‘There’s one other… problem.’ Freya gulps. ‘Rox saw red and has stolen one of the guest’s e-scooters. She’s on her way to Miles’s cottage.’
‘Oh, God,’ Dad says, clutching his head. ‘It’s very likely that she will kill him.’ Suddenly galvanised, Dad sprints into the church, perhaps to pray that Rox doesn’t catch up to the runaway groom, or possibly that she does. Jury is still out on how Dad’s feeling at the minute.
While my sister and I bicker like children, we stick together through thick and thin. Yes, we might torment each other – but that doesn’t mean anyone else is allowed the privilege. Rox is fiercely protective of her family, but I do worry there’s a little too much homicidal maniac languishing just under the surface, and any excuse will do to act on those urges.
Right now, I’ve got bigger things to worry about, like being on display as guests wander from the church and swing their confused gazes squarely at me. Great, now I have an audience to witness my humiliation.
I can imagine the whispers around the village:Poor boy left that travel-obsessed Aubrey at the altar, so her crazy sister ran him over with a stolen e-scooter and now he’s missing a leg! Those girls need taking into line. No wonder he changed his mind, family like that!
Wait, no! Miles doesn’t get to be dismembered to avoid the blame! I fumble for my phone and call my sister, who answers on the first ring. ‘I’m almost at his place. I’m going to take great pleasure in hurting him, like he hurt you, Aubrey!’ Her words come out breathless, choppy, as if she’s riding a wave of adrenaline.
Oh God, she is going to kill him! Let’s just say she’s never taken to Miles; well, except that one time she literally took to him with a hammer after a slight misunderstanding between the pair, and ever since then, Rox has been leery of the guy. Was she right about him all along?
‘Please don’t, Rox.’ My little sister strikes me as the type who’d enjoy a bit of bloodshed now there’s a reason to warrant it. The very last thing I need is this to blow up into a grievous bodily harm charge. Part of me hopes this is just a kneejerk reaction and Miles will be right back, red-faced, full of apologies. But isn’t his desertion unforgivable? ‘Let him run away like the fool he is!’ I cry.
‘What!’ she screeches. ‘Where’s the fun in that? No, he needs to pay for his crimes. I want to manslaughter him.’
I gasp. ‘This isn’t manslaughter, Rox. This is premeditated?—’
‘Slaughter all the toxic men who dare hurt women. Man-slaughter the man-splainer!’
‘Oh right. I see the difference.’
While I wouldn’t mind him suffering a spot of pain right now, any retaliation will paint him as the victim and I need answers first. What if there is a valid reason? But then why isn’t he talking? Nothing makes sense! ‘And he will pay, Rox, but if you hurt him, which you’re very capable of, he then becomes the wronged man, and everyone will be sympathetic towards him. Let’s be clear, he doesn’t deserve that!’
How am I thinking so straight? Why aren’t I curled up in the foetal position? I suppose all that’s still to come. Unless I escape.
Is there a town in this big wide world that has zero men in it? If not, I’ll make one. A community of jilted brides. We’ll burn effigies of cowardly men and?—
‘How would anyone in their right mind be sympathetic towards him? I’m not planning on killing the snake, just maiming him a bit, for crying out loud!’
Maiming him! How to convince her, and fast? ‘Mum and Dad live here too. They don’t want to face any blowback, Rox. They’d never live it down. Wouldn’t it be better to hurt him in, say, a year or so when no one will connect those dots back to you?’ Buying time is the best I can do for the damn man in the hopes her anger will wane.
Rox is quiet while she contemplates it. ‘You’re right. He is the type who’ll press charges. A future stealth attack is much smarter. Fine, this calls for plan B then.’ With that she abruptly hangs up.
‘What’s she doing?’ Freya asks, peeking out through her hands as if she doesn’t really want the details. Probably wise.
I shrug helplessly. ‘Plan B.’
When the stragglers by the church doors become a crowd and a few break off and make their way towards the wedding car, I’m spurred into action. There’s no way I’m having a conversation with these people before I’ve talked to Miles. Mum and Dad are still inside, probably with Miles’s parents, so I leave them to it.
I call to the driver, who doubles as the local postman, and now has a front-row seat to this disaster show. ‘Can you take me home please?’
‘Sure.’
3
16 DECEMBER, KENT, ENGLAND
Wedding Day (that wasn’t)
We arrive back at the cottage I share with Rox. Miles and I haven’t officially moved in together yet – he still shares a bachelor pad with Leo – but I usually sleep there most evenings, even though I rent a room in Rox’s cottage. The plan is (was?) to find our own house after the honeymoon. Now I’m thankful I have this private space in which to fall apart.
Freya wrings her hands while I question every little thing before collapsing on the sofa in a messy, sobbing heap. Were my own doubts earlier a sign that things weren’t right between us, or were they simply the doubts of a nervous bride?
Truth be told, settling in one place always felt like a huge sacrifice, but I’d been prepared to do it because of my love for Miles. What changed for him? What made him baulk at the idea of matrimony?
Our phones simultaneously beep with a text. Freya swipes her screen. ‘Your parents have told everyone at the venue,’ she says. ‘They want to know if they should invite guests to enjoy the reception, or not?’
