Maddy’s Christmas Wedding (Little Duck Pond Cafe #37)

CHAPTER NINE

Honestly, you think you know someone inside out, and then they act in a way that takes the wind right out of your sails . . .

In the café the other night, at the Christmas tree lights switch-on, Maddy tried to explain to me why she’d kept the thing about her dad undergoing medical tests to herself, and I sort of got it. She kept saying that telling anyone outside the immediate family would make it real and she wasn’t ready to face up to the fact that she might be losing her beloved dad. I could understand that. I really could.

But it was the ‘outside the immediate family’ bit that I was struggling with. On Christmas Eve – just over a month away – we’d be husband and wife.

Didn’t I qualify as Maddy’s ‘immediate family’?

Apparently not.

The question mark over Barry’s health must have been the reason why Maddy hadn’t been herself lately. But how many times had I asked her if there was something bothering her, worrying that it might have been something I’d done to upset her? And how many times had she just brushed off my concern with a fake smile and said it was nothing?

Ever since we’d talked, I’d been trying to brush my worries off as nothing, but the conversation lingered in my mind. Even now, a few days later, it gave me a weird, slightly unsettled feeling to know that Maddy hadn’t run straight to me for comfort when she was given the news about Barry at the hospital and was so clearly upset. Didn’t she trust me enough to know that I’d help and be a shoulder for her to cry on? I knew for a fact that if something like that happened to either of my parents, Maddy would be the first person I’d turn to for support.

I’d always thought the bedrock of a good relationship that would survive through the years was openness and honesty. But everyone reacted differently in a crisis. And Maddy and I were very different people. Maybe I shouldn’t be making such a big thing about Maddy keeping this particular secret from me.

It was ironic, really. Because I was actually keeping a secret myself.

It was a good secret, though.

And I couldn’t wait to surprise Maddy with it.

*****

I hadn’t been to a pantomime for years.

Mum and Dad used to take my sister and me when we were little. But I’d always assumed that the next time I’d be cheering on Cinderella and Buttons – and booing the Ugly Sisters – would be when I had children of my own.

Last week, though, when I was passing by our local theatre, I saw all the posters advertising Aladdin, and it occurred to me that it might raise Maddy’s spirits to go to a performance together. I even recognised an old schoolmate in the poster photo. Apparently, he was playing the genie. So I went online to try and get tickets, but to my disappointment, it was already booked up.

Then I thought about Daniel Purvis.

We’d been mates at school until life took us in different directions. Would it be cheeky to phone him and ask if he could get me two tickets?

In the end, next time I was passing the theatre, I’d popped into the box office to see if they’d had any cancellations. And – bingo! – the woman behind the counter smiled and said I was in luck. There’d been a cancellation only that morning.

‘It depends how many seats you’d like,’ she added.

‘Just two.’

‘Ah. Right.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘Just that the cancellation is actually a box?’

‘A box?’ For a moment, I was confused. Then I realised. ‘Oh, a box in the theatre?’

She laughed. ‘Yes. The box seats five, though, so it would obviously be quite expensive for just two people.’ She told me the cost, which did make me wince a little. But then I thought about surprising Maddy – seeing her delight when she realised we’d have the whole box to ourselves – and my mind was made up.

What price seeing my gorgeous fiancée happy and smiling again?

I produced my credit card and made the booking. And when I left the theatre, I almost felt like I was ‘walking in the air’ with excitement, just like that boy in ‘The Snowman’ song. It was like revisiting those Christmassy feelings from childhood.

I also phoned Daniel Purvis to congratulate him on landing the role and we chatted about our lives. When he heard I was getting married at Christmas, he wanted to know the exact date and whether my fiancée would appreciate a surprise at the performance.

Laughing, I told him she definitely would. I thought maybe he’d arrange drinks for us during the interval. Something like that.

I came off the phone feeling glad I was back in touch with Daniel. He hadn’t changed and we’d arranged to meet for a pint once his busy panto season ended.

I couldn’t wait to surprise Maddy . . .

Maddy