Miss Spelled Read online

  We spend the entire weekend celebrating in the bedroom, only crawling out of bed to eat occasionally. I put my famous mango chicken in the oven to reheat 30 minutes ago and should probably go and check on it, but whatever was bothering Aiden on Friday night is still bothering him now and it would be good for him to talk about it.

  ‘In all the excitement and the sex, I forgot to ask what was troubling you on Friday night,’ I say.

  ‘Oh, that. Mmmm, Friday was—’

  ‘Was what?’

  ‘…was not overly interesting, except for the announcement of a cocktail party on Monday night. Will you be able to come? I’d love to show off my fiancée.’

  ‘A cocktail party? What’s that in aid of?’ I ask.

  ‘The merger, we’ve got a…’ his eyebrows did that furrow thing again ‘…a colleague from London visiting us. He’s come to do the restructure, so they’re giving everyone a drink and hors d’oeuvres to butter people up before they hand out the retrenchments the following week.’

  ‘Why don’t you take one? Go to Uni and study teaching? It’s not up to your parents to choose your occupation.’

  Damn it! I shouldn’t have said that. He has enough to cope with without a pushy fiancée as well.

  ‘I wish it was that simple,’ he says.

  There’s no point going on about it. We’ve discussed it before. Maybe one day he’ll tell his family to get stuffed and follow his own path.

  ‘Will the retrenchments be bad?’

  ‘Originally, I’d hoped not, but I—literally—ran into the guy in charge of it.’ Aiden purses his lips and inhales deeply.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Ahh, this guy’s an arsehole,’ Aiden says, rubbing his eyes. ‘Gets off on humiliating people, causing trouble. He’s perfectly suited to the job really, but…’

  ‘You’ve worked with him before?’

  ‘Worse. We went to boarding school together. It was a long eight years with him.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Aiden exhales a long, loud sigh. ‘Imagine the epitome of the schoolyard bully. In a boarding school, there’s no escape. He was a stereotype: towered over everyone else except me, built like a rugby player and belonged to an obscenely rich family.’

  ‘Did he bully you?’

  ‘He tried. He bullied a lot of others though, especially those who weren’t suited to the boarding school environment.’

  ‘How so?’ I ask.

  ‘Boarding school’s not for everyone. For some of the kids it was tough being away from home, you know, they just didn’t want to be there. They’d have been better off day-boarding or just going to a different school, but for whatever reason, their parents sent them there. This guy made their lives even more miserable, and for no reason. It just gave him a kick, a laugh. I thought it was wrong, so we clashed— regularly.’

  I smile, knowing Aiden would have rescued everyone this bully picked on. ‘How did I know that you’d be the one to defend others?’

  ‘I can honestly say that there’s not another person for whom I have less time. Really, I have absolutely no respect for this guy, either as a colleague or a human being.’

  ‘He must be really horrid for you to say that.’

  Aiden has never spoken ill of anyone—not even his mother, Cressida, and she’s a real piece of work. Aiden was in his fifth year at school when he was first sent to boarding school. Initially he wondered if he’d done something wrong to make his mother send him away, mainly because boarding school felt like 24-hour-a-day punishment. He would learn later that his mother believed surrounding him with society’s wealthiest people was a surefire way to secure his future—or rather, the future she wanted for him.

  ‘Yep, and now we have to work together on this restructure,’ he sighed. ‘But that’s not until Monday, so let’s just focus on the here and now.’

  He raises his eyebrows suggestively and drags me over to him on the bed. The smile that has invaded my face is bound to be permanent, because Aiden’s gorgeous body is going to be next to me for the rest of our lives, every day, every night. In time, perhaps we will move to my cottage and raise a family, grow old, baggy and saggy together, and still be madly in love. It’s food for thought. Speaking of food…

  ‘What’s that smell?’ he asks. ‘It’s like…burning fruit.’

  ‘Shit!’ I cry, leaping out of bed and running naked into the kitchen.

  I can feel my bum and thighs wobble with my running attempt; unfortunately, my breasts aren’t big enough to create much movement. It seems that the majority of my fat deposits were spent on my thighs, hips and tummy and didn’t quite make it to my chest. I must have been built from the ground up. Mum always said I have a body built for child rearing. It didn’t give me any comfort during my teen years or in my early twenties, but Aiden embraces my fuller figure. He says that all the malnourished, Botoxed, siliconed girls his Mum pushed onto him are not his idea of a healthy, sexy body.

  He gets out of bed and walks into the kitchen to see me holding a tray containing charred and smoking lumps of something unrecognisable. I am wearing nothing but blue and white-striped oven mitts. A smile creeps across his face and he breaks into a laugh.

  ‘So I take it you’re not entering Masterchef this year?’ He opens the window and waves the smoke outwards.

  ‘It was your fault, laying in bed looking all hot and shaggable.’

  ‘Yes, you are absolutely right. How dare I be so irresistible? You are only a mortal woman after all. So, let’s see what else is on the menu for lunch,’ he says, as he holds me from behind and nibbles my ear.

  Carefully, I put the tray down and remove the oven mitts.

  ‘No, no. Leave the mitts on. They work for me. They’re kind of sexy,’ he says, taking me in his arms. His skin is warm and slightly sweaty from our previous shagging.

  ‘Perhaps I should wear these to the cocktail party then? I could charm your nemesis and tempt him outdoors and then you could push him under a bus?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s a bus big enough to crush Hunter Wincott’s head,’ Aiden mumbles as he continues to nibble on my ear and neck. My entire body stiffens and my mind flips out.

  ‘Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?’ he asks.

  Did he say Hunter Wincott? I hope not.

  ‘…Umm…yes, it’s okay though. Where did you say this guy was from?’

  Please don’t say Sydney. But he went to school here and then moved over to London…

  ‘Sydney originally. But he’s based in London now.’

  Holy snapping duck shit! No. It can’t be.

  ‘You said his parents are obscenely rich. What do they do?’

  Please don’t say property development.

  ‘They develop shopping centres and new housing estates.’

  He stops nibbling and cranes his neck to look at me. ‘Why do you ask?’ he says.

  ‘No reason, it’s just that I think I read about the family somewhere. In the Sunday paper, probably.’

  That is the first time I have lied to Aiden. My head is spinning in time with my tummy. Surely he can sense I’m not telling the truth?

  ‘Well, you can meet him for yourself at the cocktail party on Monday night.’

  My blood stops moving and my throat swells so much it’s impossible to breathe.

  ‘And then you can try to tempt him under a bus,’ he laughs.

  I may have to throw myself under one before then.

  * * *

  Later in the afternoon, Aiden has a shower and although he does his best to tempt me in there with him, I decline because I desperately need to ring Mel and tell her about Hunter Wincott.

  ‘I’m just going to get something from my car. Be back soon,’ I yell out, heading out the door and into the elevator, ringing Mel’s number on the way. I get out on the pool level and wander around the perfectly maintained gardens while we talk.

  ‘Hey, engaged woman. I thought you’d be too busy celebrating to ring me again,�
� she answers.

  ‘It’s an emergency, Mel. I need your help.’

  ‘Is your Mum taking over already?’

  ‘Mum’s over the moon, she’s going into hyper-drive. Even Dad’s excited, probably because they love Aiden more than me.’

  ‘Has he told his parents yet?’

  ‘No, not yet. We’re going over there for dinner tonight, so…’

  ‘What’s your mantra?’ Mel coaxes.

  ‘I am more than good enough.’

  ‘Yes, you are. It’ll be okay, they’ll come around.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they think anyway. I’m marrying their only son, not them.’

  The reality of the situation is brought into daylight and the heaviness hits me. The burden of living in a family that will never accept me or deem me good enough, will be tough and probably take its toll on Aiden’s relationship with them. I never wanted to be the cause of family trouble and can’t help but feel guilty about it already.

  ‘What’s wrong? It sounds like your sparkle is fading.’

  ‘There’s a problem,’ I say. ‘An enormous problem.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘Do you remember Hunter Wincott, from London? Our gap year?’

  ‘Are you insane? How could I forget that rat bastard? He cheated on you three times.’

  ‘Three times that I knew about. God knows how many more.’ A violent shiver works its way up my spine. ‘Anyway, he’s back.’

  ‘Back where?’

  ‘Here, now. He’s come to do the restructure at Aiden’s work.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mel pauses. ‘So you’re worried that they will meet up and…compare notes? We’ve all got past lovers. Aiden will get over it.’

  ‘It’s worse than that. They already know each other.’ I feel pale just thinking about it.

  Another silence, then she asks, ‘Do they know they have you in common?’

  Suddenly the agapanthus to my right becomes a fascinating plant to look at. A moment’s distraction.

  ‘No, not yet. Oh God, I feel so sick, Mel.’

  I explain the relationship between Hunter and Aiden, after which Mel is silent, except for her breathing.

  ‘But it gets worse because I’ve got to attend a cocktail party with Aiden on Monday night and Hunter is going to be there. He’s going to remember me and blab his mouth off and ruin everything. Aiden isn’t going to want to marry me after he finds out I had a six-month, practically live-in relationship, with the man he despises most.’

  ‘But Aiden loves you. He’s just proposed to you. He’s not going to take that back just because of something in your past, is he?’

  ‘Do you think Harry Potter would have married Ron’s sister if she’d had a semi-serious relationship with Draco Malfoy?’

  Mel is a Harry Potter fan. Putting it in her own language will make her understand the dilemma I now face.

  ‘Well, Harry is very mature for his age—’

  ‘Mel!’

  ‘Listen, Aiden is not Harry Potter and Hunter is not Malfoy. This is a very awkward situation to be in, but I really don’t think Aiden is going to leave you just because you had a relationship with Hunter Wincott 11 years ago. You need to have more faith in Aiden.’

  Her words provide a small level of comfort but unfortunately, my brain is in such a whizz that it’s in danger of turning itself into a hamburger patty.

  ‘I just don’t know what to do. Do I tell Aiden about Hunter? Do I fake illness on Monday and not go?’

  ‘Hmm…’

  ‘But what if Hunter finds out Aiden is marrying me and tells him about us anyway? How will Aiden react if he finds out from someone other than me? I’m lucky enough to have Aiden in the first place, let alone throw this into the mix.’

  ‘Don’t give me that shit about you being lucky to have him. You come from different worlds, there’s no doubting that. But he loves you for you, not for the car you drive or your address, so get over this crap. Okay?’

  Mel has more confidence that me. Perhaps it’s because she’s taller? Maybe confidence is a proportionate thing?

  ‘All it would take is for Hunter to know Aiden is engaged and he would be all over it, wanting to know who to so he could cause trouble. Well, that’s how Aiden has made him out, anyway.’

  ‘Okay, even if Hunter finds out somehow that Aiden is marrying you, is he likely to tell about your relationship? Can you visit him, try to persuade him. Surely he has a reasonable side to his personality?’

  ‘I’m not so sure, but he does owe me for all that cheating he did. Perhaps he will do me a favour. You have to come with me to see him.’

  ‘Me? Why me?’

  ‘Because I need you, and I can hardly take Aiden.’

  ‘Okay. When?’

  ‘It will have to be tomorrow night, because I need to get to him before the cocktail party.’

  ‘Sunday night? But I’ll miss out on House Husbands.’

  ‘You can record it and watch it when we get home. Are you in?’

  ‘Of course, sorry. I’m in. I’ll have a think about your other options too. Maybe there’s some other way around it?’

  ‘It’s a pity I’m not Hermione — I could just cast a spell and make him go away!’

  ‘Hmm, you may be onto something there,’ she says.

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘It works for everyone in Harry Potter…’

  ‘That’s because they’re not real, Mel. They’re fictional characters!’

  She mumbles and grumbles slightly. ‘I still think it’s worth checking out. You never know — just a tiny, little spell could change your life. Leave it with me, we’ve got to cover all possibilities.’

  We end our conversation, and even though Mel can be a little…unique, I am amused to find that the thought of a spell actually appeals to me. What’s that about desperate times and desperate measures?

  * * *

  The next day we attend the fortnightly get-together with Aiden’s parents in their Toorak mini-mansion. Each room is about the size of a barn and is interior-designed to death. But despite the overabundance of furnishings, cushions, throws and rugs, the house has the personality of a doctor’s waiting room. It just goes to show, you can buy heating but you can’t buy warmth.

  His parent’s response to news of the engagement is not enthusiastic. It doesn’t even have a pulse, but that was unfortunately exactly what we had anticipated. It would have been better if he had come alone and saved me the humiliation of sitting in a room with people whose only thought is how this will affect their social standing.

  While his dad, Lewis, said very little as usual and continued sipping on his whiskey, Cressida screwed up her face as though she’d sucked on a lemon. A mammoth effort considering the amount of Botox pumped into every line and crevice on her birdie face.

  Aiden manages to corner his mother in another room, probably thinking I won’t be able to hear them. But, of course, I can—mainly because I’m standing near the open door, just out of their sight.

  ‘Is that all you have to say, Mum? Can’t you just wish us well and be happy for us…for me?’

  ‘I’ve made my feelings very clear to you, Aiden. She’s really not suitable. It won’t last, believe me, mixed marriages never do.’

  ‘How is this a mixed marriage?’

  ‘She’s from the other side of the city, Aiden. The grotty side. The side we pretend doesn’t exist and yet here you are bringing it into our family, into our house, for goodness sake!’

  I can hear Aiden pacing and trying to slow his breath.

  ‘I bet you weren’t like this when Stephanie announced her marriage to Gregory.’

  Cressida’s laugh is cruel, most likely without intention, but hurtful nonetheless.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Aiden. Your sister married a Featherstone-Hough.’

  ‘He’s a womaniser, a gambler and leaves her alone in that mansion while he goes out and parties with his mistresses. She’s miserable.’

  ‘Greg
ory may be…lacking in some respects, but he earns a small fortune, stands to inherit a large one and provides Stephanie with every luxury possible. It’s a far cry from you marrying beneath you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Mum, I need you to understand that I love Lou.’

  ‘It’s a foolish move marrying for love, it never works. Love fades quickly, mutual benefit doesn’t.’

  ‘Mum…’

  ‘It’s not too late for you, Aiden. You can still go to London or New York and pick up your career, be successful like Hunter Wincott. Of course it would be a late start, but better late than never. Perhaps he could get you a job. I’m sure that what’s-her-name will still be here when you get back,’ she says then mumbles, ‘married to one of her own kind.’

  ‘It’s late, we have to go,’ Aiden says. His voice is getting closer, so I make to scamper into the next room—one of their seven bathrooms.

  Cressida calls out after him, ‘Really darling, isn’t there some way I can make you see sense? There’s no hurry to get married, is there? Why not wait a couple of years?’

  ‘Mum, I’m sorry you don’t agree with me, but I love Lou and nothing will change that. Nothing.’

  Except maybe finding out I was Hunter’s girlfriend.

  ‘Very well, darling. If you insist. I’ll have the family lawyer draw up a prenuptial agreement for Lee to sign.’

  His footsteps cease and I can hear his foot turn on the polished oak flooring.

  ‘Lou,’ he says.

  ‘Hmmm? Pardon dear?’

  ‘Lou. My fiancée’s name is Lou, Mum.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Lou. Oh God, she sounds like a toilet.’

  Chapter 4

  Aiden and I usually spend Sunday night apart so we can get ready for the start of our busy working week. He does his best to persuade me to stay, seeing as it won’t be a school night for the next two weeks, but I need to visit Hunter tonight to convince him to keep my secret before the cocktail party tomorrow.

  The drive back to my cottage is filled with imaginary conversations between Hunter and myself, some positive, some not so positive. Mel is waiting for me at home.

  ‘I’ve got to confront him,’ I say.

  ‘What? Who?’ she asks, around a mouthful of red chicken curry. ‘Aiden?’