My Farcical Marriage

Today is the first anniversary of our wedding. I remember it so well. Entering the Church; walking down the aisle; our short journey to the reception; the rich chocolate fudge cake with Scottish black raspberries and Jersey cream and changing ready for our departure on the honeymoon, so carefully planned. Jack’s idea of heaven, my idea of hell. Two days enjoying the comfort of a wonderful hotel in Paris followed by two weeks on a narrow-boat. The thought of sleeping on a boat filled me with horror. Not my idea of fun, nor is it my idea of a perfect honeymoon.

The minutes passed slowly as I waited in our suite. “We will miss the plane,” I thought.

The party was in full swing as I descended the ornate staircase. A woman’s laughter echoed around the hall as she disappeared into a small lounge, intent upon seeking privacy with her companion. I froze as the sound of my husband’s voice drifted through the open door.

“Jack,” I muttered, “what are you up to now?”

Quietly, I slipped through the open door. The pause was brief, shocked gasp quiet. My husband of only four hours and best friend from university were making love on a beautiful cream leather chair set before an antique desk. “That was damn quick,” I thought as I tossed their discarded garments through the open window. The pot of freshly brewed coffee was enticing. Jack screamed, tossing Sophia onto the floor when I poured it over his prized manhood.

Strong arms caught me as I slid to the floor. It was dusk when I awakened. His lips brushed mine; I gasped as heat coursed through my veins. “Gorgeous,” I thought, “and sexy as hell.” Quietly, he slipped out of the room. Finally, I realised what I’d been missing: I now know what it is to desire a man so strongly that all other thoughts leave my mind.

The sound of guests gossiping around the pool intruded on my befuddled brain. An idea took form: a mini tidal wave engulfed the paved terrace as my husband’s leather suitcase dropped into the pool. Our guests enjoyed the spectacle of his going away outfit: a designer suit, silk shirt and tie danced in the breeze when they were caught by the branches of a weeping willow.

“No,” Jack yelled as I tossed his handmade kid leather shoes over the balcony. I sighed contentedly as they sank beneath the waves.

The engine of his classic sports car growled. Jack’s precious Morgan barely missed the barriers as I raced out of the hotel car park. I shot through all the traffic lights on my journey home, sniping peevishly, “Darling, today it’s red for go!” A giggle escaped as I tossed the mask aside. “Untidy,” I whispered when I entered my home.

Suitcases were dropped haphazardly into his car. Five minutes later his precious Morgan sat in the no parking zone near his apartment in St John’s Square.

Did I enjoy my honeymoon? Hell yes! Bottles of red wine and freshly cooked food delivered each day from a restaurant; and lots of rich dark chocolate. Not forgetting frequent visits from my guest.

I giggled when the doorbell rang and Jack yelled, “Helen, where is my car?”

“Hope you enjoyed your honeymoon cos I sure as hell enjoyed mine.”

When a hiccup escaped, Jack irascibly hissed, “You are drunk!”

“Not yet, but I’m getting there. A tatty old car blocked my driveway, so I abandoned it in St John’s Square. Your belongings were inside, keys in the ignition, engine still running when the taxi picked me up. Possibly, just possibly, she’s now a cube of scrap metal. Maybe they’ll forgive you as I did place a note on the dashboard saying: ‘On my honeymoon’.”

I giggled, refilling the wine glass as I reached for a packet of salty crisps and the box of dark chocolates. “This is my idea of heaven. Sweetheart, it’s over: our marriage was annulled yesterday. You will be pleased to know that an old friend of yours offered his services, free of charge.”

“I find that hard to believe.” The pause was brief. I could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain. “Helen, what services did Adam offer?”

The giggle escaped. “Use your imagination. Oh, wait! You don’t have one.”

Colleagues were surprised by the happy smile as I sauntered into my office. Andy less so when I dropped my resignation onto his desk.

“Our new boss confirmed your promotion this morning. Helen, the offer is too good to refuse.”

“Oh come on, Andy, be sensible. You attended our farcical wedding, and are fully aware of the outcome, and Sophia’s identity.”

My eyes closed when Adam and his daughter made their presence known. Andy sighed when I shrugged, acknowledging his unspoken question.

“Helen resigned just a few minutes ago.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, Ms James, but didn’t you renew your contract prior to the wedding.”

Adam glanced at the midnight blue envelope when it landed on Andy’s desk, “Declined.”

“Sophia, join Jack. Interview the remaining female staff. It seems the onus for interviewing Ellen has fallen on my shoulders.”

Sophia’s father winced when my foot connected with his daughter’s chin. “Kick boxing champion,” I sniped peevishly when her chin turned a wonderful shade of blue.

My trusty mini raced towards the barrier. Miraculously it opened, but only seconds before I shot through the narrow exit.

I booted up my brand-new computer and quietly said, “Sadly, party time is over.”

A new website was up and running the following day; jobs flowed in from clients, old and new. The ring of my doorbell was unexpected, as was the man waiting none too patiently in the pouring rain.

“We have unfinished business,” he hissed when I moved aside allowing him to enter my tiny hall.

“Temper,” I snapped. “Too used to getting your own way but it won’t work with me.”

“Really,” he murmured, moving closer. “I have no recollection of you saying no!”

I didn’t feel comfortable with the smug smile when I claimed to have an excellent job; hours to suit, and well paid.

“You didn’t read the small print, did you? Your contract is with a subsidiary of the San Star Group, signed, sealed and watertight. Said contract involves a move to my island. We leave this evening.”

A large removal van stopped by the drive as he opened the door. “Deal with the packing, and take the container to Freedom.” He popped the harness onto Boss, my black and white Jack Russell Terrier pup, who trotted happily by his side.

“Unfaithful pooch,” I snapped when Boss clambered, with a little help from Adam, onto the plush seat and settled down happily for a snooze.

“Get in,” he snarled.

“Are you always so irascible?”

“You have no idea what you are up against. I’m not a patient man, Helen, and I always get what I want.” The glance was fleeting, as was the smile. “We have an engagement in four hours.”

“Fabulous,” I whispered, as he slipped the ring onto my finger. He smiled as I sauntered into the bedroom. The dress and shoes were tossed aside; thankfully before he dropped me into the huge tub. Did I enjoy the striptease? Hell yes. “Oh, my goodness,” I said as he tossed his clothing onto the chair.

“Beautiful,” he quietly claimed, checking out the ivory silk dress and soft kid leather sandals. “Time to go.”

Adam handed the pen to me. “Sign,” he whispered, hoarsely. I sighed when the polite cough ended our close embrace and passionate kiss.

“Wow, a private jet,” I thought as we boarded the sleek modern aircraft. Boss settled down as the jet quickly rose above the clouds, and my husband tossed me none too gently onto the bed.

As the jet came into land, Adam placed a fur wrap around my shoulders and fitted the fleece dog coat and tiny shoes.

“It’s freezing,” I muttered. “Why the hell do you live on such a cold inhospitable island?”

“Privacy, Lady Donnelley. Welcome to your new home.”

Published by llamamemeg

I love creating stories; in many ways since I returned to the UK in 2015, it has taken over my life. Until recently, I ran a blog covering my journey through research through writing/editing/publishing my first novel but I discovered that one my somewhat unusual short stories had been "plagarised", I deleted all the content and closed the blog. Something I now regret but regrets are pointless. I recently changed the Eldern Journals from three full length novels to six shorter novels. The books have been extensively revised and I have compiled a book of short stories, title: How Bizarre. Hopefully, when I manage to sus out how to publish my books on KDP, the books should be published before the end of 2022. Getting back into writing articles on my website may take a little longer as it has been so long since I last visited the site. TTFN, for now.

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