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Chapter Forty

Gemma

It’s not hard to find which suite is Kayleigh’s – there’s laughter and chatter spilling out of the room and a flurry of activity. Someone passes me with an empty bottle of champagne upturned in an ice bucket, and a man who looks like a photographer’s assistant is running in with some wires.

I catch the door before it swings shut behind him, chest puffed with pride that I’ve made it in the nick of time. And I don’t even look too shabby, all things considered. No maid of honour has ever done more than me.

‘I’m here!’ I sing out, striding into the room. It smells like hairspray. The girls are piled onto a lilac-upholstered chaise beneath the window while Kayleigh has some final touch-ups done on her hair, the photographers capturing every moment.

There’s a beat of silence in the wake of my arrival, and my heart seizes. There’s a kernel of panic suddenly in the pit of my stomach, and every split second the silence stretches out makes another one burst until I feel like I’m going to explode in a ball of flame.

I remember the WhatsApp chat I was never meant to see. How little they all think of me. How unashamedly they ripped me to pieces, and how Kayleigh encouraged it. How they would all like it far better if I hadn’t shown up at all.

What will they say about me now? That I’m an attention-seeker trying to steal the limelight, showing up at the last minute, trying to undermine Kayleigh on her big day out of jealousy? That I’m late and clearly couldn’t be bothered to make the effort, so should just leave?

But then the room is full of shrieks and all four of them hurtle out of their seats to run over and squash me into a group hug.

Kayleigh grabs me tightest of all, squealing, ‘OMG, you made it! I can’t believe it! I know the girls said you’d landed and you were on the way but … Ohmigod, Gem! You’re here! Stop, I’m going to ruin my makeup, you’ll make me cry.’ She pushes me away to waft a hand at her bone-dry eyes, laughing.

‘You look gorge,’ I tell her. Now Fran’s pointed it out, I can hear the way my voice changes, the affect it takes on, more of a drawl. I literally change my whole voice to fit the lifestyle Kayleigh wants. How have I never noticed I do that before? ‘Totally stunning.’

‘Don’t I?’ She spins, just enough to swish the many layers of skirt.

The dress is all beaded ivory and boned bodice and expensive silk.

The skirt will detach later so that instead of the fuller, princess-style, she’ll be left with a simpler shift look for the evening.

Her hair – honey blonde with recently touched-up highlights, rather than the sandy, brownish colour of Leon’s and Myleene’s – is in soft, shiny waves that cascade over one shoulder, pinned with a glittering hair comb. She really does look beautiful.

‘Let’s get you in the chair, quick!’ Kayleigh grabs my shoulders to propel me across the room, then touches my hair. ‘Savannah will sort you out; she can fix this bird’s nest right up …’

Oh, it doesn’t look that bad .

Well. Maybe next to the rest of them with glossy, sleek styles, it does.

As hairdresser Savannah takes a pair of curling tongs and several hairpins to me, the girls all chatter at a hundred miles an hour.

Andi says, ‘So much for a relaxing evening before the wedding, we were running around like headless chickens. It was such a pain you weren’t here, Gem. You’ve been like Kayleigh’s wedding planner! We were scrambling to try to fix things last minute.’

‘You would not believe the nightmare we had with the flowers yesterday,’ Joss tells me. ‘Lavender, instead of lilacs! Luckily we got it sorted, though. You probably mis-typed it in one of your emails to them.’

‘Bit of a waste of time planning a backup speech!’ Laura says with a laugh. ‘We were all ready to step up when you weren’t going to make it. But I’m sure you’ll smash it, Gem.’

‘Ooh, no!’ Kayleigh says. ‘You girls should do yours anyway! After Gemma’s. All the effort you put in for me yesterday and today … It’s really the least I can do. And it would be so nice! You don’t mind, do you, Gem?’

It doesn’t sound like I’ve got much choice. I give a toothy smile in the mirror. Surely they can see how fake it is? What the fuck are we all doing, pretending like this with each other?

‘Ohmigod no you guys have to! That’ll be so fun,’ I chirp.

I’m sure they can’t wait to upstage me.

There’s a tiny voice in the back of my mind saying, Good luck upstaging that video with the stripper . But it drifts away as soon as it arrives, a wisp of smoke in the wind.

I listen with a sense of detachment as the girls continue to chatter.

Joss, Andi and Laura tell me dramatic stories about yesterday and manage to throw some back-handed compliments in there to bruise my ego – which is familiar, but I don’t snipe back the way I normally would, and we don’t all laugh about it like it’s some affectionate in-joke we’re all in on together.

Kayleigh needles me for gossip about Fran, making snide remarks and saying, ‘I bet she shows up wearing white,’ and, ‘I can’t wait to see the crushed look on her prissy little face when she realises I got the guy in the end. ’

I end up telling her, ‘You know, I didn’t really see much of her in the airport,’ just to shut her up.

With my hair done – curls revived and slicked with argan oil, a few pieces twisted back to frame my face – I pose for photos with the girls, and it feels like I’m watching it all happen to me, like an out-of-body experience.

I watch my arms hug Kayleigh and our faces smush side-by-side, beaming for the camera.

I watch my mouth open in a bright laugh as I squash into the middle of the chaise with them and hold up the glass of champagne I’m given as a prop.

When someone arrives to tell us it’s time to go downstairs, I end up walking near Kayleigh while the others fall behind.

‘I’m so relieved you finally know about the job,’ she tells me in a breathy rush. ‘It was killing me not to tell you! You’re not upset, though, are you? I mean, you know it would’ve been way too much for you to take on. And I’m just better suited for it, at the end of the day.’

Snippets of that video from the hen do burn themselves into my brain.

I take a breath; I think about sitting by the window in the airport, and my resolve hardening on the flight.

‘Totally,’ I tell her. ‘You know, I just don’t think it’s right for me.’

She squeezes my arm. It feels more like a pinch. ‘I knew you’d understand.’

In that moment, I make up my mind.

While the photographer gets some solo shots of Kayleigh in the gardens on her way down to the pavilion, the girls and I go ahead.

‘You know, Gem, it was really crap of you to leave us in the lurch like that,’ says Joss. Her voice is arch and sharp, but there’s a glint in her eye: she’s absolutely revelling in my fuck-up.

Andi adds, ‘It’s her wedding . You couldn’t make the effort for this one day?’

‘You’re so lucky to have Kayleigh,’ Laura tells me. ‘Nobody else would put up with that kind of bullshit from their “best friend”.’

‘You’re so right,’ I say. ‘They wouldn’t.

But you know what else they wouldn’t put up with?

Getting kicked out of the group chat the night before the wedding so the rest of you can slag me off, when you’re all too stupid to notice I had two different phones connected to the chat. But you’re right. I’m so lucky.’

Joss turns bright red; Andi gasps. Laura goes deathly pale and her jaw hits the floor.

I smile serenely, and leave them behind. Most of the guests are seated now; Marcus is standing front and centre and gives me a smile and a nod. His groomsmen are lined up behind him. I can’t see Leon anywhere, but Fran is dithering around like she’s not sure exactly where to sit.

She spots me and honestly, she has the most expressive face. Her eyes widen a fraction, her eyebrows twist upwards in the middle, and she has this sorry little half-smile on her face that all seem to say, Are you okay? You look nice.

I give her an eye-roll and shrug one shoulder then smile, which I hope she takes to mean, Eh, could be worse. I’m okay . Then I jerk my head towards Marcus and mouth, ‘What happened?’

Fran blushes and shakes her head. Intriguing! I will get the full story later. Did she think better of it? She looks way too calm and collected for someone who got rejected by the guy whose wedding she came to stop.

Then she mouths, ‘Where’s Leon?’

I shrug again.

Her face bunches into something full of concern, and I don’t blame her. I really thought I’d gotten through to him about writing Kayleigh off as a lost cause, but if he’s not here, he must have tried to corner her at the last minute …

It won’t go well. Poor Leon, she’ll tear him to pieces. He’ll be too heartbroken at letting his family down to show his face. I should probably try to mediate, if nothing else, or – or I don’t know. Do something .

Before I can decide whether to set off to look for him, though, there’s a man’s voice screaming, ‘Kayleigh! KAY-LEIGH! I’m here! Kayleigh, stop the wedding, I’m here!’

The entire congregation turns, people standing up to get a better look, and I hear the collective intake of breath as a guy comes running down the staircase, and—

‘Oh my God,’ I blurt. ‘Holy shit.’

And careening towards the pavilion in a very rumpled, days-old T-shirt, a backpack knocking against him as he runs, sunlight glinting off the remnants of silver glitter in his hair, with limp tulips in hand and a green Ladurée bag … is the kid from the airport.

The one who bought the sparkly thong, whose taxi we stole.

Here, yelling for Kayleigh like a man possessed.

What the fuck is going on?

I’m too stunned to do anything but gawp.

Someone comes up next to me. ‘Is that …?’