Free The One Who Got Away by Caroline Overington Page B

really Molly’s childhood home, and this was my wedding.
    â€˜I’ll organise connecting rooms,’ J.J. said, ‘with views out to the ocean and interlocking doors, but still some sharing of bathrooms, because, you know, fun!’
    * * *
    The plan was for Dad to pick me up from the Bonsall precisely thirty minutes before the ceremony. Being ex-military, he was of course on time.
    â€˜Daniel Franklin, reporting for duty,’ he said, when he rang me from the foyer.
    â€˜All right, Dad. Coming.’
    Molly turned to me. She had her hair in a French knot, and her lips were wet with gloss. ‘It’s time.’
    I didn’t need to be told. I was probably the only bride in the history of the world who was ready on time. Molly picked up the bouquet. The problem of how to carry our phones was solved by cousin Lisa (she’s on Dad’s side) who had a hard-shell clutch.
    â€˜Let’s go, let’s go,’ cried J.J., making shooing motions.
    We crowded into the corridor, and began making our way towards the exits. The Bonsall has an old elevator, but it also has a wide, spiral staircase and J.J.’s idea was that I should take the stairs.
    â€˜I want you coming down like this,’ he said, with nose in the air, and fingers trailing on an imaginary balustrade behind him, ‘and then you stop halfway and you don’t move again until every eye in the foyer is on you.’
    The only face I wanted to see in the foyer was Dad’s. Given his size, he was hard to miss. He was pacing the marble when he glanced up and saw me.
    â€˜So, come on,’ I said, after a pause, ‘how do I look?’
    How much Dad could see of me under all the layers of veil I couldn’t say for certain, but he said the right thing.
    â€˜Like an angel.’
    For a moment, it looked like my big old ex-military dad was going to cry, but no, because of course Molly was also there, competing for his attention.
    â€˜Hey, hey, hey, but what about me?’ she asked, coming down from behind where I’d paused on the stairs. ‘How do I look?’
    Dad laughed. ‘Lovely,’ he said, ‘but how about me ?’ J.J. had ordered Dad into a tuxedo. Dad shoved his arms down so his hands were flat by his sides, and he began to waddle. ‘I’m a penguin!’
    â€˜A king penguin, maybe!’ said Molly, twisting her body so he could see her dress.
    â€˜Shall we go?’
    That last came from Janet. Skylarking in the foyer made her uncomfortable, although it was difficult to tell from her expression, since Janet had more Botox in her forehead than even J.J. Kim.
    â€˜Yes,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’
    I extended my hand down the stairs. Dad reached up and away we went, with my kitten heels clicking across the marble floor. From the corner of my eye, I could see some of the other guests staring. Dad was used to that. He’s a big man, and children, in particular, love to gawp at him.
    The staring in the foyer wasn’t at him, though. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, because I’m not, but J.J. Kim had done a good job.
    I looked pretty. With pearls in my ears, and with the sparkly tiara, and the big rock twinkling on my finger, and all the veils, I might even have been described as beautiful.
    Our group approached the brass-bound glass doors. Bellhops bounced forward. J.J. Kim’s plan had been for me to glide out of the foyer and straight into the waiting limousine, but that didn’t happen because the driver had stepped away for a smoke.
    â€˜Hey, hey!’ cried J.J., arms flapping.
    The driver took a final puff of his cigarette and flicked it into a flowerbed. ‘No hurry,’ he said, ‘we’re early.’
    â€˜Early, early!’ cried J.J. ‘We’re not early! We are right on schedule.’
    â€˜Settle down,’ said the driver.
    J.J. was flapping his arms like a lunatic. I laughed. What’s a