‘Kian’s got something he wants to tell you,’ said Chris, and gave Kian a shove.
‘Chris didn’t pull that girl,’ admitted Kian. ‘It was me.’
‘You’re just saying that to cover up for him,’ said Lauren, dully. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘No, really,’ said Kian. ‘It was me. I told her my name was Chris because . . . well, I’m lying low for a while, put it like that. Not exactly . . . off the leash at the moment.’
A tiny glimmer of hope flickered in Lauren’s heart.
‘Sorry, mate,’ he went on. ‘I didn’t think it would cause problems. I mean, come on! How was I meant to know you’d come over?’ He gave Chris a side look. ‘Didn’t even know you’d got a key.’
‘Shut up, Kian,’ snarled Chris. ‘It’s not me you should be apologising to.’
‘Yeah, sorry, Lauren.’ Kian tried his winning smile, but neither Lauren nor Chris responded. ‘Look, you’ve obviously got some making up to do, so I’ll, er . . . I’ll . . .’
‘Shove off,’ supplied Lauren.
‘Yeah. I’ll . . . shove off. See yiz later.’ He turned on his heel and ambled off. He’d only gone a few steps when he turned round and shouted, ‘Still on for best man, then?’
Chris looked at Lauren, and she saw something weird in his eyes. Embarrassment, she decided. And probably he was annoyed with her for lamping him like that, and he was entitled to be, really.
‘Get bent, Kian,’ she yelled. He flicked a cheerful v-sign and carried on walking.
Chris didn’t move. For a moment, Lauren wasn’t sure what to say; you couldn’t just slam big emotions like that into reverse, and be all nicey-nicey again.
‘And is the wedding still on?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Is it?’
Lauren knew she should feel relieved, but somehow she didn’t. Something else had been dislodged from a dark part of her mind – was it the pissed-off expression in Chris’s eyes last night, when she’d asked him to come home with her, and he’d looked daggers at the thought of cutting his evening short? Was it that she’d never be able to enjoy the wedding now, knowing what trouble her mum was in? Or was it something else? Like, doubts?
Lauren stared at her feet, shocked at herself.
Chris sat down next to her, and fiddled with the sleeves of his hooded sweatshirt. Lauren loved that Gap sweatshirt. It made him look like a blond jock from The OC, or the clean-cut hero of some American teen film.
‘Loz, we need to talk,’ he said without looking at her, and as soon as he said it, she knew it wasn’t going to be good.
‘I know,’ she said, and took hold of his hand. OK, so Mum had told her not to tell anyone about the credit-card bills, but she had to tell Chris. They’d have to scale back on the plans, and he’d need to know why. It was only fair. ‘Listen, let me go first – it’s about the wedding.’
To her surprise, relief seemed to flood Chris’s face. ‘I’m so glad you said that. I’m so glad it’s not just me, Loz.’
‘What?’ she began, creasing her forehead, but he was gabbling on.
‘I think we’ve got rushed into it, you know? It’s not like I don’t love you because I do, well, as much as I know about it, but sometimes, specially lately, I’ve felt like it’s really the wedding you’re into, not getting married to me.’ He turned to face her, and to Lauren’s horror, she could see from the tightness in his face that he was serious. He meant what he was saying.
‘But you know that’s not . . .’
‘Isn’t it? You’re always going on about how it’s something you’ve dreamed about since you were little – well, you’ve only really known me since you were seventeen. It’s the first proper relationship for both of us. And the wedding hasn’t changed since we’ve been going out, has it? It’s still the same plans you’ve had for years – to be honest, I sometimes feel like you’re just slotting me into it, that anyone else would do.’
‘Chris, don’t say that.’
‘Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? Look, I’m not saying it’s your fault. I know my mum’s just the same – she’s been wanting to plan some kind of huge wedding to make up for her own, but, you know . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It makes me wonder if this is going to work. I mean, I don’t want a big do, but no one’s even asked me! If you want a big fairy-tale party, then just have one. But don’t let’s pretend it’s the same thing as getting married.’
‘What?’ Lauren felt blind-sided. ‘Are you saying you don’t want to get married?’ she asked, weakly. ‘But you asked me to marry you!’
‘I know,’ said Chris, miserably. ‘And it wasn’t like I didn’t want to at the time, but, you know, it was Christmas, and we were both a bit pissed, and I just got . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘A bit carried away, maybe. I didn’t think it would all start happening so fast.’
Lauren closed her eyes as his words sank in. It had seemed impossible that today could get any worse, but apparently not. ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘Oh my God.’
Seeing her shock, Chris started back-pedalling. ‘I do love you, Lauren, honestly . . .’ He grabbed her hand, but she pulled it away. ‘I’m twenty-three! You’re only twenty-two. We’ve only ever been on one holiday alone together and that was four days in Ibiza. Shit, are you crying?’ He leaned forward, and tried to see under her hands. ‘You are. Oh, Loz, please don’t. I hate seeing you cry.’
Lauren pushed him away.
‘Please don’t. I’m trying to be honest here,’ he pleaded. ‘I don’t want to let you down.’
‘How can you let me down any more than you are now?’ she sobbed, and Chris put his arms around her. She didn’t feel angry enough to push him away again.
‘Just now,’ Chris said softly, into her hair. ‘You really thought I’d slept with that girl, didn’t you?’
Lauren bridled at the accusation beneath his words. She knew exactly what he was saying. ‘And? What else was I meant to think? She told me you had, and your phone was turned off when I tried to call you last night.’
‘Well, I didn’t.’
‘Yeah, I know that now,’ she conceded, reluctantly.
‘But that’s what I mean – it doesn’t show a whole lot of trust in me,’ Chris went on, hurt. ‘If you could think that.’
That, thought Lauren, was a bit much. She sat up and glared at him. ‘And you think you’ve deserved it since you moved in with Kian?’ She counted on her fingers. ‘Out most nights, acting like you’re single, spending money we’re meant to be saving on beer and takeaways? While I’m at home with my mum and dad?’
‘God, at least save the nagging till we’re married!’ Chris rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, living with Kian has made me realise I don’t want to settle down just yet. I’m not saying I don’t want to marry you ever, but I just don’t know what I want. I do know, though, that I really don’t want to hurt you. So I think we need to step back and think about this. Yeah?’
Lauren was silent, and she turned away from him, staring out at the park while his words sank in. Her brain went on to automatic, as her eyes followed two joggers round the outside perimeter railings.
She felt Chris take her hand, wrapping his fingers round hers but she couldn’t bring herself to move her head and look down in case she saw the engagement ring that apparently didn’t mean as much to him as she had thought.
‘It doesn’t mean I don’t love you,’ he said, softly.
Lauren was so paralysed with unhappiness that she couldn’t speak.
They sat in silence, listening to the wind blowing through the indestructible shrubbery of the park.
‘So what do you want to do?’ said Lauren eventually. She was amazed at how steady her voice sounded when she was churning up inside.
‘Can we just have time-out for a week?’ said Chris. ‘Just to think?’
‘You want me to think about how much I want to get married, so you can come back in a week’s time and dump me?’ she replied sarcastically. ‘No, Chris.’
‘No!’ he protested. ‘I just want to press pause for a moment, just to be sure I know what’s happening! Don’t you feel that? That it’s all kind of running ahead of us? What with the house and the big plans and everything?’
Lauren nodded, very slightly, and cast a glance sideways. She couldn’t help hurting at how relieved Chris looked.
Relieved at what, she wondered. That she hadn’t kicked off? Or that he was on his way out of their relationship?
Lauren’s head ached. Chris didn’t let go of her hand. He didn’t show any signs of moving.
A jumble of thoughts crowded into her mind, all tied together so tightly she didn’t know how to start untangling them: her shattered wedding dreams, Chris’s half-rejection (what did he mean?), her mum’s nightmare debts, how she could start explaining any of it to anyone?
Lauren squeezed her eyes tight shut and when she opened them, the windswept park was still there, bleak as it ever was. She was filled with the need to be left alone, to work out what exactly she felt. These aren’t thoughts Mum can help with, thought Lauren, and a depressing sense that she’d finally reached adulthood hit her.
More than signing the mortgage, more than choosing the wedding dress. Having a problem you could only solve on your own – that was being grown-up.
‘Can you go now, please?’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Can you go? I need to be on my own.’
Chris looked surprised. ‘But . . .’
‘I can’t think with you here. Ring me on Wednesday, OK?’
‘You’re sure you don’t . . .’
‘I’m sure. Call me then. Text me to tell me you’re calling. Whatever.’
‘OK.’ Chris got up and started to walk away, his hands in his pockets. He’d gone four or five steps when he turned, and almost ran back to the bench.
‘You mean so much to me, Lauren,’ he said, urgently, taking her hands and crouching so their eyes were level. He hadn’t shaved in his rush to catch up with her, and an acrid morning smell lingered on his skin. But his eyes were lovely, she thought, randomly. Blue-grey, and honest.
He gazed into her eyes as if hoping she could read more there than he could say. ‘I just don’t want to mess it up and have us hating each other in two years.’
‘I don’t either,’ she said, in a small voice.
Chris leaned forward, cautiously, then closed his eyes and touched his lips against hers. They were warm and soft, and as he kissed her, with painful gentleness, Lauren’s heart was submerged by an aching wave of loss. How could he be so kind, and so cruel at the same time?
Taking her kiss as a positive sign, he started to curl his hand around the back of her neck, but she pushed him away.
‘Go,’ said Lauren, biting her lip, and this time he did.
She sat motionless for a while, trying desperately to lay one problem flat long enough to follow it through.
She could cancel the wedding.
Just thinking that made her stop breathin