James didnt turn up for his own wedding, then sent a photo with some other woman.
Seriously? Pink? For a wedding? Rachel nearly knocked her latte over when she saw Emily.
Whats wrong with it? Emily swirled in front of the mirror in the fitting room, admiring her powderblue dress. Its romantic.
Emily, youre thirtytwo! Pink is for teenagers.
Who said? Emily turned to Rachel. I want to feel like a princess. I only get married once, so Ill have my say.
Rachel sighed, took a sip.
Fine, its your wedding, your choice. But Id have gone ivory it suits you better.
The sales assistant, holding a third gown, waited patiently.
Ladies, would you like to try this one? Very elegant, with a train.
Lets do it, Emily nodded.
She changed, stepped out. The dress was stunning straight cut, offtheshoulder, a long train, exactly the ivory Rachel had suggested.
Wow! Rachel spun around Emily. Now thats a queen.
Emily stared at her reflection; the dress fit like a glove.
James will love it?
Of course! Hows he doing? Nervous about the big day?
Emily shrugged, eyeing the embroidery on the bodice.
I dont know. Hes been oddly quiet this past week.
Men always get jittery before a wedding, Rachel soothed. Its normal theyre scared of the responsibility.
Probably.
Emily bought the ivory dress. The assistant packed it in a large box, and the two friends left the boutique.
Everything sorted? Rachel asked as they settled in a café opposite the shop. Restaurant booked, rings purchased?
Yes, all set. The wedding is the day after tomorrow, Saturday. The venue is booked, the menu approved, the band hired.
Guests confirmed?
Almost everyone. About eighty people.
Rachel whistled.
Wow, youre really going all out.
My mum insisted. She says, If youre getting married, do it with a bang. Shes more excited than I am.
What about Jamess parents?
Emily grimaced.
His mum will be there. His dad said no If he makes his own decisions, hell have to live with the consequences, he said.
Odd.
Theyve got a complicated relationship; Im staying out of it.
They finished their coffee, and Rachel went off on her errands while Emily headed home. The flat was quiet; mum was at work, dad tinkering in the garage.
Emily grabbed her phone, texted James: *Bought the dress its gorgeous! Cant wait for Saturday.*
Twenty minutes later a reply: *Fine.*
Just one word. Emily frowned. James was never chatty, but lately hed become downright silent. She called him.
Hello? a tired voice answered.
Hey, its me. How are you?
Fine.
James, whats up? Youve been off for a week.
Silence, then a deep breath.
Listen, Emily, I need to tell you something.
Her heart leapt.
What?
Not over the phone. Meet?
When?
Tomorrow, by the fountain in the park, sixp.m.
Alright, Emily said, feeling a chill creep up her spine. See you then.
She hung up, phone clenched in her hand on the sofa. What could he possibly want? Cancel the wedding? Theyd been together three years, planned everything, bought the rings, booked the venue.
That evening her mum called.
Emily, did you get the dress?
Yes, Mum, its gorgeous.
Can I see it?
Well have a look tomorrow. Im exhausted, Im off to bed.
Alright, love. Get some sleep. The biggest day of your life is just two days away!
Emily put the phone down, lay back, still in her nightgown, thinking about the importance of the day if James didnt bail.
The next morning she arrived at the park fifteen minutes early, perched on a bench by the fountain, watching the water ripple. Couples strolled, children chased each other, cyclists whizzed by a perfectly ordinary summer evening.
At six sharp James appeared, tall, darkhaired, in jeans and a shirt, his face solemn, almost grim.
Hi, he said, sitting down.
Hey. What did you want to say?
He stared at the fountain, then turned to her.
Emily, I dont know how to put this
Just say it.
Im not sure Im ready for the wedding.
Emily felt the floor drop.
What?
I need time to think. Maybe we should postpone?
Postpone? Emilys voice trembled. The wedding is in two days! The guests are booked, the venue paid for!
I know, but
But what?! Emily snapped, standing. James, what are you talking about? Weve been together three years! Weve planned everything!
James also stood, hands in his pockets.
Sorry. I just cant do it right now.
Why?
I cant explain. I just cant.
Emily stared, disbelief etched on her face.
Are you joking? Is this a prank?
No.
Then whats happening? Explain!
James shook his head.
Not now. I need to sort myself out.
He turned and walked away. Emily stood frozen, wondering if shed just dreamed a nightmare.
She grabbed her phone, dialed Rachel.
Rachel, hes calling off the wedding!
Who? James?!
Yes! Just now! He says hes not sure, needs time!
That prat! Rachel swore. Where are you?
At the park, by the fountain.
Stay put, Im on my way.
Rachel arrived half an hour later, threw her arms around Emily, who burst into tears.
What do I do? The wedding is in two days!
Cancel it, Rachel said firmly. Call the restaurant, pull the plug.
But the guests
Ill text everyone. Say its cancelled for technical reasons.
What about the parents?
Tell them the truth. The groom ran off it happens.
They sat on the bench until dusk, then Rachel drove Emily home.
Emilys mum opened the door, saw her daughters tearstreaked face, and instantly understood.
Whats happened?
James called off the wedding.
Mum went pale.
How?
He said he isnt sure, needs time.
Dad emerged from the garage.
What do you mean, called off? The day before the wedding?
Exactly, Dad.
He cursed, something he rarely did.
Where is he? Ill talk to him!
No, dont. I just want to sleep.
Emily retreated to her room, lay down, the emptiness more palpable than the tears.
The next morning mum brought tea.
Emily, get up. We need to call the guests, cancel everything.
I cant.
You can. Ill be with you.
Together they sat at the kitchen table, Emily phoning each guest, explaining the cancellation. Some were sympathetic, some angry, some just silent.
Dad went to the restaurant to sort out the deposit. He returned looking grim.
They wont return the money. Thats the contract.
How much did we lose? Mum asked.
Two thousand pounds.
Emily covered her face with her hands. Two thousand pounds a year of savings gone.
Im sorry, she whispered.
Dont apologise, Dad said, ruffling her hair. Youre alive and well. Moneys just money.
Saturday arrived, the day the wedding should have been. Emily woke early, stared at the ivory dress hanging in the wardrobe, tears welling again.
Her phone buzzed. A message from James. She opened it, heart skipping a beat. It was a photo: James in a tuxedo, arm linked with a woman in a white dress, both smiling, holding a red folder in a registry office. Caption read: *Sorry, I married her. Ive always loved her. I just never had the courage to admit it. Forgive me.*
Emily stared, unable to process. Hed married someone else on the very day they were supposed to tie the knot.
She bolted to the bathroom, feeling her world turn inside out. Mum burst in, horrified at the sight.
Emily! Whats happening?
Emily handed over the phone. Mums face twisted with fury.
This this bastard! she spat.
Dont say anything, Emily whispered, sitting on the floor, numb.
Mum sat beside her, hugging tightly.
Hes not your fault. Hes a scoundrel.
Emily said nothing.
An hour later Rachel arrived, eyes wide at the photo.
Ill kill him! Where does he live?
I dont know, Emily replied, pulling a blanket around herself. He rented a flat, never mentioned the address.
Rachel plopped down beside her.
Did you ever meet his friends?
No. He said he had none.
What about his mum?
One time. She was odd, always staring at him like she was scared.
Rachel shook her head.
It sounds like he kept this other girl hidden all along. Why bother with you?
Emily could barely breathe.
A week passed. Emily ate little, stayed in bed, stared at the ceiling. Mum kept urging her to eat, but Emily just shook her head.
Rachel visited daily, bringing fruit, trying to lift the gloom.
On the eighth day a stranger called.
Emily?
Yes?
My name is Lydia Antonova. Im Jamess mother.
Emily sat up.
I need to meet you. Its important.
Why?
Because you deserve the truth.
They met again at the park, by the fountain. Lydia was a short, plump woman in her sixties, tired eyes, sad smile.
Thank you for coming, she said, wiping a tear.
What do you want to tell me?
Lydia pulled a handkerchief from her bag, dabbed her eyes.
James isnt who he pretends to be. Hes a con artist. He dates women, plans weddings, then marries someone else and pockets the money.
Emily stared.
Dont you understand?
Hes done this three times before you. Youre the fourth.
The girl in the photo?
An actress. He hires her for a fake registry photo. Theres no real marriage.
Emily felt a cold wash over her.
Youre kidding?
No. He even rigs the restaurant to get a refund on half the payment.
Why tell me this now?
Im tired of keeping quiet. Im ashamed of my son, but youre a good girl, and Im sorry.
Lydia handed Emily a sheet of paper. These are the addresses of the other women he duped. Maybe you can do something together.
Emily tucked it into her bag and left.
Back home she told her parents. Dads face flushed with rage.
Im going to the police!
Dont. He has no paper trail. Its his word against ours.
Still fraud!
Mum took the list.
What about these other women? Maybe they want justice too?
Emily dialed the first number.
Hello? a woman answered.
This is Emily. Did you date James Saville?
Silence.
How did you know?
His mother gave me your number. I was also his bride.
Me too? the voice sharpened. Im not alone.
Four of us now. Can we meet?
Sure, come over.
Emily met the three other women. All stories matched: twoyear relationships, wedding plans, groom vanishing at the last minute, photos of a fake ceremony, thousands lost.
I lost £1,500, said Marina.
£2,000 for me, added Lena.
£1,800, sighed Oksana.
£2,000, Emily confessed.
They gathered in a café, four scorned brides, pondering their next move.
I went to the police, they refused to open a case. He never took the money directly.
Maybe we write to the paper? suggested Lena. Expose him.
Will that help? Oksana shook her head. Hell just change his name and keep going.
Emily thought, then said, What if we all confront him together? Demand the money back, or well go public.
The others glanced at each other, then nodded.
Lydia gave them Jamess flat address. That evening the four women knocked on his door.
What do you want? James asked, eyes widening.
Can we come in? Marina said, calmly. Or should we shout so the neighbours hear what you do?
He stepped aside, letting them in. They gathered around the shabby living room.
Listen, Marina began, we know everything. We have proof.
What proof? James tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.
Your mothers testimony, Emily said, and the list of victims.
Jamess face turned as white as the sheets.
She wont she wont dare.
She will, Rachel interjected. Shes already spoken to the police, and shell do it again.
James sank onto the sofa, covering his face.
What do you want? he whispered.
We want our money back, Marina said flatly. All of it.
I dont have that much! he protested.
Find it, Lena said. Or we go to the tabloids, post it online, warn every future bride.
He stared at them, panic flickering in his eyes.
One month, Emily said. Give us £7,300 in total. If not, well make sure the whole world knows who you are.
Its impossible! he shouted.
Not if youve already stolen that much, Oksana replied. Youve got savings somewhere.
He looked up, fear and anger mixing.
Alright. A month.
They left his flat, the night air chilling their cheeks.
Do you think hell pay? Rachel asked as they walked back to the car.
Sure, Marina said confidently. Hes scared of being exposed.
A month later James called each of them weekly, saying he was gathering the cash. At the end of the month he invited the four women to meet again.
He handed each a envelope.
Heres what I owe you. Count it.
They opened them, counted, and the sum matched.
Now leave us alone, Marina warned. And never do this again, or well really go public.
James nodded, eyes downcast.
Emily returned home with the envelope, gave the money to her parents.
Heres what we lost on the wedding.
Mum looked at the cash, then at Emily.
How did you manage that?
We banded together. All the other brides helped.
Dad hugged her.
Proud of you.
Emily finally smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks.
Six months later she landed a new job, made new friends, and the scar from Jamess betrayal dulled, though it never vanished entirely.
One evening her mothers phone rang.
Emily, thank you, said Lydia, Jamess mother. Hes got a proper job now, honest work. He swore hell never cheat again.
Really? Emily asked.
Yes. You taught him a lesson.
Emily hung up, thinking maybe, just maybe, the whole mess had some purpose.
She never wore the ivory dress. She gave it to a friend who was actually getting married, and she attended that wedding, cheering for someone elses happiness.
As her mother always said, her own happiness was still ahead just had to be a bit more cautious about glittering promises.
