Week 5 - Up The Villa

Chapter 3 Reception and Honeymoon
Only a handful of guests decided to go to the reception after the shambolic wedding service. The Vicar seemed totally unsure what to do in the Church and admitted it was the first time he had had a groom jilted. Pete was desperately trying to keep me smiling, although I think his rendition of ‘Always look on the bright side of life’ was going too far. I felt really embarrassed for Becky’s parents. Her mum was trying to hide the tears that were running down her face and her Dad was just shaking everyone’s hands and saying, ‘It’s not like our Becky’. The photographer was still taking pictures of everyone. I told him he wouldn’t be getting any money for them, but he said we’d signed the contract so we had to pay the full amount. He also gloated that Fleet Street would buy these pictures. So I was going become a public laughing stock, ‘Jilted Jon’. Becky what have you done? Where do we go from here? The wedding cake was perched proudly on display at the far end of the room. Nan had wanted to strike the figure of the bride off the cake with her stick, but my Dad had convinced her not too.

Pete was great at handling the remaining guests and flatly refused to give any presents back. It’s funny being given cards for a wedding that didn’t happen. Seeing the name Mrs. Rebecca Sadler written on an envelope was also very unnerving. Just wish I could escape this and every awkward conversation. All this pity was too much. I wasn’t ill and no one had died. Whenever someone slagged Becky off I had to defend her. After all she was the lady I loved. Carol came up to me and gave me a hug and a little kiss. It was strange because Carol was the only person not dressed up for a wedding. She had come in a grey vest top that revealed her black bra straps and black jeans. Her hair was tied back to show that she hadn’t been getting dressed up for a special occasion. Of course, Carol, had known the wedding wasn’t going to take place. She probably even knew before me. It would be easy to ask Carol lots of questions about what had been going through Becky’s mind, but this wasn’t the time. I just wanted to get out of there.

What do I do next? Do I make a speech to the dozen remaining people, or should I just creep off. It was then that Pete showed me that I was right to choose him as my Bestman as he made an announcement that even made me smile. He said, ‘Look everyone it has been a difficult day so please can you all bugger off now so I can get the groom to Villa Park ready for kickoff’. Within minutes all the hangers on had gone and Pete was pushing Becky’s parents into a complete stranger’s car. My parents were trying to convince my Nan that Becky wouldn’t turn up now and my Nan was just saying ‘I told our Jonathan he should have given her more oral sex, girls like that kind of thing these days’. It just seemed that I was no longer in control of what I was doing and was almost watching from above as Pete took total control. He even retrieved Nan’s stick from the large bowl of trifle. Almost without me being aware Pete had now fastened me into the driver’s seat of his precious sport’s car. Pete claimed he had had far too much to drink so I would have to drive. In a way this was Pete’s attempt at reverse psychology. He hoped by driving I would have less time to think. What was the plan now though? Pete said that as the wedding had been postponed due to unforeseen circumstances that we could go to the game after all. He was trying so hard and even tried to make me laugh, but I didn’t know how I was feeling. Interestingly Pete revealed that he had his season ticket with him in case he had been able to escape from the wedding reception in time for the game. The only problem now was that I hadn’t been so forward thinking and as I had planned to be going straight to the airport after my reception I hadn’t had the foresight to pack my season ticket. It was still in my drawer by the side of my bed in the Lichfield flat I shared with Becky. Now is that the flat I ‘share with Becky’ or the flat ‘I shared with Becky’? The second question was what to do about my season ticket. We had time to get back to the flat and get the season ticket, but was that a good idea? Obviously not because I don’t think I am ready to have the big talk with Becky. Pete, of course, was well ahead in thinking here and said that we would just have to pop into the Villa ticket office and explain that I have forgotten my season ticket. It was impressive how Pete was handling this, although maybe he was avoiding mentioning what was really happening. Yes, it was important to discuss whether Tommy Johnson should play up front or not, but maybe a mention of my jilted state would have been helpful. Pete though had no idea how to deal with this. He had bought a book from WH Smiths on the role of the Best Man, but I doubt this mentioned anything about, ‘In the event of the Bride doing a Runner’.

Everything starts to seem normal again. It’s difficult to explain but suddenly it is a normal Saturday afternoon with Pete and me on the way to the Villa. A day that started off as my Wedding Day is now another Villa Park match day. To many people this already was a Villa Park match day, but to me I had almost forgotten the importance of Aston Villa against Derby County. The only difference to normal as Pete and I walked through the grounds of Aston Hall towards the Trinity Road was that we were dressed in suits and wearing button holes. Nobody seemed to acknowledge this fact and even when passing familiar faces we just exchanged smiles, nods and the occasional ‘we need three points today’. Pete was talking away about what impact Sasa Curcic will have on his debut. I put my hand in my pocket to find some change for my programme and instead pulled out the box containing the two wedding rings. For the first time today a tear started to roll from my eye. Pete didn’t notice, but I was being hit by reality now. Yes, it was vital that the Villa win today, but it paled into insignificance to the fact that tonight was not going to be my wedding night. As the ground came into sight and we walked down from the grounds of Aston Hall I hurled the box with the rings in high into one of the trees. Why I don’t know. Was it a symbolic throw or just a show of anger. The box landed about twenty feet away from where we were walking and I decided to leave it there. Pete didn’t even stop talking about our new signing from Bolton and how he would be the final piece of the jigsaw and bring the best out of Savo, but casually walked over to where I had thrown the box, picked it up and placed it in his pocket. For once I was completely stunned and as I approached the turnstile forgot totally that I hadn’t got my season ticket. Pete again took control and led me to the ticket office. This was the Pete who I had taken control of so many times at school and kept us out of so much bother.

Just as the players are running on to the pitch we arrive at our Trinity Road Lower seats. We have had these season tickets for twelve years now and everybody around us knew us. We were Pete and Pete’s mate. Yes, as we walked in we were greeted by ‘Alright Pete’ from several rows. Sometimes I felt a bit miffed that they didn’t shout my name, but then I wasn’t a Pete. It was like nobody shouted ‘Cliff’ when Cliff enters the bar in ‘Cheers’, but they all greet ‘Norm’. I decided to hide my button hole to avoid any embarrassing questions. I had told a few people at the game the previous Wednesday that I was getting married on Saturday, but I don’t think anybody was really that interested. I mean, why should they be it doesn’t effect how I am at the match. All these people we only know what we see of them at the match. Their home-life is something we don’t need to know about. Joe who has sat to my left for the past six seasons may well be an alcoholic lollipop man who dresses up in women’s underwear during the week, but to me at 3pm, on a Saturday, he is just Joe who can sometimes be a bit smelly and always listens to the half time scores on his radio.
As the game starts I begin to get more involved in it and think less about Becky. Although Pete throws me back to reality with a joke that I feel is unnecessary. He says, ‘what is the difference between Tommy Johnson and you?’ I should have known better but I said I didn’t know. Then came the punch-line, “Tommy’s going to score today, you’re not!”

The game went well first Joachim scored and then Tommy Johnson did get his goal although it was a penalty. I had seen the Villa win for a second time in three days so that was an unexpected bonus from the day that was going to be my wedding Day. Should I ring Becky and see how she is? I am really worried about her and just wanted to hear her voice so I can tell her everything is ok and I still love her completely.

“Where to now?” I asked Pete as we tuned into Sports Report on his car radio humming along to the famous theme tune. Pete looked surprised at my question and then waved the plane tickets to Edinburgh at me. Surely Pete wasn’t expecting me to take him on my honeymoon and ride down in a romantic horse-drawn carriage with him. Part of me thought why not, but the other part thought my case is back at the flat and everything else I need. Possibly including the one thing I needed to make my honeymoon complete - a bride. Pete had been great but I really didn’t want to go any further with this pretence that everything was ok. Anyway, being a cautious chap I had taken out travel insurance so I could probably get my money back. After explaining to Pete why exactly it wasn’t a good idea to go and making it clear that it wasn’t him it was me I asked Pete to let the hotel know. The idea of sharing a four-poster bed with Pete was not something I had ever previously contemplated. The last time I had shared a bedroom with Pete he had kept me awake all night with the loudest and least tuneful nasal snores I have ever heard. I handed Pete my phone. Within seconds Pete was using his poshist ‘brummie’ accent to try and flirt with a Scottish receptionist. He told the lady, “My friend mister Sadler was using the honeymoon suite tonight but regrettably his bride has just been killed so they won’t be able to make it”. Perhaps he was going for the pity vote. After a few “yes”, “yes” and “thank you” comments Pete finished the call. He then told me it was good news because not only would they give me a complete refund but they are offering me a fifty pound voucher against any time in the next six months I wish to book the honeymoon suite. Perhaps if I could convince Becky still to marry me in the next six months we will be fifty pounds up on the deal. Of course, convincing them that she has risen from the death might be difficult.

Next Week : Back to the flat..