We all rush to support this outpouring of love and commitment, yet scratch the surface, and you’ll find we feel more obliged than genuinely willing. There is always something better we could be doing with ourselves on a sunny Saturday afternoon than spending it sitting next to a dull stranger for a long, drawn-out dinner. Especially given that, in order to do so, we’ve spent money we don’t have, on an outfit we’ll wear only once, and on the cheapest present we could find on the very expensive John Lewis gift list.
I could quite literally feel the jealousies and insecurities oozing out of the people around me. No doubt there was someone in the pews who was still friends with the groom’s ex-girlfriend, and was battling their own conscience as to whether they should really be here. Then there would surely be the woman who had been dating her partner for way longer than she felt warranted a proposal, yet still there had been nothing. There would be the couple who were both looking longingly at the bride, both wanting her body, but for entirely different reasons, and then there would be the rest of the congregation, who’d be remembering the time when this was their day, their happy-ever-after, and wondering where it had all gone wrong.
But today there was someone who felt all this far more acutely than anyone else. Who suppressed the searing pain in her chest as the vicar pronounced Kate and James husband and wife, and who smiled sweetly as they kissed.
Adam reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze, as I swallowed the tears that were burning the back of my throat. One year ago, this was supposed to be our day, our happy-ever-after, and I knew exactly why it had all gone wrong.
I watched Pammie, a smile fixed on her face, as she played the perfect mother of the groom in her raspberry-pink satin dress and matching short-sleeved jacket. I wanted to see her pain, to know that watching her younger son get married was killing her, but the mask was rigid.
I wished I could disguise my own feelings, but they were too close to the surface, too raw. I cried as James and Kate walked back down the aisle together, jealous that their union was sealed, and scared for our futures.
If Kate had any concerns, she didn’t show them as she embraced Pammie warmly outside the church. ‘That was beautiful,’ Pammie cried. ‘You’re beautiful,’ she added, touching Kate’s cheek.
Kate smiled and hugged her again. ‘Let me introduce you to everyone,’ she said, taking Pammie by the hand and heading off in the direction of the biggest group there.
In that instant, I’d gone from seeing Kate as a kindred spirit, the only other person that could relate to me, to someone on the other side, her side, and I suddenly felt so desperately alone.
Adam spent the rest of the day smiling at me at all the right times, but whenever he could, he’d be as far away as possible. I clung onto Poppy, my social barrier, and used her to bat off any uncomfortable situations. Adam’s aunts and cousins came over to coo at her, and to ask if we’d set a new date for our wedding.
‘No, not yet,’ I said, on repeat. ‘Hopefully soon, but we’ve got our hands full at the moment.’
‘Aye, haven’t you just,’ replied lovely Linda, Pammie’s sister. ‘But fingers crossed that by then, we’ll know that Pammie’s in the clear. We’ll really have something to celebrate then.’
‘She was given the all clear months ago,’ I said, confused.
Linda grimaced, as if berating herself. ‘Sorry, I assumed you knew . . .’
‘Knew what?’
‘That it had come back again. I shouldn’t have said anything . . .’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ I laughed. So, she’d tried her luck and pulled off the same stunt to try and stop James and Kate’s wedding? I felt a warped sense of satisfaction that it wasn’t personal, but then I had to laugh at myself. How could anything she’d done not be personal?
I had to take my hat off to Kate, and even more so to James, for not allowing his mother to ruin their special day with her cruel lies. I felt touched, and, if I was honest with myself, a little envious, that James had stood up for Kate and ignored Pammie’s wicked attempt to derail their happiness. He’d made a stand against her; he’d done what Adam should have done months ago.
‘So, what’s she got this time?’ I asked Linda.
She looked a little taken aback. ‘It’s in her lungs.’
‘How long have they given her, then?’ I couldn’t stop myself.
‘They haven’t,’ she said tightly. ‘She’s having treatment, and we’ll have to see where we get to. If you’ll excuse me . . .’
‘Of course,’ I said, as I watched her walk away. Maybe it was me. Maybe Pammie wasn’t the problem. What if it was me? Or even worse, what if Pammie had made me believe that it was me?
I made my way over to Kate, who was being the consummate professional bride, making sure she got round everyone, thanking them all for their good wishes. I thought how funny it was that, as a guest, you don’t want to take up too much of the bride’s time, you feel that you’re keeping them from something or someone far more important. Yet she must feel constantly rebuffed, as she moves from one person to another, each of them telling her that they don’t want to hold her up. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she swung round, a big smile on her face.
‘You look stunning,’ I said, acutely aware that she’d probably heard it a thousand times already today, and it was beginning to wear thin.
‘Thanks,’ she said, flashing those perfect white teeth. ‘Is this little Poppy? Oh, she’s beautiful.’
Now that she was finally in front of me, I didn’t know what to say to her. How to articulate everything I needed her to know. Wasn’t it too late now, anyway?
‘Kate . . . I’m sorry I’ve not been in touch these past few months. I could have done a better job at welcoming you into the formidable Banks family.’
She laughed. ‘Don’t be silly, you’ve had more than enough on your plate and, besides, Pammie’s been great. I can’t tell you what a help she’s been, especially with my own folks being over in Ireland.’
I wasn’t aware that I was pulling a strange face but I must have been, as she said, ‘What? What’s up?’
‘Sorry, are we talking about the same woman?’ I laughed.
‘Um, yeah, I think so,’ she said, confused.
‘Pammie’s been great, has she?’ I asked. I could feel that I’d put her on guard.
‘Yeah, she has. I don’t know what I would have done without her, to be honest.’
Was this a joke? I’d imagined us arranging to meet up once she came back from honeymoon, to discuss what we were going to do about Pammie, how we were going to deal with her, together, as a team, but Kate was making it sound as if Pammie might as well be going with them.
‘What, she’s helped you, without incident?’ I asked. I couldn’t quite get my head around this.
‘Incident?’ she said. ‘I’m not sure I understand what you mean.’
‘Pammie’s helped you, genuinely helped you? Like, without judgement or comment? Without making you feel as if you were going mad?’
‘Oh, I know what you’re talking about!’ She laughed, as if she’d finally got it.
I felt myself breathe out. Thank God.
‘I honestly thought I was losing it,’ she said. ‘When I went to pick up my dress . . .’
I nodded encouragingly, spurring her on. ‘Yes?’
‘I offered my credit card, but the shop said it had already been paid for. I was like, “Er, no, I definitely need to pay”, but they wouldn’t have it. I felt like some kind of scammer when I left there with a ￡1,500 dress over my arm. I couldn’t work it out, but then when I called Pammie that afternoon, she told me it was a present from her. I honestly couldn’t believe it.’
Nor could I. I stood there open-mouthed as she went on.
‘We try and meet up every other Saturday morning, just for a coffee and a bit of brekkie. Why don’t you come along, if you have time? We know how busy you are.’
We? I couldn’t ever imagine using the word ‘we’ in a sentence about Pammie.
‘Does she ever say anything? About me, I mean?’
Kate looked perplexed. ‘In what way?’
‘Just anything. Do you talk about me? What does she say?’
‘Only that you’re doing so well with the baby. She loves Poppy.’
I nodded. ‘Great, well, give me a call once you’re back, and we can put something in the diary.’