CAROL MARINELLI - More Precious than a Crown

Her latest attempt to cure her repulsion to anything that hinted on sexual had been positive-reinforcement-based training.

Ha-ha.

Two thousand dollars later and several pounds heavier, Trinity had decided that no amount of chocolate or affirmations were going to cure her particular problem.

She loved herself?

Most of the time, yes.

She’d just prefer not to be touched.

The meals were served and Trinity just picked at hers and refused wine. Despite what the newspapers said, she really only drank at family things.

Which it soon would be.

No.

As the cabin lights were dimmed Trinity tried to doze but Harry, as it turned out the baby was called, had decided now that he liked her. He kept patting her cheeks with his little fat hands.

‘Sorry,’ his mum kept saying.

‘It’s not a problem.’

Trinity tried to doze some more.

It didn’t work.

The only consolation to attending the wedding was that she had just found out that, though at first he had declined, Zahid was going to be the best man.

She hadn’t seen him since that night ten years ago and Trinity wondered what he would be like now, if he even remembered that kiss in the woods.

If he’d ever given her a thought since then.

Trinity closed her eyes and briefly returned to the rapture of being in his arms and the bliss of his kiss, but her eyes suddenly snapped open for she could not even escape to the sanctuary of them without recalling what had happened later that night and in the months that had followed.

There was so much adrenaline in her legs that Trinity tried walking around the sleepy cabin, dreading what she must face later today. How she’d hoped her mother would tell her that Clive and Elaine hadn’t been invited, how she wished her father, or even her brother, would step in.

No one ever had.

Skeletons belonged in the closet. Dirty laundry belonged in a basket.

Clive was more prominent than her father.

Nothing could be gained by speaking out. It was easier to simply smile for the cameras.

It wasn’t, though.

All too soon the scent of breakfast came from the galley and, opening the shutter, she saw dawn.

The wedding day was here.

Trinity returned to her seat, where Harry was shrieking. ‘Would you mind?’ his mum asked. ‘I have to go to the restroom.’

‘Of course.’

Trinity held Harry, who stood on her thighs with his knees buckling as he screamed and screamed. ‘Go, Harry!’ Trinity smiled. Wouldn’t it be lovely to be as uninhibited as Harry, to simply scream out your pain and not care a jot what others thought?

She didn’t get to hold babies much. All her family was in the UK and none of her friends in LA had babies yet.

The sting of tears in her own eyes was terribly unwelcome and Trinity swallowed them back, telling herself she was being ridiculous. There was no comparison, Trinity told herself as she looked at Harry.

He was all big and chunky and wriggling.

Whereas she had been so tiny and so very still.

The sob that escaped Trinity’s lips came from somewhere so deep and buried that even Harry stopped his tirade.

‘It’s okay.’ Trinity fought to quickly compose herself and smiled into his curious eyes as he patted her cheek. ‘I’m fine.’

Trinity had no choice but to be fine.

She just missed her baby so.

Ached for the time that her daughter had never had.

‘Thanks so much.’ Harry’s mum was back and Trinity handed him to her but the bubble of panic was rising inside her and Trinity truly did not know if she could get through today.

She pressed her bell.

‘Breakfast won’t be a moment.’ The steward smiled.

‘I’d like a bourbon, please,’ Trinity said. ‘A large one.’

A few minutes later the steward returned with two tiny bottles of bourbon and a pussycat smile that told Trinity she was a lush.

Trinity didn’t care.

At least it calmed her enough to get off the plane.

* * *

‘Where the hell is Trinity?’ Donald demanded, as he clicked off his phone. ‘Yvette’s in tears, there’s not a sign of her at the hotel...’

Here we go again! Zahid thought as he felt the pull of the mad Fosters’ vortex. A night out last night with Donald and co. and Zahid was remembering all too well why he chose only minimal contact. Gus had kept insisting that Zahid extend his visit, or come and stay later in the year, and Zahid had reluctantly explained that he would be marrying soon and his time was now to be spent in Ishla.

And now, it would seem, Trinity had gone missing in action again.

Nothing changed.

‘Why don’t I call Dianne and see if there’s an update?’ Zahid suggested, for it was the best man’s duty to keep the groom calm, but he had never seen Donald so tense. He made the call and then gave Donald the news. ‘Your mother’s at the airport and she says Trinity’s plane just landed. As soon as she is through customs, she will take her straight to the hotel and help her to get ready. Call Yvette and tell her that she can stop worrying.’

‘You can never stop worrying when Trinity’s around!’ Donald challenged. ‘I just hope she’s sober.’

It wasn’t Donald’s comment that had a certain disquiet stir in Zahid. It was his reaction to the news that Trinity had landed and that soon he would see her again.

Over the years there had been a few near misses. Zahid, when he had heard Trinity’s plane was delayed, had assumed that this would be another. But that she was in the same country now brought a strange sense of calm—the planets seemed more neatly aligned, the stars just a little less random. They were in the same country and finally, after all this time, they would see each other again.

He wondered if she would be bringing someone and briefly wrestled with the distaste of that thought but then dismissed its significance. It had nothing to do with feelings, Zahid quickly told himself. After all, it was possibly his last weekend in England as a single man and certainly there was unfinished business between them. It was natural to be hoping that she was attending the wedding alone.

* * *

Trinity didn’t have to wait for baggage and she raced out of customs, her heart aflutter. Despite everything, she was looking forward to seeing her mum. Maybe things would be different now, Trinity hoped as her eyes scanned the crowd for Dianne. Maybe her mum would realise just how difficult today was. Maybe...

Her heart lurched in hope as she saw her mum, dressed for the wedding, just minus a hat. Trinity raced over and gave her a hug. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Have you been drinking?’ was Dianne’s only response to her daughter’s kiss.

‘I had one bourbon on the plane.’

‘It’s whisky,’ Dianne hissed. ‘You’re in England now. Where the hell have you been?’

‘The plane was delayed.’

‘I don’t want to hear your excuses.’

Trinity could feel her mother’s fingers digging into her arms as they raced to get a taxi and Dianne didn’t let up as they sped to the hotel. ‘Yvette is in tears. She wanted her own sister to be bridesmaid and now you’ve made us look...’ Dianne struggled to contain her temper. It had taken many, many dinners to convince Yvette’s parents to choose Trinity for the role, but a generous helping hand towards the wedding bill had given them leverage and the Fosters had insisted that their voice be heard.

Oh, and so too would Trinity’s voice be heard, Dianne remembered. She just had to tell Trinity that! ‘I’ve told Yvette that you’re going to sing near the end of the night.’

‘Excuse me.’ Trinity’s mouth was agape. ‘I can’t sing.’

‘You’ve got a beautiful voice.’

‘Actually, I don’t.’ Trinity could not believe that they’d ask this of her. ‘Mum, please, I don’t want to sing, I just want to...’