Mum frowns. ‘Sorry dear?’
‘Well, they don’t just disappear into the ether, do they? We’re all very environmentally conscious these days you know, we recycle everything including the guys.’ I hope Andy was considered not fit for recycling and dumped in a landfill site with all the crap nobody cares about.
‘Well, you don’t want second hand, do you dear?’ She’s back in full flow.
‘Run-in could be an advantage, well, it is with cars.’ Dad’s contribution is accompanied with a wink. ‘Upcycling,’ he adds with a grin.
‘Right now, I don’t want to upcycle, recycle, down cycle or do anything on a cycle. Or with a man!’ I think I’ve made myself clear. All three of them fall silent. ‘I invited Freddie because I owe him.’ Oops, they all look interested again. ‘For bringing my dress, and for Brighton.’ Why did I say that? I so wasn’t going to.
‘But you’ve never been to Brighton! Old people go there don’t they?’
Dad shakes his head at Mum. ‘No dear, that Jamie Oliver went there, don’t you remember? We watched him on the TV with his friend. Cooking.’
‘That was Southend-on-Sea. On the pier.’
‘Well, it’s similar. They had lots of young people eating with them.’
‘I think they were film crew. Television people do that you know, they’re not the real people who actually live there you know. They’re drafted in! I mean, look at all those people Nigella invites round for lunch!’
I want to scream.
Mother turns her attention back to me and frowns. ‘But why would you go there? Your little photographs aren’t that famous, are they dear?’
‘Look, you couldn’t go to bed, could you?’
‘Well, it is rather late. You won’t be long, will you? Shall I turn your sheets down?’
‘Mum!’
‘Cocoa?’
I growl.
They go. Dad is chuckling. Which is sweet, though he winks at Freddie again. Not so sweet.
Things are getting a bit desperate when even your parents are trying to force you into bed with a man, aren’t they?
The silence resettles.
‘What happened at the party then? How did it go?’
‘It was totally weird.’ I stare at Freddie, swaying on the spot. Me, not him. He’s got thick eyelashes, I’ve not noticed them before, and I’m suddenly dying to get in close and study them better. ‘I mean, the whole bridesmaids thing is a bit of a ’mare, what with Mads and Sal, and Jack, who was there. But Andy wasn’t.’ He nods. ‘But she’d also invited this girl I’ve not seen for yonks.’
‘Come on.’ Freddie pats the space on the sofa next to him. He is totally chilled and at home, even though he’s never been here before. ‘Come and tell Uncle Fred all about it.’
I want to make some clever comment, but I can’t. Instead I crash down, and Freddie drapes a heavy arm round my shoulders. It feels comforting and nice. Safe.
‘Come on, spill.’
‘What do you mean, spill?’
‘Well, you getting this bladdered isn’t normal.’
‘I’m just tired.’
‘Aww, Jane.’ Freddie laughs softly and hugs me a bit tighter. ‘You look nearly as cut up as you did when your boss did the dirty, what’s happened now?’
I spill. I find that several drinks remove my ability to hold back. ‘God this wedding is going to be such a disaster. I’m worried about her getting married.’ It bursts out abruptly.
Freddie grins. ‘Oh. I get it now, you’re jealous?’
‘No!’ I pummel him with a cushion, then realise it’s one of Mum’s best ones and she’ll kill me, so I plump it back up.
‘Oh, hell, shit, sorry. It’s the whole wedding thing, isn’t it? Still hate them, do you?’ Freddie pulls an apologetic face.
He knows all about my cancelled wedding. He helped Rachel pick up the pieces after the hen party that will not be mentioned. That’s how he got to know her. They bonded over my broken heart.
‘Jane?’ Freddie’s soft voice brings me back to the present.
‘It’s not that.’ I know everybody will think it is. ‘I don’t hate weddings, just my own, I do actually like weddings,’ I nod vigorously as though that will make it true, ‘other people’s weddings, but I don’t like Michael. How can she do it?’
‘This is just about Michael?’
‘It is.’ Even though I walked out of the party resolving to leave well alone, I’m finding it tricky now they’re not in front of me looking all loved-up. I am also feeling guilt.
Freddie shrugs, and hands me a beer and despite (or maybe because) of the fact that I’ve already drunk far too much, I take a swig. ‘But it’s not you who’s marrying him is it? It’s Rachel, so if she thinks he’s okay, if she loves him and he …’
‘But he’s not okay, she just can’t see it.’ I slump down a bit further in my seat. It’s hard to put into words, but I’ve always thought she could do better, and that she’d realise that and move on. Not marry him.
‘You don’t think maybe Michael is okay, but the whole Andy thing has made you, you know a bit …’ His words are tentative, I can see he’s struggling for the appropriate word, so I help out.
‘Paranoid?’
‘No, I wasn’t going to say that, I was thinking wary.’
‘You just think I’m over thinking this don’t you?’ I have to admit, that deep down there is a niggling doubt that maybe Michael is fine, and it’s just me making a big deal out of some silly incident that happened over a year ago. That he’s forgotten all about it, brushed it under the carpet, realised just how much Rach means to him. And he’d never do it again. Maybe all this has blown up in my head because I feel so guilty about not telling her at the time. But it doesn’t help that I just don’t like him.
‘I’m just wondering if maybe you’re just not quite as trusting as you might have been?’
‘Trusting’s the word. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him, which believe me isn’t far at all. In fact, I’d have to push him.’
Freddie grins, and I giggle back, then get serious again.
‘I’m really worried he’ll let her down, that she’s making a massive mistake. I don’t like him.’ It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Freddie all about Michael and Lexie, but I shouldn’t. It’s my secret. The less people who know about it the better. That’s the whole point of a secret, isn’t it?
‘Aww, Janey.’ Freddie hugs me, he’s good on the hugs front. ‘You don’t have to like him. Not all guys are like Andy you know, we’re not all stupid twats who don’t know a good thing when we see it.’
‘He was terrible at school, he was always messing her about.’ That’s where it all started, my distrust of Michael. It’s hard to forgive and forget a guy who’s made your best friend sob her heart out.
‘Maybe he did it to make her jealous? It could have just been all front, showing off?’
‘Or maybe he’s just a randy sod.’
‘We were just kids.’ His voice is soft.
I nod. He’s right, what Michael did as a teenager at school really shouldn’t count against him now. They were just kids, playing around, playing at love. I could have drawn a line under all that, laughed it off I guess. If it hadn’t been for Lexie. The girl who’d made me wonder if he’d ever grow up. The one I can’t tell Freddie about.
I let my head fall onto Freddie’s shoulder, and fight to keep my eyes open.
‘I’m sure he’s grown up.’
I’m sure Freddie has to be right, it will all be fine. Michael will have grown up and be a different man.
‘I just don’t get …’
‘You’re not supposed to get other people’s love, Jane. Are you? You’re just supposed to be happy for them.’ He shrugs.
‘But I don’t think he’s her one.’ Would Freddie see this differently if I told him the whole truth? That it wasn’t just silly childhood kisses that are bothering me?
‘Who knows? Maybe they both want comfort, c
ompanionship.’
‘We’re not still in the eighteenth century!’
He ignores me. ‘Maybe having the chance to watch the movies with her fave man, share his life just for a bit is better than not at all … all different reasons.’
‘You make it sound like he’s got some illness and is about to die. I do not wish he’ll die, honest, I just wish he’d walk away if he doesn’t mean it. That this isn’t some one-upmanship – marrying her just to stop her going off with somebody else.’
‘Maybe he does mean it, or maybe she loves him enough not to care.’
That bit makes me blink. ‘Can you love someone enough not to care?’
Freddie just shrugs.
‘But what if he doesn’t love her, enough?’
‘That’s a chance we sometimes have to take, isn’t it, Jane?’ His voice is soft. ‘Sometimes we just have to trust that our instincts are right. I know you did, and it didn’t work out. But shit happens. Maybe it won’t for Rach.’
‘But what if it does?’
‘It’s her choice, her chance, isn’t it? If she loves him, and she doesn’t go through with it, then she’ll be like your mate Maddie, won’t she?’
I think of poor Mads. And the one she let get away, the one she accidentally pushed away, and my heart actually physically contracts painfully.
Or I’ve got bad indigestion from the beer.
Freddie has a point though.
Michael can’t be the one Rachel let get away. Even if I’m right. But, dear God, I hope I’m wrong. I love her too much to see her in the state I was.
‘It might never happen Jane. It probably won’t. Nobody saw a problem for you, did they? And …’ he pauses, ‘maybe he just is a bit of a jerk, but he’s got it out of his system now. I bet his parents are a fine example of married life.’ He grins, then squeezes my hand. I hadn’t realised our fingers had somehow got entangled. ‘You can’t live her life.’
‘I know.’ I say sadly. I look up at him. ‘I’ve got enough trouble sorting my own life out, so I’m obviously crap at knowing what love is, it’s just …’ I’m about to tell him about Michael, about what I saw. About the moment when I’d suddenly been so sure that he was a louse. But I stop myself. Some secrets are better not shared.
‘Your life is fine, you’re fine.’ He edges up the sofa, disentangles himself.
I sigh, feeling the coldness of the gap between us. ‘It’s not just Michael, though, it’s Mads and Sal, I mean, Jack’s going to be there. And then there’s Beth, the one I hadn’t seen for yonks, who just loves winding Sal up.’ I bury my face in my hands. ‘When we’ve all had a drink I just know it’s going to blow up.’
‘And you promised Rachel you’d be her barrier?’ He smiles, a softer gentler smile than his normal cheeky grin.
‘I feel like I’m one sandbag against a tsunami.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t call you a sandbag.’
‘I feel like a sandbag.’ I feel all comfortable and heavy, and like I never want to move again.
‘Come on.’ He prods me in the ribs. ‘I guess I need some shut eye before I set off for the back of beyond.’
‘Shit sorry, it’s so late.’
I don’t want him to go though. I’m selfish. I talk just to keep him here. ‘Is it nice? The outer Outer Hebrides?’
‘Beautiful. The most wonderful place you can imagine. You can be yourself there.’ He ruffles my hair as he walks round the back of the couch.
My ‘take me with you’ reaches him as he hits the stairs. He turns, winks, ‘one day maybe. That would be nice.’
‘I’ve got to make this the best day ever for Rachel, haven’t I?’
This is my moving on, wiping out Andy and my horrible nearly-wedding forever.
‘That’s what friends are for. Night Jane.’
‘Night Freddie.’
I lie down on my bed and look up at the ceiling. It’s painted midnight blue, with twinkly stars and every time I look at it, I’m taken back to my childhood and simpler times. It’s the perfect ceiling for meditation and pondering life, the universe and everything.
I wonder what Freddie means about being himself in the Hebrides, I thought he always was himself. My eyes are gritty; I close them and the room doesn’t spin, it whooshes. As though I’m in a boat, on the water, and I’m rowing all the way to the Outer Hebrides to see a man and a dog and a beautiful sunset.
Chapter 15
‘How do you feel?’ Rachel is sitting at what has always been our favourite table in the transport café at the edge of town. We used to come here when we wanted to get away from everybody. We could plot in private, and not be found.
Meeting here is like a reunion, a chance to catch up before we face the fray. Sorry, enter the bridal shop. Last night, it had seemed like a good idea, and we’d laughed about having our greasy spoon hangover cure. This morning a long lie-in seemed like a better idea.
A bit queasy is the understatement of the year. I don’t think staying up until 4 a.m. drinking beer with Freddie was a very good idea.
‘I feel like I did after your 21st birthday party.’
We’d raided her parents’ drinks cabinet and regretted it for days afterwards. I think it was the mix that did it, and the fact that we were both on some weird grapefruit and kiwi diet. Who knew you could puke long after all the multi-coloured contents of your stomach had been emptied down the toilet?
‘Me, too. That’s why I thought we should come here! I’ve ordered.’ She grins.
I grin back. Not sure whether our hangover cure of a greasy breakfast will still work these days. Or whether it would send me running to the bogs, which you honestly don’t want to run to. They always used to be a toilet paper free zone where you had to hold your nose to stop yourself gagging.
This is going to be kill or cure. At least it’s taking my mind off the idea of going to a bridal shop and looking at dresses, which made me feel all trembly when I got out of bed this morning.
At least if I end up puking or coming over all faint, I can blame the breakfast now and not the fact that the very thought of wedding shopping has brought me out in a cold sweat.
‘Here you go, my lovely.’
Two plates of food appear, and they look quite different to how I remember. No grease in sight. I sniff cautiously. My stomach only lurches a little bit, and the smell of bacon makes my mouth water. In a good way I hasten to add.
We eat in silence. Slowly at first, then speed up when we both realise that what is going down is staying down.
‘Crumbs, I needed that.’ I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth and take a good gulp of coffee. I still feel pretty ropey, but human ropey rather than zombie ropey.
‘Heard from Queen Coral?’
‘Nope.’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve decided I’m going to forget her and enjoy my break! Now come on, tell me about your bloody wedding plans. I can’t believe we didn’t get chance to talk about them last night!’
‘It’s all so totally amazing.’ She’s hugging her mug of coffee and has that dreamy look in her eye. ‘And,’ she really is glowing now, ‘we’re getting our dream house! His parents and mine clubbed together to give us money towards the down payment on this new house on the Laidlaw estate. Oh, gosh, Jane, you should see the plans, it’s going to be amazing!’
The Laidlaw estate is one of those posh, gated-community places. The type with security cameras and gardeners. ‘Wow! That’s fabulous.’ If it had been anybody else I’d have worried that their motivations for marrying Michael were suspect, but Rachel is doing it for love. I know she is. And, actually, her parents are better off than his anyway.
‘It’s got four bedrooms!’
I am speechless. Four bedrooms means it’s a family house, she must be expecting twins or triplets or something. ‘Impressive, you’ll be well set up for a family.’ How do I say this? ‘If you’re, er, planning on starting one, like soon?’
Her face falls slightly, which makes me wish I’d never asked. ‘I’d love to,
but Michael says it’s for the future, he doesn’t want to rush things. He says we’re too young and he’s not ready for the huge responsibility, he wants it to be just the two of us for a while. Isn’t that nice?’
‘Ace.’ I have to stop thinking negative thoughts, but there are two rocketing round in my head. First, Michael doesn’t want responsibility and secondly at least if there’s no baby and it all goes wrong … which it won’t. Of course, it won’t.
‘I’ll bring the plans next time we meet up, if you’d like to see them that is? I get to pick my own kitchen, and everything.’
‘Of course, I want to see your house! So what kind of kitchen?’
Picking out electric appliances isn’t really on any wish list of mine but each to their own.
‘It’s so difficult to choose, but Michael is great. He’s got this image in his head already. I wasn’t sure about the whole minimalist thing, but he’s persuaded me. It’s timeless, you know.’
Sexploits aside, this is just one of the things that’s always made me wary about Michael. He persuades Rachel to do stuff and he’s gradually taken away her ability to decide what she really wants. I know relationships are all about compromise, but it always seems to be her that is always giving way. A bit like the toxic relationship I have with Coral, but that’s called boss and employee. It’s acceptable, even if it’s not very nice. And it’s a stepping stone, I’ll be moving on when the time is right. But the time to move on from your marriage is never supposed to be right, is it? Gaining two years of experience before quitting for a new challenge isn’t exactly de rigueur, it’s not the done thing at all.
‘You don’t fancy something with character, you know, a bit different?’
‘Well, I did see some nice stuff, but he’s right, we’ve got to go with the house, what will work.’
‘Great, can’t wait to see it!’
‘He’s been ace over the wedding plans as well, I don’t know how we’d have done it without his ideas, and he’s so busy at work as well.’
‘Fab!’ The niggle in the pit of my stomach grows. Why does this all feel like it’s all about Michael and what he wants? ‘What have you decided on, where are you getting married?’ I just know she’s either going to name the poshest restaurant in town, or the small estate with the Jacobean hall on the outskirts. She’s lusted after both places since she was sixteen. Our dream wedding locations. Well, apart from a Caribbean island, but I’m not sure that’s Michael’s bag. He’s the type that broils in the sun.
Bridesmaids: The funniest laugh out loud rom com of 2019 – the perfect beach read! Page 12
