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gets back.89
I can’t cope. I need Magnus to be here, in this country, in this room. I need to ask him,
“Have you been unfaithful with Lucinda?” and see what he says, and then maybe we can move
forward and I can work out what I’m going to do. Until then, I feel like I’m in limbo.
As I go to make another cup of tea, I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror,
and I wince. My hair is a mess. My hands are covered with newsprint from reading all the
papers. My stomach is full of acid, and my skin looks drawn. So much for my bridal beauty
regimem. According to my plan, last night I was supposed to apply a hydration mask. I didn’t
even take my makeup off.
I’d originally set today aside to do wedding preparation—but every time I even think
about it, my insides clench and I feel like crying or shouting at someone. (Well, Magnus.)
There’s no point just sitting here all day though. I have to go out. I have to do something. After a
few sips of tea, I decide to go in to work. I don’t have any appointments, but I’ve got some
admin I can catch up with. And at least it’ll force me to have a shower and get myself together.
I’m the first to arrive, and I sit in the quiet calm, sorting through patient files, letting the
monotony of the job soothe me. Which lasts about five minutes before Angela slouches through
the door and clatters around, starting her computer and making coffee and turning on the
wall-mounted telly.
“Do we have to?” I feel as if I’ve got a hangover, even though I hardly drank anything
last night, and I could do without this blaring in my ears. But Angela stares at me as though I’ve
violated some basic human right.
“I always watch Daybreak.”
It’s not worth arguing. I could always heft all the files into my appointment room, but I
don’t have the energy for that either, so I just hunch my shoulders and try to block the world out.
“Parcel!” Angela dumps a Jiffy bag in front of me. “StarBlu. Is that your swimwear for
the honeymoon?”
I stare at it blankly. I was a different person when I ordered that. I can remember myself
now, going online one lunchtime, picking out bikinis and wraps. Never in a million years did I
think that three days before the wedding I’d be sitting here, wondering if the whole thing should
go ahead at all.
“ … and in today’s front-page story, we’re talking possible corruption at government
level.” The presenter’s voice attracts my attention. “Here in the studio, a man who has known Sir
Nicholas Murray for thirty years: Alan Smith-Reeves. Alan, this is a confusing business. What’s
your take?”
“I know that guy,” Angela says self-importantly, as Alan Smith-Reeves starts talking.
“He used to work in the same building as my last job.”
“Oh, right.” I nod politely, as a picture of Sam appears on the screen.
I can’t look. Just the sight of him sends shooting pains through my chest, but I don’t even
know why. Is it because he’s in trouble? Is it because he’s the only other person who knows
about Magnus? Is it because last night I was standing in a wood with his arms around me and
now I’ll probably never see him again?
“He’s quite good-looking,” says Angela, squinting at Sam critically. “Is he Sir Nicholas
Whatsit?”
“No!” I say, more vehemently than I meant to. “Don’t be stupid!”
“All right!” She scowls at me. “What’s it to you, anyway?”
I can’t answer. I have to escape from all this. I get to my feet. “Want a coffee?”
“I’m making one. Duh.” Angela shoots me an odd look. “Are you OK? What are you
doing here, anyway? Thought you had the day off.”
“I wanted to get ahead with stuff.” I grab my denim jacket. “But maybe it was a bad
idea.”
“Here she is!” The door bursts open and Ruby and A
talking about you!” says Ruby, looking surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d do some admin. But I’m going.”
“No, don’t go! Wait a sec.” Ruby grabs my shoulder, then turns to A
A
write a letter.”
Uh-oh. She’s wearing her headmistressy look. And A
What’s going on?
“I don’t want to say it.” A
“Say it. Then it’s done.” Ruby is eyeing A
impossible to ignore.
“OK!” A
I behaved badly with Magnus the other day. It was wrong of me and I was just doing it to get
back at you.”
“And?” prompts Ruby.
“I’m sorry I’ve given you a hard time. Magnus is yours, not mine. He belongs with you,
not me. And I’m never going to mention the fact we switched appointments again,” she finishes
in a rush. “Promise.”
She looks so discomfited, I feel quite touched. I can’t believe Ruby did that. They should
put her in charge at White Globe Consulting. She’d sort out Justin Cole in no time.
“Well … thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.”
“I truly am sorry, you know, Poppy.” A
want to spoil your wedding.”
“A
feel tears welling up in my eyes.
If anything spoils my wedding it’ll be the fact that it was called off. It’ll be the fact that
Magnus didn’t really love me after all. It’ll be the fact that I was a completely stupid, deluded
fool …
Oh God. I am going to cry.
“Missus?” Ruby gives me a close look. “You OK?”
“Fine!” I exclaim, blinking furiously.
“Wedding stress,” says A
last? Go on! I’ll help. I’ll be a bridesmaidzilla. Let’s go and throw a hissy fit somewhere. That’ll
cheer you up.”
I raise a half smile and wipe my eyes. I don’t know how to respond. Do I tell them about
Magnus? They’re my friends, after all, and I’m longing for someone to talk to.
But then, what if it is all a mix-up? I haven’t heard anything further from Unknown
Number.90 The whole thing’s guesswork. I can’t start telling the world that Magnus has been
unfaithful, based on one anonymous text. And then have A
calling him a love rat and booing as we walk down the aisle.91
“I’m just tired,” I say at last.
“Slap-up breakfast!” exclaims Ruby. “That’s what you need.”
“No!” I say in horror. “I won’t fit into my dress!”
Assuming I’m still going to get married. I feel the rush of tears again. Preparing for a
wedding is stressful enough. Preparing for a wedding or possible last-minute breakup/cancelation
is going to turn my hair gray.
“You will,” Ruby contradicts me. “Everyone knows brides lose two dress sizes before
their wedding. You’ve got a massive margin to play with there, girl. Use it! Pig out! You’ll never
be in this position again!”
“Have you dropped two dress sizes?” asks A
can’t have.”
“No,” I say gloomily. “Maybe half of one.”
“Well, that qualifies you for a latte and a doughnut, at any rate,” says Ruby, heading for