I've Got Your Number (47 page)

Stop.

You can’t.

Are you serious?

Poppy, why?

My breaths are short and ragged as I read his words. I wasn’t intending to get into a conversation, but at last I can’t stand it anymore, I have to reply.

What do you expect, I just walk away? 200 people are sitting here waiting.

Immediately, Sam’s reply comes firing back:

You think he loves you?

I twist the ring of gold strands round and round my right-hand finger, trying desperately to find a path through all the contradictory thoughts thrusting their way into my head. Does Magnus love me? I mean … what
is
love? No one knows what love is, exactly. No one can define it. No one can prove it. But if someone chooses a ring especially for you in Bruges, that’s got to be a good start, hasn’t it?

Yes.

I think Sam must have been poised for my answer, his replies come shooting back so quickly, three in a row.

No.

You’re wrong.

Stop. Stop. Stop. No. No.

I want to scream at him. It’s not fair. He
can’t
say all this now. He
can’t
shake me up now.

Well, what I am supposed to do???

I send it just as the door opens. It’s the Reverend Fox, followed by Toby, Tom, Annalise, and Ruby, all talking at once in an excited babble.

“Oh my God! The traffic! I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“Yes, but they couldn’t start without you, could they? It’s like planes.”

“They can, you know. They once took my luggage off the plane I was on, just because I was trying these jeans on and I didn’t hear the announcement.”

“Is there a mirror? I’ve
got
to do my lip gloss again.”

“Poppy, we got you some biscuits—”

“She doesn’t want biscuits! She’s got to be slim for her big moment!” Annalise swoops down on me. “What’s happened to your veil? It’s all bunched up. And your dress is crooked! Let me …”

“All right, missus?” Ruby gives me a hug as Annalise tugs at my train. “Ready?”

“I …” I feel dazed. “I guess so.”

“You look great.” Toby is crunching a digestive. “Much better. Hey, Felix wanted to say a quick hello. Is that OK?”

“Oh, of course.”

I feel powerless, standing here with everyone milling around me. I can’t even physically move, because Annalise is still adjusting my train. My phone beeps, and Reverend Fox gives me a frosty smile.

“Better turn that off, don’t you think?”

“Can you imagine if it went off during the service?” Annalise giggles. “Do you want me to hold it for you?”

She holds out her hand and I stare back at her, paralyzed. There’s a new text from Sam in my in-box. His reply. Part of me is so desperate to read it, I almost can’t contain my hands.

But another part is telling me to stop. Don’t go there. How can I read it now, as I’m about to walk up the aisle? It’ll mess me up. I’m here at my wedding day, surrounded
by friends and family.
This
is my real life. Not some guy I’m connected to through the ether. It’s time to say goodbye. It’s time to cut this thread.

“Thanks, Annalise.” I turn the phone off and gaze at it for a moment as the light dies away. There’s no one in there anymore. It’s just a dead, blank metal box.

I hand it to Annalise and she thrusts it into her bra.

“You’re holding your flowers too high.” She frowns at me. “You look really tense.”

“I’m fine.” I avoid her gaze.

“Hey, guess what?” Ruby comes rustling up in her dress. “I forgot to tell you: We’re getting a celebrity patient! That businessman who’s been all over the news. Sir Nicholas something?”

“You mean Sir Nicholas Murray?” I say incredulously.

“That’s the one.” She beams. “His assistant phoned up and booked a session with me! Said I’d been recommended by someone whose opinion he regards very highly. Who on earth d’you think that was?”

“I’ve … I’ve no idea,” I manage.

I’m so touched. And a bit freaked. Never in a million years did I think that Sir Nicholas would take me up on my recommendation. How can I face him again? What if he mentions Sam? What if—

No. Stop it, Poppy. By the time I see Sir Nicholas again, I’ll be a married woman. The whole bizarre little episode will be long forgotten. It’ll be fine.

“I’ll alert the organist that we’re ready to go,” says Reverend Fox. “Take your places for the procession, everyone.”

Annalise and Ruby make their way to their places behind
me. Tom and Toby are flanking me, each with an arm loosely crooked in mine. There’s a knock at the door, and Felix’s owlish face peers round.

“Poppy, you look amazing.”

“Thanks! Come in!”

“Just thought I’d wish you luck.” He heads toward me, skirting my dress hem carefully with his feet. “And say I’m so chuffed you’re joining the family. We all are. My parents think you’re brilliant.”

“Really?” I say, trying to hide my dubious tone. “Both your parents?”

“Oh yes.” He nods fervently. “They love you. They were so gutted when they heard it was all off.”

“Off?”
echo four astonished voices, all at once.

“Was the wedding off?” says Tom.

“When was it off?” demands Annalise. “You never told us, Poppy! Why didn’t you tell us?”

Great. This is all I need, the third degree from my entire wedding party.

“It was only temporary.” I try to downplay it. “You know. One of those last-minute wedding-jitter things. Everyone has them.”

“Mum gave Magnus such a hard time.” Felix’s eyes gleam behind his glasses. “She said he was a fool and he’d never find anyone better than you.”

“Really?” I can’t help feeling a glow.

“Oh, she was livid.” Felix looks highly entertained. “She practically threw the ring at him.”

“She threw the emerald ring?” I say in astonishment. That ring is worth thousands. Surely even Wanda wouldn’t start chucking it around the room.

“No, the gold twisty ring. That ring.” He nods at my
hand. “When she was getting it out of her dressing table for Magnus. She threw it at him and cut his forehead.” He chuckles. “Not badly, of course.”

I stare at him, frozen. What did he just say? Wanda got the gold twisty ring out of her dressing table?

“I thought …” I try to sound relaxed. “I thought Magnus bought it in Bruges.”

Felix looks blank. “Oh no. It’s Mum’s.
Was
Mum’s.”

“Right.” I lick my dry lips. “So, Felix, what happened exactly? Why did she give it to him? I wish I’d been there!” I try to sound lighthearted. “Tell me the whole story.”

“Well.” Felix screws up his eyes, as though trying to recall. “Mum told Magnus not to bother trying to give you that emerald ring again. And she got out the gold ring and said she couldn’t wait to have you as a daughter-in-law. Then Dad said, ‘Why are you bothering? It’s obvious Magnus doesn’t have the sticking power for a marriage,’ and Magnus got in a fury with him and said, yes, he does, and Dad said, ‘Look at the Birmingham job,’ and they had this massive argument like they always do and then … we got a takeaway supper.” He blinks. “That was pretty much it.”

Behind me, Annalise is leaning forward to listen. “So
that’s
why you switched rings. I
knew
you weren’t allergic to emeralds.”

This is Wanda’s ring. Magnus didn’t buy it especially for me at all. As I stare at my hand, I feel a bit sick. Then something else occurs to me.

“What Birmingham job?”

“You know. The one he quit. Dad always gives Magnus a hard time for being a quitter. Sorry, I thought you knew.” Felix is eyeing me curiously as loud organ chords from
above make us all jump. “Oh, we’re starting. I’d better beetle off. See you in there!”

“Yes, OK.” Somehow I manage to nod. But I feel as though I’m on another planet. I need to digest all this.

“Ready?” Reverend Fox is at the door, beckoning us out. As we arrive at the back of the church, I can’t help gasping. It’s filled with spectacular flower arrangements, and rows of people in hats, and a crackling air of expectation. I can just glimpse the back of Magnus’s head, right at the front.

Magnus
. The thought makes my stomach turn over. I can’t—I need time to think—

But I don’t have any time. The organ piece is gathering momentum. The choir suddenly crashes in with a triumphant chord. The Reverend Fox has already disappeared up the aisle. The fairground ride has begun, and I’m on it.

“All right?” Toby grins across at Tom. “Don’t trip her up, Bigfoot.”

And we’re off. We’re moving up the aisle, and people are smiling at me, and I’m aiming for a serene, happy gaze, but, inside, my thoughts are about as serene as the particles whizzing about in CERN.

It doesn’t matter…. It’s only a ring…. I’m overreacting…. But he lied to me….

Oh, wow, look at Wanda’s hat….

God, this music is amazing, Lucinda was right to get the choir….

What job in Birmingham? Why did he never tell me about that?

Am I gliding? Shit. OK, that’s better….

Come on, Poppy. Let’s get some perspective. You have a great relationship with Magnus. Whether he bought you
the ring himself or not is irrelevant. Some ancient job in Birmingham is irrelevant. And as for Sam—

No. Forget Sam. This is reality. This is my wedding. It’s my wedding, and I can’t even focus on it properly. What’s wrong with me?

I’m going to do it. I can do it. Yes. Yes. Bring it on….

Why the hell does Magnus look so sweaty?

As I arrive at the altar, all other thoughts are temporarily overcome by this last one. I can’t help gaping at him in dismay. He looks terrible. If I look like I’m sick, then he looks like he’s got malaria.

“Hi.” He gives me a weedy smile. “You look lovely.”

“Are you OK?” I whisper as I hand my bouquet to Ruby.

“Why wouldn’t I be OK?” he retorts defensively.

That doesn’t seem quite the right answer, but I can’t exactly challenge him on it.

The music has stopped, and Reverend Fox is addressing the congregation with an ebullient beam. He looks as though he absolutely loves taking weddings.

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here in the sight of God….”

As I hear the familiar words echoing around the church, I start to relax. OK. Here we go.
This
is what it’s all about.
This
is what I’ve been looking forward to. The pledges. The vows. The ancient, magical words which have been repeated under this roof so many times, for generations and generations.

So maybe we’ve had some blips and jitters in the run-up to our wedding. What couple doesn’t? But if we can just focus on our vows, if we can just make them special …

“Magnus.” Reverend Fox turns to Magnus, and there’s
a rustle of anticipation in the congregation. “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Magnus has a slightly glazed look in his eye, and he’s breathing heavily. He looks as though he’s psyching himself up for the hundred-meter Olympic final.

“Magnus?” prompts Reverend Fox.

“OK,” he says, almost to himself. “OK. Here goes. I can do this.” He takes an almighty deep breath and, in a loud, dramatic voice which rises to the ceiling, announces proudly: “I do.”

I do?

I do?

Wasn’t he
listening
?

“Magnus,” I whisper with a meaningful edge. “It’s not ‘I do.’ “

Magnus peers at me, clearly baffled. “Of course it’s ‘I do.’ “

I feel a surge of irritation. He wasn’t listening to a single word. He just said “I do” because it’s what they say in American films. I should have
known
this would happen. I should have ignored Antony’s snarky comments and made Magnus rehearse the vows.

“It’s not ‘I do,’ it’s ‘I will’!” I’m trying not to sound as upset as I feel. “Didn’t you listen to the question? ‘Wilt thou.’
‘Wilt thou.’
“

“Oh.”
Magnus’s brow clears in understanding. “I get it. Sorry. I will, then. Although it hardly matters, surely,” he adds with a shrug.

What?

“Shall we resume?” Reverend Fox is saying hurriedly. “Poppy.” He beams at me. “Wilt thou take this man to thy wedded husband …”

I’m sorry. I can’t let that go.

“Sorry, Reverend Fox.” I lift a hand. “One more thing. Sorry.” For good measure, I swivel round to the congregation. “I just need to clear up a tiny point. I won’t be a moment.” I turn back to Magnus and say in a furious undertone, “What do you mean, ‘it hardly matters’? Of
course
it matters! It’s a question. You’re supposed to
answer
it.”

“Sweets, I think that’s taking it a
little
literally.” Magnus is looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Can we crack on?”

“No, we cannot crack on! It’s a literal question! Wilt thou take me? A question. What do
you
think it is?”

“Well.” Magnus shrugs again. “You know. A symbol.”

It’s as though he’s lit my fuse paper. How can he say that? He
knows
how important the vows are to me.

“Not everything in life is a bloody
symbol
!” I explode. “It’s a real, proper question, and you didn’t answer it properly! Don’t you mean
anything
you’re saying here?”

“For God’s sake, Poppy.” Magnus lowers his voice. “Is this really the time?”

What’s he suggesting, that we say the vows and then discuss whether we meant them or not
afterward
?

OK, so perhaps we should have discussed our vows before we were standing at the altar. I can see that now. If I could go back in time, I’d do it differently. But I can’t. It’s now or never. And, in my defense, Magnus knew what the wedding vows were, didn’t he? I mean, I haven’t exactly
sprung them on him, have I? They’re not exactly a secret, are they?