divorce.’
‘A quickie divorce – they got married in Vegas, home of the quickie divorce and yet, they are
still
married. A week before my wedding they are
still
married.’ Anna seemed to consider Liv’s offer of accessory to murder quite seriously, shrugged and went to the front door, pausing before she opened it to ask, ‘Where do you buy that much acid anyway and what about the enamel on the bath?’
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, try talking to him. I’ll leave you to it,’ she added, hurriedly, keen not to get caught in the middle of this particular moment. She let herself into the flat and then hovered behind the front door, standing on tiptoe so she could spy through the peephole, straining to hear.
‘I’m not talking to you, remember?’ Anna said, tightly, forcing herself not to look at Tom, because he looked sad and apologetic and like he needed a hug, just like his dog Napoleon did when he’d been caught out chewing his way through an antique chair leg. ‘I thought you might have gathered that from the way I tipped that cup of coffee on your head, slapped you hard around the face and walked out.’
‘I
did
get that,’ Tom said. ‘I’m just not sure exactly why.’
‘Er … already married to a stripper when you are about to marry me?’ Anna said, blocking his attempt to make it over the threshold and into the building by moving first to her right and then left. It was already dark outside, and it had begun to rain quite heavily, adding to Tom’s look of bedraggled remorse. Screwing her mouth into a tight knot, Anna resisted the urge to ask him in and make him a hot chocolate, and then curl up in bed and fall asleep on his chest, which right at that moment was what she wanted to do most in the world.
‘
You
said that it wasn’t as if I cheated on you,’ Tom reminded her, hesitantly. ‘You said it all happened eight years ago and that it doesn’t change anything now, and that you still love me and we can still get married.’ Smiling at her, he took her gently by the shoulders and manoeuvred them both inside, finally getting out of the rain. ‘When did that very sane and reasonable attitude to my very stupid and ridiculous mistake go out the window?’
Anna finally looked into his eyes – the rain had plastered his hair to head, and was running in rivulets down his cheeks. Without thinking, she pulled the sleeve of her sweater over her hand and wiped his face dry.
‘We are getting married in a week,’ Anna told him. ‘For the last year – for at least the last twenty-odd years – I’ve thought and dreamed and planned every last detail of getting married, and it’s going to happen in a week. And even if I can take discovering the fact that you’ve been married before to the wife that time forgot, I can’t take finding out that your amnesia about past spouses is going to trash every single one of those hopes and plans and dreams. And I’m not prepared to accept that it’s happened, not yet.’
‘But … Oh God, Anna, I know I’ve ruined everything. And I’m sorry, so sorry,’ Tom said. ‘But what else can I do? Surely you must see I’ve done everything I can think of? And in a few weeks it will all be sorted and we can get married right away – in the New Year – I promise you.’
Anna took a deep breath. ‘I’ve planned a Christmas wedding Tom, a
Christmas
wedding. My dream Christmas wedding, exactly like the one I first talked about the very last night that I spent with my mother when I was nine years old. You know, don’t you, how much this means to me, that I didn’t just pick this date out of thin air? You do get that, don’t you? I’ve booked reindeers, Tom! Reindeers!’
‘Anna,’ Tom said her name softly, pulling her into his chest in an embrace., her hot cheeks crushed against the wet of his jacket. He held her tightly against him until a little of the tension eased from her stiff, unyielding frame. ‘I do get it and you
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