off you – thanks, Dan – and into bed, well, I thought I might as well stay.’
‘To check up on me?’
‘I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit, for one thing.’
Dan lets out a short laugh. ‘And they say romance is dead.’
‘So why didn’t you hang around? The next morning, I mean.’
Sam looks at me imploringly. ‘Because Patrick and I had to go and meet the vicar. Plus, I felt guilty that you might think I didn’t trust you to behave yourself. And that’s no basis for getting married, is it?’
Dan frowns. ‘Meeting the vicar?’
I ignore him while I struggle to process this new information, which as far as I can tell is all good. Not only is my girlfriend, my
fiancée
, not having an affair, but it turns out that neither am I. For a moment, I wonder whether I should apologize for my behaviour over the past couple of weeks, and tell her what I’ve been worried about. But what would be the point?
‘No, Sam,’ I say. ‘It isn’t.’
She smiles at me again. ‘Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?’
‘Nothing. Or at least, it’ll keep. Until after the wedding, in any case.’
‘So you do still want to get married to me. After all this?’
I take her in my arms, my heart feeling as if it’s about to burst. ‘Of course. If you still want to marry
me
, that is?’
Sam nods. ‘You don’t think I’d get all dressed up like this for just anyone, do you?’
As I try hard to swallow the lump in my throat, Patrick clears his. ‘You may now kiss the bride.’
So – being careful not to crumple her wedding dress, while trying to ignore Dan, who’s miming sticking his fingers down his throat – I do.
3.49 p.m.
We’re in Dan’s Porsche, driving towards the church, and while I’m conscious that maybe I should be feeling a little anxious, to be honest, after the events of the past few weeks, relief is my overpowering emotion. And funnily enough, it’s Dan who seems to be the nervous one.
‘I never thought this day would come,’ he says, rounding a corner at, unusually for Dan, well within the speed limit.
‘I know it seemed unlikely after everything that went on. And by the way, I still haven’t quite forgiven you for not telling me.’
He grins guiltily. ‘Yes, well, it kind of seemed like the perfect distraction. All the time you were worried about Sam cheating on you, there was no way you’d suspect what she was really up to. And besides, I wasn’t talking about you, Ed. I mean me. Settling down. With Polly.’
‘Oh. Sorry. Silly of me to think that you might be thinking of someone else rather than yourself for once in your life.’
‘Whereas you, well, I always thought you’d get married. No question of that. Even though for a long time it looked like it might be to Jane.’
I start to laugh, then it suddenly catches in my throat. ‘Bollocks.’
‘What?’ says Dan. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve remembered something else you’ve forgotten to tell Sam.’
‘No. It’s Jane.’
‘Where?’ says Dan, instinctively ducking down behind the wheel.
‘No – not here, dummy. What if she turns up and ruins everything?’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because I invited her, for one thing.’
‘What?’ Dan slams the brakes on and screeches to a stop. ‘Why?’
Once I’ve explained the circumstances, Dan rolls his eyes. ‘So what? Even if she does turn up, what’s she going to do?’
‘I dunno. But she could spoil it all by making a scene. Or by saying something nasty to Sam.’ I slap myself on the forehead. ‘Why am I so stupid?’
Dan looks at me as if he’s considering answering that question, before common sense gets the better of him. ‘Ed,’ he says, putting the car into gear again and setting off, ‘I don’t think she’s going to come.’
‘Why not? Because she doesn’t want to see me happy? Because it’d be too much for her to see me getting married to someone else? Maybe because she’s worried Sam will kick her arse again.’
‘No,’ says Dan, calmly. ‘Because you invited her to the registry office, and we’re going to the church, remember? And you’re safe there. She’s not allowed on holy ground.’
I stare at him for a second or two as what he’s just said sinks in, then grab him by the shoulder and shake him violently, nearly causing him to swerve into the oncoming traffic. ‘Dan, you’re still a genius,’ I say. ‘I could kiss you.’
‘Well, don’t,’ he says, shrugging me off.
We drive in silence the rest of the way to the church, both lost in our own thoughts. Eventually, Dan nudges me.
‘What’s the matter with you now?’
I sigh. ‘I don’t know. I mean, it
is
the happiest day of my life, but what’s strange is that I feel like crying.’
Dan shakes his head, but with a smile on his face. ‘You big girl’s blouse,’ he says, pulling the Porsche into a space outside the church that – fittingly for Dan – has ‘Pick Up Zone’ written on it. ‘Well, here we are,’ he announces, climbing out of the
car. ‘The end of an era.’
‘You mean you and me, right?’
Dan laughs, then points to my Mini, which is parked along the street with ‘Just Married’ written on the rear windscreen, and a number of Special Brew cans tied with string to the back – courtesy of Billy, no doubt. ‘Of course,’ he says, blipping the Porsche shut, before escorting me along the path towards the church.
I take a deep breath, then peer nervously in through the church door. Sam’s parents are there – fortunately without anything resembling a shotgun – along with various relatives and friends I half recognize from Sam’s photo albums. Wendy and Andy are sitting near the door, a
pushchair in the aisle next to them, obviously ready to make their escape if the crying gets too much – their baby’s, I mean, not mine – and even Natasha seems to have brought someone.
As my eyes grow accustomed to the gloom, I spot Polly, sitting by herself at the end of one of the pews. She looks gorgeous – not as gorgeous as Sam, of course – but as I start to walk inside, Dan stops me.
‘Wait a second.’
‘What?’
Dan swallows hard, and actually looks a little vulnerable. ‘I just wanted to say . . .’
Before he can continue, I turn round and give him a hug, and – for once – he doesn’t push me away, or question my sexuality.
‘Good luck?’
He takes a deep breath, then fixes me with that famous Dan Davis grin, although I’ve got a feeling it’s more for his benefit than mine. ‘Edward,’ he says, making one final adjustment to his already impeccably styled hair, ‘how many times have I told you? Luck has nothing to do with it.’
And for the first time in my life, I think that maybe – just maybe – he might be talking about me.
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