The veil slips as I run down the town hall steps. Well, it’s not really a run, not when I’m wearing three inch heels and more layers of tulle than a production by the Bolshoi. My hair is a tangled explosion of pins and clumps of hair stuck together from the hairspray that was liberally applied by the hair stylist this morning. My best friend Nat and I had sipped champagne as the stylist and make-up artist worked their magic on us. All that work gone to waste. It’s a shame really.
I rush across the street and push through the doors of a bar opposite. It’s where Jason and I planned on having the reception, it’s just that I’m several hours early and there won’t be anything to celebrate.
“Alice? What the hell?” The man standing behind the bar looks up at me in shock, putting down an empty bottle he’s just taken from the optic behind him. His name is Matthew Murray and I’ve known him almost my entire life.
Behind me the doors open again, letting in the sound of the busy street outside. I don’t even have to turn around to know that it’s Nat, wearing her bridesmaid dress the colour of copper when it’s held in the flame of a bunsen burner, all bright bluey-green. It’s always been my favourite lesson to teach, placing each element into the flame to show the different colours.
“Are you going to explain what is happening here?” Murray asks, looking past me to his sister. “Because I’m not sure turning my bar into the plot of the pilot episode of Friends was the plan for today?”
“If it was then that would mean that you have secretly been in love with me since secondary school.” I arch an eyebrow and watch a horrified look spread across his handsome face.
“Sorry to disappoint you Alice but you’re no Rachel.” Harsh, though probably not the worst thing he’s said to me over the years.
I slump into one of the gold velvet armchairs at the table closest to me, the massive taffeta and tulle skirt of my gown barely contained by its arms. Murray steps out from behind the bar and walks over, bending to pick up the wayward veil that has fallen to the floor. As he hands it to me his fingertips brush against the palm of my hand. He quickly pulls his hand away as if he’s been burnt.
“Alice, what just happened?” Nat says, her tone is one of gentle concern and I can’t help feeling a burst of affection for my best friend. If it was the other way around I’d have probably been trying to shout the sense back into her.
“I don’t… I… I can’t marry him, Nat.” I start to pull at the petals of the dahlias in the bouquet that she so carefully arranged for me. “I should never have let it go this far.”
I close my eyes but all I can see is the shocked expression on Jason’s face as I turned heel and ran.
“You’re sure. Because there’s no going back if you are.”
I think about the repercussions of what I’ve done. Jason is the deputy headteacher of the school I work at so if I go through with this, if I walk out on our wedding, then not only will I be single, with no place to live, I’ll also need to find another job. The weight of the implications are crushing. But I know, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes, with every fibre in me, that I cannot marry Jason.
“I’m sure.”
“Then I suppose I better go back over there and let everyone know.” Nat squeezes my hand as she stands up and I give her a grateful smile. “Keep an eye on her, will you” Nat calls across to Murray, who gives a nonchalant shrug in affirmation. His back is to us as he continues to restock the bar, for all the people who now won’t be filling the place to celebrate my nuptials.
“Is there somewhere I can get changed?” I ask. Nat had dropped a bag with a change of clothes for the evening at the bar that morning. Murray hands me the bag and then points me in the direction of the small beer cellar filled with metal barrels and plastic pipework. Then he follows me into the cool room, the door swinging shut behind him. I look at him questioningly.
“There’s no way you’re going to manage all those buttons without help.” He gestures to the line of small mother of pearl buttons that runs down the centre of my back. He’s right. Getting the dress on with assistance was hard enough. I’m not going to manage it alone.
I turn around and scrape my tangled mass of hair forward so that he can access the top buttons. As his fingers start to work down the intricate fastenings he’s close enough for me to smell his aftershave and the crisp scent of his freshly laundered shirt.
“I knew you’d never go through with it,” he whispers, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with the coolness of the room. I spin around to face him.
“Really? And why’s that?”
Murray takes a half-step closer so that our bodies are almost touching. We’re so close that I can feel the heat from his body.
“Because there’s no way you could ever give me up.” He places a hand under my chin to tilt my head towards his and brushes his lips against mine. Now I’m the one who feels like I’m being held to a flame. But whether the fire is from the touch of his lips or burning inside me, it’s a blaze I have no intention of drawing away from. Murray lifts his hand away and places something in my hair.
“You forgot your veil.”
