One Moment in Time

ONE MOMENT IN TIME SHARI LOW CONTENTS Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Epilogue Acknowledgment More from Shari Low About the Author About Boldwood Books To Jan Johnston and Lyndsay MacAlister for Vegas, cocktails, a million coffees and years of laughter… And to my love, John, and our family - who are everything, always. PROLOGUE LAS VEGAS – 19 MAY 1993 Elvis threw his arms out to the side, making the tassels that dangled from his white leather jacket quiver. The Elvis Loves Me Tender Chapel of Las Vegas was his white-walled, plastic-flower-draped stage, and the four people standing in front of him were his audience. ‘Do you, Brenda Doris Fulton,’ he sang, in a slightly less impressive voice than the man who had actually been Elvis Aaron Presley, ‘…take this man, Colin Jones…’ That set off a flurry of tambourines from the three pink-clad backing singers that the advertising billboard called the Chapelettes, standing to the left of Elvis. ‘To be your hunka hunka burning love and husband until your last day on earth?” ‘I do,’ Brenda whispered, tears falling, and not just because the fluorescent strip lights above them were bringing on a migraine. Her response set the tambourines off again, and exclamations of ‘Praise be,’ rang out from the Chapelettes. ‘And do you, Colin Jones, take this woman, Brenda Doris Fulton, to be your wife and promise to love her tender until the day you die?’ Colin stared into her eyes and Brenda could see so many things there. Love. Fear. Uncertainty. Discomfort, because the air conditioning in the chapel was non-existent and either the heat or the occasion was making him sweat like a marathon runner. In the midday sun. Wearing a woolly jumper. ‘I do.’ ‘Then, by the powers invested in me by Viva Las Vegas, Nevada and the Lord, How Great Thou Art, I now pronounce you man and wife. May you never be lonesome at night or have suspicious minds. Amen.’ The opening bars of ‘The Wonder of You’ soared from a flashing boombox in the corner and Elvis and his Chapelettes sang two verses and the chorus while Colin and Brenda walked back down the aisle. They’d already signed all the forms and paid for the ceremony before it began – presumably in case they changed their minds and Elvis didn’t get his dosh – so they just pushed open the heavy wooden door and stumbled out into the humid, sticky Las Vegas night. And that’s when it hit them both. Brenda, in a white summer dress, was the first to speak. ‘Colin…’ she whispered, making eye contact and feeling an unaccustomed shyness. She’d known this man for three years and yet now they felt like strangers. ‘What have we done?’ If she was looking for a confidence boost, or an inspirational suggestion, she was searching in the wrong place. ‘I’ve no bloody idea, Brenda. And I’ve no idea what we do next.’ 1 ZARA March 2023 ‘How’s it going there, Inspector Gadget? Tracked him down yet?’ Millie asked, as she floated in from the front shop, bringing three buckets of white hydrangeas for the Miller nuptials centrepieces that night. It was a 6 p.m. wedding at one of the swankiest hotels in the city, so they had to be perfect. Glancing up from her laptop in the corner of their workroom, Zara took in the oh-so-together vision of her younger sister. Even at 9 a.m. in her standard workout wear (ironic, because she would have to be bribed with cash and wine to go anywhere near a gym), Millie oozed elegance and gorgeousness, all dark corkscrew curls, toned arse and Cheryl Tweedy dimples. Zara, on the other hand, with her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun held in place by a pencil, her three-month roots, her denim dungarees and Doc Martens boots, was more on the low-key side of the fashion scale. Or, as Millie frequently categorised it, Joiner-Chic. ‘Still searching, but I think I’ve found a possibility.’ Zara pulled the pencil out of her hair, and her waves creaked slowly down to her shoulders, reluctantly fighting against the half a can of dry shampoo she’d fired into it that morning. Usually, it was only Monday mornings that were 5 a.m. starts at the flower market in Glasgow, stocking up for the week at Blooming Sisters, their flower shop in the West End of the city. But a pre-dawn Friday run had been necessary this morning to pick up some extra blooms for this weekend’s events, so bouncy locks were bottom of the priority list. Especially when she’d had to do the run solo because Millie hadn’t come home from wherever she had spent last night. One of the very best things about their shop was that they also owned the two-bedroom flat above it. The flat had been a huge plus when they’d been looking for premises. For a start, it meant they were handy for late nights and early mornings at work, but also it meant they weren’t paying a separate mortgage or rent for somewhere to live. Working together and living together might be a problem for some siblings, but the reality was that out of work hours their paths rarely crossed. Zara’s boyfriend, Kev, would come over, and the two of them would chill in front of the TV. Millie, at the other end of the genetic pool party, was a serial socialiser. If there was a shindig anywhere in this city, then her sister would find herself there, yet, infuriatingly, she still rolled home at the crack of dawn, had a quick shower,