Dream Wedding

Surely it wouldn't be wrong to take what he offered, even if it had to last her a lifetime? And it might work. He

might just find that when the time came to let her go he couldn't—mightn't he?

The answer came coldly and steadily from somewhere deep within that still remained hers. He might give her the physical gift of his body for a few weeks, a few months, but that would be all. And it wouldn't be enough.

She pulled away from him abruptly, her body freezing. If he couldn't love her it would be like having the most wonderful present in the world wrapped up in shiny, glittering paper but with the proviso that it must never be unwrapped, never be enjoyed. A gift that was no gift at all.

'Please leave, Reece.'

'Leave?' He had taken a step back as she had jerked away, his eyes narrowing like twin blades on her face. 'Are you sure that's what you want?' He was asking about more than just the immediate moment and she knew it.

'Yes.' She raised her head carefully, her face white. 'I'm quite sure.'

And after he'd gone, banging the door behind him with unnecessary force, she realised that for the first time since she had met him she was sure. She had just sentenced herself to misery and loneliness, to a life that even now gripped her with panic, but she was still sure that it was the only way to go. It was over, finished, done with. Now all she had to do was learn to live with the annihilation of all her dreams and hopes.

CHAPTER NINE

The next morning, after a few hours' troubled sleep, Miriam arose to find that nature had conspired to set Barbara's wedding day in a morning of exquisite winter beauty. As she glanced out of the window just before five the still, white world outside was transparently ethereal, the thick snow scattered with a million glittering crystals from the harsh frost during the night and the trees and bushes silent and motionless in the hushed, cold air.

The serene tranquillity was like a balm to her sore heart as she forced herself to eat a slice of toast and drink a cup of coffee before starting work, and when the others arrived, along with the extra staff they had taken on for the day, the sheer pace of work drove everything but the success of the next few hours out of her mind.

She had promised Barbara a few days before that she would try and make the church for the actual ceremony, and was more than a little touched when Barbara swept into the kitchens at just after nine to remind her of the fact.

'You look lovely, just lovely.' She hastily ushered Reece's sister out of the chaos in the kitchen, fearing for her dress, and into the big hall where most of the family were assembling, awaiting the fleet of cars that were to take them to the church. Craig had already left an hour or so earlier with Donnie, his best man, on Barbara's explicit instructions. She had been terrified he would see her before the ceremony, convinced it was bad luck.

'Do you think so?' Barbara's face was pale under the carefully applied make-up, her eyes anxious. 'Miriam, he's so much younger than me. What if he has second thoughts, or takes one look at me and bolts?'

'Don't be so ridiculous.' Miriam was going to smile, thinking that Barbara was half-joking, but then she saw the tremulous mouth and fear in the lovely grey eyes. 'You look beautiful, Barbara, absolutely beautiful, but even if you didn't it wouldn't make any difference to Craig.' She stepped back a pace to admire the calf-length, wildly expensive, crushed silk dress in pale apricot, with its tiny matching hat and veil. 'He loves you; you're the only one for him, so just enjoy the day.'

'Good advice.' She forced herself to show no reaction whatsoever as Reece's deep voice sounded over her shoulder, and counted to ten before she nerved herself to turn and face him. He looked wonderful—she had known that he would—resplendent in top hat and tails in smoky grey, the cut of the material accentuating his broad shoulders and muscled frame and causing the breath to catch in her throat. 'Barbara tells me you're coming to the church,' he said quietly as his eyes wandered over her flushed face and tousled hair. 'Is that right?'

'Yes.' She was instantly on the defensive. 'I'm going to change in just a minute,' she added quickly, suspecting that he disapproved of the casual trousers and blouse that she was wearing.

'I was just going to say there are several trays of buttonholes in the hall if you would like to help yourself to one as you leave,' he answered mildly, before turning away to speak to one of Craig's numerous relations and leaving her to give her best wishes to Barbara.

She hurried back to the kitchens to explain that she was slipping away for an hour, only to get embroiled in one panic after another. The church service was at ten and the family left at half past nine, at which point she fled into the flat and threw the dress and coat she had put by for the morning onto her hot, sticky frame.

Both Barbara and Reece had insisted that she could use Barbara's neat little sports car over the weekend, but after last night she couldn't bring herself to drive it and trundled off to the church a few miles away in the large van that Mitch had driven that morning. There were no parking spaces within a hundred-yard radius of the church and she had just emerged from the van, hot and flustered after persuading it into a space that just fitted, when a coolly amused female voice sounded just behind her.

'Hello again…' She turned slowly, her instinct rather than her ears telling her whom the voice belonged to. Sharon was standing to one side of an imperious Mercedes which her parents were just leaving, her silver-blonde hair coiled into an elegant chignon on which a tiny little green hat nestled, her tall, slim body clothed in an exquisitely cut, close-fitting green suit of the same hue, enhancing the big emerald eyes into dark pools. 'Miriam, isn't it?'

'Yes. Good morning.' As she spoke she smiled and nodded at Sharon's parents, who inclined their heads coldly, their faces plainly stating that they found it extraordinary that their precious daughter was talking to someone who had just emerged from a somewhat dirty old van.

'You're going to the church?' Sharon's voice held just the right note of surprised disapproval, and as the chilly gaze moved slowly, and pointedly, over Miriam's clothes Miriam's chin rose a few notches in answer to the unspoken insult. 'I mean, you must have masses to do,' Sharon drawled sweetly as she began to walk away, linking her arm in that of her father's.

There had been no need of a reply, and as Miriam locked the van's door she found that she was grinding her teeth together in impotent rage. It doesn't matter— she doesn't matter, she told herself firmly as she followed quickly in the Berkely-Smiths' footsteps, fearing she would be late. She was just behind them as they began to walk up the long, winding path to the church door and quite able to hear their conversation, spoken as it was in a loud, cultured drawl. 'But, darling,' Sharon's mother was saying as her ridiculously flowered hat bobbed precariously on the back of her obviously dyed chestnut hair, 'what would give the girl the idea she could come to the wedding if she's just one of the caterers?'

'I don't know.' Sharon's voice was irritated and tight. 'But that is exactly what she is, I can assure you. One of Reece's temporary employees. But you know how some of these people are, Mummy…' And somehow, instantly, Miriam knew that Sharon was aware of her just behind them. 'Give them an inch and they take a mile. Reece was complaining about it only the other day.'

'Well, something ought to be done…'

As they disappeared into the small, arched porch of the old medieval church Miriam stood stock-still on the path, her heart pounding with the shock of the bitterly barbed words. How could people be like that? She stared after them into the shadowed porch beyond which the lighted church glowed brightly. So spiteful, so malicious?

She glanced down at her best coat, which had cost her far more than she had been able to afford a few months before. OK, so it wasn't an exclusive with a four-number price-tag, but it wasn't exactly a bit of rag either.

She shut her eyes tightly and then set her mouth in a grim line as hot rage replaced the hurt and surprise. And she didn't believe for a moment that Reece would have discussed her with Sharon, although that was what the blonde girl had been insinuating. He wouldn't. He just wouldn't. Would he? She bit her lip hard and then gathered all her courage around her as she marched into the cold church.

'Bride or groom?' A young, bright-eyed usher was at her side instantly as he handed her an order of service.