Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [86]
A drink, God, what he wouldn't give for a drink right now. For that matter, what he wouldn't give for a bolt of lightning to crash through the ceiling and knock Florence - interfering old buzzard - out of her wheelchair.
Better still, Greg thought in desperation, one to flatten me.
Daniel Delancey was still filming. Turning to look at him Greg forced himself to speak.
`Switch it off,' he croaked. `Please.'
`I can't do that.' Danny sounded surprised. `This is the happiest day of Miranda's life.'
Miranda, no longer smiling, said, `I'm beginning to wonder. Is this the happiest day of my life, Greg?' Hei eyes bored into him. `Is it?'
All heads swivelled in unison towards the double door as they swung open. Desperately praying for some form - any form - of reprieve, Greg's head swivelled too.
A waitress in a black uniform and a white frilled aproi backed through the doors carrying a tray of glasses. Slit turned, balancing the tray against her heavily pregnan stomach, and surveyed the assembled guests.
`Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd have finished by now. was told-'
Chloe's voice broke off as she saw Greg.
Paralysed, Greg stared back at her. He was having an out of-body experience. This couldn't be happening to him.
`What's going on here?' Chloe's incredulous gaze flickered from the vicar to Miranda to Greg. `You can't marry him.'
Greg's legs began to tremble violently. He prayed he wouldn't wet himself.
Miranda's eyes were like saucers. Hotly she demanded, `Why can't I?'
Chloe put the tray down carefully on the table beside her. She smoothed her apron over her swollen stomach - Jesus, Greg wondered wildly, how had she got that big so soon? - and calmly shrugged.
`Because I'm his wife.'Chapter 36
`What the fuck is going on here?' marvelled Buzz Baxter as Greg stormed out of the ballroom and the place erupted once more. He nudged the tall girl who was crying with laughter next to him. `What's going on?'
Bev wiped her streaming eyes with a tissue.
`You're the journalist, can't you work it out?'
Greg's wife Chloe was by this time hugging the girl in the wedding dress. The noisy old biddy in the wheelchair was wearing the vicar's dog-collar. And the vicar, now minus his neck-gear, was busy cracking open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. When the girl next to him rushed up to join them, Buzz went along too.
Whooping at the sight of Bev, Miranda hurled her bouquet into the air. Automatically Bev caught it, then, horrified, let it drop, as if it were crawling with maggots.
`That's not fair,' she wailed. `You didn't get married! Now you've probably given me a thousand years' bad luck.'
`I almost got married,' said Miranda. `For a few seconds there, I thought he was going to go through with it.'
Chloe, her waitress's cap askew, nodded cheerfully at Buzz Baxter.
'Hi, Buzz, sorry you didn't get what you came for. I hope you didn't give Greg any money upfront.'
Buzz grinned; he'd always fancied Chloe. He liked her even more now he knew she had balls.
`You set the whole thing up.'
`Well, it was a joint effort.'
`Quite a lot of effort.'
`Worth it, though,' Chloe said with relish. `Worth every minute, just to see the look on his face.'
Buzz shook his head in admiration. Greg would never live this kind of public humiliation down.
`And if he'd gone ahead with the ceremony, you'd have-?'
'Made my entrance,' Chloe supplied, `at the crucial point.'
Tom Barrett, handing out glasses of champagne, said, `Pity he didn't, I was looking forward to that bit.' He cleared his throat and intoned solemnly, "`If anyone here present knows of any reason why this man and this woman should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, they should speak now…"'
He paused dramatically, and Chloe mimed bursting through the door. Brightly she explained, `That's where I would have come in.'
`Isn't he marvellous?' Florence patted