Undertaking Love Page 0,38
sound of a car’s engine, and watched in fascinated horror as the bride’s Rolls-Royce arrived to complete the tableau. Its white ribbons fluttered in the breeze as it came to rest nose-to-nose with the hearse.
Marla was going to literally kill Gabriel Ryan for this.
She met his eyes across the crowd, and even from this distance she could see her own fury reflected at her.
The man had some nerve.
The bride’s chauffeur opened her door and helped her step out onto the pavement, a celebratory confection in white. Marla could hardly bear to watch as her expression slipped from joy, to confusion, to shock, before finally settling on horror as she stared at the floral ‘husband’ tribute that lay in the hearse next to Charlie’s coffin.
For a few seconds, everyone stood motionless, as if someone had turned off the music in a game of musical statues.
The sunbeams that bounced off the crystals on the bodice of the bride’s dress were reflected by the tears that shimmered on her cheeks as she met Eleanor’s eyes.
Charlie’s widow was the first to make a move. She braced her bird-slender shoulders in her neat black suit and walked slowly to stand in front of the bride. She unsnapped her handbag and pulled out a starched white handkerchief.
‘Dry your eyes, pet. You don’t want to greet your new husband like that.’
The bride took the handkerchief and dabbed her cheeks.
‘Thank you. I’m so sorry about … about your husband.’
Eleanor nodded, and reached out to touch the bride’s bouquet of blood-red roses.
‘Roses were Charlie’s favourite. He was never much of a gardener mind, but he loved roses.’
The bride eased a stem from the bouquet and held it out to Eleanor, who accepted it with far away eyes.
‘It rained on our wedding day, you know. Absolutely poured down. Charlie’s mother said it was a bad omen, but then she always was a sour old crow.’
The bride laughed gently through her tears.
‘She was wrong, though,’ Eleanor said. ‘The day I married Charlie he held an umbrella over my head to keep me safe, and he carried on doing that for sixty-two years.’
She reached out and placed her hands over the bride’s clasped ones.
‘Go on now pet, you’ve kept that young man of yours waiting long enough.’
Inside the chapel a little while later, the bride’s eyes shone with happier tears as she surprised her new husband with a new line in their chosen wedding vows.
‘I’ll always be your umbrella on the rainy days.’
Chapter Seventeen
Later that afternoon, Marla hoovered the aisle, aware that they’d avoided disaster only by the very thinnest skin of their teeth. It could very easily have gone differently, and ruined both the bride’s and the widow’s most important days. Gabe had obviously played it fast and loose on purpose to ram home his point. He held the cards. He could play God and rain havoc down on her head any time he chose, so if she had any sense she would shut up and put up.
The already spotless carpet bordered on baldness as she ruminated on what she should have done, what she should have said. Marla was an expert at creating the perfect put-down with the benefit of hindsight, but she wished she could wind back the clock and deliver the punch lines at the time. Her chest flamed with anger as she leaned on the vacuum cleaner and glared at the funeral parlour. Something inside her snapped, and she shoved the vacuum aside loudly enough to make Bluey open one eye and check on the situation. Maybe she couldn’t turn back time, but she could do the next best thing – she could go over there right now and deliver her thoughts in person.
Marla glanced through the window to check the funeral parlour was empty of customers and then flung the door open, heartened immeasurably by the look of undisguised horror on the receptionist’s face.
‘Gabriel. Now. And don’t try telling me he isn’t here, because I know damn well that he is.’
She stared pointedly at Melanie, who flushed a dull shade of puce and was clearly in the grip of a desperate desire to come up with an equally pithy reply. She was saved the bother by Gabe, who stalked into reception with a face like thunder.
‘I take it you’ve come to apologise.’ Icicles dripped from his every word. A tiny smug smile crept over Melanie’s lips, and Marla’s hand itched to wipe it off.
‘Excuse me?’
Was he seriously going to attempt to foist the blame for today’s