Merrin swallowed, thinking of how her day had cost her parents a pretty penny and had come to nothing. Her stomach bunched and she felt the throb of sorrow in her chest.
The church doors were flung open and the breath caught in her throat, but no, there was no sign of the Reverend Pimm with an anxious look and a nervous stutter, no hurried ushering of the bridal party into the vestry. Instead, the dizzy notes of ‘At Last’ floated from the church and Ruby, with an air of calm, confidence and poise, walked on her dad’s arm into the building where her beloved waited for her at the end of the aisle.
It was the first time Merrin had walked up an aisle since her wedding rehearsal. Her limbs felt leaden and her seat so very far away. There were the usual smiles and winks of appreciation for the stunning bride, and nods of congratulation for her dad, but it was obvious by the hushed whispers behind cupped palms and the surreptitious glances and narrow-eyed expressions of pity cast in her direction that the assembled, silently or otherwise, compared the moment to the last time a Kellow girl had donned a wedding dress and trundled up the hill to St Michael’s. Even Reverend Pimm held her with a lingering stare that sent a spread of crimson embarrassment over her neck.
Squeezing into the pew next to Miguel, she arranged her skirt over her knees. The hurt was tangible, as was the sad and humiliating hum that rang in her ears, but there was something else: anger. As her limbs shook, she felt angry that she had been led to that point outside the church only to be so humiliated by Digby’s absence. Who did he think he was that made it okay to treat her like that? Who did his mother think she was, able to offer such calm advice? Trust me, Merrin, go home, dear. Go home to your family . . . How dare they!
Merrin closed her eyes and tried to get a grip. Her dad sidled into position next to his wife, who passed him a pressed handkerchief, with which he immediately dabbed his eyes and blew his nose.
The Reverend Pimm did a fine job, setting the right tone for the ceremony that was amusingly anecdotal and not too solemn.
When he asked: ‘If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage you should declare it now . . .’ The congregation concentrated on his words before he comically looked skyward and mouthed his thanks at the lack of response. This drew laughter from everyone except Merrin, her dad, who mumbled a response using words that were usually reserved for outside of church, and Ruby, who looked back over her shoulder and fixed her with a look that bordered on fury.
Merrin’s jaw tensed, as she sensed every pair of eyes behind her homing in on her back. She concentrated on keeping her head held high, realising that no matter how hard she tried to pretend, how much she perfected her sweet laugh of indifference, this was how it would always be: she was the jilted girl of Port Charles, and no matter what her future held, she doubted she would ever be able to leave it behind her. In this church and this village, it seemed others were loath to forget or let her move forward. It was a bitter blow. She looked at the dark-tiled floor and wished she could drop right through it.
Darkness was falling as Merrin realised she had not managed to secure a minute alone with her sister during the whole exhausting day, although her parents had, throughout the celebrations, felt the need to check on her constantly.
‘If you are finding things tricky, my little love, no one would think any less of you for slipping away . . .’ her mum had whispered in her ear as they queued for the ladies.
‘I’m fine, Mum, really.’
And, ‘Merrin, don’t feel sad today, darling, you will have your day. I am sure of it . . .’ Her dad had squeezed her arm when she bumped into him at the buffet table.
‘I don’t need “my day”， Dad! God, I’m fine!’
‘’Course you are, my little one.’ Maddeningly, he had ruffled her hair.
Judging from the wide smiles on their faces at the end of the evening, Ruby and Jarvis had, thankfully, had the day they wanted. As Merrin and Bella prepared to leave, the newly-weds were falling against each other on the dance floor at the back of the pub and had barely noticed any of their guests exiting.
‘Look at her face.’ Bella leant on her as the two watched the slow dance. ‘Reckon she’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.’
‘Me too.’
‘I’m glad she’s stopped punching things; reckon we’ve got Jarvis to thank for that.’
‘Good old Jarv.’ Merrin knew he was the kindest soul.
‘Yep, good old Jarv,’ Bella concurred. ‘Seeing as he’s now married your sister when he was once so sweet on you, is it weird at all?’
‘Is what weird?’ Miguel bounded over and overheard the tail end of the conversation.
‘Having a sister who is a married woman!’ Bella replied as quick as a flash and rubbed briskly under her nose with her finger.
Miguel grabbed Merrin’s hand and twirled her around, before pulling her in for a kiss.
‘Oh, get a room, you two!’ Bella mimed retching.
‘We have got a room, but it’s got two single beds in it and a selection of dolls staring at us, not to mention Ben within five feet with an axe close to hand . . .’ Miguel pulled a face.
‘Half your luck, I share a room with a fidgety baby who snores like a drunk and who wakes up demanding food every couple of hours!’
‘Sounds a lot like Miguel.’ Merrin laughed, her eyes fixed on the newly-weds, as Miguel went to grab his jacket so they could leave. ‘And no, Bells, don’t be so bloody stupid! Me and Jarv were just kids; I never had feelings for him and I don’t want it mentioned again. But then there’s lots I don’t want mentioning, which seems like too much to ask in Port bloody Charles!’
Bella stared at her, as if a little taken aback and a whole lot lost for words. This kind of outburst was rare for her and Merrin felt sapped by it, as if the emotionally tiring day was finally catching up with her.
Bella stepped forward and placed her hand on her arm. ‘Are you all right, my love?’
‘God! For the last time today! I’m fine! Absolutely fine!’
Bella leant in and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re not the only one who’s found today tough. I thought Luuk and I might get married, and look how that’s turned out. I miss him.’ She bit her bottom lip and swiped the tears that filled her eyes. ‘But life goes on, Merry, it has to.’
‘It does, my darlin’。’ She regretted snapping at her wonderful friend, who had her own shit to deal with. ‘And for what it’s worth, if the Flying Dutchman doesn’t know how fabulous you are, then he isn’t worth losing a moment’s sleep over. Love you.’
‘I know. Love you too.’ Bella wiped the remainder of her lipstick from her mouth on the back of her hand.
Merrin turned on her heel, keen to get some fresh air. It had been a pretty wedding, a fabulous day and Ruby was in her element, but in truth she couldn’t wait to get in the car and drive back to Thornbury, away from the Port Charles gossip, the sharp winds that blew inland, her family’s well-meaning, challenging stares and Miguel’s apparent inability to pace his booze intake. His overindulgence had, according to reports from her dad and Robin, led to him vomiting over the harbour wall on his way home from the Old Boat Shed the previous night. She cringed at this image of him. It was not the Miguel she knew and loved, preferring the sedate version of him who turned up to work every day looking sharp.