Another burst of laughter brings me out of my musings and back to reality. I have no idea what Alex has said. Judging by the looks on her fellow guests’ faces, Elaine has interrupted his speech again.
He smiles at her and looks around at the assembled guests. ‘I really shouldn’t be the one giving this speech. My mother is far more entertaining. Dad, you should get Mum to propose the toast at your next wedding.’
Elaine gives him an owlish look. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your father and I won’t be doing this again. One vow renewal is quite enough for anyone. Let someone else have a turn next. And it will take us a very long time to pay for all this champagne.’
‘Even longer if you keep drinking it at this speed,’ Robert interposes drily.
Alex raises his glass. ‘But, as I’ve undertaken the task, let me see it through. I always like to finish what I’ve started – even when it’s Aunt Em’s turkey!’
I clench my fingers until the nails bite into my palms. He likes to finish what he’s started, does he? Obviously, that doesn’t include relationships. He’d barely begun seeing me when he hit on Suzy. And from what Suzy told me, it didn’t take him long to cheat on her with someone else. It’s hardly the mark of someone to whom the word commitment actually means something.
Still, I can hardly bounce out of my seat and denounce him in front of all the guests. He’s free to tell whatever story about himself he likes. It’s absolutely nothing to me.
I reach over and refill my glass. If this wedding is bankrupting his parents, it will come out of Alex’s inheritance – and serve him right.
I doubt it will set them back too much. The house is huge, and I remember Mum mentioning they went on a month-long cruise only last year. They won’t miss a couple of glasses of champagne, and I can certainly do with it.
I take a deep gulp, catch Mum’s eye, and give her a defiant smile. I remember to leave enough for the toast. I’m toasting Elaine and Robert, not acknowledging the quality of Alex’s speech, most of which I haven’t heard anyway.
People are raising their glasses expectantly. Alex nods to his parents.
‘In conclusion, all I can say is that I hope one day to be as lucky as you two have been.’
Perhaps try being faithful to one woman at a time first, I think, wondering whether anyone would notice if I quickly refilled my glass. Perhaps not. I have an evening party ahead of me, and I want to keep a clear head so I can avoid Alex as far as humanly possible. Throwing up or bursting into tears in front of him may not make the best impression.
His eyes grow more serious. ‘I’ve often thought that it’s something of a miracle when someone finds the person who makes them smile, makes their heart dance, and makes them laugh. Someone with whom you want to grow old, dance your first and last dance with, and all the dances in between.’
He stares down at the table. ‘It’s even more of a miracle if that person feels the same way about you. Mostly, they don’t. And that’s something you have to come to terms with and learn to accept while you build a different life to the one you dreamed about and hoped for. Everyone has to find a way around the disappointments of life and build new dreams on the wreck of the old ones.’
He looks up again. ‘But very occasionally, the stars align. And when they do, you get the sort of enduring marriage we see before us today. In fact, it was so good they wanted to do it twice. And why not? Love like that deserves to be celebrated. So, Mum and Dad, if you decide to do this again in twenty-five more years, please invite me to be a part of it for the third time. Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses to my parents!’
There’s a roar of voices making the toast. In spite of myself, I feel moved. Elaine and Robert are evidently popular, and the look of affection he gives her as he leans across to kiss her is unmistakable.
True love is out there – at least for some people. I hate to admit that Alex could be right about anything, but I have to agree with him that the odds are very long indeed.
Maybe it’s easier if you’re prepared to compromise. There’s nothing wrong with looking for something less than perfection. Life isn’t all made up of perfect solutions and Hollywood endings. For many people, a warm companionship is preferable to nothing. Someone with whom to share the details of the day and help carry the burdens of life, a way to prevent the echoing loneliness I know so well.
But loneliness is still infinitely preferable to that. Pleasant companionship isn’t for me. I want the real thing. And if I can’t have that, I’d prefer to march through life alone.
Chapter Twenty
Walking into the hall again feels like walking into a school reunion – something I’ve carefully avoided since leaving Little Mickton. I received an invitation to my school reunion last year, accompanied by a form inviting me to list my many achievements and triumphs since leaving its hallowed portals for the final time. It seemed an imposition on so many levels. Who’s to say I’ve achieved anything at all? And if I have, who knows whether I’m eager to share it?
I suppressed the urge to fill in the form saying I’d become either a brain surgeon or a rocket scientist and refrained from adding that disclosing personal information would be in direct violation of my parole conditions. Instead, I contented myself with saying that I’m currently working in graphic design and ticking the box markedI am unfortunately unable to attend. But people must enjoy them, or no one would go. Suzy, I know, went to it and thoroughly enjoyed herself.
I pause for a moment in the vestibule with its stacks of leaflets about village activities, local businesses and neighbourhood attractions. There’s a mirror above the table, and I can’t help noticing how well this red dress suits me. It isn’t a colour I normally wear, but it brings out the colour in my cheeks and complements my dark hair.
I catch sight of Brandon at the far end of the hall, talking to a very good-looking dark-haired man. He waves to me to join them.
‘This is Annie,’ he says to the man. ‘She and I are fellow survivors of St Michael’s sixth-form college for local delinquents. Annie, this is Stephen. He’s here to visit his family over Christmas. They’re friends of Robert and Elaine. He's going back to Somerset on the twenty-eighth.’
Trust Brandon to have elicited all this information before he's been here for five minutes. He probably already knows the details of Stephen's childhood, whether he owns a pet, and how much he earns. But that’s Brandon. He isn’t unduly nosey. He just loves people. He doesn’t care who they are or what they do. He always finds some way of connecting with them. It’s one of the many reasons I love him.
‘Can I get either of you a drink?’ I say. ‘Anything you like. It's an open bar.’
‘Really?’ says Stephen. ‘That's very generous of Robert and Elaine.’
‘They're too much in love to think of practicalities,’ says Brandon soulfully.