A Strangers Bride
I was in high demand. I never once placed an advert in the paper or on the telly, but my name and number spread the old-fashioned waypassed from person to person, like a well-kept secret shared over cups of tea in living rooms across London. Compere at a concert? No trouble! Master of ceremonies for a golden wedding or a church wedding? Sorted! I even ended up hosting a preschool leavers party oncewinning not only the hearts of the kids but their mothers too.
It all started rather simply. A close mate was getting hitched, but their booked emcee didnt showapparently, hed gone off on a bender. There was no time to find someone else, so I grabbed the mic. Back at school, I was always part of the drama club, acted in the Shakespeareans, and at university, I was a staple in the springtime talent shows and a regular at the student comedy nights. That day, my impromptu act went down a storm, and right there in the hotel function room, two guests asked if Id work their own parties too.
After university, I landed a job at one of the citys research labsbut the pay was peanuts. The first few gigs as an event host inspired meat last, I earned proper money and, truth be told, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Soon enough, my MC fees were nearly ten times my wage as a junior researcher.
After a year, I made up my mind: handed in my notice, used my savings to buy proper sound equipment, set myself up as a sole trader, and made it official. Around this time, I began vocal trainingluckily, Id a decent voice and ear for music. I soon became a singing compere, belting out tunes three nights a week at a bistro in Soho on top of my event work.
By the time I hit thirty, I was good-looking, fairly well-off, and widely known as a reliable singer, DJ, and host who could rescue any event from disaster. I was a confirmed bachelorwhy bother marrying? Girls hung off me in clusters; any one of them would have said yes if I clicked my fingers. But as my mates all settled down and started families, I found myself yearning for a quieter, more homely happiness. Trouble was, who with? The easy ones only held interest for a night or two; what I wanted was the real thing, just once, for life.
Youve got to meet a schoolgirl, one pal joked, raise her the right way, and when she hits eighteen, make her your wife. Sorted for life! It was a bit of a running joke. I even started doing a few end-of-term dances for secondary schools, keeping an eye out for someone special. But modern girls always seemed a bit off compared to what I pictured in my head. Still, I kept on scoping out the younger crowd, half-joking that I was on the hunt for an elusive prize.
Thats when, I reckon, fate decided to have a laugh at my expense.
At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A lady rang up, mentioning friends whod recommended me.
We need a host for a wedding. Are you free on the 17th of June? Marvellous! Could we meet?
We did. And thats when, for the first time in my life, I knew what people meant about the ground shifting under your feet. She introduced herself as Catherine: dazzlingly beautiful, with poise and an effortless grace Id never seen in real life. She spoke plainly and to the pointwe need this, this, and thisand I couldnt help but admire her, thinking, some blokes hit the jackpot here! Not only gorgeous, but clearly clever as well; a rare mix. At first glance, I clocked her at about twenty-five, maybe a little older. But as we chatted, she mentioned having been a member of the Young Socialists, which meant she had to be at least forty!
We discussed the details, hammered out an agreement and signed a contract, even though Catherine protested, Theres no need, I trust youyou come highly recommended!
I always worked with a contractfulfilled every bit myself and insisted my clients did, too. I made sure we signed, insisting, Ive got to keep a record for the taxmanI dont need any trouble. Secretly, I needed a solid reminder that this was real lifeCatherine really existed.
A text alert chimed from Catherines mobile.
Oh, heres my fiancé, come to pick me up. Need a lift anywhere?
I declined, but walked her to the front anyway. I always did that when couples came separatelyit was a good chance to see how the bride and groom interacted. But this time, it wasnt just curiosityit was envy and jealousy, if Im honest. The groom wasnt what I expected. Id pictured a stylish man in his forties, matching Catherines elegance. Instead, out stepped a lad younger than myself.
Catherine, is everything alright?
She only smiled, as if to say, when isnt it? She climbed in, and the groom, heading to the wheel, reached out and said to me,
Youre going to be our wedding host, right? Smashing. My mate Ed said youre the best. Im Robertthe fiancé. Sorry for not introducing myself soonerCatherine will have my head.
The urge to wipe the grin off Robert-the-fiancés face was overwhelming, but I just shook his hand, forcing a polite, Im Michael. Nice to meet you.
From that day, I lost all peace of mind. Any excuse to ring Catherine, I tookI just wanted to hear her voice, to see her again. The wedding day loomed, and I felt as though I was losing my mind. The only mate I confided in teased me sharply,
And what happened to the plan with the schoolgirls, hey? That perfect wife scheme?
I waved him off.
Schoolgirls? Sod thatCatherine is perfect, and I need no one else!
So tell her, then! he urged, to which I snapped,
Are you daft? Shes getting married, so clearly she loves him. What would she want with a fool like me and my pathetic feelings?
Sometimes Robert would pop round, grinning like a lottery winner.
Here, Catherine asked me to pass this over to you
I found myself hating him in those moments, just barely holding back from a sharp reply. At one point, I even considered bailing on the weddingforget my reputation! But then Id never see Catherine again, and with that thought, Id shamefully back down.
Two days before the big event, Catherine stopped by my flatjust to finalise the plan, make sure its perfect. My office was under renovation, so we met at mine. We spent ages laughing and chatting about everything but the weddingwe were both in top spirits. Once the last detail was locked in, I offered a glass of bubbly,
To the perfect wedding day.
She grinned, With pleasure!
Catherine looked even more beautiful, laughter lighting up her face. The champagne gave me courage, and before I thought about it, I kissed her. Unexpectedly, she kissed me right back. My head was spinning.
When I awoke, I sat bolt upright, glancing around. Had it all been a dream, or did I really have the best night of my life? No evidence at firstuntil I picked up the pillow beside me, still scented with her perfume. So, it had happened. Now what? Was the wedding still on? My heart hammered as I rang Catherine.
Hello I ventured.
Hi! she replied, as if nothing unusual had happened. How are you? Sorry for slipping out so quietly, but you know how it is, so much to dothe wedding is tomorrow!
Sothe weddings happening? I managed to ask, my voice thick.
Of course! Why wouldnt it be? Everythings perfect!
Were all women capable of such cold-heartedness? Was she really going to look her fiancé in the eye, no remorse? I was all over the place. Should I ruin the wedding? Did I even want someone so heartless? Part of me had no answer, exceptyes, any bit of her was better than nothing.
The next day, I turned up early at the restaurant. The florists were just finishing, giving me coy smiles across the room, when
I couldnt believe my eyesCatherine approached me.
Hello. I dashed out after the registry, just had to see you, she said, dazzling me with her smile. Are you alright, Michael?
Im confused, I managed. So, you did the registry? And then left?
Of course, silly. Why would I care about driving around town with the kids when Id rather spend time with you? Unless youd rather I wasnt here?
Waitwhat kids? Isnt it you getting married?
Catherine stared blankly at me for a moment, then burst into laughter, pure and infectious, making me smile despite myself.
Heavens, no! Its my daughter, Kate. Shes up at Durham for unijust flew in yesterday. Did you honestly think I was the bride? And that two days before her wedding, Id sleep with someone else? What must you think of me
Suddenly, everything fell into place. Catherine had never once said I or weshe always spoke of the bride and groom. Robert, too, only called her Catherine, never a nickname, and always formally. How had I missed it? It was almost comical Then, finally, I asked the only question that mattered:
And you? Are you single? When she nodded at once, I blurted, Will you marry me? Please
The wedding was a smashing successthe host outdid himself, the guests all raved. The newlyweds came over to thank me.
Couldnt have asked for a better comperewhat a brilliant night. Thank you!
Ill thank him myself, Catherine interrupted, joining us, You two hurry onyour limousines here. Ill keep an eye on things.
Word that I was marrying a woman nine years my senior sped through the family grapevine. At first, there were some raised eyebrows, but after meeting her, everyone agreed:
Who wouldnt fall for a woman like that?
Kate and Catherine both had children within a fortnight of each other. If Ive learned anything from all this, its that you can set out hunting for an ideal life, but the best thingslike lovefind you when you least expect them. All it takes is the courage to open your heart, even at the risk of playing the fool.
