Page 62 of A Midlife Marriage

‘You don’t have to come back. In fact, it’s probably for the best that you don’t.’

As a tang of blood washed through her mouth, the sound of the intercom buzzer filled her ears. They both turned to look. ‘That will be the car,’ she said.

‘I’ll tell him ––’

‘No.’ Already, she was on her feet, moving to the doorway. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘Are you sure?’

Jaw tight, Caro nodded. Whatever needed to be done, she would do. This was her wedding, and she would do it.

‘I’m sorry.’ Tomasz leaned in and kissed her cheek. ‘You look beautiful,’ he choked, and then he was gone.

42

Despite the tall, sashed windows either side of the entrance, the reception room of Brackenford Town Hall was a dark room. The floor was tiled chequerboard and the chairs positioned along each side were covered in a sombre, muted material. The brightest light came from a digital TV that had been mounted against the wood-panelled wall. Sweeping images of parkland and busy markets played on loop, conspicuously modern against the Edwardian setting. On the far side stood a desk with a perplex screen and a signing-in book. Aside from a young couple with a new-born baby, Kay, Alex and her father were the only ones there.

‘Why don’t you take a seat?’ she whispered, as she turned to him now. He’d stumbled on the steps up and supporting him she had been startled by his frailness. ‘It’s very warm and we still have a few minutes.’ The ceremony was due to start in a quarter of an hour, but with no one else here, it looked like they were the first to arrive.

He didn’t protest, and after she had settled him into a chair, Kay looked across at Alex who was watching the TV. ‘Popoutside,’ she said, ‘and see if there is any sign of Helen and Libby? I’m going to find out where we need to go.’

Alex left, and Kay approached the desk. There was, she saw immediately, no need to ask. A list of names already signed in the book, answered her question. Her finger traced the lines. Caro’s brother and his wife were here, their names listed underneath two Polish sounding names. Against every entry, in the far-right column were the words,Heritage Room.So, they weren’t the first, they were almost the last. She frowned. Caro wouldn’t arrive until just before, but she was surprised not to see Tomasz’s name, he was leaving it a little fine.

The only other things on the desk were a small brass bell and a stand full of leaflets. She inched her foot out of her shoe and reached down to press at the red bulb appearing on her toe. A blister. Already. That had to be a record. Winching with pain, she pushed her foot back in, pressed the bell and turned to read through the leaflets, top to bottom:Registering your baby’s birth. How to give notice of a marriage. What to do when someone dies.

‘We had to press it twice,’ the woman with the baby called across.

‘Oh.’ Kay turned. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She was about to ring a second time when the front door swung open, throwing a rectangle of bright light into the room. It was Helen. Or it looked like Helen, the figure was mostly a silhouette, an outline topped by a dancing feather.

‘Lovely dress,’ Kay said as Helen stepped out of her shadow. ‘I was worried you wouldn’t make it out of the t-shirt.’

Helen smiled. ‘Well, I still haven’t finished unpacking, so obviously I had to buy something new.’

‘Obviously.’ Kay laughed. ‘I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t bothered.’

‘Why?’ Helen put her head to one side. ‘The dress is lovely.’

‘Not the dress. It’s my shoes. They’re killing me.’

They both looked down at Kay’s feet.

‘Don’t you have liner socks on?’

‘What,’ Kay said, ‘are liner socks?’

‘These.’ And lifting her leg, Helen pointed down to a neat little flesh coloured sock, peeping out of her sandal. ‘Honestly, Kay. Before you go to Cyprus, I’m going to have to take you shopping. You’ll need these, they make life that little bit more comfortable. Have you ––’

‘No Libby?’ Kay blurted. Nothing was booked; nothing was happening … those were the only honest answers to questions she didn’t want asked.

‘She’s with Alex,’Helen said, oblivious. ‘I left them catching up. They haven’t seen each other in ages.’ Glancing at the couple with the baby, she frowned. ‘Are we first?’

‘I think we’re just about last,’ Kay said. ‘Everyone must have gone through already. We need to sign in.’ And as if she had only to have given the right cue, a security guard appeared.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ he said, wiping crumbs from his shirt. ‘You’re here for?’

‘The Hardcastle-Nowak wedding,’ Helen said.

‘Great.’ The guard nodded, trying and failing to hide his hand as he wiped it on his trousers. ‘If I can just ask you to sign in and we need to do a light bag search.’

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