The Accidental Wedding
Summer had been scorching, and Lorraine wandered around her flat in a swimsuit. Why should she care? Living alone meant freedomundress whenever she pleased. Besides, her long-awaited holiday had finally arrived, and if her two friends managed to wrangle a week off from their boss, theyd all dash off to the coast together.
One morning, Lorraine stepped into the kitchen to put the kettle on when she suddenly felt eyes on her. She glanced across the streettwenty metres awayand spotted a middle-aged man watching her from his balcony with unmistakable interest. Though not entirely exposed, she instinctively grabbed a towel to cover herself. From that day on, the stranger tracked her every move. The carefree days were over; now she had to throw on a dressing gown in the stifling heatno air conditioning in her cramped kitchen.
One afternoon, she marched outside and looked up at the fifth floor of the neighboring building. There he was, right where he always lurked. Lorraine waved him over. He pointed to himself, as if asking, *Me?* She nodded. Who else?
He appeared quicklystocky, with curly hair and a noticeable bald patch.
*Bloody hell,* she thought. *Even better close up.*
“Afternoon,” he said, dipping his head slightly with an awkward smile.
“Alright,” she replied flatly. “Whyve you been spying on me?”
“Bit forward, arent we?” He floundered, caught off guard.
“After seeing me in a swimsuit, youd better marry me.”
“Not against it,” he shot back, casual as anything.
“When do we file the paperwork, then?” she teased.
“Right now. Got my passport on me.” He patted the pocket of his sleeveless jacket, studying her. Lorraine rifled through her handbag.
“Mines here too.”
“Shall we, then?”
“Suppose so.” She shrugged. *What am I doing?* she asked herself in the cab. But she didnt turn back. They filed the forms. Only at the registry office did they exchange names.
Geoffrey. Geoffrey Harold Whitmore.
“Where to now?” he asked. “Wish Id brought my car, but I didnt think”
“Home. And dont look at me like thatno flowers, no courting. Were straight into married life after this.”
“Youre off your rocker!” her friends shrieked when Lorraine told them about the wedding, set for a month later. “Have you lost the plot?”
“Relax, we can always withdraw the application.”
“And what about *him*? Hell be gutted!”
“His problem. Shouldnt ogle strange women.”
“Youre single, not *strange*! Lorraine, you dont even love him!”
“And what good did love do you with yours?”
“I ended up hating him!”
“Exactly. I dont love Geoffrey now. Maybe I wont be able to live without him later.”
Geoffrey kept watching his future wife, baffled by her erratic behaviournot that he was much better. A stranger, yet hed follow her anywhere. All because she was stunning. He also noticed Lorraine avoiding the kitchen now, aware of his gaze. So he hid behind the curtain but kept watching. And it paid off.
One day, he spotted her hauling a massive suitcase before vanishing around the corner.
*So thats why shes keeping me awayone last fling before the wedding. Well see if shes worth it.*
He threw on clothes, stuffed a wad of cash into his pocket (no need for luggage), and raced to Heathrow. Spotting Lorraine was easyshe stood with her mates, then boarded a flight to Majorca. Geoffrey booked the same destination but took a later flight.
*Right, where would she stay? A million places here. How do I find her?* he mused, brooding on the beach.
*Why did I even come?*
Thena familiar swimsuit. His heart leapt. *No way.*
But there she was.
*Jackpot.*
The girls lounged on the sand, sipping white wine, completely oblivious. Lorraine assumed her fiancé had no clue where she was.
Geoffrey checked into her hotel effortlessly. Watching her was simpleshe never suspected a thing. He soon realised she was just letting looseno men in sight. Good.
But then they collided on the street. Lorraine, ever defensive, lashed out first:
“Nice wedding prep, eh? Lounging on the beach?”
“Youre not here on business either.”
“I thought you werent around, so I took a holiday.”
“I saw you bolting with a suitcase. Had to follow.”
“You were *stalking* me?”
“Hardly. Just a pre-wedding break.”
“Same. You been married before?”
“Yeah.”
“Kids?”
“None. You?”
“Divorced. No kids either. Marrying me to spite someone?”
“Nah. But with my mug, *you* must be.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then why?”
“Tired of pretty boys, muscleheads. Thought Id try an ordinary bloke.”
“Crane operator.”
“Yeah. Speaking ofhows the crane without you?”
“Retired.”
“*What?*”
“Worked in a steel mill. Retired at forty-five.”
“Thank Christ. Im only thirty-eight.”
“Lorraine, youll never regret marrying an ordinary crane operator.”
“Hope not.”
Ten years later
“Remember how we met?” Lorraine murmured, curling into Geoffrey.
“Course I do,” he chuckled.
“Shh, youll wake the boys.”
“I promised you wouldnt regret it. Did I keep my word?”
“Overdelivered. My mates are green with envy.”
“Well, theyre still looking for *the one*…”
“And thats fine. Were not like most people.”
“So what? Long as were happy. Thats all that matters.”
