Our Kind of Cruelty

‘Oh, we’re all in the media, in various ghastly forms.’ James laughed, although I could tell he was really pleased with the fact.

‘It’s lovely that you came,’ Louise said. ‘I always think it’s so nice when people remain friends, even after tricky break-ups.’

I looked at her, not entirely sure what she was talking about.

‘Have you met Angus?’ James asked.

‘No, not yet.’ I said.

‘Oh, he’s a top bloke. We went to Dorset with them at Easter and it was a real laugh.’

I looked between the smiling faces and wondered what they were doing. The thought even occurred to me that V had set this up as well. But I couldn’t contemplate that because my mind felt mugged by the thought of Dorset and what that meant. Of the thought of V anywhere other than the house in Kensington, work or Steeple House. It made me feel quite shaky.

‘We should get going,’ I said, looking at my watch again.

‘Oh, there’s hours yet,’ James said. ‘Brides are always late. Louise kept me waiting twenty minutes; I began to think she wasn’t coming.’

Everyone laughed except me. ‘No, there’s only twenty-five minutes. I’m going to get going.’

I waited a few seconds but nobody moved, so I turned and walked away. ‘See you there,’ I heard Louise calling after me.

There were quite a few people at the chapel by the time I arrived, which meant James was wrong and I was right. I told the young boy at the door I was with the bride and was directed to the left-hand side of the chapel, where I sat about five rows back, but near the aisle, so V could see me when she came in. Angus was standing near the front, chatting to another man with a shock of ginger hair. He looked different in the flesh, slightly shorter than I remembered from my brief glimpse of him getting out of the taxi. And maybe also slightly slimmer. He hadn’t made much of an effort with his hair, which still looked too long, and there was a hint of stubble on his face, making him look absurd on his wedding day. He rubbed his hands over his chin and even though he was smiling, his eyes looked nervous.

I thought he seemed unsure as to whether or not V was coming. It was entirely possible they had had a massive row as the day grew closer and she realised what she was doing. It occurred to me that maybe she wanted me to stop the wedding in some way. Maybe I was meant to stand up at that moment when the vicar asks if anyone present knows of any lawful impediment to the marriage. I sat very still for a while, considering this, but in the end I concluded this could not be what was expected of me. V hated scenes; she would especially hate one in front of all her family and friends. No, she had brought me here to bear witness and my role in the destruction of this marriage would be much more subtle.

By the time I looked up the chapel had filled to such an extent that people were standing at the back and the man sitting next to me had his legs pressed right up against mine. There was a clatter of heels on the floor and I turned and saw Suzi rushing in. She was beaming, her face set in an expression of happiness which didn’t look entirely real, especially sitting as it was underneath a large pale yellow hat which did nothing for her complexion. Her dress was the same pale yellow and as she wafted down the aisle I thought she looked like a giant slab of cheese. She caught my eye as she passed; her smile faltered momentarily, but then intensified. She too, I realised, wanted me to bear witness.

The music started and the room fell silent. I could feel V in the entrance to the church, like a wire was attached between us, strengthening and tightening. We all stood and I could see from the rapt expression on Angus’s face that she was beginning her slow walk. I held myself very still, knowing I could move my head and see V in an approximation of what she would wear to our wedding, because of course she would save the best dress for me.

The people opposite were all smiling and exclaiming and there wasn’t much time left, so I turned my head, just at the moment she came level with our pew. She glanced up and our eyes locked for a moment, before she looked away. But I saw the jolt in her. I knew then what it had cost her to put me through this and I wanted in some way to let her know I was OK and I understood.

Her dress was made of very old lace, draped over a fitted, shimmering gown which flowed around her body like water. It glistened as she moved, revealing and yet hiding her perfect body in tantalising fashion. It was scooped out at the back, revealing her spine and the muscles which held her together, her pale brown flesh a reminder of all the times I had held her. Her hair flowed in loose ringlets, fixed in places by small white flowers. She radiated, purely and simply, and my heart reached out to her as she passed, screaming and weeping in my chest.

I barely heard the service as my blood was rushing through my ears. I stood and sat at the right times and sang the hymns, although I couldn’t tell you what they were now. I listened to V’s best friend Alice and Angus’s brother read extracts about love from books I didn’t recognise. And I tried to avoid looking at V and Angus standing side by side, the quick smiles they gave each other, or the note of joy in his voice when he said, ‘I do.’

The air felt thin and my vision was starting to become pitted, almost as if I was losing sight of something. It had also become unbearably hot in the little chapel and I doubted there was enough air for the number of people there. Finally V and Angus went to sign the register and the people next to me began to chat in a low murmur. I rolled the wedding service sheet into a cylinder, my hands tight against the card. And for the first time, maybe ever, I felt a rising anger for V. This had been a stupid idea of hers; it went above and beyond what had been needed. This was a binding contract; it was going to take pain and time to extricate herself from it and I still wasn’t even clear what she expected of me. I looked then at her forehead as she sat in the seat just vacated by Angus, as she steadily signed her name, and I wondered again what was going on beneath her skin, inside her skull.

If I had been standing close enough I think I might have taken the heavy golden cross from the altar and smashed it against her head, in order to delve about in the red mess of her brain to try and understand what she meant by it all.

It was a relief to emerge into the bright sunlight and stand back a bit while everyone shouted and cheered and threw their confetti high into the sky, like colourful acid rain. The air was filled with excited chatter and noise and children ran between the gravestones. But I felt tired and weak and could feel a pain building between my shoulder blades, a reminder of the punishing run I’d done that morning.

A woman had set a tripod up in front of the doors and people were being summonsed and posed, until only V and Angus were left. He drew her towards him, his arm encircling her waist, and she raised her head upwards to meet him and they kissed, slowly, like they had done in the kitchen the night I’d watched from the shadows. I readied myself for movement, waiting for her hand to reach for her bird, but as I had the thought I realised she wasn’t wearing any jewellery round her neck, nothing at all. Only small pearls on her lobes. My breathing quickened as I tried to work out this new sign, but for the moment nothing came to me.

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