This is for the family, she reminded herself as panic threatened to engulf her. And it’s only temporary.
In a year’s time her life would have taken on a whole new shape. She was doing this for all the right reasons and once she and Xavier were divorced, she’d be free to fall in love and get married for real.
With that thought in mind, she told Xavier goodbye and hung up.
Trying to ignore the now almost overwhelming wave of nerves, she turned off all the lights in the cafe, hid a yawn behind her hand and trudged up the narrow staircase to the flat, first to check that her mother didn’t need anything, then to spend the next hour or so planning how best to kick-start the beginning of her brand-new life.
3
SCRABBLE – CHOOSE YOUR WORDS CAREFULLY.
Their wedding day was glorious. At least the weather was, with the sun pouring in on them through the large picture windows of the register office as they stood at the desk reciting the lines they were asked to say.
The huge room, with its rows of chairs facing the desk, was eerily empty except for Xavier and Soli, the registrar, Xavier’s friend, Russell – the only friend he’d confided in and who had drawn up the contracts in his other role as a solicitor – and one other witness, who was a complete stranger to them all. Xavier had approached him outside on the street, pretending that their second witness had been delayed in traffic, and offered him a wad of cash for half an hour of his time.
Glancing around the room, he remembered all too well the last time he’d been in a place like this as echoes of a clawing sense of shame and dread pricked at his skin. He’d promised himself he’d never set foot in a register office again and hadn’t attended a wedding since his own disastrous debacle. He’d actually intended to avoid them for the rest of his life, if at all possible.
But he hadn’t counted on his Aunt Faith’s iron-like will.
So here he was again.
At least this time the bride had turned up and actually married him.
Well, you got what you wanted, Aunty. I hope you’re happy now.
Soli, to her credit, didn’t say a thing about the lack of guests or the stranger signing the marriage register beneath her name. In fact, she’d seemed more than happy to let him deal with all the arrangements and go along with whatever he’d asked her to do. She’d told him it had meant she’d been able to focus fully on making the necessary arrangements for her family and the cafe before she came to live with him. Apparently, her sister was off to Oxford over the summer to earn some extra “unexpected expenses” cash at a live-in job she’d found there before her first year began and her mother now had a full-time carer staying in the flat with her. All thanks to his money.
Not that he resented it. It meant he was able to achieve exactly what he wanted, after all.
In his experience, money always smoothed the way. It was the only thing he could ever really rely on.
‘Congratulations,’ the registrar said to the two of them once the ceremony had come to a close. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the lack of guests or the sombreness of the occasion, but Xavier guessed she must have seen it all in the course of her duties.
‘Thank you,’ he said, giving her a nod of gratitude.
‘Yes, it was a lovely service,’ Soli added with a barely discernible quaver in her voice.
He glanced at her, wondering whether she was having a moment of regret, but she just smiled back at him as if nothing in the world was wrong. He appreciated her professionalism.
He’d not really looked at what she was wearing when they’d met in the lobby only minutes before their slot because the registrar had come straight over to introduce herself then whisked them straight in, but as he surveyed Soli now he realised she’d made a real effort with her appearance today.
Her wild curls had been tamed into an elegant up do and she’d put on more make-up than he’d previously seen her wear, which accentuated her big bright eyes and full, rosebud mouth.
The simple cream-coloured sheath dress she wore exposed her slim, toned arms and flowed over her curves, drawing his gaze to the tantalising swell of her breasts under the thin fabric.
Hoping she’d assume he was looking at the small posy of flowers she clutched in front of her, he cleared his throat and raised his eyes to give her a tight smile.
Yes, she definitely looked the part. She was a very attractive woman and no one would find it strange that he’d chosen to marry her. At least on the surface. As long as she kept her mouth shut about the terms of the deal they’d worked out, his secret would be safe.
Hopefully there wouldn’t be many opportunities for their charade to be discovered anyway. He’d asked her to be ready to attend functions with him, but he wasn’t actually intending to take her along to many. Just one or two, so it didn’t look odd if anyone checked up on them.
He’d already alerted his great-aunt’s solicitor to the fact he was getting married and had been told to expect spot checks in the next few months, just to satisfy her conditions. After a year the title deeds to the house would pass into his name.
Then he’d be free to live his life as he chose again.
One year wasn’t too long a time to maintain this farce. He could manage it.
‘Well, Mrs McQueen, now that’s over, shall we get out of here?’ he suggested once the registrar had departed, more than ready to leave the place now.
