of fish,’ Holly says, licking her lips. ‘Your go, Anna.’
Anna climbs onto Holly’s knee and hangs out of the window, returning after a few seconds with more than wet lips.
‘OK, enough now. Seat belts back on,’ Jen says, trying not to think of how long it took to plait, curl and straighten three sets of hair, but quietly pleased their diversion has thrown the smug satnav. When it finally rallies and they arrive at the church, the bridal limousine has just beaten them into the car park.
‘Don’t worry,’ Ian grins, looking at Jen. ‘You took ages to get out of the wedding car. You needed a crane, if I remember.’
‘Cheeky sod,’ she replies. ‘You weren’t even there. You were in the church longing for your beautiful bride to appear. It was the hoops at the bottom of the dress, actually. They took some manoeuvring. But you’re right; Lisa won’t be jumping out of the car and into this horrible weather without a million umbrellas. Park up and we’ll sneak in ahead.’
Finally settled in their pew, Jen lifts her hand to Penny and Geri across the aisle, conscious that her windswept girls have accidentally sat on the bride’s side.
‘Why is Penny staring and who is that fat woman sitting next to her?’ Anna asks from under the brim of her hat.
‘She’s not fat, she’s pregnant, Anna. That’s Geri, Dan’s girlfriend. You’ve met her before. And keep your voice down, love.’
Her eight-year-old studies Geri for a few moments before turning back. ‘She’s not as handsome as Dan, but I like her hat. What colour will the baby be?’ she whispers.
‘A beautiful colour,’ Jen replies. She leans forward to study Holly who’s predictably sitting next to her dad and peering at his mobile. ‘Are you all right now? Feeling better?’
Despite the fishy shower, she thinks her middle daughter looks pale. The girls had a puking virus which lasted two days, but Holly was sick again after breakfast, or so she said. Jen dashed up to the bathroom, but the toilet had been flushed, the only sign of vomit being a large wet patch on the front of the pretty satin dress Holly didn’t like. She didn’t quite get her wish to sport trousers, preferably jeans, but the dress she’s wearing is far from the floaty creation Jen had wanted all three to wear.
‘Struggling with puberty, poor lamb,’ her mum says of Holly, but Jen wouldn’t know. When she was twelve, she’d just started at St Mark’s. She loved growing up and all that went with it, especially the attention from the A Team boys. ‘The honorary boy,’ Nick’s mum used to describe her. ‘Yeah, one with tits,’ Dan, Will or Nick would quietly snigger.
The sudden rich peal of Mendelssohn interrupts her fond memories. Ian rises and takes her hand. ‘Here we go, love. Got the tissues ready?’ he asks with a grin.
‘Cheeky sod,’ she replies, smiling. But she catches Holly’s slender arms as she stands. Not just the vomiting, she’s spider-thin too. The sick bug, of course, the virus.
Shaking her head, she turns to the doors. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Just a routine illness.
Surely?
Dan
Will throws back his champagne. ‘Rain’s stopped; everyone smiling. All’s well that ends well.’ He slaps Dan on the back. ‘I’ll get us a top-up. Not so bad, eh? This wedding malarkey. Mark my words, you’ll give in like the rest of us poor bloody …’ But abruptly he stops and turns around with a frown. ‘Was that …? Did you hear that?’
Dan turns too. Two women in work uniforms are pointing to the main hotel building, their faces aghast.
‘Oh my God, look! There’s someone at that window. Oh my God, quick, someone help! I think she’s going to jump!’ one of them shouts.
Snapping his head to the scene, Dan stares. What the fuck? What the hell? Dressed only in her underwear, Penny Taylor is standing on the window ledge, her pale body and buffeted blonde hair framed like Botticelli’s Venus. He gazes for a moment before adrenaline kicks in. Will is just gawping, clearly gobsmacked. Grabbing him by the shirtsleeve, Dan propels him towards the hotel door. ‘Will, move! Now, Will, go now. I’ll be right behind you.’
His body tingling with energy, but his mind strangely detached, Dan scans the scene. Lisa and Nick are turned away in a group with her dad and his parents, listening to the photographer’s instructions. Two of Jen’s kids are watching the newly-weds and not Penny, thank God. And Will’s jacket, he’s still holding it; the key card is there in the pocket. Grasping Geri on the way, he spins her to the window. ‘Look, it’s Penny,’ he says quietly. ‘Tell those bloody women to go in without making a fuss. Tell them everything’s in hand. I’m following Will.’
The grass squelchy under his feet, he sprints to the hotel, the thought of the A Team school relays stupidly popping into his head. As he bursts through the door, the lift closes on Will, so he opens the fire door and belts up the stairs two by two, the urgency pounding in his ears but his mind still clinical: the third floor, two doors down from theirs. He has the key. Catch up with Will. Tell him to be calm; warn Will not to lose it.
He fires through the exit, but Will is already there, thumping the door with his fist. ‘Penny? Answer the door. Answer the bloody door!’
Handing Will the key, Dan lifts his finger to his lips and shakes his head.
Will takes the card and with a trembling hand he swipes and swipes again. ‘It’s not working.’ He tries once more. ‘It’s not fucking working!’
Dan takes it from him. ‘Here, let me try.’
Fuck, Will is right. The key card doesn’t work. Time is the thing. He doesn’t want to alarm Penny, but she could jump. Fucking jump!
Staring at the woodwork, he remembers what his dad said about the sweet spot to bust open a door. Without thinking about it too deeply, he steps back, lifts his leg, and with as much momentum as he can muster, he drives the heel of his foot towards the lock. With a sickening noise the wood cracks and splinters. Kicking again, then again, the door ricochets open.
Time slows as he takes in the picture. The window is gaping, the curtains flapping in the breeze. But Penny is still there, thank God. Her narrow back towards them, she’s gazing at the trees, lightly swaying and humming a tune.
Dan lets out his breath. She’s sitting now; she’s sitting on the ledge. Though not looking at Will, he instinctively grabs his arm. ‘Easy, Will. Take it easy.’
Will clears his throat. ‘Penny? Pen? Are you coming in?’ he asks, moving slowly towards her.
Penny turns, surprise flashing on her face. ‘Oh, Will! I wanted to tell you something.’ Her forehead furrows, as though trying to remember.
His face pale and sweaty, Will’s voice is hoarse. His fear is palpable; Dan can feel it. ‘Just come in, Penny.’
‘In a minute, let me show you …’ Pushing down her skinny arms on the sill, she draws up her legs to stand.
Will
