White Wedding Read Free Page A

wouldn’t be able to get out of the door.
    ‘So tell me all the details,’ Glyn said, taking the milk out of the fridge. ‘I suppose it was all girly wedding talk.’
    ‘More or less,’ replied Violet. ‘We watched that My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding programme on the television.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘And that was it really. Talked a bit.’
    ‘What about?’
    ‘Things.’
    ‘What sort of things?’
    Violet shrugged. ‘Can’t really remember, to be honest. All forgettable stuff.’
    Glyn brought the tea into the lounge in his and hers mugs, a present from his mother. ‘Want a biccy to dunk?’
    She took the tea. She didn’t want it but it was easier just to accept it and sip at it, otherwise there might have been an inquisition on the subject of why she didn’t want a
drink.
    ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass on the biscuit.’
    ‘It’s only one biscuit, Letty. You’ll not get fat on a jam ring.’
    ‘I said I’m stuffed, Glyn,’ said Violet.
    ‘Oh. I nipped to the shop and got them in especially,’ said Glyn, his smile falling into a glum downward arc.
    Violet watched his bottom lip start to curl over. She reached out and took a chocolate finger to pacify him. The sunshine flooded back into his expression again as he stared at her, relishing
the sight of her eating one of the biscuits that he had so lovingly bought for her. When she was a little girl, Violet used to dream of being looked at so intently by a man.
    ‘How tired are you?’ he asked.
    Oh God. ‘Very,’ Violet replied, forcing out a yawn. ‘And I’ve got a full day ahead of me tomorrow.’
    ‘Oh. Okay,’ he sighed. Again that little cloud had floated over his head. ‘I put the electric blanket on tonight as it’s a bit chilly. It’ll be lovely and
extra-cosy in bed.’
    Violet tried not to roll her eyes. She hated climbing into a bed that was already warm. She liked cool cotton sheets and sleeping with the window open so that a breeze could waft over her during
the night. Glyn always had the heating turned up to full blast and all the windows closed. Violet found it hard to breathe in his flat sometimes.
    She went through the pretence of drinking some more before taking her mug to the sink and pouring the tea down the drain. Then she sneaked her half-uneaten biscuit into the flip-top bin in the
corner.
    ‘I’ll just have a quick shower,’ she announced, heading for the bathroom.
    ‘Want some company?’ Glyn winked at her and snatched another biscuit.
    ‘Not worth it, I’ll only be in for two minutes. I’m too tired to stay in there for long. See you in bed,’ she called briskly.
    She would rather have had a long hot soak in the bath, but at least by saying that she was taking a quick shower she had more chance of some privacy. Still, she half expected to feel the
waterproof curtain shift and then his naked body pressing into hers from behind. But, for once, that didn’t happen. He was waiting for her in bed, though; ready to slip his arms round her and
cuddle into her back until he fell asleep. Then she shifted ever so carefully away from his sweat-sticky fleshy stomach to the furthest edge of the bed.

Chapter 3
    Max floated home on a vision of billowing net, silk, satin and white horses. She swaggered up the drive to the front door of her double-fronted detached house imagining that
she was swathed in the world’s biggest frock, the train stretching so far behind her that she needed binoculars to see the end of it. Hundreds of lights were sewn into the material, their
glow soft and as fuzzily gorgeous as a soft-focus portrait. Gypsy Margaret had pink flashing flowers sewn on her dress. Max imagined butterflies for herself, with such vividly coloured wings that
they showed up on Google Earth. At almost six foot tall, with curves that made the Alps look like a Dutch landscape, Maxine McBride was not built for subtle. And there was no place for anything
discreet at a gypsy wedding.
    Stuart was still up when she got home. He was