Page 105 of Mad About You

As a finishing touch, she painted her lips with Lorna’sfavourite Ruby Woo. Her crimson mouth gave her a welcome vixen-boldness she didn’t feel. She wore her hair down, scrunching it when damp with the serum that Marianne had sent her, and affixed her black net birdcage veil, which fell below her nose.

This accessory had been a fine judgement. On the one hand, it obscured her features, and made her look even less like Harriet Hatley. On the other, it drew attention. In the end, trying it on in the department store, she went with it on the basis she really liked it.

She checked the mirror. Harriet didn’t recognise the vampy widow, and this felt reassuring. Deep breath. She descended the stairs carefully, unused to heels and a dress that made her totter.

‘Fucking hell. When you’re done with Scott, can you publicly destroy my reputation, too?’ Cal said, passing in the hallway, with wide eyes.

Harriet hooted with laughter, in an un-siren like fashion. He kept looking at her, and she felt it.

She had an involuntary flash image – Cal slightly roughly pushing her against the wall, pulling her dress up her legs in grabbed handfuls, as she clutched at his lapels, him kissing her so hard that he had red lipstick on his mouth.

Ugh,Hatley, she admonished.Sponge that idea away. Even though it gave her a pulsing sensation, low in her stomach.

‘Wish me luck,’ Harriet said.

The taxi outside, containing Lorna, beeped.This was it.

‘Good luck,’ Cal said. He hesitated, leaned over and kissed her in chaste fashion on the cheek, his lips pressing againstthe scratchy fabric of her veil. The spot burned throughout Harriet’s walk to the car.

‘I presume you know the floorplan,’ Lorna said, once they were on their way, ‘The layout? God, I know this wouldn’t be happening if Scott Dyer wasn’t a scumbucket that hurt women, but fuck me, his reckoning is exciting.’

‘I know my way to the ballroom. Once through the door I’ll have to hope for the best. Obviously the arrangements for each wedding can vary.’

Oh God, oh GOD: what if Scott had stationed himself by the door, to guide each arrival to their seat? It was exactly the kind of thing he’d do, too – Mr Performative Attentive Chivalry.

‘Where’s the other ex going to be? Is it Nina? Are we meeting her?’

‘We’re only contacting each through our phones as we reckon the sight of the two of us together is too risky in terms of Scott realising something’s up,’ Harriet gazed at the city scenery flying past her window, heart a slow but increasing gallop, and said: ‘Even if he does recognise me, if the ceremony is right about to start he’d not have time to make a scene. He might assume I am desolate, spying on the event where I lose him forever.’

‘Howdoyou get to be as big a dildo as Scott Dyer? You sort of wonder, did he attain dildo-hood at any point? Or if you’d met him aged five, he’d have been a little dildo?’

Harriet was wretched with nerves and guilt, and Lorna was stillcheering her up.

Guilt: once again it was useful to name the emotion. (Unnamed fears are the worst fears.Was that Cal?)

The thing was, she’d instigated all of this: she’d written to Marianne, she’d friend-requested Nina, she’d led directly to Marianne deciding to wreck her own union.

If it all went to hell, it’d be on Harriet.

‘You know, supporting someone else like this is really exceptional,’ Lorna said, as if she could hear Harriet’s thoughts.

‘Let’s hope that’s what they say, not that I’m an exceptional piece of work.’

‘Hang on,’ Lorna put her hand on Harriet’s bare arm. In a role reversal, Lorna was in the plain jeans and t-shirt. If it was as if they were playing dress-up as each other. ‘Mariannewanted to do this. You’ve inspired her, but you’ve not forced her or cajoled or even suggested this to her. It’s a lovely quality that you make other people’s feelings your problem, but that can go too far.’

‘Thank you,’ Harriet said gratefully. She pulled and snapped at the seat belt across her chest and tried to command her racing pulse to slow down. ‘Plus, we’ve invented a secret signal so she can confirm she definitely wants Nina and me to speak.’

Marianne had been bewildered by this – Harriet could tell she was almost put out at being doubted. ‘I’ve been to so many weddings and know how the emotion can swallow you on the day,’ Harriet typed.

‘If it swallows me, grab my legs and pull me back out!’ Marianne had responded.

‘Really?!’ Lorna said. ‘Oh God, this is too much. This is like a TV series my mum would get the good biscuits out for and call me up to talk about afterwards. What’s the signal?’

Harriet’s stomach lurched as the hotel drew into view.

‘Once she’s at the altar, she’s going to turn round and wave, or blow a kiss, to her mum. That means she’s definitely still on board with The Plan and wants us to go ahead.’

Harriet wished she’d not said this, as they emerged at the Queen’s. It was only when repeating it, she realised that her safety check had in fact added a problem, instead of being a solution. What if Marianne forgot the signal, but remained committed? Then, if it sank everything, she’d feel betrayed by an unnecessary complication of Harriet’s making.

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