Gypsy Wedding (8 page)

Her mother had moseyed back to sit with the other mothers at a table near the enormous fairy-tale castle cake, the younger girls were dancing their socks off to impress the boys, Theresa was still draped over her new husband, and the boys and men were all crowded around the bar talking horses and cars and knocking back a few beers. It was going to be a while before the food was served and Vicky was suddenly fed up. She was too old to join in with the kids, she was too young to sit with the mothers and she was the wrong sex to go to the bar and be with Liam. Despite the jollity going on around her Vicky felt bored and more than a bit sorry for herself.

As if on cue her mobile rang. Kelly.

‘Hiya, Kel. How’s things?’ At least chatting to Kelly on her mobile was a step up from being Norma No-Mates.

‘Okay, what about you?’

‘I’m at the Park Hotel. A mate of mine is getting wed.’

‘No way, the Park? But I’m just down the road at the Boathouse. A gang of us from school got together this lunchtime for a drink to make the most of this weather and we’re still here. It’s gone from a few drinks to a picnic. We’re all down on the riverbank enjoying the sunshine. Why don’t you come along and join us?’

‘Can’t really. You know how it is for me about being out and about on my own.’

‘Oh, come on, Vick. You’re almost seventeen and it’s broad daylight, what on earth could happen?’

On the one hand, Kelly was right about what could happen, but on the other, going out alone wasn’t what traveller girls did. ‘I don’t know, Kel.’

‘What if I came over to the hotel and got you?’

Now Vicky felt rather childish. Surely she was old enough and responsible enough to pop over to the Boathouse to hang out with a few mates for a little while? Although she would be a bit overdressed for a picnic. But hey, she was bunking off from a wedding. She’d hardly be likely to be wearing denim shorts, now would she? She glanced around the room. Liam was happy with his friends, her mum was gassing away, Shania – well, goodness knew what she was up to but she certainly wouldn’t want her sister interfering – and her dad was well stuck into the beers. Realistically, would anyone even notice that she had gone? Vicky made up her mind.

‘Okay, Kelly, but only for twenty minutes. It’d be bad manners not to be here when they cut the cake and everything.’

‘See you soon then, babe.’

‘Yeah, I’ll be over in just a couple of minutes.’

Vicky slipped out of the big banqueting suite and headed for the loos. The instant she was sure no one was watching she slid through a side door and went towards the gates of the hotel. She hoped that, despite her short, pillar-box-red dress, no one would spot her disappearing over the road, through the park to the river.

As soon as she reached the park she slipped off her engagement ring like she always did when away from her own community and then she kicked off her high heels and ran barefoot across the grass. Heads turned at the sight of the extraordinarily pretty girl in a stunning dress as she flashed past picnickers and people taking advantage of the beautiful weather. Panting, she arrived at the Boathouse pub and instantly spotted Kelly and a gang from their school, all lounging around on the riverbank, glasses of cold drinks to hand, packets of crisps and a few leftover sandwiches on paper plates on the rug.

Vicky shouted hello as she approached and was suddenly cripplingly self-conscious of her clothes. All the others were in shorts and T-shirts, although a few of the girls were just sporting bikini tops with their denim cut-offs. And yet here was she, done up to the nines, more slap on her face than a circus clown, walking barefoot with her high heels in her hand.

‘Cor you look posh,’ said one of the girls.

‘Just come from a wedding.’

‘Not yours, I hope,’ said some joker.

‘Course not,’ said Vicky, all the while wondering what on earth they’d say if she let on that this time next year it almost certainly
would
be her wedding. The novelty of her arrival quickly wore off; the kids went back to talking in groups and Vicky, despite her clothes, regained some anonymity. She chucked her shoes on the grass and flopped down on a rug spread out on the riverbank beside her friend.

‘Love your dress,’ said Kelly.

‘Ta.’

‘Did you make it?’

Vicky nodded.

‘You’re just so clever with a needle.’

‘I dunno. I’m only following instructions. When I go to college I want to learn how to design my own stuff.’

‘You’ll be well good at it.’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘Yes you will. You’ve got style. You just know how to make clothes look good.’

Vicky shrugged, embarrassed by her friend’s praise.

‘I’ll second that,’ said a voice behind them.

Kelly looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. ‘And who asked your opinion, Jordan?’

Shit – Jordan. If Kelly had told her that Jordan was with this bunch of mates she’d have thought twice about coming. It was one thing sloping off to meet Kelly, it was something else entirely meeting Jordan. And meeting Jordan looking so hot. He was just wearing a pair of faded denims and a plain white T-shirt but the jeans were skin tight and his T-shirt emphasised not only how toned his body was but also his wonderful coffee-coloured skin.

Vicky shot a look at Kelly, which clearly blamed her of having engineered this rendezvous. Kelly returned the look and shook her head just slightly, the picture of someone wrongly accused. Vicky wasn’t sure whether she believed Kelly hadn’t had something to do with this meeting.

Jordan settled himself on the grass beside Vicky. ‘Fancy seeing you here. It’s not often you come out with us. In fact,’ he said, ‘you
never
come out with us. How come you’ve escaped from your ivory tower?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Vicky. ‘You make me sound like that girl with the long hair. Rapunzel?’

‘And your point is? Anyway, it’s part of your attraction – the fact that you’re so mysterious. Let’s face it, Vicky, you’re not like other girls.’

Vicky snorted, he was right there. Not that she’d ever let on just how close to the truth he was. And she didn’t like it that he was taking such an interest in her.

‘Where’s Chloe?’ she asked pointedly.

‘Won’t be here till later. Got family commitments this afternoon.’ Jordan seemed unfazed by her mention of his girlfriend.

‘That’s a shame. Aren’t you feeling a bit lonely without her?’

‘We’re not joined at the hip, Vicky. We’re just mates.’

‘And there was me thinking you’re boyfriend and girlfriend.’

‘What you getting at? Just because we date doesn’t mean I can’t talk to anyone else.’

Vicky kept the fact that she didn’t think that Chloe shared that opinion to herself, and anyway, what business was it of hers? The silence lengthened and Vicky basked in the warm sun while wondering, vaguely, about Jordan’s apparent inability to commit.

‘You haven’t got anything to drink,’ said Kelly, noticing.

‘’S’all right.’

‘It’s not all right. Jordy, be a gent and go and get Vicky a drink.’

‘No, it’s fine, honest,’ insisted Vicky.

But Jordan was on his feet. ‘What would you like?’

‘Well, if you’re sure, a Coke would be nice.’

‘Just a Coke?’

Vicky nodded.

‘Can’t tempt you to a shot of Bacardi in it?’

‘No – thanks,’ she added, trying not to sound too shocked at being offered spirits.

‘Suit yourself.’

Jordan wandered off to the pub on his errand and Vicky rolled over onto her stomach. ‘So, Kelly, I hope you didn’t get me here with any idea of setting me up with Jordan, because if you did, you and I are going to fall out.’

‘As if,’ said Kelly, her blue eyes wide and innocent.

‘No? So it wasn’t you who gave Jordan my mobile number?’

Kelly wrinkled her nose. ‘You’ve got me bang to rights there. But only because he wouldn’t shut up about it. He went on and on and eventually I just gave in. I reckoned you’d handle him though. I knew you’d tell him where to get off if he tried pestering you.’

‘Yeah, well … but I wish you hadn’t. Suppose Liam sees the number?’

‘And what are you doing letting Liam snoop around your private life anyway? I think people who check out other people’s mobiles are well out of order. It’s like reading your email.’

‘It’s not like that.’

‘Oh come off it, Vick. You’re well under the thumb.’

‘Am not.’ Vicky glared at Kelly.

‘Are too.’

‘Am not. I’m here now, aren’t I?’

‘And hooray for that. But let’s face it, this is a first. You could have knocked me down with a feather when you said you were going to come on over. So,’ Kelly said, staring hard at her friend, ‘what made you say yes this time?’

Vicky shrugged. ‘I dunno.’ She sighed and thought about her actions. ‘To be honest, the wedding was a bit same-old, same-old. Know what I mean?’

‘Not really. I’ve only been to one that I can remember. My cousin got married last year and it was a right laugh.’

‘Well,’ Vicky lowered her voice so the others in the group by the river wouldn’t hear what she had to say. ‘Well, us travellers, we have big families and there’s a wedding just about every month in the summer. I’ve probably been to more weddings than you’ve had cooked breakfasts. And it’s always the same.’ She described the younger girls dancing to attract a boyfriend, the men getting stuck in at the bar and the mothers gossiping. ‘And I felt left out. I don’t belong to any of the groups right now – at least, that’s how it feels.’

‘Oh, babe. But what about Liam?’

Vicky sighed again. ‘What about him? I mean, I know he loves me …’

‘But?’

‘But … I think sometimes I get taken for granted just a bit.’ There, she’d said it. ‘He’s got me now – the rock is on my finger,’ she fingered ‘the rock’ on the chain around her neck as she said this and then added, ‘and I’m his and that’s it. I know he loves me, he really does and he’s going to be a great husband, one of the best, but …’

‘So he was ignoring you at the wedding, was that it? He was off with his mates, boozing at the bar and you felt all lonely.’

‘That’s it exactly, Kelly. How did you know?’

‘Because, babe, that’s men the world over. Once they’ve got you they think they can stop trying. Nothing special about your Liam there.’

‘And who is Liam?’ Jordan had arrived back with Vicky’s Coke.

‘Will you quit listening to other people’s conversations,’ said Vicky, rolling over and sitting up so she could give Jordan the full force of her irritation.

‘I was just asking.’ Jordan sounded defensive. ‘Here’s your Coke.’ He held the glass out and some of the condensation that had collected on the chilled glass dripped off and ran down Vicky’s arm. Jordan leaned down and wiped the trickle of water off with his forefinger. Vicky jumped like she’d been burned and slopped the drink, aggravating the problem.

‘Now look,’ she yelled, staring at the wet mark on her dress. But she was more fraught about the way her body had reacted to his touch. It had been like the moment when Liam had kissed her for the first time – but multiplied by ten.

‘Sorry, Vick,’ mumbled Jordan.

‘And so you should be,’ she yelled, using her anger to try to push her body’s treachery out of her mind.

‘Look, I’ll get this sorted.’ Jordan sounded really apologetic. ‘Come to the bar with me and we’ll see if we can’t rinse the Coke out somehow.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘No, he’s right, Vick. Let’s go to the Ladies. If we get some water on the mark we can get the worst out. It’ll soon dry in this sunshine and no one need know.’

‘I suppose.’ Vicky wasn’t convinced but hey, it was worth a try. If all else failed she supposed she could pretend someone at the party at the hotel had spilt drink over her. No one need know the real truth.

The three teenagers made their way into the cool dark of the pub. Kelly managed to produce a tissue from her handbag and the two girls dived into the Ladies to try to repair the damage. Five minutes later they emerged. The mark was significantly better and they’d managed to almost get it dry with the help of the hand-drier.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Jordan, ‘I shouldn’t have made you jump like that. It was all my fault.’

‘Nah, my fault for overreacting.’ And what an overreaction. Vicky pushed the memory of his touch back into a recess. She told herself he was right, that he’d just made her jump. The heat from his hand contrasting against the cold water off the glass had come as a shock. That had been all it was. And she wasn’t going to think about it any more. Never. ‘Come on, let’s finish our drinks and then I must get going.’

‘What is it with you?’ asked Jordan as they made their way back into the sunshine. ‘You’re like Cinderella. I’ve never known a girl who’s so twitchy about being late. You need to learn how to chill.’

The three of them flopped down again on the big tartan rug. ‘I’m not being funny, Jordan, but what is it with you and fairy tales today? Ivory towers? Cinderella?’ Vicky laughed. ‘The sunshine is making you all soft in the head.’