The Wedding of Rachel Blaine Page 9

  “Do you still love her?”

  I wait, but he doesn't answer. It's in his eyes, though; I can see the sadness, and the regret, and the sorrow.

  “That's all I needed to know,” I add, before turning and walking away.

  “Rachel, stop!” he calls after me. “Let me explain! Don't make a decision now! We've come so far! Please, just take some time to think about it! Rachel!”

  ***

  As soon as I reach my room, it all comes out.

  I shut the door and then I turn and step back, and slowly I slither down to the floor as I start sobbing uncontrollably. Somehow I managed to keep it all in, even when I was confronting Robert, but now all the anger and shock and shame is flooding out in great, unstoppable waves. I put my hands up to my face, to wipe away the tears, but then I realize that there's no point. All I can do is cry.

  I keep thinking back to the tender moments we had together. The laughter and the jokes, the romantic moments. I fell in love with Robert so fast, but did he just see that other woman whenever he saw my face? I've looked at pictures of her, we don't really look similar at all, but was he thinking about her when he was with me? Suddenly all those moments feel so hollow and twisted, and I'm starting to realize that – deep down – Robert must be an extremely sick individual.

  How do I explain this to people? My fiance, the man I thought was the love of my life, has turned out to be a serial liar who's still in love with a woman who went missing ten years ago. And for some sick, misguided reason he was trying to recreate that wedding now, with me as the new bride. I can't even begin to imagine what's been going on in his head, but people will be asking all sorts of questions. They'll also be talking about me behind my back, wondering how I could have been so stupid. Some of them will even be laughing at me.

  I can't face them.

  Not now.

  And certainly not on the morning of my now-canceled wedding.

  Suddenly filled with the realization that I have to get away, I scramble to my feet and race over to the wardrobe. I pull the doors open and grab my suitcase, tossing it onto the bed, and then I turn back to get my clothes. And then I stop as I see Grandma's wedding dress hanging right in front of me.

  For a moment, I think back to how I carefully brought the dress into the hotel. I was so determined to make sure that it arrived here safely, but now I realize that I was being a complete fool.

  As more tears run down my face, I step forward and very carefully take the dress out of the wardrobe. My bottom lip is trembling as I stare at the beautiful lace edges. I try to tell myself that I'll have another chance to wear this, but that doesn't help at all and right now I feel sick.

  I set the dress on the bed, taking care to not let it get creased, and then I turn back to the wardrobe.

  Suddenly I hear a knock on the door.

  “Rachel!” Robert hisses. “Please, let me talk to you! Things can't end like this!”

  I stand completely still, hoping that he'll just go away. I can't open the door. If I see Robert right now, if I see him ever again, I think I might actually hit him. I've never hit anyone in my life, but at the moment I'm not sure that I can entirely control myself.

  “Rachel, I understand why you're upset,” he continues. “The truth is, I brought you here for the wedding because I wanted to prove to myself that I was over Kim. And I did that. As soon as we arrived, I realized that Kim's the past. It's you I love, Rachel. Please, don't throw our love away. What we have together is worth fighting for.”

  I turn and look at the door.

  Is that it?

  Is that the best he's managed to come up with in the minutes since I left his room? I'm actually offended that he thinks I'd believe such a pathetic load of rubbish. I open my mouth to shout at him, to tell him to leave me alone, but I'm still hoping that he might just walk away.

  And then, suddenly, I hear him doing just that.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize that he's gone, but I also know that he'll be back. Glancing at the clock next to the bed, I see that it's a little after one in the morning, which means I can be on the road by two and back in London by the time the sun comes up. I'm sure my phone will start ringing around then, as people start to hear that I've left, but I'll let Robert explain everything. Or Mum. I just can't face all the guests right now.

  I turn to go back to the wardrobe, but as I do so I glance at Grandma's dress on the bed, and I stop as I see that the dress seems to be moving slightly.

  I tell myself that I'm wrong, but as I step closer I see that the front of the dress is rippling a little. Reaching down, I carefully start to lift the dress up, and slowly I begin to see that there's something wriggling on the inside of the fabric. With a growing sense of horror, I tilt the dress until I can see inside, and finally I see that there are several worms in the dress.

  And slime.

  And a terrible, rotten stench.

  Suddenly several small, tick-like spiders come tumbling out.

  Gasping, I drop the dress and take a step back. I stare at the fabric, convinced that I have to be imagining all of this, but the movement continues and after a moment I step closer and take another look.

  Worms are wriggling out from inside the dress now, along with maggots. The stench is getting stronger and stronger, and after a few seconds I see a cockroach crawling out from one of the arms. The bug's antennae twitch as they scratch and brush against the fabric.

  “Get away!” I gasp, grabbing a towel and using it to brush the disgusting creatures off the dress, but more and more of them are starting to crawl out and finally I realize that I'll never get them all off.

  A thick, milky-white maggot starts slopping into sight.

  The smell is horrific and all-consuming.

  I reach into the wardrobe and grab the plastic laundry bag from the bottom, and then I very carefully slip the dress inside and tie the top. I have no idea how all those insects got into the dress, but I can figure the problem out once I get back to London. There's no way I'm going to leave Grandma's dress here, and the bag should at least keep the bugs contained. I just hope they don't cause any actual damage.

  I grab the rest of my things and toss them into the case, and then I unplug my phone. Once I'm certain that I've got everything, I stop for a moment to get my breath back and then I carry my suitcase and the plastic bag over to the door.

  As soon as I get the door open, I find myself face-to-face with Robert.

  “Get out of my way!” I say firmly. “I'm not -”

  Before I can finish, he grabs my shoulder and spins me around, and then a sudden knock to the back of my head sends me thudding unconscious to the floor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My eyes flicker open, and the first thing I realize is that I'm freezing cold.

  I start to sit up, only to find that I'm flat on my back with my wrists tied to something. I'm in darkness, and it takes a few seconds before I realize that I'm out in the forest, on the pagoda that Robert was fixing earlier. There's something stuffed into my mouth, and when I try to call out I find that all I can manage is a faint, muffled groan. I pull on the ropes around my wrists, but they're tied far too tight.

  And I'm wearing Grandma's gown.

  I somehow manage to sit up, since my feet aren't tied to anything.

  Looking down, I'm shocked to see that – while I was unconscious – I was put into my grandmother's wedding dress. At that moment, I realize I can feel bugs creeping and crawling inside the dress, pressing against my skin. I wriggle and try to get away from them, but of course that's impossible. There must be hundreds or even thousands of them, in every fold and crease, in my belly button and my armpits and everywhere else. A moment later, a centipede starts crawling out from inside the dress, scratching its way across my skin. No matter how hard I try, I can't manage to shake it away.

  Filled with panic, I look around, but as my eyes adjust to the darkness I can still only see the sides of the pagoda all around me.

 
And that's when I remember Robert coming to my room.

  “Get out of my way!” I snapped at him. “I'm not -”

  And then what?

  He spun me around, and then everything went dark, and now the back of my head hurts.

  I instinctively try yet again to pull away from the ropes, but they're too tight. Next I try shaking my wrists in an attempt to break the pagoda's wooden boards, hoping to maybe slip out that way, but this decrepit-looking structure somehow manages to hold firm. I look around, hoping against hope that I'll see something – anything – I can use to my advantage, and finally I look over toward the top of the steps and for a few seconds I watch the dark forest.

  Where is he?

  Obviously Robert brought me out here, but why? Is he really so completely insane that he think kidnapping me is a good idea?

  I can still feel worms and maggots slithering inside the dress. There are thousands of them, and probably tens of thousands of tiny legs.

  A moment later, hearing a faint creaking sound, I turn and look to my left. All I see are the sides of the pagoda, and beyond that another section of the dark forest.

  Suddenly there's another creak, and I turn again. Then the creak comes from a different direction, then another, and I keep looking all around until suddenly the sound comes from straight ahead.

  This time, I see Robert making his way up the steps. He's walking slowly, as if he's exhausted, and he stops as soon as he sees me staring at him.

  “Let me go!” I try to shout, but the gag in my mouth is too strong. Still, I can't help myself. “Robert! Please!”

  I pull once again on the ropes, and then I freeze as Robert comes the rest of the way up the steps and makes his way closer.

  Looking up at him, I wait for him to speak. He has a strange blank expression on his face, although after a moment he crouches down in front of me. He looks so calm and thoughtful, almost contemplative, as if this whole horrifying situation is somehow completely normal. As he stares at me, he looks like a man who thinks everything is finally going his way.

  “This isn't how it was supposed to end,” he says finally, his voice sounding so weak and bare out here in the cold night. “You didn't drink the champagne, did you? I had a suspicion that you'd tossed it away, but I couldn't be sure. If you'd just drunk the champagne, Rachel, you'd never have had to know about any of this. The plan was always to knock you out before you knew anything was wrong. I was determined to save you from all that pain. I went to great lengths to protect you.”

  He reaches out to touch the side of my face, but I pull away. He tries again, and I manage to pull back.

  “I really loved you,” he continues, with his hand still held out toward me. “You have to believe that. It's just that Kim was...”

  His voice trails off.

  “How can I explain it so that you'll understand?” he adds finally. “I could have been perfectly happy with you, Rachel. You're kind, and you're pretty, and you're funny. In any other situation, I'd have been totally content to be your husband. But the thing is, I can never forget Kim. If you'd met her, you'd know what I mean. She was the brightest, happiest, and most perfect woman I could ever imagine. She burned through my life, and I lived for her. Everything was perfect, she was going to be my wife, and then on the night before the wedding...”

  Again, he falls silent for a moment.

  “It was an accident,” he continues after a few seconds. “We went swimming in the lake. She'd had a couple of drinks, but nothing much. And then, as we were getting out of the water, she fell and hit her head. People hit their heads all the time, Rachel, but she was unlucky. I remember the sound of the thud, and then the splash as she dropped back down into the water. At first I thought she was joking, but then I saw her lifeless body in the water. By the time I pulled her out, I already knew that she was gone. I could just sense it, somehow. My perfect girl was dead.”

  His face twitches slightly.

  “Later, they said she might have killed herself. Can you believe that? They looked at her emails and her search history, and they claimed she showed hints of self-harming behavior. But that's rubbish! She was happy! I know she was!”

  He closes his eyes, as if he's reliving that moment.

  “I didn't know what to do after she died,” he continues. “I didn't want to tell anyone, because then it'd seem more real. And then Kim reached out to me, straight into my mind. She told me that there was a way to bring her back. But you can't let the body get taken apart, you can't let it have a postmortem or anything like that, it has to remain intact. And you can't let it be placed in sacred ground, because then the soul is committed to the afterlife. So I did the only thing that made sense. I buried her, out here in the forest, and then I claimed that she'd simply vanished. I suppose it shouldn't have worked, and maybe it wouldn't have done, except that just after I finished, there was a sudden storm. The whole forest was completely soaked, the ground everywhere was turned to mud.”

  Realizing that he's completely insane, I try yet again to figure out how to get help.

  “And I've heard her voice ever since,” he adds, opening his eyes to reveal that they're glistening with tears. “She's been guiding me. She was always very interested in witchcraft, so I guess that's how she knew what to do. She told me, in my head, that I needed to bring someone else here. She told me that if I did that, she'd know how to come back. She could do it all, just so long as I brought someone here. Someone like her. It took a long time, but here we are. And now...”

  He pauses, and then he reaches into his pocket.

  I immediately try to scream as I see him taking out a knife.

  “Don't panic,” he says, leaning toward me. “Rachel -”

  Before he can continue, I manage to kick him hard in the chest, sending him thudding back with such force that he drops the knife.

  “Damn it, Rachel!” he snaps as he gets back up and grabs the knife again. “What do you think I'm going to do, cut your throat?”

  He edges closer. I try again to kick him, but this time he's ready for me and he manages to slip around the side of me and put a hand against my chest. No matter how hard I try to struggle, I can't knock him away, and I'm powerless to fight back as he reaches up and presses the knife against my left hand. I feel a sharp pain running across my palm, and when I look up I see that blood is running from the wound.

  He takes a plastic cup from his pocket and uses it to catch some of the blood. Struggling to get enough, he squeezes the wound hard until more drops fall.

  “That's all I needed!” he says firmly. “It's a sign for her, to let her know that you're ready.”

  He pulls away. I try again to kick him, but he hurries down the steps and then stops for a moment. I watch with a growing sense of horror as the tips he cup over, pouring the small collection of my blood onto the ground.

  This is crazy.

  He's actually lost his mind.

  Once he's emptied the cup, he looks out at the forest for a moment and then he turns and comes back up to join me. He seems tired, but also wired, as if he's waiting for something.

  “It'll take a few minutes for her to get here,” he explains. “I don't know the exact process, she just told me what I need to do in order to play my part. But I had to use your blood to lure her here, because you're the one she's going to...”

  He hesitates, staring at me, and then he offers a faint, half-hearted smile.

  “Why couldn't you just have drunk the champagne?” he asks finally. “If you'd just drunk the champagne, you'd be unconscious right now. You wouldn't have had to know about any of this, you'd just have slipped into unconsciousness and you'd never have woken up. It would have been painless as she slipped into your body and took control.”

  Never have woken up?

  I pull yet again on the ropes. I need to get free, but I don't know how.

  “It won't take long,” he continues. “I'm sure it'll be over quickly, Rachel. I just want you to remember that I truly love you,
and that I'm only doing this because of Kim. I wish I could find another way, but she keeps insisting that this is the only option. And she likes you, Rachel. While we've been together, she's told me several times that she approves of you. In fact, when I first met you, she immediately said that you'd be suitable. I hope you can take some consolation from that fact. It's just that my poor darling Kim needs a new body.”

  Staring at him, I realize that he's serious. He actually thinks that any of this is going to be of comfort to me.

  And then, suddenly, I realize that I can see something moving in the distance, out in the forest.

  My first thought is that I'm going to be saved. Somehow, someone has come wandering out here in the middle of the night, and they're going to see me and rescue me. Maybe it's Becky, or Mum, or one of my uncles, or some other half-cut party-goer who stayed up after everyone else went to bed, but they'll sober up as soon as they see what's happening.

  Robert is still crouching in front of me, with his back to the moving figure. He doesn't know that anyone has spotted us, which means that he can't stop them.

  I wait, trying to stay calm as Robert continues to tell me that I'm lucky, but then my gaze shifts and I feel a flicker of fear in my chest as I see the figure getting closer and closer. I tell myself that I'm wrong, that what I'm seeing can't be what I'm really seeing, that this all has to be some kind of illusion. But she's coming closer now, and my eyes open wide with horror as I see the truth.

  It's a woman in a white wedding dress, with a veil covering her face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I try to scream, but I can't. The gag in my mouth muffles the sound, and I can only pull back against the pagoda's wooden slats.

  “What is it?” Robert asks, before turning and looking over his shoulder. “She's here!”

  The bride is slowly walking this way, emerging from the darkness of the forest. Her gloved hands are hanging at her sides, and her dress seems almost to be glowing in the moonlight. Finally, as she reaches the steps, she stops and then leans down.