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         How did she react?

         She was pretty shocked.

         I bet.

         There’s silence for a while. A fresh text from A

don’t open it. I can’t bear to break the thread between Sam and me. I’m gripping my iPhone

tightly, peering at the screen, waiting to see if he’ll text again. He has to text again …

         And then there’s a beep.

         Can’t be an easy day for you. Today was supposed to be the wedding day, right?

         My insides seem to plunge. What do I answer? What?

         Yes.

         Well, here’s something to cheer you up.

         Cheer me up? I’m peering at the screen, puzzled, when a photo text suddenly arrives,

which makes me laugh in surprise. It’s a picture of Sam sitting in a dentist’s chair. He’s smiling

widely and wearing a cartoon sticker on his lapel that says, I was a good dental patient!!

         He did that for me, flashes through my head before I can stop it. He went to the dentist

for me.

         No. Don’t be stupid. He went for his teeth. I hesitate, then type:

         You’re right, that did cheer me up. Well done. About time!

         An instant later he replies:

         Are you free for a cup of coffee?

         And to my horror, with no warning, tears start pressing at my eyes. How can he call now

and ask me for a cup of coffee? How can he not realize that things have moved on? What did he

think I would do? As I type, my thumbs are jerky and agitated.

         You brushed me off.

         What?

         You sent me the brush off email.

         I never send emails, you know that. Must have been my PA. She’s too efficient.

         He didn’t send it?

         OK, now I can’t cope. I’m going to cry, or laugh hysterically, or something. I had it all

sorted in my mind. I knew where everything was and where everything stood. Now my head’s a

maelstrom again.

         The iPhone beeps with a follow-up text from Sam:

         You’re not offended, are you?

         I close my eyes. I have to explain. But what do I—How do I—

         At last, without even opening my eyes, I text:

         You don’t understand.

         What don’t I understand?

         I can’t bear to type the words. Somehow I just can’t do it. Instead, I stretch out my arm as

far as it will go, take a photo of myself, then examine the result.

         Yes. It’s all there in the shot: my veil, my headdress, a glimpse of my wedding dress, the

corner of my lily bouquet. There’s absolutely no doubt as to what’s going on.

         I press Sam Mobile and then send. There. It’s gone through the ether. Now he knows. I’ll

probably never hear from him again after this. That’s it. It was a strange little encounter between

two people, and this is the end. With a sigh, I sink down into the chair. The bells above have

stopped pealing, and there’s a strange, still quietness in the room.

         Until suddenly the beeps start. Frantic and continuous, like an emergency siren. I pick up

my iPhone in shock, and they’re stacking up in my in-box: text after text after text, all from Sam.

         No.

         No no no no no.

       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 comes 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, A

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 a

        “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!” A

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 A

        “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 A

a frosty smile.

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

        “Can you imagine if it went off during the service?” A

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 co

goodbye. It’s time to cut this thread.

        “Thanks, A

away. There’s no one in there anymore. It’s just a dead, blank metal box.

        I hand it to A

        “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?