Someone Else’s Bride Valery was in high demand. He never needed to advertise in newspapers or on TV – his name and phone number always spread “word of mouth”. Need an MC for a concert? No problem! Hosting an anniversary or wedding? Perfect! He’d even hosted a kindergarten graduation once, winning the hearts of both the children and their mums. It all began simply enough. A close friend was getting married, but their pre-booked host went on a bender and never showed up. With no time to find a replacement, Valery grabbed the mic. Back in school, he’d performed in drama club and joined the university’s comedy society – improv came naturally. He did a stellar job, and right there at the reception, two guests asked him to host their events. After university, Valery got a job at a local scientific institute, earning next to nothing. The money from his hosting gigs was a revelation – before long, he made ten times his day-job salary entertaining at events. Within a year, Valery left his nine-to-five, bought quality equipment, registered as self-employed, and officially made hosting his career. He even started singing lessons and soon became a singing host, moonlighting as a restaurant vocalist three nights a week. Now 30, Valery was good-looking, well-off, and known as a decent singer, DJ, and all-around outstanding host. He wasn’t married – why would he be? Girls threw themselves at him; any flirtation could turn into a fling. But gradually, as his friends married and had children, Valery started yearning for his own bit of domestic bliss. Only problem? Not one of the easy flings interested him long-term, and what he wanted was one love, for life. “You need to find a young girl, train her up, and marry her when she turns 18. Perfect wife!” he’d joke. He even began accepting jobs for school proms, in hopes of scouting a future partner. But modern girls never matched his idea – and so, as he put it, he kept “hunting for a rare specimen”. That was when fate decided to have a laugh with him. At first, nothing seemed unusual. A woman called, name-dropping acquaintances. “We need a wedding host. Are you available June 17th? Perfect! Can we meet?” They met. And for the first time, Valery understood the meaning of “the ground fell away”. The woman, introducing herself as Katherine, was stunning – and clearly clever; she spoke smartly, to the point, handling every detail. At a glance, Valery thought she might be 25, perhaps a little older. But in conversation she mentioned being in the Girl Guides, so she was at least 40. They agreed on the job and wrote up a contract, though Katherine objected, “There’s really no need – I trust you, you come highly recommended!” Valery insisted – he always worked with a contract, for his records as much as theirs. But he secretly admitted he just wanted concrete proof she was real. Her phone chimed – a text. “Ah, my fiancé is here. Need a ride?” Valery declined but walked her out, not out of habit but out of jealousy. He was expecting a mature man, maybe in his 40s. Instead, a lad several years his junior hopped out of the car: “Katherine, all OK?” She smiled serenely. After helping her in, he greeted Valery warmly, “You must be the host for our wedding! Pleased to meet you – I’m Rupert, the groom.” Valery wanted nothing more than to punch “Rupert, the groom” and wipe that happy grin off his face, but instead just shook his hand. “Valery, pleasure.” From that day, Valery was obsessed. Any excuse to call Katherine, to hear her voice, to see her. The wedding day drew close and he felt he was going mad. A friend, the only one he confided in, teased, “What about those girls you wanted to train up as the perfect wife?” Valery would just wave him off. “Sod schoolgirls – Katherine’s perfect, she’s all I want.” “So tell her how you feel,” his friend advised. But Valery snapped, “Don’t be stupid! She’s getting married. She must love him. What would she want with me and my hopeless feelings?” Sometimes Rupert would swing by with an errand from Katherine, and Valery seethed with envy, barely restraining himself. He even considered backing out of the gig. But then he’d never see Katherine again. And he always relented. Two days before the wedding, Katherine came to finalise the script – the office was being renovated, so they met at Valery’s flat. They talked, joked, laughed, nailed down the last details. Valery suggested a glass of champagne, “To a perfect wedding.” Katherine agreed, relaxed and beaming. Somewhere between laughter, Valery kissed her – and, unexpectedly, Katherine kissed back. He woke up the next morning, unsure if it was real… her perfume lingering on the pillow confirmed it wasn’t just a dream. But now what? Wasn’t the wedding going ahead? He called her. “Hi…” She greeted him cheerfully, “Hello! Sorry I left quietly, but there’s so much to do, you know, wedding tomorrow!” “So the wedding’s still on?” he said bleakly. “Of course! Why wouldn’t it be? Everything’s fine!” Were all women this heartless? Could she really look Rupert in the eye tomorrow? Valery was in torment. Sabotage the wedding? But did he even want someone so devious? He admitted to himself: yes, he did. Any version of her. On the big day he arrived early; the decorators eyed him flirtatiously. And then— Katherine appeared. “Hi. I ran out straight after the registry – just wanted to see you before things kicked off.” She grinned radiantly. Valery was confused: “So there was a registry? You ran out after?” “Of course, silly. Who wants to spend a day carousing with the youngsters when I could be here with you? Unless you mind.” Valery was baffled: “Wait, with youngsters? Aren’t you the bride?” Katherine stared at him in stunned silence, then burst out laughing – a pure, infectious laugh that made Valery smile despite himself. “Goodness, no! My daughter – she’s in university up in Edinburgh. She just flew in yesterday. Did you think I was the bride?” “And that, two days before the wedding, I’d sleep with someone else? You have a high opinion of me…” Finally, the penny dropped. Katherine never once implied she was the bride; she always said “the bride and groom”. Rupert never called her “Kathy”, always “Katherine”, always formally. How had he not seen it before? He finally asked the big question: “But you – are you free?” When she nodded, he blurted, “Marry me. Please.” The wedding was a triumph; the MC outdid himself and the guests were rapturous. The newlyweds came to thank him. “Thank you – we don’t know how to repay you for such a wonderful evening.” Katherine joined them. “I’ll thank him myself. Off you go, your limo’s waiting – I’ll watch over things here.” Word raced through Valery’s family: he was marrying a woman nine years older than himself. At first, relatives were wary; but then, after meeting Katherine, everyone agreed: “How could you not fall for her?” Katherine and her daughter gave birth just two weeks apart. Someone Else’s Bride

Someone Elses Bride

Charlie was a man in high demand. He never once put out an advert in the local paper or on telly, but his name and phone number got around by good old-fashioned word of mouth. Need someone to host a concert? No problem! A birthday do or a wedding? Absolutely! He even once emceed a leavers party in a primary school, charming not just the children but half their mums as well.

It all started by chance. One of his close mates was getting marriedthe hired master of ceremonies had gone missing, later discovered to be on a binge and in no state to work. There was no time to look for anyone else, so Charlie grabbed the mic.

Hed done plenty of amateur dramatics at school, took part in the Logos theatre group, and while at uni was always front and centre at Student Spring and the universitys comedy nights. That last-minute performance was a roaring success, and right there in the function room two folks asked if he could host their events too.

After graduating from uni, Charlie took a job at one of the citys scientific institutes, making next to nothing. His first earnings from hosting jobs gave him a buzzhe grabbed any gig going, not just for the decent money but for the joy of it too. Soon, his taking from events was nearly ten times his junior researchers salary.

After a year, Charlie took the plunge: he left the institute, used his savings to buy professional kit, registered as a sole trader, and officially went into the entertainment business. He started voice lessons toohe had a decent set of pipes. Before long, he was a singing host, picking up work as a lounge singer in one of the citys restaurants three nights a week.

Now, at thirty, Charlie was good-looking, comfortably off, and well-known as a talented MC, DJ, and singer who could liven up any gathering. Hed never bothered getting marriedwhy bother? Women seemed to flock to him, and if he winked at any of them, theyd agree to anything. But as his friends started to settle down and have kids, he began to fancy the idea of a cosy family life of his own. It was just who with? The women who were easily won over were only ever good for one thing. He was looking for someone for life.

You need to meet a schoolgirl, mould her to your ways, and marry her when she turns eighteen, joked one friend. Thats how youll get your perfect wife!

Charlie even took gigs for school leavers dos, hoping to scout out a prospective girlfriend. But the modern girls werent what hed hoped for; they just werent right. Still, he wasnt discouragedhe kept an eye out for the rare catch, as he put it, hunting for elusive game. And then, fate decided to play a trick on my second cousin Charlie.

It all began innocently. A lady called, saying some friends had recommended him.
We need a host for a wedding. Are you free on 17th June? Brilliant! Shall we meet?

So they met up. Charlie later said it was the first time in his life he truly understood the phrase the ground fell away beneath my feet. The woman, who introduced herself as Victoria, was absolutely radiantCharlie had never seen anyone like her in real life. She spoke plainly and to the point, clearly knowing exactly what she wanted. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was obviously clever tooa rare combination! At first glance, Charlie reckoned Victoria was about twenty-five, maybe a little more, but then she mentioned being a Young Pioneer in her teens, meaning she must be at least forty!

They discussed all the details, agreed to terms, and signed a contract, although Victoria hesitated,
Is that really necessary? I trust you, and youve got such glowing references.

Charlie always worked on contract though, sticking strictly to terms and expecting the same from clients. So he insisted,
I have to do things properly for the taxman, no shortcuts.

Privately, he admitted he needed the paperworkhe wanted physical proof that Victoria wasnt a dream.

Her phone pinged with a text.
Oh, the grooms arrived to pick me up. Need a lift?

Charlie declined, but walked her out. He always did when couples came separately, to size up the dynamics between bride and groom. But this time it wasnt curiosityit was jealousy. The groom was a surpriseCharlie had imagined a dashing forty-something man, but out stepped a chap clearly younger than Charlie himself.

Victoria, everything alright?
She just smiledhow could it not be fine with her? She got in, the groom shut her car door, then turned to Charlie.

Youre going to host our wedding, right? Brilliantmy mate Dave said youre the best, he said, offering a handshake. Sorry, Im Robert, the groom.

All Charlie wanted was to punch this Robert the Groom and wipe the grin off his face, but he just shook his hand politely.
Charlie. Nice to meet you.

From that day, Charlie was in turmoil. He kept looking for any excuse to phone Victoria, just to hear her voice, to arrange a meeting. The wedding date loomed ever closer, and Charlie felt like he was losing his mind. The only mate he confided in asked, a bit teasingly,
So, what happened to all those schoolgirlsyour would-be perfect wife material?

Charlie just shrugged it off,
To hell with schoolgirls! Victorias the perfect womanI dont want anyone else!

So, tell her that, his friend suggested.
Dont be daftshes marrying someone else, so she must love him. Why would she want anything to do with my ridiculous feelings?

Every now and then, Robert would pop by, grinning from ear to ear.
Victoria asked me to drop this round…

In those moments, Charlie could barely contain his resentment. He even considered pulling out of the wedding, reputation be damned! But then he realised he wouldnt see Victoria again, and couldnt go through with it.

Two days before the wedding, Victoria visited Charlie, saying she wanted to polish the final scriptmake it flawless. The office was a mess due to renovations, so they met at Charlies flat. They ended up chatting for ages, laughing and joking. After finalising everything, Charlie suggested a glass of champagne,
To a perfect wedding day.

Victoria laughed,
Id love that!

She looked especially lovely, laughing that way. The champagne gave Charlie some Dutch courage, and before he knew it, he kissed hershe kissed him right back. His head was spinning.

Charlie awoke with a jolt. Was it all a dream, or had he really spent the best night of his life with Victoria? There was no sign of her, but her perfume still lingered on the pillow beside him. It really had happened. What now? Surely, shed cancel the wedding? Charlie rang Victoria.

Hi

Her voice was casual,
Hello! How are you? Sorry I slipped out so quietly, but you understand, so much to doweddings tomorrow!

So the weddings still on? Charlie croaked.

Of course! Why wouldnt it be? Everythings going to plan!

Are all women really so heartless? How could she go through with it? Charlie couldnt settleshould he crash the wedding? Did he even want a woman who could be so callous? In the end, he admitted to himselfyes, he did. Any way he could have her.

The next day, Charlie turned up at the restaurant early. The decorators were finishing off, and a few of the girls were giving him the eye. Thenhe couldnt believe itVictoria herself walked in.

Hi. I ran off right after the registrycouldnt wait to see you, she said, beaming. Why do you look so baffled, Charlie?

I just dont get it. So there was a registry? And you left straight after?

Well, of course, silly. Why would I want to spend all afternoon riding about town with the youngsters, when I could be with you? Or arent you happy?

Wait, what youngsters? Arent you the bride?

Victoria stared at him, then dissolved into laughter. It was such an honest, joyful sound that Charlie had to join in.

Of course not! Its my daughterKatie! Shes at university up in Newcastle, only flew in last night. You really thought I was the bride? That Id sleep with you just days before my own wedding? Some opinion youve got of me

Only then did Charlie realise. Victoria had never said I or wealways the bride and groom. Robert never called her Katie, only Victoria, and always formally. Charlie had simply missed the signshow daft. Finally, he worked up the courage to ask,

And you? Are you free? When Victoria nodded, he blurted out, Will you marry me? Please

The wedding went off spectacularly, Charlie outdid himself as the MC, and the guests raved about him. The newlyweds came over to thank him,
Thank you so much! Weve no idea how to repay you for such a wonderful evening.

Ill thank him myself, Victoria said, joining them. Your limos waitinggo on, Ill keep an eye on everything here.

The news spread like wildfire: Charlie was marrying a woman nine years his senior. At first, the family were wary, but when they met the bride, the consensus was,
Itd be impossible not to fall for a woman like that.

Victoria and Katie each had childrenjust two weeks apart.

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Someone Else’s Bride Valery was in high demand. He never needed to advertise in newspapers or on TV – his name and phone number always spread “word of mouth”. Need an MC for a concert? No problem! Hosting an anniversary or wedding? Perfect! He’d even hosted a kindergarten graduation once, winning the hearts of both the children and their mums. It all began simply enough. A close friend was getting married, but their pre-booked host went on a bender and never showed up. With no time to find a replacement, Valery grabbed the mic. Back in school, he’d performed in drama club and joined the university’s comedy society – improv came naturally. He did a stellar job, and right there at the reception, two guests asked him to host their events. After university, Valery got a job at a local scientific institute, earning next to nothing. The money from his hosting gigs was a revelation – before long, he made ten times his day-job salary entertaining at events. Within a year, Valery left his nine-to-five, bought quality equipment, registered as self-employed, and officially made hosting his career. He even started singing lessons and soon became a singing host, moonlighting as a restaurant vocalist three nights a week. Now 30, Valery was good-looking, well-off, and known as a decent singer, DJ, and all-around outstanding host. He wasn’t married – why would he be? Girls threw themselves at him; any flirtation could turn into a fling. But gradually, as his friends married and had children, Valery started yearning for his own bit of domestic bliss. Only problem? Not one of the easy flings interested him long-term, and what he wanted was one love, for life. “You need to find a young girl, train her up, and marry her when she turns 18. Perfect wife!” he’d joke. He even began accepting jobs for school proms, in hopes of scouting a future partner. But modern girls never matched his idea – and so, as he put it, he kept “hunting for a rare specimen”. That was when fate decided to have a laugh with him. At first, nothing seemed unusual. A woman called, name-dropping acquaintances. “We need a wedding host. Are you available June 17th? Perfect! Can we meet?” They met. And for the first time, Valery understood the meaning of “the ground fell away”. The woman, introducing herself as Katherine, was stunning – and clearly clever; she spoke smartly, to the point, handling every detail. At a glance, Valery thought she might be 25, perhaps a little older. But in conversation she mentioned being in the Girl Guides, so she was at least 40. They agreed on the job and wrote up a contract, though Katherine objected, “There’s really no need – I trust you, you come highly recommended!” Valery insisted – he always worked with a contract, for his records as much as theirs. But he secretly admitted he just wanted concrete proof she was real. Her phone chimed – a text. “Ah, my fiancé is here. Need a ride?” Valery declined but walked her out, not out of habit but out of jealousy. He was expecting a mature man, maybe in his 40s. Instead, a lad several years his junior hopped out of the car: “Katherine, all OK?” She smiled serenely. After helping her in, he greeted Valery warmly, “You must be the host for our wedding! Pleased to meet you – I’m Rupert, the groom.” Valery wanted nothing more than to punch “Rupert, the groom” and wipe that happy grin off his face, but instead just shook his hand. “Valery, pleasure.” From that day, Valery was obsessed. Any excuse to call Katherine, to hear her voice, to see her. The wedding day drew close and he felt he was going mad. A friend, the only one he confided in, teased, “What about those girls you wanted to train up as the perfect wife?” Valery would just wave him off. “Sod schoolgirls – Katherine’s perfect, she’s all I want.” “So tell her how you feel,” his friend advised. But Valery snapped, “Don’t be stupid! She’s getting married. She must love him. What would she want with me and my hopeless feelings?” Sometimes Rupert would swing by with an errand from Katherine, and Valery seethed with envy, barely restraining himself. He even considered backing out of the gig. But then he’d never see Katherine again. And he always relented. Two days before the wedding, Katherine came to finalise the script – the office was being renovated, so they met at Valery’s flat. They talked, joked, laughed, nailed down the last details. Valery suggested a glass of champagne, “To a perfect wedding.” Katherine agreed, relaxed and beaming. Somewhere between laughter, Valery kissed her – and, unexpectedly, Katherine kissed back. He woke up the next morning, unsure if it was real… her perfume lingering on the pillow confirmed it wasn’t just a dream. But now what? Wasn’t the wedding going ahead? He called her. “Hi…” She greeted him cheerfully, “Hello! Sorry I left quietly, but there’s so much to do, you know, wedding tomorrow!” “So the wedding’s still on?” he said bleakly. “Of course! Why wouldn’t it be? Everything’s fine!” Were all women this heartless? Could she really look Rupert in the eye tomorrow? Valery was in torment. Sabotage the wedding? But did he even want someone so devious? He admitted to himself: yes, he did. Any version of her. On the big day he arrived early; the decorators eyed him flirtatiously. And then— Katherine appeared. “Hi. I ran out straight after the registry – just wanted to see you before things kicked off.” She grinned radiantly. Valery was confused: “So there was a registry? You ran out after?” “Of course, silly. Who wants to spend a day carousing with the youngsters when I could be here with you? Unless you mind.” Valery was baffled: “Wait, with youngsters? Aren’t you the bride?” Katherine stared at him in stunned silence, then burst out laughing – a pure, infectious laugh that made Valery smile despite himself. “Goodness, no! My daughter – she’s in university up in Edinburgh. She just flew in yesterday. Did you think I was the bride?” “And that, two days before the wedding, I’d sleep with someone else? You have a high opinion of me…” Finally, the penny dropped. Katherine never once implied she was the bride; she always said “the bride and groom”. Rupert never called her “Kathy”, always “Katherine”, always formally. How had he not seen it before? He finally asked the big question: “But you – are you free?” When she nodded, he blurted, “Marry me. Please.” The wedding was a triumph; the MC outdid himself and the guests were rapturous. The newlyweds came to thank him. “Thank you – we don’t know how to repay you for such a wonderful evening.” Katherine joined them. “I’ll thank him myself. Off you go, your limo’s waiting – I’ll watch over things here.” Word raced through Valery’s family: he was marrying a woman nine years older than himself. At first, relatives were wary; but then, after meeting Katherine, everyone agreed: “How could you not fall for her?” Katherine and her daughter gave birth just two weeks apart. Someone Else’s Bride