Happy New Year! Jessie xx
The Big Day
Sandra woke in her own house in her own bed for the last time. She smiled as the sun broke through the curtains and shone on the bedside table. The clock read just a little after eight. Reaching to silence the alarm on her phone she grinned to see that there was a message from Rob:
Missed you last night, see you at two x
The light, giddy feeling she'd been expecting suddenly ran through her and she threw the covers off. As she reached her bedroom door, she met Mia just raising her hand to knock. The two looked at each other for a moment then laughed.
"Oh good," Esther's voice came from the other side of the landing. "You're up."
Sandra's hen night had become a giant house clean, Mia, Grace and Esther staying over and the four of them blasting music and bleaching like a group of students the night before the accommodation officer was due to check the house. Or like a group of crooks removing every trace of their presence. Because, as Sandra had pointed out during a particularly philosophical moment, it was practically a crime that the house had become a mausoleum to terminal singlehood. In a few days the keys would be handed to the estate agent who had told them that it was a 'nice young family' moving in. Though, as Mia had pointed out, he probably had to say that and in reality it would be a drug commune moving in instead.
"I've put the coffee on, your mother's cooking breakfast," Esther began.
"My mother…?" Sandra wasn't sure that her eyebrows had ever risen so quickly.
Esther grinned and shook her head, turning away from them and heading back towards the stairs. "I'll see you downstairs in ten minutes."
"Go on," Mia pointed at the bathroom. "I'm just going to ring home, check that the four men, a baby and my brother made it through the night."
Sandra laughed and headed to the bathroom. Splashing water on her face to wake her a little more, she grinned at her reflection. "Who would have thought?" she mused. Feeling a slight flutter within her she frowned for a moment. Looking down, she saw that her hand had subconsciously moved to the place that she'd felt the bubble of movement. Shaking her head with a further laugh she repeated her muse and went to join the others.
Rob hung up the phone having assured his daughter that Bella had kept them all in line the previous evening. He looked around the flat: five suits hung in their shop-jackets on the back of the sofa; numerous empty bottles of questionable heritage adorned the coffee table and rug accompanied by the relevant glasses which had been utilised; three packs of cards and five varying piles of plastic discs completed the image of his stag night. It was like a hovel of student life. Or a den of crooks. Either would explain the total feeling that he was out of his league this morning. Gerry and Steve might both be more mature than him in years but had put him to shame with their drinking games which he suspected were gleaned from Gerry's daughters. Rubbing his tired eyes he smiled as he heard Bella demanding breakfast.
"Hung-over, Dad?" Rufus grinned as he exited the bathroom. "Erm, the baby…"
"Smells? Is making a noise? Rufs, that's what babies do," Rob answered wearily.
"And you want to have another one?" Rufus jumped onto a seat at the breakfast counter and poured a long glass of orange juice.
Rob watched as his son greedily pulled slices of toast from the rack and buttered them, replacing his crumbed knife back into the butter dish. He closed his eyes against the scene and the ridiculous brightness pouring through the windows. For some reason, quite incomprehensible to Gerry and himself; Brian and Steve had taken it upon themselves to wake everyone up and make breakfast at half past seven that morning then go out on some secretive mission. They would return about an hour later with the buttonholes in one pair of hands and a mass of cleaning equipment in the other. "Because, trust me, if your girls come home to this, they are going to kill you," Steve assured him.
Working in the opposite direction, Sandra's living room carpet was covered in an assortment of make-up brushes, hair-dressing accessories and bizarrely, shoes. The radio was on as Sandra and Mia sat cross-legged in the middle of the room dabbing brushes into pots and painting each other's faces with eyeshadow while they waited for the bathroom.
"Right, I've stripped the bedrooms," Esther raised her eyebrows as she sat down. "Just our last bits and bobs to put away."
"Cool," Mia finished applying cat whiskers to the bride's face and turned to Esther with a smile. "Thanks Esther."
"Yes, thanks Esther," Sandra smiled genuinely. The last month had been such a whirlwind of organisation at work and home that she was grateful of the last twenty-four hours. And in particular the opportunity to behave like an absolute child and complete the multi-coloured star across Mia's forehead.
"Next!" Grace called over the banister.
"You go Esther, we haven't done the washing up yet," Mia stood up before holding her hand out to help Sandra up.
Esther shook her head gently. Watching the woman she'd come to know as a fierce statue of self-discipline and authority over her husband and his unruly colleagues being finally allowed to show herself to be warm, loving and even maternal was quite warming to the old woman's heart. By the time she'd showered and called for the next, Grace had dressed and was sitting on the edge of the bed in the spare room. "You alright, Grace?"
"Yes, yes, of course," the older woman replied. "I'd best go downstairs, let you have some privacy."
Esther watched her go smiling. Somehow, she knew, Grace would find the right words to say to Sandra at the right moment. It was just when that moment would be. She dressed and returned to the living room where Sandra and her mum were laughing.
"Esther," Sandra wiped the tears from her eye. "Have a glass of champagne. Mia's just gone up. Feel free to carry on," she gestured to the make-up scattered about the room. "Or Mia said she'll do yours while I'm in the shower."
"Bloody thing!" Gerry grumbled as he fiddled with the button hole on Rob's lapel. "Who the flipping heck invented these things!"
"Get out the way, man," Steve pushed his mate playfully out of the way and deftly fitted the floral accessory to the groom. They'd cleaned up the flat to Steve's high standards, pampered and fussed over Bella to within what the child could stand (they figured that when she'd started waving her arms in annoyance that the flowery hat was not going to stay on her head), and were now suited and booted, just.
"What time is it?" Rob asked anxiously.
"Two minutes after you last bleeding asked!" Gerry laughed. "You ready, lad?"
Rufus shrugged from where he perched on the back of the sofa. He was clean and dressed. And he seriously objected to being ordered about his father's flat where he didn't live, cleaning like a skivvy and being poked and prodded by the same Scot who, because he was driving him and his father to the church, he was going to have to spend even more time with. And he didn't like looking after Bella. Not since she'd spat up on his favourite Reebok hoody.
Gerry glanced at Brian who said with a blink that it wasn't worth starting up about. "You ready, Brian?"
"Aye," Brian stood up. "I bloody hate wearing suits too," he said to Rufus. "We'll see you at the church then."
Sandra wrinkled her nose as Mia pulled back and tilted her head to the side.
"Don't do that," Mia batted her arm. "Come here," she leant forward again and added a flicker of eyeliner to the corner of Sandra's eye. "Open. Yes, that's it. You're done! Now go get dressed!"
Sandra hesitated in the archway that led to her stairs. She looked back at the three people in her living room; a room that had always seemed too big, too cold. Her mother, drinking champagne and laughing; Esther, a good, kind woman who was her friend; and Mia. If she had ever wished for a child, she could not have wished for one more handsome than the girl who sat in her living room. The room itself now seemed the right size. She heard Esther suggest that they should start to tidy up; Sandra and Mia would nip back to the house tomorrow to remove the last traces of its previous inhabitant. Smiling, Sandra left the scene and climbed the stairs. Esther had stripped the bed as promised. Upon the bare mattress were four identical pale blue boxes tied with ivory ribbon. Frowning, Sandra lifted one of the boxes and opened it. She met with ivory tissue paper and a note in blue ink; something old. Unwrapping the tissue paper she found the pendant that Jack had sent from France; the pendant that her father had been holding when he died and that Jack had had re-chained.
"Mia," she muttered. The pendent had resided safely in the old jewellery box she'd had since a teenager and kept in the top drawer of the bedside cabinet at the flat. For the last few days, she'd thought she'd noticed its absence and dismissed it as simply hidden behind some of the other things in the box. Replacing the lid on the box and returning the box to the bed, she put the necklace on. She'd not worn it since she'd lost it when she was fourteen.
Less suspicious of the mysterious boxes now, she picked up the second and found as she anticipated, ivory paper and a blue note stating: Something New. She gasped as she uncovered a dark silver watch, similar in design to the pendant that hung around her neck. Turning it over in her hands, the question of its sender was answered by an inscription: never ask how much R.
Something Borrowed transpired to be earrings from her mother, earrings that miraculously matched the necklace and watch. Something Blue in the last box was a perfect blue posy; " 'baby blue eyes' but my mother always used to call any flower she didn't know a posy. I thought you might like a hand with the dress."
Sandra smiled as Esther closed the door behind her. They'd bought the dress the previous week, the four of them …
"How about this one?"
Sandra turned at the sound of Mia's voice and focused on the meringue monstrosity that the girl was pointing at. She felt completely out of her depth. She wasn't averse to shopping. She wasn't a stranger to dress shopping. Dress shopping for specific occasions. She'd even been party to wedding dress shopping before. Nearly thirty years ago, she mused, she had even been here for herself before. But this time was different. Not only were the shop assistants ridiculously cheerful and helpful; patiently waiting in the wings to pick up their commission; but she was surrounded by a sea of white and cream, silk, lace, chiffon, meringues, veils, tiaras, glitter, ribbon, things you wouldn't dress your grandmother in, oh, and her mother. Grace Pullman had been duly collected by Esther; met by Sandra, Mia and Bella; and driven Sandra stir-crazy ever since. Every shop they'd been to – admittedly they were only on the second – she'd hung in the background like the dresses, hardly offering a single opinion. Esther and Mia on the other hand had gladly pulled and prodded at every dress in the shop, exhibiting only the very worse to the bride-to-be. Sandra had to laugh at the latest offering though.
"It's got more frills than a seventies bar," Esther laughed. "Actually, I think Brian used to have a shirt like that…"
"Gordon did, it was awful. I could hardly bear to be seen with him in it," Grace said blandly. "Though that was the fashion then I suppose."
And there it was. Sandra turned on her mother with fire in her eyes.
"What is it dear?" Grace asked wearily.
But Sandra had no answer. It was the tone of voice. Every time she ever thought that she was doing something that made her mother happy there was the understated response that she always gave. She knew that her mother liked Rob. She knew that her mother liked Mia and Bella. She had raised no objection to the marriage, yet here she was; acting as if the most momentous occasion in her daughter's life was nothing. Nothing to get excited about and nothing to concern her.
"Sandra?" Esther asked concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Sandra bit back the tirade that had no words that she so wanted to let off in her mother's direction. "Everything's fine. Let's just keep looking."
"Let's not," Mia said suddenly. "Sandra…"
"Na…na…na..nam," Bella gained her Nana's attention and all four females turned to where she was pointing. Without the distraction of a troublesome mother; or the shared humour of a chief bridesmaid and friend trying to embarrass their bride as much as possible; Annabella Strickland had identified the single most perfect creation in the shop.
A tornado might have passed through the street ripping up everything in its path and it wouldn't have been noticed by any present in Tracey's. There was lace. There was glitter. There was silk. There was detail. But none of it too much. The flowing white skirt would come just to the ankle but it was without cumbersome meringue qualities or a train for the groom to stand on during the first dance. A gently corset-ed style would flatter the body while the stitched embellishments highlighted the bosom. In an instant, they knew the search (which hadn't been going on for that long or until that point been taken that seriously) was over. This was the one.
"Of course, it shouldn't really be white," Grace broke the silence with her dry words.
"What do you mean?" Esther asked innocently while Sandra froze in anger, wondering if the floor would like to suddenly open up and swallow her whole. Possibly taking her mother with it too. Mia and Bella looked on in confusion.
"Well it is a second wedding after all," Grace elaborated with no hint of acknowledgement to her daughter's silent fury. It wasn't that she didn't like Rob. Or Mia or Bella. She liked all of them. She was happy that Sandra was finally going to have the family life that she'd always wished for her. There was something though. She knew that Sandra hadn't been happy or ready when she'd married before; too young, too rash. Her daughter had always had the rash streak she'd inherited from her father. She'd known the second that Sandra had introduced her to the man she was seeing that it was serious and that they loved each other. When Rob had asked her permission to marry Sandra she'd seen in his eyes the true depth of his feelings for her. She was happy for them. But it meant that Sandra would be even further from her. She'd lost her daughter a long time ago; and now she was losing her again.
"Is it?" Esther wondered aloud.
"So?" Mia butt in. "It's a nice dress!"
Sandra's emotions traversed from anger at her mother to bemusement at why she always said the things she did; to awkwardness at Esther's unwitting encouragement of her mother's train of thought; to pure love for her adopted daughter and grand-daughter. It was a nice dress. And Mia's words told her everything she needed to know; it didn't matter. She'd told Rob about her previous marriage, the conversation had been almost as brief as the union itself had been. They hadn't told Mia; and she would have to talk to her later to make sure her assumption was right; but it didn't matter.
"Excuse me," Esther said suddenly turning to the shop stewardess ever-present in the rails. "Can she try that one please?"
Ten minutes later Sandra Pullman stood in front of the full-length mirror in the shop wearing the dress that she would get married in. It would have been an altogether more romantic moment if it wasn't for three women systematically throwing accessories at her, stepping back to admire their additions and then quickly removing them; only to return two seconds later with a fresh ornament. She'd been poked and prodded by the shop assistant, ensuring that the perfect dress that fitted perfectly didn't need any adjusting and when Bella had started to fuss, the baby had been attached to Sandra in the certain knowledge that she would stop. So, it was with a flurry of activity around her and a small child pulling at her hair that Sandra Pullman saw the dress she would be getting married in. And she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
Eventually, the other three stopped flying about the shop seeking unhappy embellishments and paused to take breath. The moment had come. Smiling, Bella in her arms, her hair inexpertly back-combed in places by the child's fingers, Sandra turned away from the mirror to exhibit the dress to her entourage. There was silence for a whole second before Mia started to laugh. She was quickly followed by Esther and Grace wasn't far behind. Sandra put all her effort into not laughing, made a serious face at Bella and looked at them.
"What?" she asked innocently.
Gerry and Brian stood at the bottom of the stairs; both looking up with more gormless expressions than she had ever seen on their faces. Which, after ten years of their escapades, was quite a feat. She winked at Mia, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and walked down the stairs.
"Hiya, love," Esther kissed Brian's cheek.
It was very possible, Mia thought, that she might burst of not laughing at any moment as Brian turned to his wife with a look of absolute confusion at this display of affection. Grace was standing beside her in total silence; Esther was smiling benignly as if the whole occasion was suddenly perfectly ordinary and Sandra had arched her eyebrow at the still form of Gerry Standing.
"How's the groom?" Esther asked.
It was just as well, Sandra thought, that Esther was managing the whole situation for her. There was a look in Gerry's eyes that she didn't quite recognise.
"Hats," Mia managed to utter before zipping her lips tightly shut once more. Holding out to Esther and Grace their hats, she winked at Sandra. Her own dress subtly matched Sandra's in the bodice detail and was periwinkle blue. "Flowers?"
"Aye, in Gerry's car," Brian's accent had become more pronounced away from the office. A fact that Gerry and Sandra had noticed and acknowledged in an exchange of amused smiles.
"Come on then," Esther manoeuvred the group. "Have you got the keys, Mia? Grace, Brian, you're with me."
"I hate this part," Rob muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
Steve grinned, standing in front of him, his phone in one hand, waiting for the text from Gerry that they were on their way. If it were a larger ceremony, he'd be directing guests to specific sides of the church. As it was, apart from the vicar, they were the only people there. And the only people due were those he was currently waiting on a text from. "She'll be here," he said helpfully.
"What if she doesn't?" Rufus asked cheekily.
Steve frowned at the lad. Truth be told, he hadn't taken to Rob's son; and he was fairly sure the lad wasn't his biggest fan either. "She'll be here," he repeated firmly.
"'course she will," Rob murmured. "I know that."
"She'd be mad not to," Rufus added nudging his dad.
"Pop-pop," Bella concluded from her seat on Rob's lap. "Mam…"
"Yep, your mum will be here soon," Rob wrinkled his nose at his granddaughter. "Are you going to wear your hat now?"
Bella shook her head and pushed the hat in his hands away.
Gerry and Esther parked up beside each other in the shady car-park. It was a quaint little church, Grace observed as she held the door of Esther's hatchback to allow Brian out of the back seat. Small, but friendly. Thick stone walls surrounded the grounds where the church building itself sat at the end of a leaf-framed footpath. Simple but effective in its presence. The weather was pleasant enough too. There had been talk of rain, yet the skies remained calm above them as they made their way toward the open doors.
"Sandra…"
She stopped and looked back at Gerry shuffling his feet on the sandy path.
"Can I talk to you, just for a minute?"
She glanced at the others, staring curiously. "Go on," she said quietly, nodding toward the building, before turning back to her friend. "What is it?"
Gerry took a breath and looked at her. He'd seen her dressed up before, for functions, she always looked stunning. Today she looked more divine than he'd ever seen her. Happier too. He'd let Brian ask Rob the questions. He'd allowed everything to take place up until now. But there was one last thing he owed to his mate. He had to ask: "Are you sure this is what you want?"
She didn't know whether to slap him or burst into tears. "What do you mean, Gerry?"
"This," he gestured vaguely, not breaking eye-contact. "Getting married. To him. To Strickland. Is it really what you want?"
Slapping him was driving up on her radar. She frowned. "Why are you asking me this now?"
"Because I don't think anyone has asked you yet. And it needs to be asked. If you're not …"
"Can't you at least pretend to be happy for us? For me?" she hastily corrected her question, his opinion on Robert had been well voiced over the years. Her voice was too high as she spoke.
"No," he said seriously. He paused to take in the moment; the moment where he could finally feel ready to give her away, if it was what she wanted. "I can't be pretend. And I can't be happy for you… Until I know that you're happy."
"I am," she promised him. Realising the role he had taken, she smiled. "He makes me, happy. I love him."
"Then I'm glad for you," he assured her sincerely. "Really. If he makes you happy, that's good enough for me. Just remember one thing, he's not the only one who loves you and if he puts one finger out of line, you call me."
Her smile widened as she thanked the heavens (and Jack) for giving her Brian and Gerry as friends. She knew he would understand her next question. "What would I do without you, Gerry?"
"You'd be having this conversation with yerself," he shrugged. "I know that if Jack was here, he'd have asked you. He'd have made sure that you were doing what you wanted for the right reasons. It means a lot to me and Brian that you asked us to … and, actually, there's something else you need to remember, you've always got me. I mean it, one finger out of line and I'll…"
She silenced him swiftly with a look.
"Ok, ok," he coughed.
She kissed him on the check. "Thank you Gerry."
"Come on then, let's go stop Brian wearing a hole in the carpet."
They walked into the entrance hall, arm in arm. Brian looked up anxiously as he paced the floor, Esther immediately catching hold of his arm as he ceased moving about. Gerry looked at Sandra who grinned and nodded. He planted a kiss on her cheek and released her arm.
"Ready?" Brian asked gruffly, stepping forward to her.
"Ready," she said, smiling.
Esther took Bella from Mia and slipped ahead of them into the church. As the music announced the beginning of the proceedings, Rob stood up and smoothed his jacket. Unable to resist, he watched as Esther encouraged Bella to drop rose petals down the aisle; he waited as his bride approached him, chaperoned by her two friends who had become brothers to her; at the alter, she turned and passed the bouquet of flowers to his daughter. Blue eyes met blue eyes and nodded. The vicar began to speak.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church: which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honourable among all men: and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God. Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace… Do you Robert Andrew Strickland take Sandra Marie Pullman to be your lawfully wedded wife; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, or for worse, for richer, or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so long as you both shall live?"
Rob looked at the woman standing before him, beautiful, smart and kind. His voice catching slightly as he replied, "I do."
"And do you, Sandra Marie Pullman, take Robert Andrew Strickland to be your lawfully wedded husband; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, or for worse, for richer, or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
Gerry looked at Brian and could swear that a tear rolled from the old man's eye. Soppy old sod, he thought.