The Wedding-Night Affair Read online

  Fiona winced slightly at the ‘Stevie’. She was always irritated by girls who added unnecessary ‘e’s to the ends of names and words. In truth, she wasn’t sure she could take too much of Connne. There was only just so much sugar she could swallow.

  ‘Have you decided what they’re going to wear yet?’ Connne added brightly.

  ‘I thought I would leave that up to Philip.’

  ‘Well, just between us girls, Fiona, please don’t let them wear one of those awful tails outfits. Those ones with the grey jackets and top hats. I would simply hate Philip in one of those silly hats. Grey is not a favourite colour of mine. Philip looks absolutely gorgeous in a tux, though. Black, of course. I simply adore black.’

  ‘You’re the bride, Corinne. Whatever you want. Just tell Philip.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll do whatever you suggest, Fiona. I can see he’s very impressed with you. But not as impressed as his mother. She rang me this morning and simply raved some more.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I think she wanted to reassure me before I go away, but truly, I don’t need reassuring. I have every faith in Philip’s judgement of a person, and he says he has no doubt you won’t leave a stone unturned to make our wedding a success. Now, speaking of the wedding, I was wondering if Carmel and I could meet you at the first salon you planned on taking us to tomorrow, rather than you picking us up at my place. It would be less trouble for you.’

  ‘It’s no trouble, Corinne.’ Fiona had found things always went more smoothly if everyone was in one car, since they would probably be traipsing all over Sydney all day.

  ‘Maybe, but Carmel and I want to have our own wheels, if you don’t mind, Fiona. So we’ll definitely be meeting you there. At ten, you said? I just need the name of the place and the address.’

  Fiona was slightly taken aback by the abrupt change from the bubbly and very agreeable Corinne to this coolly assertive version.

  Startled, Fiona told her the name and address of the bridal salon in question, after which the girl hung up just as abruptly, leaving Fiona feeling slightly put out. She replaced the phone with a frown on her face.

  If Philip’s fiancée subscribed to the theory of getting more with honey than with vinegar, then she really should learn not to let the act drop all of a sudden, even if she was only talking to a hireling.

  The word ‘act’ just sprang into Fiona’s mind, unbidden. But it immediately began to bother her.

  Was this what Steve sensed about Corinne? That she was acting; that she wasn’t sincere; that she didn’t really love Philip?

  Suddenly, meeting Corinne tomorrow took on an added aspect, rather than just getting a job done and perhaps satisfying her curiosity over what Corinne looked like. She now wanted to know what Corinne was actually like. Because, darn it all, she wasn’t about to sit back and let Philip waste his life on anyone less than the best!

  Because that was why she’d given Philip up. For him to have the best in life. And the best in life certainly wasn’t some female who didn’t truly really love him with every fibre of her being.

  Fiona knew what such a love felt like, and if she didn’t see the same kind of adoration in Corinne then she would...she would...

  Do what? a cynical voice inserted.

  God only knew.

  But she sure as hell would do something!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE bridal salon was just off the Pacific Highway, in the northern suburb of Lindfield. It carried a wide range of wedding dresses, locally made gowns alongside those imported from Asia and America, plus every accessory imaginable, from veils to shoes, underwear to jewellery. It was a one-stop shop for busy brides, and was always Fiona’s first port of call when looking for a wedding dress off the rack.

  Fiona slid her Audi into the kerb outside the shop ten minutes before the allotted time for meeting Corinne and Carmel, cut the engine and just sat there, waiting. It was a fine sunny morning, but somewhat on the fresh side. Pleasant enough, though, provided you stayed in the car.

  Fiona stayed in the car, thinking.

  At five past ten a zappy little red sports car pulled in behind and two girls got out, laughing.

  Fiona studied them in the rearview mirror for a few unobserved moments. The driver was very tall, with an athletic figure and short brown hair. The passenger had long straight blonde hair, and was of medium height, with a shapely hour-glass figure. Both girls were wearing jeans and sweaters. Both wore sunglasses, which prevented Fiona from seeing if they were really pretty or not, but from what she could see the word ‘unattractive’ did not spring to mind. She hadn’t thought it would.

  Fiona climbed out from behind the wheel and walked over to where the two girls were standing, gazing up at the bridal mannequin in the shop window and making comments.

  ‘That would suit you, Cori,’ the brunette was saying. ‘Especially with your gorgeous boobs.’

  Fiona had already noticed the gorgeous boobs herself. And the girl was right. The dress in the window, with its low heart-shaped neckline, tight lace bodice and flouncy tulle skirt, would show the blonde’s figure off to perfection.

  ‘Hello,’ she said a little stiffly from just behind them. ‘You must be Corinne and Carmel. I’m Fiona.’

  Corinne turned and looked Fiona up and down. She whipped off her sunglasses, and whistled. ‘Wow, Fiona. Philip forgot to tell me how gorgeous you were!’

  It seemed ‘gorgeous’ was the in word with these two.

  Fiona, who’d dressed down for the occasion in brown, knew she didn’t look at all gorgeous that morning. Sleepless nights did that to one.

  But she accepted the flattery with a polite if somewhat plastic smile, told herself that she wasn’t crushed that Corinne’s eyes were like emerald pools, and set about trying to discover if Philip’s fiancée was a genuine ingénue, or a callous, cold-blooded creature who was only marrying Philip for his money, or some such other equally superficial reason.

  ‘Don’t you think Fiona’s gorgeous, Carmel?’ Corinne said, and nudged her bridesmaid in the ribs.

  Carmel, who’d also taken off her sunglasses, gave Fiona a sour glance and declined to comment. She wasn’t nearly as pretty as her friend, her black eyes spoiled by heavy eyelids which gave her a sulky, sullen look.

  Fiona decided it matched her disposition. She wondered what someone as effervescent as Corinne was doing with her, unless it was because Carmel made her look good by comparison. She’d known other stunning girls with vibrant personalities with the oddest friends.

  ‘Shall we go inside?’ Fiona suggested, uncaring and unbothered by Carmel’s rudeness. It was the bride’s true character she wanted to uncover.

  Unfortunately, Corinne remained on her best and most delightful behaviour all morning, and, as much as Fiona hated to admit it, she didn’t put a foot wrong. For once, she showed some interest in the wedding—or at least in what she was going to wear—continuously asking Carmel whether she thought Philip would like her in whatever gown she was trying on at the time.

  On one occasion it tartly crossed Fiona’s mind that Corinne would have been better off asking her, Philip’s ex-wife. But she could hardly say so.

  Carmel gave all of the gowns the thumbs-down, except the one from the window, which she said was definitely the one. She sounded sincere too, her cold black eyes lighting up for the first time in over two hours.

  Unfortunately, Fiona had to agree. Corinne looked simply delicious in that dress. Philip could not help but be turned on by the sight of her in it. Fiona knew what he liked, and that dress was definitely it—plus the curvaceous body in it.

  Fiona only just stopped herself from trying to talk the girl out of buying it.

  The dress decided upon, Corinne simply had to ring Philip and tell him. She even borrowed Fiona’s mobile to do so.

  Fiona just stood there, next to a lemon-faced Carmel, while Corinne gushed and gammered to her beloved over the dress, told him she loved him a thousand times, and how much she was going to m
iss him while she was away, but how it would be worth the wait when he saw her in that dress.

  If it was an act, it was a darned good one. Still, when she started blowing kisses down the line Fiona knew she’d heard enough.

  ‘Let’s leave the mobile with Corinne and go find you something in black, Carmel,’ she suggested brusquely to the brunette.

  ‘Not without Corinne,’ she was promptly told. “There’s no point. I’m here to do what she wants, not what I want. So are you, aren’t you?’

  Fiona felt duly chastened, and waited bleakly till Corinne was finished. The blushing bride finally handed back the mobile, her cheeks all pink and rosy.

  Fiona gave up at that moment, admitting to herself she’d been grabbing at straws in hoping to find something shallow and nasty about Corinne. When a girl got so excited by a mere phone call then she had to be in love.

  ‘Thanks, Fiona,’ Corinne said. ‘You’re a doll!’ She whirled around and admired herself anew in the many mirrors in the salon. ‘Don’t you just love me in this dress, Carmel?’ she said, her face still flushed.

  Carmel’s mouth tightened a fraction, and it occurred to Fiona that the one and only bridesmaid might be just a little jealous of the bride’s beauty. ‘It’s perfect, Cori,’ she said, though her voice was cold.

  Corinne smiled at her, then linked arms, pulling a reluctant Carmel to her side. ‘Now we have to find something just as smashing for you. Something sleek and slinky and sexy, in black satin.’

  Carmel looked doubtful. ‘I’m not really the slinky and sexy type, Cori. I don’t have the figure for it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly. I simply love your figure. You’re so tall and slim. And you have the best legs in the world. Maybe we could get you a dress which has a slit up the side to show them off. What do you think, Fiona?’

  Fiona prayed for patience. She was going to need every drop she possessed, and more, to get through this day. ‘Let’s go and see what they have in stock in black satin, shall we?’

  ‘Yes, let’s. Oh, this is much more fun than I thought it would be!’

  Fiona only just stopped herself rolling her eyes.

  Thankfully, they found a black satin gown for Carmel which looked, if not sexy and slinky, then coolly elegant on the girl. It was a simple enough sheath, with a bow at the back and, yes, a slit up one of the sides. She needed it to be able to walk.

  Black certainly did suit her, Fiona thought as she stood back and looked at the pair.

  ‘The black and white does look good together,’ she conceded. ‘Did Kathryn tell you about the idea I had for the guests, Corinne? She said she would.’

  ‘You mean about everyone wearing black and white? Yes, she did, and I think it’s positively brilliant! Sydney’s had plenty of black and white balls, but never a strictly black and white wedding that I recall. All the women guests will be rushing to the boutiques, snapping up all the black and white ballgowns. How on earth did you think of it?’

  ‘It just came to me,’ Fiona said. She declined to tell her that with such a small wedding party and an at-home reception she’d had to think of something to make the wedding stand out in people’s minds. Owen would be very disappointed if Five-Star Weddings didn’t get some mileage out of this.

  ‘By the way, Corinne,’ Fiona went on, ‘Kathryn mentioned Philip has a couple of young cousins who would make the perfect page-boy and flower girl. I know you don’t want any more bridesmaids, but I didn’t think you’d mind that.’

  ‘No, I don’t mind that at all. What will they do, exactly?’

  ‘The page-boy will carry the ring cushion. He will go first, then Carmel, then the flower girl next, strewing rose petals in your path. Red rose petals, I thought. In fact, I was thinking red roses for both your bouquets and the men’s lapels. They would look simply magnificent against all the black and white.’

  ‘They certainly would. Yes.’

  ‘I have a folder of various bouquets in the car,’ Fiona told her. ‘I’ll go get it and you can choose what—’

  ‘Oh, no, don’t bother me with that,’ Corinne interrupted. ‘You choose.’

  Fiona stared at her. Not once, in all the weddings she’d helped with, had she had a bride who didn’t want to choose her own bouquet.

  Corinne must have seen the look on her face.

  The girl’s smile was dazzling. ‘We just haven’t got the time for me to choose everything personally, Fiona, darling. That’s why Kathryn hired you. And I can understand why. You’re so efficient. And you’ve done it all before so many times. I trust you implicitly to make me into the bride of the year. After all, that’s your job, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Fiona returned, feeling a little confused. Was this girl for real or not? ‘But it’s your wedding, Corinne. Brides usually have definite ideas about what they like and don’t like.’

  ‘Oh, I have definite ideas about what I like and don’t like, don’t I, Carmel?’ she returned, an edge creeping into her voice. ‘I just don’t care much about weddings as such. If society didn’t dictate you should be married before you have children I wouldn’t be getting married to Philip at all. I would simply have had a baby by him.’

  Once again, Fiona was taken aback. ‘Well...um... lots of girls do that nowadays anyway.’

  Corinne laughed. ‘Not with a father like mine, they don’t. I—’

  Carmel tapped Corinne on the arm. ‘I think we’d better get out of these dresses, Cori,’ she said firmly. ‘We don’t want to ruin anything at this stage, do we?’

  For a moment Corinne looked angry with her friend, then she smiled a wry smile. ‘You’re right. That would never do.’

  ‘You’d best choose your shoes before you get undressed,’ Fiona said. ‘And any other accessories you might want.’ She could see this would possibly be her only chance to get the bride and the bridesmaid fully outfitted.

  In only one added hour all purchases had been made, Corinne and Carmel had driven off together, and Fiona was on her way back to the office, feeling decidedly perturbed.

  With any other bride she would have been busy with her all day. And maybe another day as well. But Corinne was clearly not the run-of-the-mill bride. She certainly wasn’t the perfect ‘She just wants to be Philip’s wife and the mother of his children’ creature which Kathryn had outlined on Sunday.

  Fiona wondered if Philip knew of this unconventional and rebellious side to Corinne, if she’d confided her secret wish not to be married to him but to have his babies out of wedlock.

  No, not babies, Fiona amended in her mind with a frown. ‘Baby’, the girl had said. Did she only want the one? Philip, Fiona was sure, would want more. He had ten years ago. Why would he have changed? Surely Kathryn had intimated as much on Sunday as well. He wanted children, not just the one child. He’d been an only child himself and hated it.

  Fiona wasn’t in any doubt that the girl loved Philip. But love wasn’t enough when you were two totally different people, when you had different goals and different agendas.

  Philip and Corinne seemed the perfect couple on the surface, but were they? Would Corinne make Philip happy if she didn’t really want the constriction of marriage? Surely it was an indictment of her character that she was flitting off overseas during the weeks leading up to the wedding. Her outer gaiety might well be a cover for an inner restlessness. Why couldn’t Philip see that?

  Worse, what could Fiona possibly do about it?

  She could hardly ring Philip up and tell him her theories about Corinne. Neither was there any point in saying anything to Kathryn when they met later this week to finalise everything for the wedding. Philip’s mother thought the sun shone out of Corinne. Which it did, in a way. The girl had an irresistible and radiant charm when she chose to exercise it.

  A thought suddenly crossed Fiona’s mind.

  Steve. The best man.

  It seemed Steve didn’t care for Corinne. She would be seeing Steve next Tuesday, to kit him and Philip out for the wedding.

&n
bsp; Fiona would keep her eyes and ears open, and if an opportunity presented itself she would...she would...

  Well, she wasn’t sure what she would do. But she would do something! She couldn’t stand by and let Philip marry the wrong girl. She’d set him free so that he could be happy. And something—some deep, inner female instinct—was warning her that he would not be happy with Corinne!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘AREN’T you supposed to be meeting Philip and his best man in town this morning?’ Owen said to her when she walked into the office at eight-thirty the following Tuesday morning.

  ‘Not till eleven,’ she replied, her crisp tone belying the butterflies in her stomach. ‘I’ll catch a train around ten and still be in plenty of time.’

  Owen’s eyes narrowed and flicked over her mint-green linen suit. ‘That’s new, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ In actuality she’d bought it to wear to some of the spring weddings they were doing. She’d been going to wear grey or brown today, but feminine pride had had the final say that morning. ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘You look like a breath of fresh air.’ he grumbled.

  ‘And that’s bad?’

  ‘Only if you’re going to meet your ex.’

  ‘Give that a rest, will you, Owen?’

  ‘I will...after you get back safely with the wedding still on. At least after today you won’t need to see Philip again till the week of the wedding.’

  Owen’s very correct comment reminded Fiona that this morning was her last real opportunity to do something about Corinne.

  ‘That bothers you, does it?’ Owen said sharply.

  It did, but Fiona tried to look unconcerned.

  ‘Not really. Why?’

  ‘Just checking. My problem antenna is still beeping. It has been ever since we took this job.’

  ‘A job you insisted we take, I might add,’ Fiona pointed out drily.

  ‘Yeah. Yeah. Don’t rub it in. So, how are things really going?’

  ‘Swimmingly. Never had less trouble. What I say goes. I’ve never known a wedding like it. On top of that, if everything goes off as planned, it really will be something to behold.’