The Right Groom

Jenny stood on the balcony of her hotel room, pensively gazing out across the beautiful gardens. The sun was already high in the sky and it looked it was going to be another scorching June day. In the distance a large white marquee stood erect, the centre of a hive of activity, with catering staff beetling about carrying trays of glasses and crates of expensive wine.

All for her, she thought sadly. Pulling her robe tightly around her shoulders, she stepped back inside the room to answer the faint knock on the door. It was Cheryl the hairdresser, come to style her hair.

"Now then pet, are you all excited?" she prattled on cheerfully as she unloaded her various tools of the trade. "Linda will be along in a mo to do your make-up. Golly it's busy down there lovey!" she marvelled. "The village hasn't seen an event like this for a few years and everyone is talking about it. Mrs Collins reckons she had some of them paparazzi outside the shop this morning! Poor buggers, bet she sent them off with a flea in their ear!!"

Cheryl sat Jenny down on the upholstered chair in front of the mirror and began to remove the rollers she had placed in her hair earlier that morning. Jenny stared unseeing at her reflection and wondered how on earth she had found herself at this point - the morning of her impending marriage to a well-known pop star, ten years her senior. She imagined most girls would be in seventh heaven about now - a couple of months ago she too had believed that it was everything she'd ever dreamed about. It had only taken a single text message to burst her bubble of hard won happiness.

Why r u marrying him? The single message had arrived like a poison dart, guaranteed to inflict maximum damage. Three days ago she had been making her way through the night club, heading for the toilets with a silly smile on her face, feeling very drunk but happy – as most brides-to-be would be on their hen night.

It was a miracle she had even heard her phone with the DJ playing his tunes at levels loud enough to make her ears bleed. She had blearily pulled the small flip phone from her sparkly bag and read the message as she fell into an empty cubicle, kicking the door shut with her stiletto shoe.

As soon as she saw the sender's number, her world crashed down like a house of cards. It had been a long time since she'd heard from him, but his number was etched onto her memory in blood. How could he do this to her now? He was her past, not her future - and now he had ruined everything...

* * *

Liam had been her one and only true love until that fateful Friday night in the pub, three years ago. They had both been drinking heavily and had fallen out over a silly little thing. So silly, she couldn't even remember what it was now. The upshot of it was they'd had a huge row and he had stormed out of her life forever – or so it seemed at the time.

"FUCK OFF AND DON'T COME BACK!" she'd screamed at him as he stormed off down the road in a temper. Angrily she'd slammed the door and collapsed on the cold tiled floor of their flat in a miserable heap, black streaks of mascara leaving sooty slug trails down her cheeks.

The next morning, Jenny awoke with an almighty hangover. The events of the previous evening flooded back into her consciousness with the impact of a ten tonne truck and she buried her aching head under the pillow. They were supposed to be going out for dinner with her parents that night, but unless they patched things up pretty sharp it looked like she would be going alone. She lay groaning in her bed, wishing she were dead. Being dead had to be better than feeling like this, she thought miserably.

Liam didn't ring her all day and she refused point blank to ring him. Why should she apologise? It hadn't been her fault they had fallen out; in fact she wasn't sure whose fault it was, but she was damned if she was going to be the first one to give in.

She and her foolish pride; it was a decision she lived to regret. Two weeks passed slowly by and they both stubbornly refused to back down and take any blame for the fateful argument. It was a Thursday night when Jenny walked into the village pub with Carrie and Sue, her best friends. When she saw Liam her heart leapt in joy. She had missed him so much and now he was here, maybe she could make up with him without losing too much face. She was just about to saunter over casually when she saw Polly Maguire sidle up and put her arms around his neck, locking lips with him in a highly suggestive way. Liam pulled away with a smile, his hand resting lightly on her pert backside as he said something to her. Whatever it was Liam said, Polly giggled coquettishly in response.

Jenny froze to the spot as she observed the humiliating spectacle of her so-called boyfriend in a not so innocent clinch with the local trollop. Her blood boiled in fury and the red mist of rage descended. All it took was a pint over Liam's head followed by a neat left hook to make sure she was thrown out of the pub and barred for life. She was extremely lucky that the police weren't called, although at the time she hadn't honestly cared.

Later on, when she had calmed down a little, she bitterly regretted what she'd done - but she could see no way out of the hole she'd dug. It turned out that Polly was just being her usual self and Liam had been entirely innocent. She felt very ashamed with herself when she found this out from a friend. She knew she ought to apologise, but then she would have to admit that she had been wrong; and she just couldn't do it. All her life she had stubbornly refused to back down on anything. She found it nigh on impossible to admit she was in the wrong - even though there were times she knew damn well she was. Her sister frequently told her she was a spoilt bitch and deep down Jenny was aware Kim was right. It just wasn't in her to admit it.

This time it backfired on her. It was Mrs Collins in the shop who dropped the bombshell. Jenny had wandered in to buy a lottery scratch card, only to be inevitably dragged into the village gossip mill by the nosey old bag.

"Ooh have you heard the news?" Mrs Collins sucked on her dentures noisily and continued on heedlessly, not really caring whether Jenny wanted to know or not. "That Liam O'Leary has upped and left. His Mum came in this morning and told me he's gone off to Timbuktu, or some such place. Can you believe it?"

Jenny turned a whiter shade of pale and dropped her purse, money spewing out all over the grubby linoleum floor. Trembling slightly, she stooped to collect the coins that had scattered everywhere like confetti while Mrs Collins waffled away happily,

"His Mum says he's gone to work with some poor kiddie's charity for a year. Bless the lad eh? Marjorie was right upset like, especially as it came all out of the blue. He only told her a few days ago..." Mrs Collins clucked away like an old hen, pondering sympathetically how upset Liam's Mum had been.

Her and me both, thought Jenny in bleak desolation. Liam had mentioned his plan to go travelling months ago, but when she had kicked off about the idea of him buggering off for a year and leaving her at home, he had subsequently shut up about it. She slid her fingers under the fridge to retrieve a pound coin. It was all sticky so she put it on the counter in payment for her scratch card. That'll teach the old bag to go upsetting me with crap news like that, she thought evilly.

"Anyway, I thought you two were an item?" Mrs Collins said, finally noticing Jenny's unhappy expression.

"We were. Obviously Liam had other plans," she replied savagely. "One Gold-Mine scratch card please."

Mrs Collins looked at Jenny closely before deciding that it would be wiser not to pursue the subject. She gave her a scratch card and picked up the proffered coin from the counter, grimacing in disgust when it stuck to her hand.

Jenny stalked out of the shop without bothering to say "thanks" and headed for the bench by the duck pond. Never had she felt as fucking miserable as she did at that moment. Up until this point, she had successfully managed to convince herself that Liam would soon be round to apologise for all the silly misunderstandings - but he hadn't. Oh no, it turned out he was far too busy booking air tickets to Outer Mongolia and planning his trip of a lifetime. The bastard!

Tears of self pity and anger began to fall unheeded as she rubbed at the silver panel on the scratch card. Three £100 symbols were quickly revealed. Oh great, she thought listlessly – that'll keep me in vodka for the next few days...

Days merged into weeks and then finally months. Liam was an ever-present fixture in her mind, but as time passed the pain reduced in intensity. By the time she bumped into Dan Harlequin, (quite literally), she was much more herself again.

* * *

The Ferrari was hurtling around the lane at a break neck speed and it was a miracle that neither of them was killed when Jenny collided with it. Luckily her ancient Fiat spun off into a field without hitting any immovable objects, but Dan's Ferrari looked a little worse for wear after the impact.

Jenny managed to extricate herself from the vehicle formerly known as her car and shaking herself down, she realised to her relief that she had no major injuries. Grabbing her bag from the front seat, she headed over to the pillock in the other car to give him a piece of her mind.

"You fucking moron!" she yelled at the blonde bloke climbing out of the purple car, rubbing his head. "This is a narrow country lane, not the Monte Carlo Grand Prix! Did you take a wrong turn at Saint Tropez, dipshit?"

When the blonde man turned round to face her, blood trickling down his cheek from a small gash on his forehead, she immediately wished the tarmac would swallow her up. The infamous face of Dan Harlequin had featured on the cover of most magazines and newspapers across the world at one time or another. The man was a legend in his own lifetime and she had just given him a right royal bollocking. Oh shoot me now, she thought in horrified dismay.

Dan looked blurrily at the fiery red head spitting vitriol at him and wobbled a little. Jenny pulled herself together and immediately rushed over to take his arm. "Hey I'm sorry," she apologised for an unprecedented first time in her life. "I didn't realise you were hurt. Sit down over here and I'll call an ambulance."

"NO!" he hissed urgently. "Christ, half of Fleet Street will descend on me if you do that. Call my manager and he'll sort this mess out." He collapsed on the grassy bank and pulled a mobile from his pocket. "Here," he said wearily, "scroll down the menu and find the number for Mal, he'll deal with everything."

Jenny took the phone and eventually found the phonebook in its menu. She went carefully through the list of names and tried very hard to ignore all the famous people listed on it. Eventually she found Mal and dialled his number. A very camp bloke answered and uttered a huge long list of expletives when Jenny explained what had just occurred and who she was.

"It wasn't my fault!" she muttered in annoyance, closing the phone and passing it back to Dan.

"He wasn't pleased eh?" Dan managed a week smile. "Hey don't worry about it - he's a pussy cat really. How long is he gonna be?"

"Erm he said someone will be along in half an hour or so. I think we better move the car out of the way before anyone else hits it. Can you help me push it?" Jenny asked hesitantly. Frankly looking at him, she didn't think he was capable of pushing a pen at the moment. The gash on his head was still bleeding and he looked extremely pale beneath his tan. She just hoped he didn't have concussion or anything.

"I'll try," Dan said, pulling himself to his feet. "Look I'm really sorry about this - and your car. I'll pay for the damage I promise. It was my fault I know – I was in a rush as usual. Well I'm not gonna get there now am I!" He grinned at her engagingly and Jenny melted into a little puddle at the pure sexiness of the man. His pictures hadn't done him justice at all, he was lust personified and she was a little smitten already.

They managed to push the damaged car into the verge and out of the way of oncoming traffic. Not that it was a busy lane or anything; the chances of any more cars flying around it were pretty low. Quite how Dan Harlequin came to be driving round here was anybody's guess. She just had to ask...

"I was on my way to a garden party at Carlton Manor. Looks like I will be a little late..." he said ruefully as they sat companionably on the grassy verge.

"Oh very nice..." Jenny grinned. "Sadly my life isn't that exciting – I was on my way to the supermarket to do a shop! Don't suppose you do mundane things like that, do you?"

Dan laughed self deprecatingly. "Erm no, I get mobbed if I go out so I have to be careful."

Jenny sat there beside him trying not to grin like a star-struck lunatic. His band, Vendetta, had an album in the top ten chart and they had just completed a sell out tour of Europe. This man was seriously famous and she was sat talking to him. It felt unreal and she couldn't quite believe he was being so nice and normal. Like most people, she had the view that celebrities were probably stuck up and arrogant. Dan Harlequin was the most down to earth bloke she'd met in a long time. He was a pleasure to talk to and she felt all her shyness evaporating as they chatted away easily.

By the time the huge 4x4 turned up and several large blokes jumped out, they had quite a rapport going on. Dan insisted they drop her off at home and promised she would hear from his manager about her damaged car. By that time, Jenny had completely forgotten about her old Fiat. She wandered dreamily back inside her ordinary little house feeling like she'd won the lottery. The trouble was nobody believed her when she recounted her story down the pub that evening. They laughed heartily and accused her of having an overactive imagination.

"Yeah right!" snorted Mo, "Pull the other one it's got bells on it!" Jenny went into a massive huff and sulked for the rest of the evening while the rest of her so-called friends sniggered into their pints of beer.

When the brand new Fiat was delivered to her house a couple of days later, (along with the world's biggest bouquet of roses), everybody soon had to swallow their words. Jenny was gob-smacked to see her sleek new car. It was a million times better than the old one that had been towed to the local garage.

Dan followed up his generosity with a phone call inviting her to dinner at the end of the week. Still reeling from the car and the flowers, she accepted immediately. It was only when she saw her face plastered all over the tabloids one Sunday morning that the cold harsh reality of dating a celebrity finally sank in.

"LOVE IN THE STICKS!" screamed the Sunday Sport headline. The story featured some less than flattering pictures of her and Dan leaving a restaurant, followed by a short column about Dan's alleged country bumpkin girlfriend from the back of beyond. Jenny was mortified. The paper managed to imply that she was nothing more than a dumb bimbo who must have struck it lucky to end up with the world's most famous singer.

Jenny cried into her cornflakes in humiliation. She just wasn't cut out for the celebrity life style at all... Unfortunately it got a whole lot worse within hours. Her Mum opened the front door to be hit with the camera flashes of a pack of Paparazzi. She was less than amused. Eventually her sister fought her way through the melee to the house and collapsed with a sigh onto the kitchen armchair.

"Jeeze Jenny!" she laughed. "You don't do things by halves do ya!"

Jenny prickled in righteous indignation, "I didn't ask for all this!" she yelled angrily. "All I did was go out a few times with a nice bloke. I can't help it if he's the most famous man on the fucking planet!" She stormed over to the sink and dropped her bowl into the slimy grey water.

FLASH! A photographer leapt out from behind the hedge and Jenny screamed loudly in shock. Pulling the blind down fast and plunging the kitchen into gloom, she ran upstairs sobbing.

Her bedroom was still full of her old toys and books as her Mum hadn't got around to clearing them away. When Jenny moved back in after Liam left, she had found them strangely comforting. She picked up tatty white rabbit and lay on her bed miserably, cuddling the old threadbare toy to her chest.

She missed Liam. There was a snapshot of them together still pinned to the wall above her mirror. She had nearly thrown it away when she moved back, but something had stopped her. Now she was glad she had kept it. They had been so happy when it was taken. One of their friends had snapped it a couple of winters ago; the day had been freezing and Jenny's nose was pink beneath her fluffy hat. Liam had his arms round her and they were both laughing at some long forgotten joke. God it seemed another lifetime ago.

They had snuck off after that photo had been taken, ending up back at Liam's flat. Freezing hands had soon warmed up on hot skin although Jenny had yelled vociferously when he'd slipped his icy hand down into her knickers.

They had barely managed to remove half of their thick winter layers before he was inside her, sliding his hard cock within her tight sheath. She recalled with a faint smile how the prickly texture of the old sofa had left a nasty red mark on her back, although she hadn't cared at the time. Liam had grabbed her breasts under her jumper and pinched her nipples, twisting them as he thrust into her. She had soon cum hard, her pussy rippling pleasurably around him until he exploded into her wetly.

Afterwards, they had lain together in a hot steamy bath making plans for their future together. A girl and a boy they'd agreed on – but not until they were a little older. Liam had told her about his desire to travel – he wanted to see the world, just like his elder brother had done. He had wrapped his arms around her, stroking her breasts in the warm, soapy water as he described his planned journey and all the places he wanted to see.

Jenny had listened silently, her heart breaking a little at the thought of him leaving her behind. He promised it would only be a few months, but she wasn't convinced. It was the first wedge between them and as time passed, she became increasingly insecure about their relationship. He knew she didn't want to travel and leave her family for months. It became a stalemate situation, one that caused frequent arguments.

She sighed and shut her eyes in despair. Why did he have to go like that? They could have sorted it out somehow. She and her stupid pride had fucked up as always... Downstairs her Mum and sister were forced to unplug the telephone after it continued to ring off the hook with journalists wanting to know if she'd give an interview.

* * *

Life as Dan Harlequin's girlfriend was certainly never boring. After the rude introduction to the world of celeb's and tabloid journalism, Jenny quickly became used to the attention of the media. Quite why they were interested in her never failed to amaze her, but she supposed it came with the territory. Whenever she went out with Dan to film premiers and parties and flashy nightclubs, the world and his sister seemed to want to know about it. Within six months, she had appeared countless times in the tabloids and magazines. Various ex boyfriends had soon come forward with spurious kiss and tell exclusives about their alleged threesomes with Jenny, much to the embarrassment of Jenny and amusement of her friends. Fortunately everyone knew her well enough to giggle and ignore it. There had been many raised eyebrows from Mrs Collins down in he village shop though; she obviously believed all of the scandalous stories.