The organ plays Wagner’s Bridal Chorus, and I stand along with everyone else, shifting Caleb to rest on my cocked hip.
Kelly enters with her arm linked through her dad’s. A tingle tickles my nose and tears prickle my eyes. She glides down the aisle, a heavenly vision in white. The incandescent fish-tail dress glitters as the light pours through the church stained glass windows, sending a spectrum of dazzling colours bouncing off her against the stone walls.
Caleb stops fidgeting. His eyes follow the dancing pattern, mesmerised by the pretty colours and the light raining down on her and Ryan as she approaches the altar like a gift from God himself, blessing this union.
As the vicar performs the ceremony, Caleb eats his own hand. The odd cough and clearing of the throat are the only sounds other than the vicar and Caleb’s irritable cries. I’m left with no choice but to whip it out.
I drop the strap of my dress and pull my breast from my bra. James, the promotions manager, widens his eyes then darts them away, looking anywhere but in my direction.
Caleb latches on like a vacuum, sucking up a sock, and I relax my shoulders as my painfully hard breast deflates on one side like the air is being sucked from a balloon. At least he’s quiet and not drawing any more attention.No, everyone’s just staring at your boob now.James looks straight ahead, probably scarred for life after glimpsing my leaky teat that points to the floor.
I glance at Sarah’s small perky handfuls. Although when I was young, they were never small, but my nipples did point in the right direction, at least.
After the service and photos, we make our way to the reception. Kelly has arranged for cars to take us to the venue. James is on hand to help grab the pushchair, and Sarah carries the changing bag for me.
As we enter the old stately home, now a hotel, we’re greeted with a glass of champagne. The round tables display tall vase centres. Chairs covered in turquoise bows to match her bridesmaids.
The whole affair reminds me of my wedding. I wanted a small event, but Mum couldn’t have that. You’d have thought it was her day, not mine. ‘You only get married once’ were her words. I can still hear them now, ringing in my ears.
* * *
CAL
“I thinkyou should attend this wedding. It will be nice to catch up with your old colleagues,” Mum groans for the hundredth time.
“I can’t. It started a few hours ago.” I lift my feet up onto the sofa and lean back against the arm.
“You can go to the reception. Bring your clothes down. I’ll iron them for you.”
“Mum, I don’t have any clothes. I only travelled light.”
She gives me that look. The one where she knows I’m making excuses.
I jump off the sofa and storm upstairs. She’s been going on about it all day. Maybe she knows I want to go more than anything. Fuck, I need to see her, but I don’t want to see her. Fuck it, my desire to see her, along with my mother’s nagging, has me looking through my clothes for something to wear. All I packed were jeans and joggers.
I find a pair of black jeans that aren’t ripped, and by chance, a grey shirt was folded in my case. Mum is smiling in the doorway when I look up. “Give me those while you have a shower.”
“Mum, I’m capable of ironing.”
“So am I. Now don’t argue with me and get yourself in the shower.”
“Thanks Mum.”
The hot water washes the minty shower gel away, and I can’t stop thinking of her. My stomach ties itself into knots. Will she be at the reception alone, or withhim? What if she isn’t even there, and I’m panicking about nothing?
Mum’s laid my freshly pressed clothes on the bed and as I pull on my jeans, Bethy walks into the room. “Are you going out?”
“Yeah, you’re staying with Nanny.”
“Can I come?”
“Not tonight, boo.”
Mum comes into the room as I button up the shirt. “We’ll bake some cookies, shall we? We can have some fun of our own.”
Bethy’s frown turns to a bright smile, and she runs off, shouting at her sister. “Liv, we’re gonna do some baking.”
“I thought you would have had a shave.” Mum says, as she inspects my face.