only or we go back inside.’
Edie couldn’t be more grateful for Stanley’s sort of muck raking.
‘Seems Charlotte found Jack having some how’s your father, or snogging or something, with another guest. Unbelievable,’ the woman said. ‘Can you believe it? On your wedding day? To be carrying on with another woman?’
‘Huh,’ Edie said, trying to make an incredulous-yet-also-disinterested face. ‘Wow.’ She shook her head.
The woman shifted the baby to her other Boden trouser-clad hip.
‘… Did you not know?’
Shit.
‘Uh, I knew … something had happened. I didn’t know exactly what,’ Edie said, quickly. Think. Think of something to say to keep her occupied. ‘Where are they now?’ Edie said, mindlessly.
‘Charlotte left with her parents. You know her parents? They have the big white house over on the other side of the green.’
‘Oh, right. Yes.’
‘Poor, poor thing. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.’
‘No, dreadful.’
The woman was contemplating Edie more carefully now. She was wondering why she was really stood outside the hotel before six in the morning, looking like a bedraggled Walk of Shamer, and feigning improbably little knowledge of the previous night’s earthquake.
‘How do you know Jack and Charlotte?’ she said hesitantly, asking for confirmation of a hunch.
‘I work with them.’
There followed an acutely uncomfortable few seconds where the woman’s face became a taut mask of revelation. It was as if she’d seen a WANTED poster over Edie’s shoulder.
A minicab finally swept up the drive and Edie could’ve thrown herself arms wide across the windscreen in exultant relief.
‘Bye!’ she said to the woman, who was staring dully at her, not noticing Stanley was now eating gobfuls of soil.
The driver helped Edie haul her case into the boot and she hopped into the back like a scalded flea, in case the woman started screeching that the man from Blueline Taxis was unwittingly aiding and abetting a dangerous felon.
As the car turned through near-empty roads, Edie couldn’t resist looking at her phone. If it had been hard for her father to grasp why they pulled duck-face selfies, she imagined explaining to him why, at a time like this, she would investigate things that were guaranteed to violently upset her. Because the big online glass palace full of funhouse mirrors was where half your reputation lived, now.
Edie had a flurry of a dozen or so Facebook messages. She opened them, nauseous with foreboding. They were distant acquaintances, the social media version of phishing scams – feigned concern and closeness, to gather information. Bloody hell, how shameless.
Long time no speak! Heard something kicked off at the wedding yesterday. Are you OK? Laura x
It’s been a while, hope all is good! And WOW: is what people are saying true? What happened, Edie? Hope everything is still going well at your company. I’ve had a second child since we last spoke! Best wishes, Kate
Hi. Do you know what people at Ad Hoc are saying? I felt I had to tell you … don’t know whether it’s true. Terry PS we worked together from 2008-9
Edie gulped and hammered delete-delete-delete, only skimming the first few lines of each. Long time no – DELETE.
She had messages (3) in ‘Other,’ i.e., from people who weren’t in her friends list. She guessed they’d be more savage. U R A RANSID FIRECROTCH TART was all that ‘Spencer’ had to say. She deleted and blocked.
She also deleted and blocked a total stranger called Rebecca who used lots of words that couldn’t be published in a family newspaper. Edie wasn’t upset by the language, the ferocity behind it was frightening. As if she actually would beat seven bells out of Edie if she could only get her hands on her.
Speaking of which …
Edie. This is Lucie, I am Charlotte’s chief bridesmaid and best friend since our university days. Since you are too gutless to face me and got your ridiculous friend Lewis involved in your devious games (that’s right, I worked out you swapped rooms with him, and I hope you enjoyed the sign I left on your door ‘Please Do Not Disturb I’M SHAGGING SOMEONE’S HUSBAND’), I am forced to tell you here what kind of person you are. It’s no exaggeration to say you’re the worst person I’ve ever met or heard about. It’s one thing to try to steal someone else’s man but to DO IT ON THEIR LITERAL WEDDING DAY beggars belief. I hope you realise you have ruined a woman’s life and wasted countless thousands on venue hire, catering and transport. I can’t imagine she will want to keep the photographs either. Will you pay her back? Methinks not.
I know Jack to be a good guy despite this mistake and don’t doubt for a second you’ve been offering it to him on a plate, trying to break them up.
I hope you are happy now you’ve got your wish but you won’t be because terrible people never are.
Lucie Maguire
She’d learned Edie’s name, at least, and it sounded as though Louis got a nice memento.
The activity overall was an odd blend of frenzy of attention and rejection: Edie could see her friend numbers had dipped, yet a lot of people wanted to talk to her – another couple of notifications pinged as she browsed. She clicked through, stomach churning, to Charlotte’s Facebook page and saw, ‘This Link May Be Broken’. This link is very broken. She didn’t blame Charlotte for coming off entirely. In fact, that was one small mark of respect she could offer, and do the same.
Edie deactivated her own page. Why provide a toxic waste dump site.
‘You’re off early,’ said the taxi driver.
‘Yes,’ Edie said, blearily and blankly. ‘Lots of work on.’
‘The trains won’t start for a while yet.’
‘Oh. I best get a coffee then.’
‘The café might not be open for a bit either.’
‘Oh. Yeah.’
Edie spent the next few hours waiting for a connection to Leeds, hiding in the loos for fear of running into other wedding guests, then staring unseeing out of grimy windows, feeling a queasy mix of listless and terror-struck. This wasn’t, she accepted, one of life’s wrinkles. This was one of those jolt-crashes that nearly threw you out of the dodgem car. She felt so morally unclean, it was like she needed a whole-body blood transfusion.
She could call Hannah. But she couldn’t face it, not yet. Hannah
