A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do

by Jennifer Joyce

  I gasped, despite knowing it all worked out fine. Eric was alive and well and married to the nurse. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘My neighbour came round to help out. She’d given birth seven times herself and had delivered fifteen grandchildren. She just rolled up her sleeves and yanked him out.’

  By then, Nell wasn’t the only one feeling queasy.

  ‘Anyway, shall we get started?’ Greg asked and the whole room, bar an oblivious Mary, nodded in grateful agreement. ‘Great! Let’s warm up.’

  I somehow managed to get through most of the class without thinking about the wedding, and the ache in my shoulders had almost receded by the time I was rolling up my mat.

  ‘Are you coming for a drink?’ I asked Mary as I tucked the mat under my arm and grabbed my pink holdall.

  ‘I can’t tonight.’ Mary popped her own mat under her arm. ‘I’ve promised to show Cecil my downward dog.’ Mary winked at me before leaving the hall with a definite skip in her step.

  Twenty-Seven

  Ruth

  Our wedding plans were (very temporarily) put on hold as my birthday arrived – my thirtieth. How had that crept up so fast? Jared, having heard me bang on about Aidan and his hair-styling prowess since Trina’s wedding, had treated me to a bit of pampering at his salon before my party. My hair was washed by a surly-looking girl who couldn’t have been more than fifteen, yet had several piercings on her face and a tattoo snaking from her wrist, up to her elbow and beyond the sleeve of her black tunic. She looked a bit rough, but her hands were magical as they massaged the shampoo into my scalp.

  ‘Right then, what are we having done today?’ Aidan sat me in his chair and swivelled me around to face the mirror. I’d forgotten quite how cute he was with his messy (but styled) mop of black hair and eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled, which was a lot.

  ‘A bit of a tidy-up, please, and I’d quite like it to be sleek.’ I’d been blessed with a lovely natural curl, but if Jared was paying a small fortune for this – and believe me, he was – then I wanted something completely different to my usual look.

  Aidan grabbed a comb and a pair of scissors and began snipping. ‘Is this for a special occasion? Or just a treat?’

  ‘It’s my birthday.’ I hoped Aidan wouldn’t ask which one. I wasn’t quite ready to admit that I’d waved goodbye to my twenties.

  ‘Many happy returns. This calls for a celebratory drink.’ Aidan turned towards the rough-looking-but-magic-fingered girl and asked her to bring me a glass of champagne. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet – how very indulgent!

  Aidan worked his magic as I sipped the champagne, snipping away at the split ends before spritzing my hair with something fancy-looking then blow-drying it.

  ‘Have you seen Trina lately?’ Aidan asked as he ran some sort of serum through my hair. ‘She seems a bit lonely, especially with Rory being away in New York.’

  ‘I had no idea he was away.’ I hadn’t seen Trina since the wedding fair. Perhaps I should give her a call. Perhaps even invite her to my birthday meal. I was sure we could squeeze another chair around the table.

  ‘He went yesterday. Trina was pretty upset. I’m worried about her.’

  I smiled at Aidan through the mirror. ‘You really care about Trina, don’t you?’

  Aidan smiled, but there was a sadness in his crinkly eyes. ‘I do. She’s my best friend.’

  ‘Aidan.’ I placed my glass of champagne on the shelf below the mirror and clasped my hands on my lap. ‘Is it more than that?’

  Aidan’s fingers paused on the crown of my head and our eyes met in the mirror. He opened his mouth to speak – probably to deny any such thing – but, giving a sigh, he closed it again.

  ‘Do you love her?’

  Aidan’s eyes dropped from mine as he reached for a clip, busying himself with pinning up half of my hair. He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.

  Oh my God, he did! He was actually in love with my cousin. How romantically tragic. Quinn would have loved this.

  ‘Does she know?’

  Aidan grabbed a set of straighteners and let them glide through my hair. ‘I thought she did.’

  ‘What happened?’ It was none of my business, of course, but I couldn’t help myself asking. Aidan was well within his rights to tell me to mind my own, but he didn’t. Perhaps he needed someone to unload his feelings onto and I just happened to be nosy enough to ask.

  ‘We’ve been friends for years. We met here, through Gloria. I thought she was amazing but way out of my league.’ Aidan continued to glide the plates through my hair, unclipping and re-clipping at intervals. ‘But we became friends and it sort of grew from there. We were supposed to go to this dance at her dad’s golf club, our first official date, but I ended up missing it.’

  ‘You missed it?’ How could he? If he was supposedly in love with my cousin, why had he buggered up his chance?

  ‘I was involved in a car accident on my way there. Some idiot hit me while he was on his phone. I wasn’t too badly hurt, just a bit dazed, but they insisted I went to A&E to get checked out. I tried calling Trina but it turned out the handbag she’d planned to use didn’t go with her dress, so she went without one, meaning she had to leave her phone behind.’ Aidan met my eye and he gave a genuine smile, clearly loving my cousin and her little quirks. ‘By the time I got through to her, it was too late. She’d met Rory.’

  ‘Didn’t you fight for her?’

  Aidan shook his head. ‘She was besotted with him, not me. She made it clear we were better as friends.’ Aidan shrugged. ‘And she was happy. That’s all I want for Trina. For her to be happy.’

  We’d booked a table at Cosmo’s, the restaurant where, in just a few weeks, Jared and I would be holding our wedding reception. The restaurant was sweet and cosy, with framed paintings and photographs hung on the exposed brick walls, the tables covered with red-and-white checked tablecloths with flickering tea lights at their centre. My party took up a good chunk of the space as there were eighteen of us, including Trina, who’d been delighted by the last-minute invite.

  ‘Hey, Ruth, love, did your mum tell you how well I’m doing with the caragym?’ Dad asked from across the table. I groaned. We hadn’t even ordered our starters yet and he was already starting on that little gem. Predictably, Mum tutted at the topic.

  ‘Louie, the last thing I want to talk to my daughter about is that rusty old caravan.’

  This wasn’t technically true. Mum had struck up many conversations about the caravan since its purchase. All of them complaining about the bloody thing.

  ‘It’s coming on a treat, love.’ Dad’s chest puffed out as he shared his news. ‘I’ll be working out by the summer.’

  ‘Are you into all that health and fitness stuff?’ Linda asked and Dad’s chest deflated ever so slightly.

  ‘I will be. I have the equipment ready.’

  Mum grumbled about the equipment rendering her dining room a danger zone.

  ‘Maybe Jared can give you some pointers. He’s into keeping himself fit.’ Linda turned to her son. ‘You’ll be able to pass on some tips, won’t you?’

  Jared, bless him, glanced from Linda to Dad and then Mum, his loyalties being pulled in all directions. If he said yes, Mum would be fuming that he’d taken Dad’s side, but if he said no, Dad would feel rejected. The poor bloke couldn’t win. I decided it was my soon-to-be wifely duty to rescue him with a swift change of subject.

  ‘So, Trina. I hear Rory’s in New York.’

  And so a conversation about the Big Apple began, with Mum imparting the wisdom she’d learned via Stephen. She’d only been to New York twice, but you’d think she was a Big Apple Greeter the way she was going on. Still, it had saved Jared’s bacon, however temporary.

  ‘I propose a toast,’ Dad said later as we tucked into our main courses.

  ‘You’d better not be toasting that blasted caravan,’ Mum muttered.

  ‘Of course not.’ Dad glowered at Mum. ‘Although, maybe we should. It�
�s taken a lot of work, you know. It isn’t as easy as those TV shows make it look.’

  ‘Louie!’

  Dad jumped as Mum hissed at him, and he almost sloshed the drink he was holding over the pretty checked tablecloth. ‘I’m messing with you, woman. Do you really think I’d propose a toast to a bloody caravan? In front of all these people?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past you, you daft old sod.’

  I wouldn’t either, but an intervention was needed. Mum was starting to turn purple with rage. ‘Why don’t you just propose your toast, Dad?’

  Dad cleared his throat, looking around the table bashfully. ‘Yes. Good idea.’ He raised his glass. ‘I’d like to propose a toast to our Ruthie, my little baby girl who is all grown up now.’

  ‘To Ruth!’ our table chorused, raising their own glasses.

  ‘The next time we all meet here, we’ll be toasting Ruth and Jared as newlyweds.’ Dad grabbed his napkin and dabbed at his eyes. Mum’s face lost its purple hue as she took Dad’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, all thoughts of caravans and gym equipment forgotten. For the time being.

  Twenty-Eight

  Trina

  It was dark by the time Trina left Cosmo’s, but it was still only late afternoon in New York so she gave Rory a ring from the back of the taxi. She’d had a lovely time with Ruth and her friends, and it was nice to see her Aunt Vee and Uncle Louie again. Trina hadn’t grown up with a close family like Ruth had; her mother was always too busy being wooed by potential suitors, her father didn’t seem to care for anything but work, golf and women, and her sister wasn’t a people person at all, unless you were an adoring rich man. Sex and money, that’s all her family seemed to care about. Luckily Trina now had Rory and although they’d had a bit of a rocky start, she was sure their marriage would flourish once he was back from New York.

  ‘You’re through to Rory Hamilton-Wraith. Leave a message!’

  It had been the same ever since Rory had left. Whenever Trina phoned Rory, she was met with his voicemail, but then he had told her he would be incredibly busy. It was why she hadn’t joined him on the trip, after all.

  ‘Hi, babe. It’s me, Trina. I just thought I’d call and see how you are. Phone me back. No rush.’ She didn’t want to feel like she was pressurising her husband. It seemed all she’d done since their honeymoon was moan and nag, but all that was going to change. ‘I love you.’

  Popping her phone back into her handbag, Trina settled back in the taxi as it trundled towards the annexe. She wasn’t relishing the thought of spending the night there alone again, but Rory would be home in a couple of days. She’d already gathered information for a few potential properties for when he returned, and she was jolted with a flutter of excitement whenever she thought about their new home. It wasn’t that she was ungrateful for the use of the annexe, but it wasn’t very romantic living on the doorstep of your in-laws, was it? The annexe was already furnished, so Trina hadn’t been able to choose her own fixtures and fittings or put her own stamp on it. While the annexe was roomy and tastefully decorated, it was rather old-fashioned.

  ‘It’s the smaller building on the right,’ Trina directed the taxi driver as they entered the Hamilton-Wraith estate. Winnie waved as they made their way past the main house and scurried over to greet Trina as she stepped out of the vehicle.

  ‘Been anywhere nice?’

  Trina paid the driver and stepped out of the way as the cabbie set off again, happy with his healthy tip. ‘It’s my cousin’s birthday so she invited me out.’

  ‘How lovely for you.’ Winnie smiled at Trina but her eyes were far from friendly. ‘Rory’s away working hard and you’re out partying all night. I’d feel guilty about enjoying myself while my husband was slaving away, but we’re all different, aren’t we?’ She gave a false chuckle. Neither of them bought it.

  ‘I wasn’t partying all night. We went to a restaurant.’ Trina thought about the Blue Llama. There had been no fake chuckle or guilt about that. ‘And I do want to go back to work.’

  ‘Well, that just wouldn’t do, would it?’ Winnie’s mouth twisted. She was this close to ‘tsk’ing at her silly little daughter-in-law. ‘What if Rory needed you and you were too busy cleaning muck off a filthy old dog? Hardly an aspiring role, really, is it? Dog groomer.’ Winnie gave a haughty laugh. And running betting shops is something to be proud of? Trina thought, but wasn’t brave enough to voice it. ‘I’m sure it was fun while you were younger, but it’s time to grow up now. You’re a wife. Soon you’ll be a mother.’

  ‘Mums can work too, you know.’

  Winnie straightened, seeming to grow taller than her five foot three frame. ‘Not if they are Hamilton-Wraiths!’ Piercing Trina with one final glare, she turned on her heel and marched back to the main house.

  ‘Not if they’re Hamilton-Wraiths,’ Trina mimicked as she wandered into the annexe. So that was what Winnie expected of her: wife and mother. Full stop. It was clearly what Rory expected of her too, but that wasn’t going to happen. If Rory wanted a wife who was willing to mooch around at home all day (because Hamilton-Wraiths did not look after their own children or homes. They had nannies and housekeepers for that) and look pretty on his arm at social events, he should have married a woman like her sister. Tori had no ambitions or drive beyond marrying a wealthy man, but Trina wasn’t like that at all. She’d married for love and if Rory loved her too he would support her choices. She vowed to speak to her husband and make it clear that she intended to return to work as soon as possible. Grabbing her phone, she dialled Rory’s number. Part of her expected to hear the usual voicemail message, but Rory himself answered this time.

  ‘Trina, babe. I was about to phone you. I’m just leaving the office now.’

  Trina could hear the commotion of Manhattan life in the background, and yearned to be there with him. She’d always loved New York but they hadn’t experienced it together yet. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you. I’ve been so busy.’

  ‘It’s okay. I understand.’ Trina took a deep breath. This was her chance to let Rory know her intentions. What was the worst that could happen? ‘I need to speak to you about something.’

  ‘Just a second, babe. I’m about to get in a cab.’

  Deflated but slightly relieved, Trina listened as a muffled Rory gave an address to the driver before coming back to her. It struck Trina as slightly worrying that she was afraid of speaking her mind to her husband, but she quashed the feeling.

  ‘Are you going back to your hotel?’ Poor Rory. It must have been terribly lonely for him, being out in a bustling city all by himself. At least Trina had Aidan and Ruth – and Rory’s family, if she was feeling really desperate for company.

  ‘Not yet. I’m going to grab some dinner first.’

  ‘Alone? Wouldn’t it be easier to get room service?’ Trina couldn’t think of many things worse than eating alone in a restaurant, but Rory wasn’t one for grabbing a burger on the go.

  ‘I’m meeting someone.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good then.’ Trina should really get back to the subject of her employment status, but she found herself avoiding it for just a moment longer. ‘Who are you meeting? Someone from the office?’

  Rory cleared his throat. ‘Can I call you back? It’s just I’m almost there and you know how rude I think it is when people talk on their phones in restaurants.’

  Trina had never heard Rory object to this, but she could see his point. ‘I guess. It’s just that I had something important to tell you.’

  ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ The harsh tone of Rory’s question shocked Trina. They hadn’t been actively trying for a baby, but they both wanted to start a family and they were married now, so it wasn’t something to sound so alarmed at.

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  Rory breathed a sigh. ‘Thank God for that.’ A relieved laugh spluttered from his lips. ‘You had me worried there for a minute.’

  Worried? Why would a baby worry him? Yes, it would b
e a little sooner than planned but it would be a nice surprise. Wouldn’t it? Plus, it would give Trina something to do while she was stuck at home all day.

  ‘What was it you wanted to talk to me about then?’

  This was it. Fortifying breath. ‘I want to go back to work. Sooner rather than later.’

  There was silence from Rory, the only noise coming from the city as he emerged from his cab. Trina held her breath as she waited for his reaction.

  ‘How soon?’ Rory’s voice was slow and measured.

  ‘As soon as possible. I can’t be the kind of wife who sits at home all day. I enjoyed my job, Rory, and I miss it.’

  There was a whoosh of air down the phone, and Trina prepared herself for a tirade, prepared to defend herself and her decision, because defend it she would. The annexe was slowly suffocating her. She needed to get back out into the real world and become a useful member of society again.

  But Rory didn’t say a word. Instead it was a woman’s voice Trina heard over the line.

  ‘Hey, Rory. Guess who? Gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you were on the phone. I’ll meet you instead, yes? So sorry.’

  There was an awkward silence between them as the woman’s embarrassed giggles faded into the background. Trina finally found her voice – or one that was vaguely like her own.

  ‘Who was that? Why do I recognise her voice?’ Trina’s first thought was Carrington, but then she recalled seeing her sister-in-law that evening, just before she left for the restaurant.

  ‘I told you I was meeting someone for dinner.’

  ‘But who is it?’ She definitely recognised the voice. Was it someone from the UK office, someone she’d met at a function?

  ‘Relax, will you?’ Rory’s tone was smooth, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Not one teeny, tiny little concern. ‘It’s only Ginny.’