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The Perfect Escape: Romantic short stories to relax with
Because however much she told herself that this was what she had always dreamed of, and that it was going to be the most perfect day of her life, she couldn’t help the niggling feeling in the back of her mind that something was missing. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she had hardly seen Barry in the weeks leading up to the wedding – he blamed work commitments as a reason for not getting more involved in the preparations – or the fact that she was beginning to feel a stranger at her own party. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster that she couldn’t get off. She would have confided in Mel about it, but until today, she hadn’t seen Mel for weeks. Mel, too, seemed to always be busy when Claire wanted to talk.
Claire shook her head in a determined fashion, as the photographer pointed her and Mel towards the church door for one last photo. She was being daft. All brides were nervous. It was only natural.
‘You look green,’ said Mel digging her in the ribs. ‘You’re not having second thoughts are you?’
‘Course not,’ said Claire, more forcefully then she felt.
‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ said Mel. ‘But don’t mind me.’
‘Shut up,’ said Claire, grimacing at the photographer.
‘Heard from Steve again?’ said Mel with a grin.
‘No,’ said Claire.
‘And you didn’t tell Barry about seeing him?’ said Mel.
‘No,’ said Claire.
‘What a way to start a marriage,’ said Mel. ‘It’s nice to know both of you have secrets from one another.’
‘What do you mean, both of us?’
‘Did I say both of you? I meant you of course,’ said Mel. ‘Isn’t it time we got in the church?’
Claire couldn’t help wondering what Mel meant as she walked down the aisle to the Trumpet Voluntary. God, what a cliché! Shame Barry’s mum couldn’t have chosen something a little bit more interesting. Steve would probably have had her stepping down to Born to be Wild or something.
She reached Barry, at last, and Dad handed her over to him. They smiled shyly at each other, and Claire took a deep breath. She was doing the right thing. This was just what she had always dreamed of.
Claire was in a happy daze as the service started, and before she knew it, the all-important moment arrived. It was time to make her vows, and become a married woman.
‘Is there any reason why these two should not be joined in matrimony?’ the vicar was saying in sonorous tones, and everyone was no doubt nodding and smiling as they always do at weddings, knowing no one is going to say anything, when—
‘Yes!’ The whole congregation turned to the back of the church. Claire turned last, reluctant to acknowledge the sound of a voice she knew, and trying to repress the singing in her heart as she heard him call her name.
‘Claire, you can’t marry Barry,’ Steve said, standing in his black leathers, bathed in sunlight, like a glorious vision, a modern day Sir Lancelot, come to take her away on his metal steed.
‘Why not?’ she asked.
‘Because he doesn’t love you,’ said Steve. ‘And I do.’
‘Of course he loves me,’ Claire felt she had to say it. ‘Don’t be daft.’
‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Steve. ‘He’s having an affair with your bridesmaid.’
‘He’s wha-at?’ Claire couldn’t take it in. It all fitted. Barry’s indifference. The fact that Mel had been so absent for the last few weeks.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ said Barry. ‘Of course I haven’t been having an affair.’
‘Yes, don’t be silly, Claire,’ said Mel. ‘Why would I do that to you?’
‘Nah, it’s true,’ Kerry’s voice piped up from the middle of the church. ‘The whole office knows about it.’
‘And I’m the last to know,’ said Claire with icy anger.
‘She doesn’t mean anything,’ gabbled Barry. ‘It’s you I love.’
‘You bastard,’ said Mel and took her bouquet and whacked Barry round the head with it. ‘If you must know, you were a lousy lay. You’re welcome to him, Claire.’ And she stormed off.
‘So it is true,’ Claire looked at Barry sadly. ‘How could you?’
‘I – er – but I love you,’ sputtered Barry.
‘You have a bloody funny way of showing it,’ said Claire. ‘Here take this. Your next girlfriend might want it.’ She flung her engagement ring in his face, lifted up the skirts of her dress, turned round and ran down the aisle into Steve’s arms.
‘Fancy coming for a ride?’ he said, with a mischievous twinkle.
‘But I haven’t got a helmet,’ she said.
‘Oh yes, you have,’ Steve said, leading her out of the church. ‘I kept your old one. It’s on the bike, along with your leathers and DMs.’
They ran hand in hand towards Steve’s sleek, silver machine. Steve climbed on board, and passed Claire her helmet. She hitched up her skirts, kicked off her high heels, replacing them with her much worn and loved DMs, put her leather jacket on over her dress, and climbed up behind him.
‘Aren’t you worried about the dress?’ said Steve.
‘Not in the slightest,’ said Claire. ‘I’m just picturing Barry’s mum’s face, when she realises what is happening to the very expensive Donna Karan dress she bought. Where are we going?’
‘Does it matter?’ asked Steve.
‘No,’ said Claire, leaning against him with a delicious sigh, ‘but round the world sounds like a good place to start.’
When I was getting married many moons ago, there was a point at which I felt like I had got on a rollercoaster which I couldn’t get off. I guess nearly every bride feels that pressure at some point. And I guess for all of us there is that slightly seductive thought about the one that got away. Suppose we’ve chosen the wrong route, and there’s someone waiting in the wings we should have gone for? Which is where this story comes in. I liked the idea of someone getting involved in a whirlwind romance because her fiancé seems to be offering the commitment her ex can’t. When in fact, she should be with the ex all along, and he’s offering her the chance to escape to something much better …
My latest book, Midsummer Magic is inspired by A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I love the mix of magic and mayhem in that play and it seemed perfect to play around with my putative lovers at midnight on Midsummer’s Eve in a magical setting in Cornwall. I had a lot of fun writing it, and hope you have as much reading it!
You can follow me on Twitter @JCCWilliams, and I’m also on Facebook as Julia Williams. My blog is http://maniacmum.blogspot.com and my website is http://juliawilliamsauthor.com.
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