The Accidental Wedding
Summer was scorching, and Rebecca was lounging around her flat in just a swimsuit. Who was there to mind? Living alone meant she could do as she pleasedespecially now that her long-awaited holiday had finally arrived. If her two best mates could wrangle even a week off work, theyd be straight off to the seaside together.
One morning, Rebecca wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on when she suddenly felt eyes on her. Glancing out the window, she spotted a middle-aged man across the street, about twenty metres away, watching her intently from his balcony. She wasnt exactly naked, but she still grabbed a tea towel to cover herself. From that day on, the stranger seemed to track her every move. No more lounging freelynow she had to throw on a dressing gown in that sweltering heat, and her kitchen didnt even have air conditioning.
One afternoon, she stepped outside and looked up at the fifth floor of the building opposite. There he was, same as ever. Rebecca waved him over. He pointed at himself*Me?* She nodded. Who else?
He arrived quicklya bit portly, curly hair, but with a noticeable bald patch gleaming on top. *”Blimey,”* she thought. *”Hes even worse up close than through the window.”*
“Alright?” He gave a slight nod and grinned.
“Hi,” she said bluntly. “Whyve you been staring at me?”
“Are we on first-name terms already?” He floundered, caught off guard.
“After seeing me in a swimsuit, youd better marry me,” she deadpanned.
“Wouldnt say no,” he shot back, just as casually.
“When are we filing the paperwork, then?” She played along.
“Right now. Got my passport on me.” He patted the pocket of his sleeveless jacket, eyeing her. Rebecca rummaged through her handbag.
“Mines here too.”
“Shall we, then?”
“Go on,” she shrugged. *What am I doing?* she wondered in the cab, but she didnt turn back. They submitted the forms. Only at the registry office did they exchange names. His was Geoffrey. Geoffrey Whitmore.
“Where to next? Shame my cars in the garage”
“Home. And dont look at me like that. No courting periodonce were married, its straight into grown-up life.”
“Are you mad?” Her friends were aghast when Rebecca told them about the wedding, set for a month later. “Whats wrong with you?”
“Oh, relax. We can always withdraw the application.”
“Have you thought about *him*? Hell be heartbroken!”
“His problem. Shouldnt gawk at strange women.”
“Youre single, not *strange*. You dont even love him!”
“What good did love do for you and yours?”
“I hate him now.”
“Exactly. I dont love Geoffrey now, but who knows? Maybe I wont be able to live without him later.”
Geoffrey kept watching his future wife, baffled by her odd behaviourthough he wasnt much better. Who was she? Yet hed follow her anywhere. All because she was stunning. He noticed Rebecca avoiding the kitchen now, aware of his gaze, so he hid behind the curtains to keep watching. And it paid off.
One day, he spotted her hauling a massive suitcase out the door. She ducked around the corner in a hurry. *”So thats why shes keeping me awayone last fling before the wedding. Well, lets see if shes worth it.”*
He threw on some clothes, stuffed a wad of cash into his chinos, and dashed to the airport. He spotted Rebecca straight away, standing with her two mates. They flew off to Brighton; Geoffrey booked the same flight but left hours later.
*”What am I even doing here? A million places she could behow do I find her?”* he mused, sitting on the pebbly beach. *”Total waste of time.”*
Thena familiar swimsuit. Was that her? Yes. *”Jackpot.”*
The girls were sipping white wine, completely oblivious. Rebecca had no clue her fiancé even knew where she was. He checked into her hotel, watching unnoticed. No blokes around, just funGeoffrey was relieved. But then they bumped into each other on the promenade. Rebecca, ever defensive, snapped first:
“So *this* is how we prep for a wedding, is it? Strolling the beach?”
“Youre not here on business either.”
“Didnt see you around, thought Id sneak off.”
“Saw you bolting with a suitcase. Had to follow.”
“Seriously? Youre *stalking* me?”
“Hardly. Just a pre-wedding break.”
“Same. Been married before?”
“Yeah.”
“Kids?”
“None. You?”
“Divorced. No kids either. Marrying me to spite someone? You didnt even argue.”
“Nah. But with *my* looks, *you* must be spiting someone.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then why?”
“Tired of chasing fit blokes and pretty boys. Fancied a go with someone… normal.”
“A crane operator.”
“Yeah. Speaking ofhows the crane without you? Missing it?”
“Retired.”
“*What?*”
“Worked in a steel mill. Retired at forty-five.”
“Thank God. I thoughtIm only thirty-eight.”
“Rebecca, youll never regret marrying an ordinary crane operator.”
“Hope not.”
Ten years later…
“Remember how we met?” Rebecca murmured, snuggling into Geoffrey.
“Course,” he chuckled.
“Shh! Youll wake the boys.”
“Promised you wouldnt regret it. Did I deliver?”
“Overdelivered. My mates are green with envy.”
“Well, theyre still looking for *the one*…”
“Good for them. Weve never done things the usual way.”
“Doesnt matter. Long as were happy.”
