‘Drink that. Then go and get yourself ready.’
Jenna looked at her in amazement.
‘You’re going ahead with it?’
Kirsty nodded.
‘You’re hardly a threat, are you? After all, who’s the bridesmaid - and who’s the bride?’
And with that she swept out of the room.
Jenna bent double, her head in her hands, hot tears trickling through her fingers. She had never known pain like it.
What had she done? And why? What kind of person dropped that bombshell on her best friend? Why had she done the one thing guaranteed potentially to destroy three lives? She curled herself up into a ball on the bed, a low guttural moan coming from deep inside, wondering just where she would rewind to if she could - this morning, the stag night, the day she first set eyes on Dan Harper . . . ?
Kirsty strode down the corridor, her head high. She pulled her mobile out of the bag she’d grabbed as she left the room, scrolled through her numbers, dialled. He answered on the first ring.
‘Liam, it’s Kirsty.’
‘Hey, beautiful—’
‘I need to speak to you,’ she interjected swiftly. ‘Now. Meet me on the slipway in five minutes.’
And she hung up, punching the button on the lift at the end of the corridor. By some miracle the doors opened with a ting straight away and she got inside. Two other guests smiled - everyone loves a bride, after all - but she didn’t smile back. It was almost as if she didn’t register them at all.
Liam put down his coffee cup. He didn’t like the tone in Kirsty’s voice. He sensed trouble. He supposed everything had gone rather too well up to now. He and Dan had been chilling on the terrace, enjoying a pot of coffee and a sneaky cognac before the ceremony began, two friends seemingly without a care in the world. But they were ignoring the elephant in the room - what John Irving called ‘the undertoad’. Liam had a nasty feeling the undertoad had got out and was now hopping around, slimy and warty, looking for trouble.
‘Hey,’ he said to Dan. ‘Got something I’ve got to do. See you in a while.’
Dan looked up at him and nodded. He looked pretty laid-back for a guy who was about to get married, but then nothing really fazed Dan. He was a cool customer. He looked amazing too, in his charcoal-grey linen suit with the white shirt untucked underneath, and his trademark snakeskin boots which were worn with just enough irony to save him from looking like a tosser.
Liam walked out of the hotel, across the road and along the grassy dunes that led to the slipway. He could see Kirsty sitting on the wall. Passers-by were giving her glances - not surprisingly. She looked stunning, shimmering in the sunlight. Almost like a mirage. If you shut your eyes and opened them again, she would be gone.
‘Hey.’ He sat on the wall next to her. ‘What’s the problem?’
She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to one side. ‘Like you don’t know?’
‘No . . .’
‘Dan and Jenna?’
Liam pressed his lips together. Shit. He thought as much. Who had spilled the beans? Had one of the other stags blabbed to his girlfriend, who’d decided to tell Kirsty the truth? Or had—
‘My bridesmaid has just informed me that she slept with my husband-to-be on his stag night.’ Kirsty’s voice was calm. ‘I’m not sure where I go from here, Liam. We’ve got a hundred and fifty guests arriving in the next half-hour. I’m supposed to be meeting my parents in ten minutes. The timing isn’t great. And I’m not one for a drama. I don’t want to make a scene.’
This was true. Kirsty wasn’t a drama queen. Not like bloody Jenna. Why the hell couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut? What kind of girl dropped a bombshell like that on her best friend when she was about to go up the aisle? An unhappy one, he supposed. A jealous, green-eyed, slightly unhinged, slightly embittered thirty-something party animal with high hemlines and low morals. A girl who felt threatened by her friend’s perfection, a girl who was disgruntled with her lot in life . . .
Now, however, was not the time to question Jenna’s motives. Now was the time for some serious damage limitation. As best man, it was up to him to make sure his best mate’s bride made it up the aisle.
‘Kirsty - we were absolutely hammered. None of us had a clue what we were doing. If Dan and Jenna ended up shagging, I don’t suppose he can even remember. I’m not saying it was right, Kirst. And maybe I should have done more to stop it. But it didn’t mean anything.’
Kirsty sighed.
‘You know what? I know that.’
‘It was just—’
‘Please don’t say it was just a shag. We are talking about my best friend and my fiancé. Two people who are supposed to love me, not betray me.’
Liam cursed inwardly. He could see the whole scenario unfolding now in his mind’s eye. He could see the determination in Jenna’s eyes, the way she had homed in on Dan, scarcely leaving his side all evening. Her hand on his arm, then her arm round his neck, then her mouth on his, her sitting on his lap. Liam had been preoccupied, had chosen to turn a blind eye, although there was no doubt where the evening was heading. Jenna’s message was loud and clear and Dan - Dan had enjoyed the attention. Jenna was very good at making men feel good. He wasn’t excusing Dan, not for a second, but he had probably thought, in his drunken state, what the hell? One last night of freedom.
Dan had been filled with guilt the next day, there was no doubt about that. He’d been very quiet during their round of golf, presumably wallowing in an agony of remorse, compounded by a wicked hangover. Liam wouldn’t have swapped places with him for the world, but part of him felt responsible. Maybe as best man he should have organised a game of paintball, instead of a debauched evening of Olympic drinking which could only lead to trouble. But Liam hadn’t known Jenna was going to turn up. She said it was a coincidence, that she’d come down for the weekend with some friends, but looking back now Liam hadn’t seen any evidence of them.
He looked at Kirsty. He knew that whatever he said would have a massive impact on what happened next. He didn’t have long to decide how to play it.
He liked Kirsty. He really did. But he knew she was a perfectionist. He knew she liked things her way, and expected everyone around her to step up to the mark. He knew that nine times out of ten Dan would step up to that mark, but he obviously had a weak spot. Would that weak spot be his ultimate downfall? Was he cut out for a lifetime of dancing to Kirsty’s tune? Or should he, in the light of what had happened, bail out now? Maybe Dan would be better off with someone like Jenna, someone more laid-back who wouldn’t make so many demands?
No, thought Liam. No couple was perfectly matched. Everyone had to make changes and compromise. Dan needed someone like Kirsty, to tame his wilder side, to coax him into the next phase of his life. A Jenna would bring him down with her. He wouldn’t move on. He would be stuck in his jack-the-lad twenties for ever.
And Kirsty, for all her demands, was a good person. She deserved the handsome, charming Dan, whom she would mould into a loving husband and father. They would make a wonderful couple, and wonderful parents. This was a blip. A very badly timed blip, he had to admit, but he was confident he could talk Kirsty round, if only because he genuinely believed what he was about to say.
‘Kirsty,’ began Liam in a reassuring tone. ‘Dan adores you. If I thought he didn’t, I’d tell you right now, and save you the agony of finding out later. It’s up to you now, Kirst - but if you choose to walk away because of a stupid one-night stand, it’ll be a bloody tragedy. You guys were made for each other.’
He held her by the shoulders.
‘I know Jenna meant nothing to him. I did the same thing myself. I picked up a woman in the bar and slept with her. It was a crazy night. Champagne, tequila shots, sambuca - that’s no excuse, I know. But please - don’t ruin your life and Dan’s because of a moment’s madness.’ He gazed into her eyes and smiled imploringly. ‘He’s going to be a wonderful husband. He wants me to be godfather to your first kid. I’ve got it all lined up-a first-edition Harry Potter. I want to be there at the font in a year or so ...’
He trailed off. What the hell more could he say?
There was a single tear glittering like a diamond on Kirsty’s cheek. She lifted a finger and wiped it away, then looked at her watch.
‘I’d better go and find my parents,’ she said. ‘I was supposed to be meeting them ten minutes ago. They’ll be freaking out.’
‘So . . . what’s happening?’
‘I need to think, Liam. I need to weigh it all up.’
She slid off the wall and walked away. Liam watched her go, his heart pounding, the metallic taste of guilt in his mouth. Had he done all he could to rectify the situation? The situation he could have averted, let’s face it, if he hadn’t been so self-obsessed that night. If he hadn’t been caught up in the thrall of that woman, he would have had his wits about him and sent Jenna packing with a flea in her ear. But he had been entranced.
He didn’t like thinking back on his own behaviour even now. He’d found the woman attractive, very attractive. She was posh, pretty, obviously well off - and flirtatious. How could he resist? But she was also drunk and vulnerable. He should absolutely have known better. If he’d been a gentleman, he’d have walked her back to her beach hut and left her.
When he had got up to leave as dawn broke, she had opened her eyes. The stare she had given him was so blank, like a china doll gazing into the middle distance, glassy, sightless. He’d wanted to ask her name, but it seemed so crass. He was still drunk when he left her, but not so drunk his conscience didn’t needle him on the way back to the campsite. He’d crawled into the huge tent he was sharing with the other blokes, stuffed himself into his sleeping bag and slept till midday, when he was forced to get up and play a round of golf.
The memory of her had haunted him ever since. He hadn’t stopped wondering what had happened to her, what she had remembered when she had woken up, whether she regretted sleeping with him. There had been no way for him to contact her. They hadn’t exchanged numbers.
Then, when he and Dan had come down the day before for the wedding, he had seen her. It wasn’t so surprising - she had told him that she spent a lot of the summer in Everdene with her family. She was in the Spar shop, two small children with her, perfectly turned out, the little girl in a pink spotty sundress, the boy in surfing shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She had looked perfect too, the ultimate yummy mummy with her blond hair in a ponytail and her Calvin Klein sunglasses on her head.
He wanted to say something to her, wanted to make sure she was all right, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t want to break the bubble she was in, the three of them poring over the open freezer, each child allowed to choose an ice cream. She’d looked up and seen him standing at the end of the queue with his shopping basket, and she’d blinked slowly. She had given him a tiny, tentative smile, then looked away. He understood. She’d recognised him, but didn’t want anything to do with him. It made him feel grubby. And even more ashamed.
He should never have had sex with her. He should have talked to her, about whatever it was that was troubling her, because he could sense she was a woman in crisis. But some visceral urge had taken them both over. He reminded himself that she hadn’t protested at all. She had wound her arms around his neck and pushed herself against him willingly enough. There had been no mixed signals.
Yet he had come away knowing it was wrong. It still didn’t sit easily with him. He hadn’t really drunk much since, wary of what he might turn into-a chauvinistic player who treated women like objects. And he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind; it kept wandering to those china-doll eyes. What had made someone who seemed so perfect on the surface so unhappy?
It had been a crazy night. And not just for him. He dragged himself back to the problem in hand as he made his way to the hotel. Bloody Jenna. What was she thinking of? He was going to kill her. He was going to bloody kill her.
Dan wondered where the hell Liam had got to. They were supposed to be heading down to the ballroom any minute, where the civil ceremony was going to take place, to meet the registrar and make sure everything was in order. At this rate they were going to be late, and he didn’t want anything to go wrong. He wanted the day to be perfect. Not for himself - he wasn’t all that bothered, he’d have been happy with a few mates at the register office - but for Kirsty, who had been working hard for months to get everything just right. He knew how important every detail was to her, from the fresh pomegranate juice and prosecco down to the last white-chocolate profiterole. Dan was determined nothing was going to spoil it, and was irritated with Liam for disappearing at the eleventh hour. He wondered who it had been on the phone, and what had been so important? He felt a little bit of disquiet gnawing at him. It was nearly one o’clock. Liam should definitely have been back by now. What if . . . ?
Don’t be stupid, he told himself. Jenna wouldn’t say anything. But he could feel his palms sweat slightly, and a prickle of unease make its way down his spine and into the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t seen Jenna since the stag night. She hadn’t contacted him since, thank God. At first he had worried that she might go all
Fatal Attraction
on him, start bombarding him with even more texts and phone calls than usual, but she had fortunately been very discreet. He hadn’t heard a squeak.
Why the hell had he done it? If he thought about it too much, he made himself feel sick. Jenna had made it so easy. Nuzzling up to him, whispering in his ear, winding herself around him.
‘Just once,’ she told him. ‘Because you know you want to. And it’s much better to do it now than when you’re a married man. Get it out of your system.’
And in his drunken state, he had succumbed to her suggestion, because he and Jenna had always got on, and he couldn’t deny he found her attractive, even though she was so very different from Kirsty. Maybe that had been the attraction? A base curiosity, a last-minute need to check out what was on offer and make sure he’d made the right choice.