The special day - part 2

The suns rays had more than begun to contribute to the simmering heat and frustration that I was feeling as Joshua drove us in vain to a destination that we could not find. The September warmth was becoming a bit of a nuisance, as it reflected through the windscreen, glaring at us with its big beam. Warm air crept in via an ajar window. "I thought I knew where it was... I can't believe this, I can't believe this..." I was starting to feel uncomfortable, somewhat desperate.

We had been driving for some time and basically getting nowhere. Agitated, I was. Calm, I most certainly wasn't. It didn't help that my dad had called earlier asking where we where and that he couldn't believe that I was running late for my sisters wedding. The vitriol and condemnation in his voice had begun to haunt my conscious. I later found out that that statement was in jest. But, as we drove around in an unfamiliar section of Liverpool those potentially immortal words replayed constantly in my simmering mind.

"If you go up the road, take a left and a right, go down there, yes, er, yeah, it's by there..." said the man with the plastic arm. We couldn't help but fixate our gazes at the unusual plastic prosthetic as he leaned into the car window. He was about as convincing as his arm was to a real one. We followed his dubious directions until we ended up lost again. Joshua made a joke about the oddness of the man and although it was funny - I was in no mood to joke. I felt like beating the idiot man with his own false arm for sending us deeper into lost territory.

We stopped a further three differing looking people who we believed may have known where this phantom hall lay. A nondescript woman who was just useless. An African man, who barely knew what day of the week it was or indeed the city he had arrived in - never mind where we wanted to get to. He was probably just glad to be in the UK. And an older gentleman, who seemed to be the most on the ball. All to no avail. It was beyond demoralising, I remember thinking why are they taking so long with their long winded directions. They all seemed so relaxed. I just couldn't cope. James even thought about flagging a taxi and getting the driver to take him to the wedding venue so that Joshua and I could follow on. Unbelievably, the incompetent taxi driver had no idea where we wanted to go.

A deep, terrible feeling of despair and angst had already begun to seep through my body and mind. Those feelings jostled and wrestled one another as I began to feel a bit emotional. Would I actually miss my own sisters wedding? Could this really be a horrible reality? Time was steadily rolling down a steep hill and gathering considerable pace. The more I looked at my watch the faster it seemed to go. The more Joshua and James made idle jokes the more terribly agitated and annoyed I got. My initial gumption of leaving a little bit before the wedding - because I thought I knew where we were going, just down the road was completely and utterly shattered when Belmont Hall didn't transpire to be the same venue in which I had always envisaged it to be.

Frantic phone calls were made, I even spoke to my sister who sounded pretty fraught and basically rebuked me. Further compounding the escalating guilt and fear that was rapidly reaching boiling point within me. My mum's text messages were not helpful. Then...they stopped answering. I had no communication. They could no longer speak to me. If I missed this wedding would they even speak to me again? Would they forgive me? I would never, ever, live with myself if this became reality. The stupid area and horrible intertwining side streets had started to resemble an awful maze which grew increasingly more confusing and perplexing. This coinciding with the watchful sun that continued to beam down on on us, on me.

Then my phone rang, it was my dear cousin. We spoke, my heart was racing; he told me to listen, and listen very carefully...

Demola, TCC