Just arrived.
An instant later she replies:
Argh! Going as quick as we can. Anyway, you’re supposed to be late. It’s good luck. Have you still got your blue garter on?
Annalise was so obsessed by me wearing a blue garter that she brought along three different choices this morning. I’m sorry, what are garters all about? To be frank, I could really do without a length of tight elastic cutting off my leg circulation right now—but I promised her faithfully I’d keep it on.
Of course! Even though my leg will probably fall off. Nice surprise for Magnus on the wedding night.
I smile as I send the text. It’s cheering me up, having this stupid conversation. I put my phone down, have a drink of water, and take a deep breath. OK. I’m feeling better. The phone dings with a new text, and I pick it up to see what Annalise has replied—
But it’s from Sam Mobile.
For a few instants I can’t move. My stomach is moiling around as though I’m a teenager. Oh God. This is pathetic. It’s mortifying. I see the word Sam and I go to pieces.
Half of me wants to ignore it. What do I care what he’s got to say? Why should I give one iota of head space or time to him, when it’s my wedding day and I have other things to focus on?
But I know I’ll never get through the wedding with an unopened text burning a hole in my phone. I open it as calmly as I can, bearing in mind that my fingers can hardly function—and it’s a one-word Sam special.
Hi.
Hi? What’s that supposed to mean, for God’s sake?
Well, I’m not going to be rude. I’ll text back a similarly effusive response.
Hi.
A moment later there’s another ding:
This a good time?
What?
Is he for real? Or is he being sarcastic? Or—
Then I realize. Of course. He thinks I canceled the wedding. He doesn’t know. He has no idea.
And suddenly I see his text in a new light. He’s not making a point. He’s just saying hi.
I swallow hard, trying to work out what to put. Somehow I can’t bear to tell him what I’m doing. Not straight out.
Not really.
I’ll be brief, then. You were right and I was wrong.
I stare at his words, perplexed. Right about what? Slowly, I type:
What do you mean?
Almost immediately, his reply dings into the phone.
About Willow. You were right and I was wrong. I’m sorry I reacted badly. I didn’t want you to be right, but you were. I spoke to her.
What did you say?
Told her it was over, finito. Stop the emails or I’ll take out a stalking injunction.
He didn’t. I can’t believe it.
How did she react?
She was pretty shocked.
I bet.
There’s silence for a while. A fresh text from Annalise has arrived on my phone, but I don’t open it. I can’t bear to break the thread between Sam and me. I’m gripping my phone 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 phone 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 phone 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 come 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.