Annabel bought her hat in the January sales. It wasn’t really a hat, more like a fascinator, with sparkling woven fabric and a large peacock feather that glistened with azures, greens and mauves. The colouring reminded her a little of bottle flies.
Matt and Emily hadn’t announced their engagement yet, but Annabel had seen how they looked at each other over the Christmas table and when Matt asked whether he could have Grandma’s engagement ring, well he didn’t need to say anymore, did he?
Annabel was right. The engagement was announced three days after Emily’s birthday in February, the wedding planned for June.
‘It’s all a bit quick, don’t you think?’ Annabel asked her best friend Megan, as they settled down at the farmhouse table with freshly baked ginger biscuits and large mugs of tea. ‘I thought the young had long, drawn out engagements these days.’
‘Perhaps she’s pregnant,’ Megan mused, adding a third spoonful of sugar to her tea.
Annabel ignored the comment. ‘We haven’t even met her parents yet. They’re travelling. A world cruise to celebrate her father’s retirement. I offered to help with the wedding planning, what with her mother being away, but I got firmly rejected.’
‘That’s a bit off,’ Megan said, frowning. ‘What do you know about the family?’
‘Very little. The surname is Smith and they live near Midhurst. We are meeting them the Sunday after next.’
Thirty years ago, twenty-two-year old Annabel walked up the aisle clutching her father’s arm. It was a grandiose affair in a large imposing church, bedecked with white roses and trailing ivy. The bride glanced up demurely through her veil, her eyes seeking out Robert, her fiancé. But Robert’s eyes were locked onto someone else’s. Annabel looked over her shoulder to see who Robert was gazing at.
Janie. One of her three adult bridesmaids.
‘We are gathered here today –,’ the vicar intoned.
‘I can’t do it.’ Robert whispered, his eyes welling up. ‘I’m sorry, Annabel.’ And he turned and fled down the aisle, the clip clop of Janie’s heels reverberating through the sacred space as she ran after him. The congregation gasped.
Three years later, with a heart barely healed, Annabel met William. They got married in Horsham’s registry office.
Bearing in mind her scarring experiences, it is hardly surprising that Annabel feels on edge at the thought of her son’s wedding, so when the lockdown comes along, she is, in a strange kind of way, deeply relieved.
‘Get out of London, come to us in Sussex,’ Annabel suggested over the phone to Matt.
‘We’ll see,’ he said. ‘I think Emily would rather be with her parents.’
‘What’s wrong with our home? It’s quite big enough for you to have your own space.’
‘Emily hasn’t seen her parents for three months. It was touch and go whether they’d be able to get home from their cruise.’
‘You should come here, and Emily can go to her parents,’ Annabel said. She knew she was being churlish, but she didn’t want to lose her son.
‘No, Mum. We’re staying together. We’ll come and see you as soon as we can.’
‘What’s happening about the wedding?’ Annabel asked.
‘We’ve got to postpone it. We’ll be sending out emails.’
Annabel felt a strange relief that the big wedding was to be delayed, and frankly, she was in no hurry to meet Emily’s parents. Perhaps once they had spent a few weeks in lockdown all together, the wedding might be called off.
One week before their original wedding date, Matt and Emily sent out an email announcing that they would be having an online ceremony via Zoom. Emily’s cousin was a registrar and although the nuptials were unlikely to be legal, they wanted to get married anyway. They would do it all over again properly, after lockdown.
‘What a lovely idea,’ William said. ‘You’ll be able to wear your hat.’
When the day dawned, Annabel got up very early to wash and blow dry her hair. She sprayed her grey roots with a coloured mousse, and carefully applied her makeup. She put on her new purple dress and wedged the fascinator hat on the top of her head. She twirled around in the full-length mirror, happy with the way she looked.
At 11:30 am, William switched on the computer. He clicked on the link and up popped several faces all in their own square boxes.
‘Hi, Mum and Dad!’ Matt said. It took a moment for Annabel to work out which box his face was in. ‘I’d just like to introduce you to everyone. Emily, my bride to be.’ He put his arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him, smiling. ‘And my parents-in-law, Simon and Jane Smith.’
‘Hello!’ The older couple in the adjacent square to Emily and Matt jiggled their fingers in some kind of a mock wave. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you,’ Simon Smith enthused.
But Annabel’s eyes were fixed on his wife. She recognised those green eyes and heart-shaped face. Annabel lunged for the mouse and clicked the End Meeting button.
‘What did you do that for?’ William asked, as the screen disappeared.
‘It’s the bitch who ruined my life.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Emily’s mother is Janie McKenna. Jane McKenna went off with my fiancé. She stole the love of my life.’
William paused for a moment as the statement sank in.
‘The reason I didn’t want to get married in a church was because I was stood up at the altar. Robert was the love of my life and that cow stole him and she didn’t even marry him!’ She jabbed a finger at the darkened screen.
William pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked slowly across the room, into the kitchen and out of the back door.
Copyright Miranda Rijks 2022