The Accidental Wedding
Summer was sweltering, and Lauren was strolling around her flat in a bikini. Why not? She lived alone, after allwhen you fancy a wander in your swimwear, you jolly well do it. Especially now that her long-awaited holiday had arrived. If her two best mates, Emily and Charlotte, could wrangle a week of unpaid leave from their boss, theyd all be off to the seaside in a flash.
One morning, Lauren shuffled into the kitchen to put the kettle on when she suddenly felt eyes on her. She glanced across the streetabout twenty metres awayand spotted a middle-aged man watching her intently from his balcony. Not exactly naked, but still, she instinctively grabbed a tea towel for cover. From that day on, the stranger tracked her every move. So much for carefree loungingnow she had to wear a dressing gown in that stifling heat. Bloody nuisance, really, especially with no aircon in the kitchen.
One day, she marched outside and looked up at the fifth floor of the opposite building. Sure enough, there he was. Lauren waved him over. He pointed at himself, as if to say, *Me?* She nodded. Who else?
He appeared surprisingly fasta bit portly, with curly hair, though a rather impressive bald patch was making itself known.
*Blimey*, Lauren thought. *Hes even worse in person than through the window.*
“Alright?” He gave a small, awkward nod.
“Alright,” she said. “Whyve you been staring at me?”
“Straight to first-name terms, are we?” He blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness.
“Well, after seeing me in a bikini, youre practically obligated to marry me.”
“Wouldnt say no,” he replied with a shrug.
“When shall we file the paperwork, then?” she deadpanned.
“How about now? Got my passport right here.” He patted the pocket of his sleeveless jumper and gave her a look. Lauren checked her handbag.
“Got mine too.”
“Shall we?”
“Suppose so,” she sighed, as if this were the most reasonable decision in the world.
*What on earth am I doing?* she wondered in the cab, but she didnt turn back. They submitted the forms, and it was only at the registry office they finally exchanged names. The manGeoffrey. Geoffrey Winston Montgomery.
“Where to now?” he asked. “Shame my cars in the garage, but I didnt exactly plan”
“Home. And dont look so hopefulno flowers, no courting. We skip straight to the grown-up marriage bit.”
“Have you lost the plot?!” Emily and Charlotte shrieked when Lauren broke the news of her impending wedding. “Hes a stranger! And not exactly Prince Charming!”
“Oh, relax. We can always withdraw the application.”
“And what about *him*? Hell be heartbroken!”
“His problem. Shouldnt gawk at strange women.”
“Youre single, not strange. Lauren, you dont even *like* him!”
“And hows *your* love marriage working out?”
“I hate him now.”
“Exactly. I dont fancy Geoffrey now, but who knows? Maybe Ill grow to need him.”
Meanwhile, Geoffrey kept watching his future wife, baffled by her odd behaviourthough he wasnt much better. He barely knew her, yet here he was, ready to follow her to the ends of the earth. All because she was stunning. He also noticed Lauren had started avoiding the kitchen. So he hid behind the curtains, spying like a proper creep. And it paid off.
One day, he spotted her lugging a massive suitcase before disappearing round the corner.
*Ah. Thats why shes keeping me at arms lengthone last fling before marriage. Well, lets see if shes worth it.*
He threw on some clothes, stuffed a wad of cash into his chinos (no time for packing), and raced to Heathrow. He spotted Lauren immediately, flanked by her two friends. They flew to Brighton; Geoffrey booked the next flight.
*Right. Now what? A million places she could be. This is daft.*
He sat glumly on the pebbly beach, wondering why hed bothereduntil he glimpsed a familiar bikini.
*No way. Lauren!*
*Jackpot.*
The girls were merrily sipping rosé, completely oblivious. Lauren hadnt a clue her fiancé was onto her.
Geoffrey checked into their hoteleasy enoughand kept watch. No suspicious men, just harmless fun. He relaxed. Then, one day, they collided on the street. Lauren, ever the tactician, struck first.
“So *this* is how you prepare for marriage? Gallivanting at the seaside?”
“Pot, kettle. Youre here too.”
“I thought youd vanished, so I came alone.”
“I saw you sneaking off with a suitcase. Had to follow.”
“Waityouve been *stalking* me?”
“As if. Just a pre-wedding break.”
“Same. Ever been married?”
“Once.”
“Kids?”
“Nah. You?”
“Divorced. No kids either. Marrying me to spite someone?”
“Nope. But given my looks, you must be.”
“Not at all.”
“Then why?”
“Tired of pretty boys and gym bunnies. Fancied a challenge with an ordinary bloke.”
“Crane operator.”
“Yeah. Speaking ofhows the crane without you? Missing you terribly?”
“Retired.”
“*What?*”
“Worked a hazardous job. Retired at forty-five.”
“Oh, thank God. Im only thirty-eight.”
“Lauren, youll never regret marrying an ordinary crane operator.”
“Hope not.”
Ten years later
“Remember how we met?” Lauren murmured, snuggling into Geoffrey.
“Course,” he chuckled.
“Shh! Youll wake the boys.”
“I promised you wouldnt regret it. So did I keep my word?”
“Overdelivered. Emily and Charlotte are *fuming* with envy.”
“Cant help it. Theyre still looking for the one”
“Which is fair. Were not exactly textbook, are we?”
“Doesnt matter. Long as were happy.”
