A Day to Remember Read online

  ‘But, look.’ He shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘The main reason I came was to say that if there’s anything I can do to help – anything at all – you will let me know, won’t you?’

  I agreed that I would. I even offered him a coffee, but he had to get back. He was on his way home. So I thanked him for coming and sent him on his way and smiled at the thought that, for all the Steves and Carls in the world, there were actually some very nice men out there too. A married one, in this case, so off limits, sadly. Though even were he not married, he was way out of my league. But at least it gave me hope, which was nice in itself.

  Just a shame he couldn’t magic my limo back for me. However to do that, he’d have to have been a magician, and though he was actually quite magic to look at, he wasn’t, I thought, the real thing.

  Chapter 6

  In fact, no magic was required.

  By Wednesday tea time, with no word from Steve, I’d decided I’d have to take action. Although I still felt sure he hadn’t stolen the car, what else could I do but report it? I had the insurance to think about. But it couldn’t have been more than half an hour after I’d put the phone down to the local police station, when I heard the doorbell.

  I went out to answer it, and there on the step, finally, was my absentee driver, looking as though he’d just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and lost.

  They talk about black eyes, don’t they? But Steve’s eye – well, the skin around it, at any rate - certainly wasn’t black. It was green and purple and yellow round the edges and every other sort of colour a person’s face shouldn’t be. He also had a cut – held with a neat row of blue stitches – that curved in a line from his other cheek to his chin. I stood there, open mouthed, and gaped at him.

  ‘Good God!’ I said, feeling horribly guilty. I shouldn’t have called the police. He’d been hurt. But when? How? I gaped a bit more. ‘What on earth’s happened to you?’

  He sort of grinned (Steve’s always been one for grinning) but doing so must have hurt, because he stopped grinning and frowned. ‘Spot of bother,’ he said.

  He’d always been a man of few words. I needed more. ‘What sort of bother?’

  He grimaced. ‘Big sort of bother. Look, can I come in?’

  I ushered him into the living room, anxious for answers.

  ‘But where on earth have you been?’ I asked, following him in and noting his weary walk. ‘I’ve been worried sick!’

  He sat down carefully on the edge of the sofa. ‘Um, Birmingham.’

  ‘Birmingham? What were you doing there?’

  ‘Um,’ he said again.

  Um, indeed. It turned out that Steve had been moonlighting a bit lately, just as I’d thought. Not much, by all accounts, and he was very, very sorry. But he’d needed an extra few bob (I didn’t ask what for) and as the limo was just sitting there in the barn, it had seemed crazy not to use it when there were so many jobs out there.

  I didn’t ask him why he hadn’t asked me, because I already knew the answer. I would have said no. Since starting at college, I’d pretty much stopped dealing with that side of the limo business. We’d done plenty of evening work over the years, but once I was on my own, I really didn’t want to work week nights any more – I wanted to be there for Josh.

  Neither did I want Steve, or anyone else, doing it. It made lots of money, but Stag and Hen parties often ended up with trouble. Sick, drunken passengers and all the problems they caused. When I came to sell the limo, which would be very soon now, I wanted it clean, and in one piece.

  Steve knew all this, and had mostly respected my wishes up to now. I’d told him I’d recommend him to whoever bought the cars and the business.

  But this time, he told me, he hadn’t been able to resist. He’d taken a soon-to-be-married mate of his on a stag do. Him and seven friends. In my limo. And got involved in just the sort of brawl that had put me off those sort of jobs. Great.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. ‘I’ve been paid for the job and it’s all yours, and – ’

  I waved it away. We could sort out money later. I just wanted to know what had happened. ‘But why didn’t you call me?’

  ‘My mobile got smashed,’ he said. ‘And all my numbers were in it.’

  Smashed. Even better. Just how bad had this fight been? ‘I’m in the phone book,’ I pointed out.

  He shook his head. ‘Not in Birmingham, you aren’t.’

  ‘Come on, Steve. You could have found my number if you’d wanted to. Ever heard of directory enquiries?’

  He spread his hands and then rubbed one of them across his forehead. There was a cut on that too. He sighed. ‘Look, the thing is, I was in hospital overnight –’

  ‘I’m not surprised!’

  ‘And then, well, I figured it wouldn’t be a problem because I could get it all sorted and be back and everything and…erm…well…’

  ‘Well, what?’

  He looked sheepish.

  ‘Well, without you noticing, I suppose.’

  I blinked at him. ‘Are you mad? How on earth did you think I wouldn’t notice?’

  ‘Well, the limo’s not booked out till next weekend, so I thought maybe –’

  ‘That I wouldn’t spot that it wasn’t actually there last Saturday?’

  ‘You didn’t need it last Saturday. I didn’t think you’d worry –’

  Which might have been true. If I’d simply not seen it, I would probably have thought he was off getting something on it fixed, just as I’d suggested to Rhys. If I hadn’t spoken to Rhys and found out it had been absent overnight I might not have given it another thought. Not till I needed it, at any rate. Which had been on Saturday. What had he been thinking?

  ‘But I did need you,’ I pointed out. ‘You were supposed to be doing a job for me on Saturday evening. Or had you forgotten?’

  He looked confused for a few moments. Then he groaned. ‘God. Yes. There was that late booking, wasn’t there? The anniversary do.’ He groaned again. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Jo, but –’

  I was becoming less sympathetic by the minute. ‘Never mind about that,’ I snapped, thinking he could groan all he liked. That was strictly his problem. I was busy with mine. ‘So where’s the car now?’ I asked. ‘Back in the barn?’

  ‘Er, no. It’s still in Birmingham,’ he said.

  Chapter 7

  This was all I needed. ‘Still in Birmingham?’

  ‘Er…yes,’ said Steve. ‘But don’t worry,’ He held up a hand, which I guess was supposed to reassure me. It didn’t. ‘It’s being fixed up.’

  ‘Fixed up? You mean the car’s damaged too? Great. So just how bad is it, for God’s sake?’

  ‘Oh, nothing that can’t be sorted.’ I’ll give him sorted, I thought. He shifted on the sofa and looked very uncomfortable. ‘But that’s the point. That’s why I came. It’s…er… going to take a bit longer than I thought.’

  Oh, brilliant. ‘How long?’

  ‘About a week or so.’

  ‘A week or so? What? But what about the wedding at the weekend? How am I supposed to do that with no limo?’

  I was fuming by now. Forget the one black eye. I felt like giving him a pair.

  But I didn’t, because at that moment, Josh came in. It would have set a bad example. Josh stood there and did a bit of gaping himself.

  ‘Hello, mate,’ said Steve, looking grateful for the diversion. He pointed to Josh’s plaster. ‘What happened to you, then?’

  ‘Broke my wrist,’ said Josh proudly. ‘Skateboarding.’ He pointed with his good arm. ‘What happened to you?‘

  ‘Nothing he didn’t deserve!’ I snapped. I glared at Steve again. ‘Not least because if you had been where you were supposed to be on Saturday night, that is, at work, Josh would have been where HE was supposed to be. That is, at home, and not doing loop- the-flipping-loops in the dark.’

  ‘I wasn’t doing loop-the-loops,’ Josh said, looking pained. ‘I tol
d you. I was doing an Ollie. There’s a difference.’

  ‘But your wrist,’ I pointed out, ‘is broken just the same.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Steve, rising. ‘Think it’s time I went.’

  I stood up as well. ‘And how exactly am I going to do this wedding on Saturday without a car?’

  He jabbed a thumb towards his chest, obviously happier now he could say something positive. ‘Don’t worry. You’ve still got me. All you need to do is ask around, borrow some wheels, and we’re sorted.’

  I glared at him some more. I was fed up with people telling me things were sorted when they weren’t. ‘Oh, yeah, right,’ I said. ‘Just like that? In mid June? And besides, do you honestly think I’m going to let you do it looking like that? You’d give the bridesmaids the vapours.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said, rubbing his face carefully. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘You should take a look in the mirror,’ I told him irritably. ‘You look like you’ve just walked off the set of a slasher movie. Fine advert for us that would be.’

  Though, I thought, If I never did another wedding I wouldn’t care much. Including my own. I would definitely do that on foot. Not that there was much chance of that ever happening. You didn’t meet a lot of men on the floristry course. Not ones that were interested in women, anyway. But I needed to get my limo back because selling it was vital to my future plans.

  ‘Keep Saturday afternoon free anyway,’ I told him. ‘The way my luck’s going this week, I might not have any choice.’

  ‘Look,’ he said again. ‘I’m really, really sorry, Jo.’

  And, as he stood there, I realised there was no point in ranting. It was done. He was back. Everything would get sorted. I was fully insured. And I did believe him when he said he was sorry.

  Once he’d gone, I started making some calls. Though I knew it was going to be difficult, I’d surely find someone to do the job for me. I knew most of the other wedding car firms in Cardiff, and mostly we liked to help each other out.

  By about the fifteenth phone call, however, I was beginning to feel much less charitable towards Steve. In fact, I was beginning to panic.

  ‘Sorry love,’ said the latest on my list – an old friend of my ex’s who ran a business like ours up in mid-Wales. ‘But you know what it’s like. It’s June. You’d probably have more luck trying to borrow a jet plane right now.’

  I thought I’d quite like to hire a jet plane. And a nice friendly pilot who’d take me away from Cardiff and plonk me down somewhere hot and sunny. A place where they didn’t have cars. Or stag nights. Or weddings, come to that. It was one of the busiest wedding weekends in the calendar. He was right. Every car from here to Carmarthen would be booked.

  I put down the phone and slapped shut my address book. ‘God,’ I said, sighing, to no-one in particular. ‘What on earth am I going to do?’

  Josh, who had been sitting at the table all this time, working erratically on his geography coursework, put down his ruler and looked up.

  ‘Mum,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you just ask Auntie Jan?’

  I shook my head. I’d already thought of my sister. ‘Because she’s going off on holiday on Saturday, remember? Besides, her muddy old 4x4 would hardly look the part, would it? This is a posh wedding, so it needs a posh car. That’s what they’ve paid for so that’s what I’ve got to find. ’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t thought about that.’ He picked his ruler up again. Then he flapped it at me suddenly. ‘I know! Why don’t you ring that man and ask him?’

  I drained my mug of cold coffee. ‘What man?’

  ‘The man from the hospital. You know. The bee man. The one who smashed up our car.’

  I didn’t understand. ‘Him? Why ring him? What could he do?’

  Bring me more flowers, maybe. That would be nice. No-one had bought me flowers in such a long time. I worked with them all day, but was never given them. And even if it was just a peace offering from nice, polite man, it was still, well, nice. I could see that by now Josh was looking at me in the way fifteen-year-old boys often look at their mothers. As if my brain was past its sell-by date. He was probably right. ‘Durr, Mum. Ask him if you can borrow his car. He did say to let him know if there was anything he could do, didn’t he?’

  ‘His car?’ I shook my head. ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘What’s silly about it? It’s a big posh Mercedes. And he owes you one, doesn’t he?’

  That was true. But I shook my head again. ‘No,’ I said. ‘You just can’t ask to borrow complete strangers’ cars. When he asked if there was anything he could do to help, I doubt that was what he had in mind.’

  Josh shrugged. ‘Whatever. Just a thought, that’s all. When’s tea ready, Mum? I’m starving.’

  I thought about what Josh had said all through dinner. And the more I thought about it, the more crazy it seemed. But when it got to nine thirty and I’d run out of ideas, I wondered if maybe Josh was right. Mr Williams – Matt - had said he wanted to help. What harm could it do just to ask him? It might be a bit cheeky, but he did owe me one. And desperate problems called for desperate measures. Dare I call him? Yes, I thought. I must.

  Chapter 8

  It took me till Thursday to pluck up the courage to make the call.

  But a car was a car and I needed one badly. For less than three hours, that was all. All I’d need then was a driver and I could surely find a driver. If I couldn’t, I’d just have to take some make up along and have horror-movie Steve do it.

  I called from college during our mid-morning break. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He could only say no.

  This time, he answered the phone himself. He sounded a bit out of breath.

  ‘Mr Williams?’ I could already feel myself blushing again. ‘It’s…er… Jo Morgan here. I’m so sorry to bother you, but –’

  ‘Hello!’ he said brightly. ‘And, please, I told you, it’s not Mr Williams. It’s Matt.’

  ‘Er…sorry. Matt.’

  ‘That’s better. So. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Um, well, you know you said on Tuesday to let you know if there was anything you could do? Well, it’s just that there is. I…er… wondered if I could ask you a favour?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Oh, this was just so embarrassing. I took a deep breath. ‘Um, is there any chance I could borrow your car?’

  ‘Borrow it? You mean you need a lift somewhere? When?’

  ‘Um, not exactly a lift, as such. It’s a little more complicated than that.’

  And so I told him. I explained about the missing limo, and Steve’s troubles in Birmingham and about the problem I had with the wedding on Saturday. And how I’d tried absolutely everywhere to find another limo. And how I’d failed. How Josh had reminded me that he’d said how anxious he had been to make amends after the accident and also that he had exactly the right kind of car. And how it wouldn’t be any problem because I could find a driver and make the additions to our insurance and how I promised I’d get it back to him in one piece. By the time I’d finished speaking I was out of breath.

  He laughed. A big booming laugh. ‘Your life,’ he remarked, once he’d finally finished laughing, ‘sounds more dramatic than an episode of EastEnders!’

  ‘It certainly feels like that at the moment,’ I admitted. ‘And I know it’s a terrible cheek to ask you, but I’ve got to the point where I don’t know quite who else to ask.’

  ‘Well,’ he answered, with encouraging brightness. ‘I’m very glad you did. Saturday, you say? Can’t see any problem with that. I guess I’d better double check the insurance situation, but –’

  ‘Oh, of course,’ I said quickly. ‘Yes, fine.’

  ‘But I can’t see why not. Hey, you can borrow me as well, if you like.’

  ‘Oh, no. Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be able to find a driver from somewhere.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t sound that likely, from what you’ve been saying. In any case, better if
I drive it, don’t you think? Less complicated all round.’

  I blushed again. ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you –‘

  ‘Unless, of course, there’s an unexpected outbreak of killer bees.’

  I laughed myself, then. ‘I’m sure there won’t be. But look, are you absolutely sure? This feels like a terrible cheek –’

  ‘It isn’t,’ he said firmly. ‘I have nothing on on Saturday except grouting and tiling. All of which is getting very boring and can wait.’

  I wasn’t sure what his wife would have to say about that. Which made me feel even more guilty about it. What on earth had possessed me?

  Necessity, I thought. So I mustn’t be silly. ‘One thing,’ I said. ‘Do you have a clean licence?’

  Another booming laugh came down the phone line to my ear. ‘Difficult for you to believe, I know,’ he said. ‘But incredibly, yes. Yes, I do.’

  *

  ‘Wow,’ said Jan. ‘That’s amazing!’ She gave me a hug. ‘Oh, you’re so clever!’

  My sister and her family were off to Pembroke on holiday shortly, so she’d come over to leave me her house keys so I could feed her cats and her hamsters and her goldfish and her plants, hopefully without killing off too many of them. She’d also come to take me to college.

  It was Friday, and the day of my final presentation. And the huge period floral arrangement I’d designed for it wasn’t something I could easily take on the bus. Not without causing a public nuisance and possibly gouging out a few eyes.

  I picked it up carefully and walked slowly towards the open front door.

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ I said wryly. ‘Knackered, for sure. I was up till two last night creating this.’

  Jan held the door for me then followed me down the path to her car. ‘But you’ve got everything sorted? With Steve and the limo and the wedding booking and everything?’

  I waited while she opened the back door of the car and shunted a pile of coats, boots and blankets out of the way. ‘In a manner of speaking,’ I said. ‘We still don’t have the limo back, and Steve looks like something out of the Addams family, so he’s no use to me. But, yes, as it happens, I have.’