Page 25 of The Wedding Cake
He’d figured all this out before his waste of time sessions with Jacqui, in any case. There was no need for him to bring up Piper’s infidelity on the two occasions he did go for counselling. Which is why he never returned.
The photographs had arrivedon a Monday way back in March. They were addressed to him and to him only. In a sense, Tim had been expecting them, although he did wonder who could be so callous as to try to derail him? Surely Freya, for instance, wouldn’t do such a thing? When Tim squinted, the gorgeous brunette in the graphic images didn’t look like Piper. Besides, he’d never seen any of this underwear before. Tim’s initial thoughts were, what a sick stunt for somebody to pull. And that meant it had to be the work of a rival influencer. He’d seen so many of them eyeing Piper up in and around the hotel in Puerto Banus. It wouldn’t take much to impersonate her. That’s why you couldn’t clearly see the face in any of these pictures, even when your eyes were on stalks, taking in all the activity. The male had a whiff of that Noah dude about him, but Tim knew that was impossible given he was gay.
But then Tim had made a cup of tea and come back to the photographs without his rose-tinted glasses, setting aside the incessant internal chatter. Reality had bitten him as he’d tucked into his plate of (secretly stashed) Bourbon biscuits.
It was Piper. Now he could see the beauty spot on her left buttock. And it was Noah too. Evidently, he favoured the same smirk during intercourse as Tim had noted on the beach that day. Tim had been massively in denial. And as for Piper, why would she still want to get married to him when she was mucking about behind his back? For a split second, Tim wondered if she’d been forced into this series of compromising positions? Who was to say that she hadn’t been bribed or blackmailed? Like he’d just said, the influencer world was super competitive when you reached the dizzy heights at the top. Tim had chewed on another Bourbon in contemplation. The sugary hit of the no-nonsense biscuit had brought him back to his senses for once and for all. Piper wanted Noah as much as Noah wanted Piper. Tim hid the pictures in his sock drawer. He needed time to process things. He needed time to decide what he was going to do.
As the weeks and months rolled by and Piper kept up a remarkable act as the quintessentially excited bride, Tim found he couldn’t get angry, despite his disappointment – even if he tried. Another realisation: he didn’t love Piper at all. How could he? Everything he’d said to Freya that day when she’d sped off from the paragliding session had been true. He was in love with the idea of being in love – but he wasn’t in love with the person he was due to marry.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t, it seemed, stopped him from falling head over heels for Freya. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke in the morning, and she then filled his head until dusk. She was the last thing he thought about at night when his weary head hit the pillow. Tim’s predicament was torture. Another reason he’d decided to keep things simple and go through with the wedding. Nobody needed the drama. It was hard enough for him. How would his parents cope with the cancellations, money lost on flights and accommodation, outfits and hats? His dad had eaten right into his precious savings so they could stay in an all-inclusive beachside hotel in Marbella. This whole trip was a once in a lifetime holiday for them. And so even more weeks and months had passed by, Tim and Piper both faking their love to one another – and doubtless countless orgasms too.
Just when Timhadn’t thought his pre-wedding nerves could get any worse, Piper had got a phone call from Spain at the very end of July, mere days before they were due to fly out to the villa.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she’d shrieked into her mobile in the hallway as Tim had dutifully sliced the avocado for her sprouted wholegrain toast at the kitchen worktop. “How can you possibly double-book a wedding cake, you useless cow?Mine absolutely has to take priority!I’m a high profile influencer.Do you realise which magazine is covering my wedding day? Do I need to remind you who used to own the villa we’re getting married at?”
“Shit!” Tim had lost his concentration on the job in hand and cut his finger. He’d quickly swaddled it in the nearest tea towel, torn between the need to seize the phone to rescue whoever at FOM was on the other end of the line (highly likely Freya) and concern about his fingertip.What was all that about?It did not sound good. Tim panicked as he took in the bloodstain growing on the cloth. But still he’d cast his mind back to that February afternoon and his conversation with Freya. She’d produced that old-fashioned order book and gone over the finer points with him, hadn’t she? But had he been too lost in his deep and immediate attraction to her (and the delicious cake)? What ifhehadn’t picked up on the fact that she’d mentioned the wrong date? What if he’d caused all of this pandemonium? This could not be happening on top of everything else. With one hand, he managed to open the first aid kit and slap a large plaster on the cut. It didn’t look like it needed stitches. He’d dress it properly later.
“I was about to call you anyway,” Piper had continued in the kitchen doorway. Tim had held his breath for the next instalment, praying he wouldn’t get roped into the conversation. He definitely hadn’t been up for talking to Freya in front of his bride-to-be. “I want a floating wedding cake table to go with myfully-formedeight-tier showstopper.” She wantedwhatnow? “I don’t care how much it costs. There are a couple of perfectly sized palm trees in the villa’s garden and it’s going to look epic in the middle of them, suspended like something out of a fairy-tale. Mervyn will send you the garden plan and pictures but you’ll definitely need to get your team down to the villa – like yesterday – to work out how to put it all together. Basically, the cake needs to be tied securely to the palms with the finest silk you can get your hands on, so that it swings between them on a wooden seat… it also needs to be fixed to the seat very securely.”
Tim had heard a frantic voice –Freya’s frantic voice– on the other end of the line. For sure she’d be protesting about that. It would be impossible this close to the wedding to factor in the time to make such a finicky addition. Meanwhile, Piper cruelly held her hand up in the shape of a beak, to take the mickey out of Freya explaining why she could not drop everything to fulfil this outlandish demand, which sounded acrobatic to say the least. Tim had visions of the cake flying through the air and splatting Piper in the face. On second thoughts…
“No, I am not falling for your tricks,” Piper had continued. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so worked up. “How would half a cake ever become an influencer trend? You don’t even know my business or the things that are currently in hot demand so stop trying to tell me how to run my career. Get me the cake I ordered on the day I ordered it… along with my updated requirements – or else. And I hardly need to spell out what the ‘else’ part of that sentence implies.”
Piper had cut the call and thrown the phone over her shoulder. It landed (somewhere in the hallway) with a clunk. Oh, well. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any back-ups.
Tim had focused on the here and now with all his brain power. The urge to hop on a flight and check Freya was okay was enormous.
“Erm, everything okay, love?” Tim had asked Piper pointlessly as she walked into the kitchen. “Avocado toast?”
“Are you living on another planet?” she spat. “Of course everything isn’t all right. But it will be! You can forget the lunch, though, I’ve lost my appetite.”
Piper had stormed out of the room as quickly as she’d entered it. Tim had binned the toast. He knew avocado was a superfood but he couldn’t understand the fascination with its soft, oily texture and would not be partaking. Before he cleared up he had to make fists of his hands and rub at his eyes, like they do in cartoons, to check that he wasn’t dreaming. Piper had turned into one giant nightmare of a bridezilla and frankly she petrified him. Besides which, how could anybody be expected to cut a cake while it was swinging? Assuming, of course, that he’d heard that bit of the extremely one-sided conversation correctly.
He'd decided he would need to intervene and call Freya (or whoever he could now speak with at FOM, since Freya had probably headed to the nearest bar to drown her sorrows), ensuring the cake was salvaged in whichever way the professionals thought best, and apologising for Piper’s outrageous request. He’d wait until his girlfriend left the apartment, and he’d rehearse something.
“Tim?Tim!We’re moving on, Squirrel!” Josh nudged him hard in the ribs before he could replay the way he’d attempted to remedy the situation. “The Chinese takeaway calls. Are you coming or what?”
Like so many things that could not continue, Tim’s trances and reveries into the past had to stop.
“Not tonight, boys. I’m watching my weight.”
Well, damn. There he went, falling into the trap of making Piper look like she was in control yet again. And on that note he remembered for the gazillionth time that she was still being evasive about the guest list and the honeymoon. He really needed to know who was coming and where he was supposed to be whisking her away to, once she’d thrown the bouquet over her head to the next ignoramus.
“Right, well,” said Josh. “I guess the next time we see you will be at the check-in desk at the airport. Unless you cha—”
“That you will,” said Tim, determined that nobody or nothing would make him backpedal. “Make sure your shoes are buffed and your suits packed neatly. It’s going to be a wedding to remember!”
FREYA
Alice was wonderful. If Freya ever had a daughter, then that’s what she’d call her: amazing, awesome, admirable Alice.
That was well and good. But Freya couldn’t help but think she was about to go from one conversational extreme to another. Which was why (and she hoped this wouldn’t become a regular occurrence) she’d treated herself to lunch at one of the orange tree square’s bars; lunch with a rather fat G&T.
She didn’t drink it all! She wasn’tthatunprofessional, despite having had her moments this year… Still, those few sips helped take the edge off the call that she had to make, because the days were whizzing by and there was no longer anywhere to run or hide. Hannah had flagged the subject up with Merv. He had been incandescent, and Freya realised she should have made the initial call herself. Merv had always been so suspicious of Hannah and was forever making cutting little remarks in her presence. But Freya wasn’t going to beat herself up about another faux pas. She would deal with Merv in a couple of days when he was back in the cakery and they had a whole heap of bookings to go through. She would also be introducing him to their brand-new order system, and ripping the damn green book to shreds. It seemed harsh but it was the only way to make it clear that they could no longer accommodate his old-fashioned requirements. He needed to get with the times, else the business would find their clientele from elsewhere. There were plenty of other wedding planners in this part of Spain and Freya could not afford to have FOM’s reputation dragged through the mud again.
Once she had trudged with heavy feet back to the office, she perched on the edge of her desk with her mobile phone and made the call. She didn’t deviate too much from the opening line she’d used with Alice.
“Hi Piper. It’s Freya here at FOM in Spain. I hope all is well… blah-di-blah…BOOM!”
