Ruby held her gaze as the band got closer and the music got louder. Merrin took the words and sewed them beneath her heart. They were forgiveness for that terrible row that lived in her memory and the conversation that had threatened to damage them. No matter how far away Merrin might stray, she was bound to this woman and this place: a Kellow.
Finding her way back to Miguel, she slipped her hand inside his again. It might have been her imagination, but Merrin felt sure that as the noisy, dancing troupe made their way past the slipway, along Fore Street and up towards the church, all eyes were on her sister before they sought her out, as if she were a separate spectacle entirely. Miguel’s hand was where she found comfort, holding it tightly as they meandered slowly, waving to tourists and the friends and residents of Port Charles who were not already inside the church.
Don’t be stupid, Merrin, no one cares. No one is thinking about that day . . . She swallowed to try and relieve her dry mouth, watching as Miguel moved ahead in the churchyard, turning to wave at her as he and the rest of the group disappeared inside St Michael’s. She felt the absence of him and smiled at Bella.
‘You okay, doll?’ her friend asked.
‘Yep.’ Her voice was steady; her legs, however, shook.
The jazz band played their encore and peeled off to a waiting van, revelling in their triumph. She, Bella, Ruby and her dad hung back and formed a neat square on the patch of tarmac outside of the main church door.
‘Nearly off!’ Her dad raised Ruby’s fingers and kissed them. ‘You look smashing, and God knows I’m fond of Jarvis. This is a wonderful day for an old dad to see.’
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.