Copyright 7/1/14 by Raymond Daley
The bride looked positively furious as we slapped the handcuffs onto her husband. At that point in the proceedings I’m sure their guests assumed that day had already reached its lowest point. There’s probably nothing worse than seeing your new husband getting arrested at the church.
Well. Almost nothing.
She looked like a volcano about to blow its top when we handcuffed her as well and started to read out the list of charges loud enough for everyone in the whole church to hear.
The worst of which being murder.
“I’ve killed no-one!” screamed the bride.
The groom wasn’t quite so vocal, especially after we’d already done the verbal cautions. No wish to be heard saying anything that could be taken down and used against him, especially not in a court of law. The bride however, loudly continued to protest her innocence.
“So you didn’t just give him a glass of poisoned champagne to drink, madam?” I asked her.
She went quiet all of a sudden. And the groom was already very silent any way.
I looked over at him. “And that was your idea too sir?” I asked the groom, who wasn’t even able to look me in the eye at that point.
“Did he love me at all? Did he lie to me?” the bride screamed.
“I’m not quite sure about actual love but he did want your money. Which he’d get when death did you part. So he could pay off his debts and move to Rio with his boyfriend,” I said to her.
It was the best man’s turn to avoid all eye contact at that point.
I looked at the groom. “Don’t worry sir. She had the exact same idea. Bump you off, inherit your money. Move to Cornwall with her cats. And her ex-wife. Only trouble there is you’ve nothing either, have you sir? Or you madam?”
I passed them the small paper cups. “Both you, drink these please. All of it.”
Protestations were ignored, as were the calls for Doctors or stomach pumps.
“No need for medical aid sir and madam. The anti-toxin was in the water you just drank. You’ll both live long healthy lives. In jail. Attempted murder and possession of a controlled substance. Take them away Sergeant. Sorry ladies and gentlemen. I’m afraid that the reception has been cancelled.”
Authors Notes:- Yes, it's another short one. I was struggling for ideas at the start of The Year Of Living Bradbury, it was the second story I'd written in the very first week. I apologise for how short and how terrible this is. This was sent to Every Day Fiction 13th March 2014, rejected 6th June 2014.