In Another Life

“Off to a wedding, are you?”

I look up from my tightly clasped hands and catch my taxi driver’s gaze in his rearview mirror. I nod, trying to appear more confident than I currently feel. “Yes, I am.” As if the formal dress and the hat weren’t a big enough clue for him…

“Very nice,” He comments as we come to another stop light. “It’s always nice to see a couple celebrating their love. Are they friends of yours?”

Somehow I manage to stifle the smile that bubbles to my lips and I nod. “Something like that.” What would he say if he knew I was going to meet up with Prince Harry? If he knew that I have no clue who is even really getting married?

“Ooh, bit tight-lipped, are we? Well as long as you aren’t set on upstaging the bride,” He chuckles to himself as we begin to drive again. At my silence in the backseat, he glances back into the mirror so he can see me properly and he looks a bit concerned. “You aren’t planning on upstaging the bride, are you?”

Here I laugh and shake my head. “No, no I’m not planning on doing that. I’m just here as a friend of a friend.”

“Well that’s lovely, dear. You look gorgeous—I’d wager a bet that says you’ll rank right up there with the bride herself today. 79 St. Charles Square, you said?” He glances down at his GPS for confirmation.

I nod, even though he isn’t looking at me. “Yes, at St. Pius X Church actually.” I glance back out my window, taking in the old buildings that tower above me. Tad would have a field day over all the gorgeous architecture. A swell of homesickness washes over me and I make a mental note to call back home tomorrow at some point.

“I went to a wedding there once myself. Years ago, of course,” He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he looks back at me again. “Beautiful church, beautiful ceremony. I’ll never forget it. That’s it just right there,” He points out his window at a spire that scrapes the sky with a massive dark cross. “That’s the bell tower.”

A wave of nerves wash over me at his announcement and my right leg starts to bounce up and down as we round about the corner and pull into a procession of cars. There are already so many people swarming about the church and milling around on the steps leading into the cathedral.

“Actually you can just let me out here,” I announce, unfastening my seat belt. “There’s no reason for you to have to wait when I’m perfectly capable of walking.” I look at the fare meter and pull out a few notes for my bill. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, my dear. Enjoy the wedding!” The cab driver waves at me as I climb out of his vehicle and shut the door behind me.

I wave back before I straighten out my overcoat and pray that none of these fashionable people will be able to tell that it’s the same thing I wore to a cousin’s wedding nearly two years ago. I reach up and touch my hat, just to make sure it’s straight, before I start to walk towards the church.

With each step that I take, my heart is hammering wildly in my chest and I half expect someone to stop me and ask me what I’m doing here. But no one pays the least bit of attention to me as I weave my way through the throng of people congregating at the bottom of the steps.

Hesitating just the slightest bit, I look back up at the huge church in front of me. It’s easily the largest chapel that I’ve ever been in and I have to take a moment to wonder just how overwhelming it would be to have to attend weekly services in this building. I can’t even imagine walking up these steep steps on a semi-regular basis.

Camera flashes startle me and I turn to my right to see a group of paparazzi snapping pictures of a young couple. I don’t recognize them, though that’s not a surprise. Raina’s the one who knows the most about pop culture—she subscribes to all of the gossip magazines, though she claims that she only purchases them to see what the celebrities are wearing.

The woman is clad in a dark purple gown with a thick furry mantle draped over her shoulders. Her hair is obstructed by an unwieldy looking hat that pulls away from her head in a dizzying spiral. She poses effortlessly with the man, her chin coming up in a delicate point and her lips turned down in an attractive pout. Like she’s been practicing this for quite a while.

I’m not sure I’d do so well in that kind of situation. I’m not the most photogenic person in the world and the majority of the time, my picture gets snapped when my eyes are closed or I have an unattractive double chin. It’s why I hound Jeanette or Raina to delete the photos where I look absolutely awful or at least untag myself on Facebook.

Jostled out of my reverie as a man brushes by me, I swallow back my anxiety and start to make my way up the damp steps carefully. It had rained last night and the steps are a bit slick. I can just see me having a graceless tumble towards the concrete if I don’t pay enough attention.

But I reach the top of the steps successfully and I start forward, the heady scent of flowers already wafting towards me out of the church. The doors are propped open and I relax a bit once the cool blast from the air conditioning touches my brow lightly.

I step into the darkened church and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. But when I can see again, I’m blown away by the interior. Everything is done up in marble and dramatic pillars. There are roses scattered everywhere and a procession of candles leading up to the front of the cathedral. Even the ends of the pews have been decorated with red and white flowers. At the front, where the bride and groom will exchange vows, a huge flowered canopy has been constructed. It’s draped in filmy white material and trailing ivy and roses yet again.

I take a few more steps forward, empowered by the fact that no one spares me a second glance. There’s a wedding photographer taking pictures of the decorations and there’s a group of people chatting quietly in the corner. The priest is dressed in his robes and who appears to be the mother of either the bride or the groom is speaking with him, clad in a modest green gown.

I slip through the double doors and into the actual church, leaving the sanctuary behind. As soon as I cross the threshold, an usher, resplendent in a double-breasted suit, materializes at my side and smiles pleasantly at me, revealing bright white teeth.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?” He inquires politely, his hands clasped behind his back formally.

“I—uh, the bride,” I manage, a bit taken aback by his appearance. Is there a certain place where I have to sit? Normally we just sit anywhere—at least, that’s how it is back home. “I’m here for the bride.”

“Very well. May I escort you to a seat?” He offers me his arm and I slowly take it, a bit confused with as to what’s going on. Can’t I just sit in the back of the church? That way I’m out of everyone’s way and I won’t draw too much attention to myself.

Thankfully he leads me to an empty pew just a few yards up, so I’m still towards the back of the church. I murmur a soft ‘thank you’ and accept the wedding program he offers me before I slip into the narrow wooden box, carefully sidestepping the cushioned kneeler. Painfully aware of the way my heels clack and seem to echo a thousand fold in the church, I creep to the end and make myself as small and unassuming as possible.

I settle in quickly, setting my clutch next to me and pulling out my mobile. I make sure it’s set on vibrate before I click through the text that I’d received from Amanda. Peering about to make sure that no one’s watching me, I answer her back as hurriedly as I can before I shove my phone back into my bag and smooth my skirt down with trembling hands.

I pick up the wedding program and study the photograph of Jasmine and Paul on the front cover. I cannot recall ever meeting this girl, even at the charity dinner. She’s pretty and I’m sure I’d remember seeing her face. Maybe I can subtly bring her up in a conversation with Olivia and see if she has anything to say about her.

“So are you with the bride or the groom?” A soft voice sounds from my left.

I look up from the program to see a tall, dark-haired man looking down at me, one hand tucked loosely in his pocket and the other hanging carelessly at his side. “I beg your pardon?” Have I been seated in the wrong section or something?

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he runs his hand through his thick mane of dark curls carelessly. They spring back into place effortlessly and for a brief moment, I envy him for his hair. How is that guys always seem to have better hair then I do? “Are you here for the bride or for the groom?”

“Oh,” I blink and then shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I-I’m here with the bride,” I reply quietly, thinking back to the handwritten note in my invitation. Except for the tiny fact that I genuinely have no idea who this Jasmine character is, I’m right where I should be. I think.

“Good,” He sinks down onto the seat next to me, but not before he flips the tails of his morning coat out. “Because for a moment I definitely thought you were here to upstage the bride and I was going to have to do something about it.”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I ask before I can stop myself. “You’re the second person today who’s said that.”

He gives me a knowing look and then reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a silver flask. “Because a gorgeous girl sitting by herself just screams dramatic interruption in the middle of their vows. I’m not saying that that wouldn’t be amusing to see, but my aunt would probably have a heart attack. And Jazzy would never let me live it down since I’m sitting next to you.”

“Jazzy?” I ask quietly, glancing behind him to see a woman glide past on the arm of an usher, dressed in an overly ornate hat and oversized gown that seems to be giving her difficulties walking.

He grimaces as he swallows down his alcohol before he offers it to me. When I shake my head, he answers. “It’s short for Jasmine. I couldn’t say her name when I was younger, so it was shortened to Jazzy. I guess being her cousin has its perks; otherwise, she would beat me senseless for still calling her that. It’s Jazz now,” He adds scornfully, taking another generous gulp.

“I see,” I nod my head slowly and play with the hem of my overcoat idly for something to do with my hands. “So you’re a Collins as well?”

“Oh god no,” He laughs, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling up. “I’m Theodore Caswell, but I go by Theo. Theodore is far too proper a name for me, I think.”

“Well Theo,” I say softly as the orchestra starts to play from the choir loft above us. “I’m Bryn Matthews.”

Theo tips his drink towards me. “Cheers, Bryn.”

A loud roar floats in through the open church doors and I turn to see the flashes of cameras reflecting off of the glass doors and hear the cat calls of ‘Your Highness’ and ‘Your Majesty’. Immediately, my cheeks heat up in a bright flush and I swivel about, unable to watch anymore.

“Well, looks like the main attractions are here,” Theo says brightly, shaking his head as he takes another drink from his flask. “And I don’t mean the bride,” He adds as if I had no idea what he was speaking about.

Somehow I manage a weak smile for his benefit before I go back to examining my hemline once more. My legs are shaking uncontrollably and my heart is hammering wildly in my chest. He’s here—he’s right outside those doors. Will he come right up to me? Will he ask me to sit with him? Should I go with him?

Before I can stop myself, I turn slightly in my seat once more and watch as a tall, slender brunette walks in, brushing her hair away from her mouth as she leans backwards to whisper into a tall blonde’s ear. I recognize them as William and Catherine, the future leaders of England, and my stomach flips anxiously inside.

I’ve never seen either of these people in the flesh before now. It’s actually rather surreal. Would Mum believe me if I told her I went to a wedding with the Royal Family? Would anyone believe me if I told them? Suddenly, I want so badly to see Olivia’s reaction if she knew I was in the same room as her precious Wills and Kate.

Catherine is so much taller than she looks in photographs and even from where I’m sitting, I can see the kindness that seems to radiate off of her as she smiles at the father of the groom, acknowledging his bow with a small incline of her head. She’s wearing the most delightful black frock that I have ever seen—all silken and lace with the sweetest bow around her waist. As my eyes travel down to her shoes, I nearly gasp aloud in delight. They are a pair of black leather Manolos that I know cost an absolute bomb. I helped Janet order a pair a few weeks ago and I nearly fainted at the sight of the total before I thanked heavens that I wasn’t the one paying her bill.

And William, William is resplendent in his lounge coat, a deep midnight blue vest and a smart, well-cut suit that hugs his lanky frame in all of the right places. His smile is brilliant and for a moment, I can see a bit of Lady Diana in it. Not that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting her obviously, but from old newsreels and photographs, the resemblance is uncanny.

“Are you alright there?”

Theo’s words break my concentration and I look back at him, suddenly aware that I’ve been staring openly. “Uh yeah,” I blink and cast one more glance back behind me. But the doorway remains empty behind the royal couple and I can’t help the faint twinges of disappointment. I’d been expecting Harry to be right behind them. “I’m fine. I just—”

“Blown away by the fairytale romance of it all?” He drawls in a lazy voice, though his twinkling eyes tell me he’s only joking. “Don’t worry, I am too.” His voice is dripping in sarcasm and he shakes his head in an almost bitter fashion.

I watch as Catherine sweeps by on William’s arm, an usher leading them to a prestigious seat up in the front of the chapel, no doubt. I look once more behind me, but he’s nowhere to be seen, so I settle back down in my seat and prepare myself for the coming ceremony.

Somewhere behind us, the orchestra is playing quietly a soft tune that seems to be played at nearly all weddings. All of the seats are being filled up rather quickly and I have to wonder just how many people have been invited to attend. Surely they don’t know every single person in this room.

There’s an excited shriek from out on the street and Theo snorts attractively before he looks at me with amused eyes. “Looks like the second main attraction is here so this party can begin.”

I turn just in time to see Harry step through the doors of the church. He’s looking over his shoulder, waving at the paparazzi and offering them the wide, crooked smile that seems to haunt me in my dreams. He’s clad in a handsome morning coat with a bright yellow vest and gorgeous black and gray pinstripes. My heart does this strange skip in my chest as I watch him remove his top hat and run his hand through his hair before he turns to the vicar and the mother of the groom.

“So sorry,” His warm voice travels in the spacious sanctuary. “Haven’t a head for timing, I’m afraid.”

The mother of the groom curtsies and shakes her head. “You’re right on time, Your Highness. Thank you for attending today.”

He says something else to her before he turns to the priest and shakes his hand firmly. But his gaze travels over the short man’s head and our eyes lock. I’m not sure what I expected to happen—maybe fireworks to start going off above us or an usher to bring me to his side.

But instead, my heart flip-flops yet again and Harry’s smile brightens as he takes note of my flushed cheeks and wide grin. And then, just as an usher materializes at his side to take him to his seat, Harry looks directly at me and winks cheekily before he turns his attention to the man before him.

“Oh, to be young and star struck for the first time,” Theo breathes in my ear as Harry walks by our pew. “You look a bit like you’ve just met your favorite movie star.”

I laugh quietly and duck my head. “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, not as bad as some people, sure. But still, pretty bad,” He teases good-naturedly just as the orchestra falls silent and an expectant hush falls over the church. “£20 on Jazz wearing something absolutely ridiculous and over the top.”

“You’re betting on your cousin’s wedding gown?” I have half a mind to laugh out loud at his revelation, but I manage to contain myself. “That’s wrong.”

Theo shrugs his shoulders and above us, the orchestra starts off. A harpist begins with an intricate melody and then the piano joins in. Everyone around us turns expectantly towards the back doors and I watch as two ushers start to walk towards the altar, drawing out a long, white runner.

It takes them only a few moments to finish up and then the double doors open to reveal a slender, young girl dressed in a lavish deep red gown. She smiles widely for the wedding photographers before she starts up the aisle, a bouquet of flowers clutched to her chest.

I lose interest rather quickly and I pass my time by looking all around me. My gaze drifts up towards the front of the chapel and I find myself scanning the sea of fascinators and hats for a familiar patch of bright hair.

My cheeks flame up as I realize what I’m doing, but I continue searching anyway. The likelihood of me even spotting him in this massive crowd is so slim. And everyone else is concentrated on the wedding party, so it’s not like I’m missing out on anything in particular.

Theo elbows me harshly in the side and leans forward to hiss in my ear. “You owe me £20!”

Immediately I turn backwards to look at him. “I never agreed to pay you—” But he cuts me off and nods behind me urgently. I turn to see Jasmine in the doorway on the arm of her father.

True to Theo’s predictions, she’s wearing an elaborate wedding gown with a full skirt and a sweeping train. She fairly shimmers under all of the lights; it’s difficult to tell where the diamonds end and Jasmine actually begins. I watch as she passes by, her veil floating along behind her, anchored to her dark curls with a staggering tiara.

As she sweeps up the aisle, I follow her progress curiously, soaking in her gown and jewelry. She looks absolutely stunning and gorgeous—I shudder to think about just how much it cost her, but from the looks of everything else around me, money is of no importance to her family.

I lose interest again as she stands with the groom in front of the priest. So I begin looking at the people in their seats, trying my best not to fidget or appear overly uninterested. Theo offers me his flask once again and after glancing around to make sure no one’s looking, I take a hasty drink and swallow back the bitter whiskey successfully.

But as I hand him his alcohol back, I turn back towards the wedding and the crowd parts just so and my gaze lands on Harry’s back. He’s standing next to Catherine, his arms crossed over his chest firmly. He’s leaning down the slightest bit in order to whisper into her ear and she nudges him playfully before they both sober up and look back towards the ceremony.

My heart does this skitter in my chest and I have to work hard to contain the girlish, coy smile that threatens to blossom across my face. Not even Theo’s interested questions can curb my enthusiasm and I spend the rest of Jasmine and Paul’s wedding daydreaming about a certain red haired boy.