“Of course it’s ludicrous.” I cram some more clothes into my expanding suitcase. “But it’s the only chance I’ve got, Lou. What else am I supposed to do?”
My sister perches on the end of my bed and mutters something about how I shouldn’t be chasing after a man. Honestly, he’s hardly some bloke I met in a bar, is he? And anyway, Louise is happily married to an accountant from Oxford and they live in a three-storey house with an apple tree in the garden.
“And you know what you’re doing?” Lou asks for about the hundredth time. “You’re really sure?”
I’ve recited the plan to her enough times by now. I’m going to fly to Barcelona, where Sharon said Drew was staying. And I’m going to find him and drag him back home. Back to our wedding. Back to our life together.
“Maybe I should come with you.” Lou takes her BlackBerry out of her bag.
“Amy’s coming with me,” I remind her.
She lifts her eyebrows. “That doesn’t fill me with confidence.”
Amy Hill is my best friend. And she might be a little flaky, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t any good in a crisis. She has a loud voice and lots of opinions and she’s the best person you could have fighting your corner. And she knows what to do. She always has a plan, even if she doesn’t stick to it.
“You’ll probably lose Amy the moment you step off the plane,” Lou continues. “And then she’ll turn up on the way back as if nothing happened, asking if you found Drew.”
I fix her with a look. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating her bad points?”
“Her bad points?” Lou shakes her head. “I haven’t even got started. I mean, the girl changes her hair colour as often as her knickers. Assuming she wears underwear at all.”
I force my makeup bag into the suitcase. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Are you really sure about this?” Lou ignores my question and reaches for her BlackBerry again. “I could book myself a ticket on the flight.”
I drop the skirt I’m holding. “And who would run the bakery?”
“Well, we could ask Mum.”
I laugh. “Are you joking? After a week, she’d have turned the place into a tea room for her friends from book club.”
“Oh, come on.” Lou follows me as I head into the bathroom and gather up toiletries at random. “She’d love to do it. You know she would.”
“Who’d make Dad’s lunch?” I counter. “Or watch repeats of NCIS with him in the afternoons?”
“Really?” Lou folds her arms. “Is that your argument?”
I lift my head. “It’s a valid point.” I carry my collection of tubes and bottles back to the bedroom. “Anyway, you wouldn’t leave James for a whole week.”
“I don’t know.” Louise stands in the doorway and fiddles with her blouse collar. “I’ve been thinking about a holiday for a while now.”
“This isn’t a holiday!” I shriek. “This is about finding my fiancé and bringing him home.”
Lou peers at me from under her dark lashes. “How much do you actually know about this situation? You know he’s in Barcelona, but what about this woman he’s with? Who is she?”
My body goes rigid at the thought of Drew being with another woman. The only way to keep myself sane is to picture her as somebody much fatter than me with shorter legs and frizzier hair.
“Is she someone her works with?” asks Lou.
I shake my head. “I asked his secretary. She’d never heard of her.”
“So, have you got a name?”
I close my eyes. This is the part I hate the most. Sharon told me she’s called Lexie. And women called Lexie are never fat or ugly. Why couldn’t she have some old-fashioned name like Enid or Gertrude?
“It’s Lexie something,” I tell her. “Sharon didn’t know her last name.”
“What are you going to do? Turn up in Barcelona and ask if anyone knows Drew Turner and his girlfriend Lexie Something?”
I drop the shampoo bottle and turn to stare at her.
She gasps and claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said...I’m sure she’s not—”
“Don’t worry about it,” I cut her off. She and I both know that the one thing Lexie Something does sound like is a fiancé thief.
Lou chews her bottom lip. “Have you tried calling him again?”
“Only about a million times.” I sigh. “He’s not returning my calls. Or my texts. I even emailed him this morning, and I check in with his office regularly.”
“And this came out of the blue? There weren’t any signs?”
“What are the signs of your fiancé running away from your wedding with some random woman named Lexie?” I spit. “I must have missed those.”
“Sorry.” She bites down harder on her lip. “I’m calling Mum, okay? I’m coming with you.”
“Fine. Whatever.” I snap my suitcase shut and march out of the room.
*
Amy’s hair is purple today. Is it purple? Really it’s more a sort of mauve colour, and she’s wearing it in a messy braid down one shoulder.
“Kirsty!” She flings an arm around me, wooden bracelets jangling, before turning to inspect Louise.
Next to Amy’s bizarre ra-ra skirt and jeans combo, Lou and I look like politicians.
She nods once in Lou’s direction, her eyes quickly returning to me. “God, I’m so sorry about all this crap with Drew.” She doesn’t look particularly sorry. In fact, her blue eyes are gleaming at the hint of gossip. But I suppose that’s just Amy.
The three of us are waiting at the check in desk at Heathrow airport. Lou and I got here about five minutes before Amy’s entrance. Apparently Amy was in the area doing voluntary work and so agreed to meet us at the airport.
“I was just saying to Kirsty that we should have a plan for when we get there.” Lou wheels her suitcase forwards as the queue moves.
“A plan.” Amy nods. “What sort of plan?”
“You know. A track-down-Drew-and-chop-his-balls-off kind of plan,” Lou replies.
“Ah. I’ve already prepared something.” Amy taps the side of her nose.
“We’re not actually going to chop off his balls, are we?” I look between the two of them, horrified.
“Relax!” Amy pats my back as we move to the front of the queue.
Relax? How am I supposed to relax? I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate.
This whole idea is completely bonkers, isn’t it? Bonkers and backward and bloody stupid.
Even if we do manage to find Drew somewhere in the Spanish city, he isn’t going to see me and immediately realise he made a mistake, is he? He isn’t going to come to his senses just in time to meet me at Barcelona cathedral and carry me all the way to the plane home like some Hollywood movie.
And what if he doesn’t want to see me? What if I track him down and he tells me that he’s in love with Lexie now? What if Sharon was right and he’s already cancelled our wedding?
Well, I suppose maybe there will be other weddings. Yes, that’s it! So what if I don’t get my big day at the Deblonique hotel in London? When I’ve convinced Drew that we’re meant to be together, none of that will matter.
Maybe we’ll elope. Maybe we’ll buy a villa in Spain with our own private pool and—
“Kirsty?” Louise is looking at me expectantly. “Your passport?”
“Oh, right.” I guess I hadn’t noticed we’d reached the check in desk.
As I search in my bag for my travel document, my phone’s screen lights up with a text. I grab it immediately, hoping that it might be Drew.
It isn’t. It’s a message from my mother asking where the light switch is at the bakery.
This was a terrible idea.
*
I find out what Amy’s plan is as soon as we’ve landed at Barcelona Airport and we’re boarding the coach to our hotel. Adjusting her oversized sunglasses, she produces a photograph of Drew taken about four years ago at some black tie event.
“Amy!” I grab her arm as she proceeds to show the picture to everyone on board.
“Has visto...this man?” She holds it out to the coach driver, who shakes his head.
“Where did you get this?” I grab the photo.
Amy shrugs. “Found it.”
“Found it where?”
“Well, I might have borrowed it when I came to your house yesterday.”
“And this is your big plan, is it?” I tap the picture furiously.
“Excuse me?” A thin girl with long red hair leans across me. “People are trying to get on here.”
“Sorry.” I shove the photograph into my bag and follow Lou to seats at the back of the coach.
By the time we get to our hotel, I’m too exhausted to do anything except sob into my pillow.
How did my dream wedding turn into such a nightmare?