Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [85]
For the first few moments, as the heavy doors swung shut behind them and he found himself being led up the central aisle by Fenn, Greg thought he must be in the wrong room.
He knew he couldn't be, because he was with Fenn. But where, in that case, were all the celebrities?
No Kylie, no Daisy Schofield, no stars of stage and screen… and what was more, not a Mick in sight.
Bewildered, Greg wondered why Fenn hadn't seemed to notice that something was seriously amiss. His confusion increased as he recognised Leila Monzani sitting two rows from the front. She was wearing a shocking-pink tube of a dress, and Doc Marten's.
And over there, in her wheelchair, was that old witch, Florence…
Greg's neck muscles had by this time assumed a life of their own; his head swivelled from side to side as he spotted first Bev, in a hat the size of a kitchen table, then Buzz, looking as bemused as himself. Towards the back of the room he recognised Danny Delancey, but the dozen or so other guests were all total strangers.
For Christ's sake, where's Miranda?
`Over here, please.' The vicar indicated to Fenn and Greg where he wished them to stand.
`You don't mind, do you?' murmured Fenn.
In a daze, Greg shook his head. The Micks had evidently let Fenn down. He needed a best man. Jesus, what was Leila Monzani thinking of, getting married in Doc Marten's?
Music flooded the room, making Greg jump. From hidden speakers poured the opening bars of the Wedding March. Next to him, a muscle twitched in Fenn's jaw as he turned in response to the sound of the double doors swishing open.
Greg turned too.
Miranda, all in white, stood framed in the doorway. Behind the veil, her dark eyes shone. Grinning broadly, she moved up the makeshift aisle towards him.
The music stopped.
Flinging out her arms, throwing them around Greg before he could react, Miranda cried, `Surprise!'
The icy trickle of anti-freeze seeped through Greg's veins. Around him, the room erupted with laughter and applause. He felt his heart thudding like a tom-tom in his chest. It was the nightmare to end all nightmares and he could barely breathe.
`I don't… I don't understand.'
Greg stammered the words out at last, understanding only too well but playing desperately for time.
`I love you. You love me.' Miranda's cheeks were flushed with elation. `It's what we both want, so why wait? I've never seen the point of long engagements. Oh darling, we're getting married… today! Right here, right now!'
Greg couldn't bear to look at her. Whichever way he turned, he saw something else he didn't want to see…
the vicar's benign, smiling face… Danny Delancey with a video camera, capturing every moment on film… Fenn Lomax searching in his pocket and pulling out two wedding rings…
Could there be an experience more excruciating than this?
Miranda, reaching for his hands, laughed and said, 'Darling, you're shaking like a leaf. Don't worry, I've thought of everything.' Leaning closer, she added triumphantly, `I smuggled your birth certificate out of your flat last week.'
The ironic thing was, he would have married her. Like a shot. But what was the average sentence for bigamy? He might love Miranda, but he couldn't face going to jail.
`Could we have some quiet, please?' The vicar raised his hands to the boisterous congregation and nodded genially at Greg. `If you're ready, maybe we can proceed.'
Greg's mouth opened and closed like a cod's. No words came out. He wondered about slumping to the ground and feigning unconsciousness.
`You are happy, I take it, for the ceremony to go ahead?' The vicar lifted bushy, enquiring eyebrows at him. Greg stared back in horror.
`Darling?' Anxiety creased Miranda's forehead. `Please say something. You're not going to turn me down, are you?'
Oh God, how could this be happening to him? How could he tell her?
Miranda's bottom lip began to tremble.
`Greg? What's wrong? Don't you want to marry me?' She would never forgive him. Never. Oh, shit, why did this have to happen to him?
`Well,' declared Florence, her throaty