The Road Trip, Beth O'Leary [read an ebook week .txt] 📗

then let out a gasp of pain as I accidentally move my hand. ‘Pass it, would you? We need to tell her we won’t be there until tomorrow. I should have called already.’

I wipe my face and answer the call.

‘Hey Cherry,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s bad news.’

‘No!’ comes Cherry’s tinny voice down the phone. ‘No! No! No! You are five minutes away! You are!’

‘We’re not,’ I say, grimacing. ‘We’re really not.’

‘Krish’s aunt and uncle are held up too, coming from London. This is so bad, Ads.’

‘It’s not, it’s fine! There’s just some bad traffic today, that’s all. It’ll have cleared up tomorrow and everyone will be there in plenty of time for the wedding.’

‘Everyone was meant to be here today! We had to have our family barbecue without you!’

I smile, wiping my wet cheeks. ‘I’m not technically your family, you know.’

‘Shut up! What! Oh, God, Krish is beckoning me over – probably some new crisis – they’re out of gypsophila at the florist, have you ever heard of such absolute rubbish? Out of it? It’s the bread and butter of the floral world, Addie. The kidney bean in the chilli. Do you understand?’

‘Not exactly, but I understand that things are seeming a little overwhelming right now,’ I say, in the most calming voice I can manage. ‘But you have Krish. That’s all that matters. And even if the florist runs out of every bean in the chilli, or whatever, Krish will still be your husband by the end of tomorrow.’

‘Yes. Yes.’ I hear Cherry take a deep breath. ‘That’s what matters. Except . . . the other stuff does also matter. Not as much, you know, but still quite a lot?’

I laugh. ‘Yeah, I hear you. Look, we’ll be there as early as we possibly can tomorrow, and I’ll give you the biggest hug, and then I’ll run around pilfering all the gypsophila from the other florists of Ettrick if you want me to. Or I’ll just stay with you saying calming things. Whatever you need.’

‘I love you, Addie,’ she says. ‘I really do. Is it OK, the journey? God, sorry, I haven’t even asked – you’ve spent the whole day with Dylan! Are you all right?’

‘I’m OK. I’ve got Deb.’

‘Thank God for Deb,’ Cherry says. ‘I wish I had Deb.’

‘Sorry. We’ll all be there tomorrow late morning, OK?’

‘OK,’ she says, in a little, very un-Cherry-ish voice.

‘Oh, I can’t remember if Dylan told you Rodney is with us as well, so he’s going to be late too. And Marcus, but I guess you figured that out. And also don’t care.’

‘Yeah, Marcus must know he was a pity invite,’ Cherry says. ‘Who did you say was with you?’

‘Rodney? He needed a lift from the Chichester area, so we picked him up. Poor man. He had no idea what he was letting himself in for.’

‘Rodney?’ Cherry says.

‘Yeah?’

‘Rodney who?’

‘What? Err.’ I glance at Deb. ‘I can’t remember. Rodney . . . Wilson, maybe? Or Rodney White?’

‘Rodney Wiley?’

‘Yeah, that sounds about right. Why? Is that a problem?’

‘Ads . . . Addie . . .’

‘What?’

Deb’s unpacking – she looks over at me, catching my tone.

‘Rodney Wiley is not invited to my wedding.’

‘What?’

‘Jesus, Addie, have you – is he actually with you? Is he with you now?’ Cherry’s voice rises.

‘No, he’s downstairs – what’s wrong? Who is he?’

‘He’s the guy. The guy from that Christmas party.’

‘Oh my God. The weird guy you slept with who wrote you love poems?!’

‘Yes!’

‘No!’ I say, hand over my mouth. ‘No! His name was not Rodney!’

‘Yes, it was!’

‘I would have remembered!’

‘Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Addie, because you didn’t! Oh my God. Why is he coming to my wedding?’ Cherry shrieks. ‘You have to get rid of him!’

‘What the hell is going on?’ Deb asks.

‘Is he like . . . dangerous?’ I ask, eyes widening.

‘Maybe!’ Cherry says. ‘I mean, well. Not really, no, but he’s really bloody annoying. And he seems to have invited himself to my wedding which is so weird. How did he even get hold of you to ask for a lift?!’

‘He was in the wedding Facebook group! Only people with the invite knew about it, so I just figured . . .’

‘What’s going on?’ Deb asks again.

I wave an impatient hand her way.

‘What do we do?’ I ask Cherry. ‘What do you want us to do? Is he still in love with you?’

‘It’s certainly looking that way, isn’t it!’ Cherry says, sounding almost hysterical. ‘I doubt he’s coming to the wedding to give us his best wishes.’

‘You think he wants to try and stop the wedding?’

‘Who are you talking about? Rodney?’ Deb asks, coming closer. I switch the phone to loudspeaker.

‘Cherry? What do you want us to do?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know,’ Cherry says, on the brink of tears. ‘I don’t know, just don’t let him get here. Just get rid of him.’

Deb and I look at each other.

‘You can do that, can’t you? You’ll get rid of him?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ I say. ‘There will be no Rodney Wiley at your wedding.’

‘OK. OK. Oh my God, I wonder what he was planning.’ Cherry sounds like she’s speaking through her hands. ‘I have to go, guys, Krish is beckoning with both hands now, and he’s really frowny – but you’ll sort it, won’t you? I can’t believe you gave my stalker a lift to my wedding, God! Krish, hang on, would you – I’ve got to go, ladies, but do what you’ve got to do, all right?’

‘We’re not going to kill him, if that’s what you mean,’ Deb says.

‘What! Deb! No! Just, you know . . . waylay him. Tie him up somewhere. Maybe give him a bit of a scare.’

‘Cherry!’ I say, starting to laugh.

‘These are desperate times, Addie! I’m counting on you!’

She hangs up. Deb and I stare at each other.

‘Huh,’ I say.

‘Well,’ says Deb.

‘I feel like . . . we maybe need to come up with some sort of . . . plan?’

‘Like a dastardly plan?’

‘No? Just like a normal, sensible plan.’

‘Cherry said tie him up.’

‘Cherry’s wedding has driven