*
7.30 p.m. I just watched my best mate and her husband dance like fools to ‘Kiss’ by Prince. It was glorious. There was no attempt to be graceful during their first dance, it was balls to the wall, sexy moves from the first beat. Lucy looked so happy, I started crying – my mascara once again ruined – but I didn’t care.
We all joined after the first chorus, even the Hamilton clan who by now were ten sheets to the wind but happy with it. Molly and Oliver performed some sweet moves they’d obviously been practising and Lucy, Hazel and I danced like we always did, like everyone was watching.
*
7.50 p.m. Kelly and Brian were deep in conversation. His hand brushed against hers and she touched his leg. PERVERTS.
*
8.45 p.m. I’d almost forgotten that Frank had been invited until I saw him stroll in with Sarah Ward-Wilson and her black, satin Moschino dress. Being in the best mood ever, I, Chief Bridesmaid Henderson, graciously said hello and welcomed them before returning to my seat at the table. I would have been happier if they hadn’t followed me back and sat down but hey, nothing was going to spoil my day.
‘She looks wonderful,’ Frank said, waving over at Lucy. ‘Really super.’
‘She does,’ Sarah chimed in. ‘What a beautiful dress. It’s very . . . unusual. Frank, why don’t I get us some drinks? You and Phoebe can catch up.’
Catch-up with what? I thought; we saw each other at work yesterday. I watched her walk towards the bar and turned to Frank, who was smiling at me. It was kind of creepy. Like a serial killer who knew where the bodies were buried and would never tell.
‘What are you so happy about?’ I asked, taking a sip of my lukewarm champagne. ‘Did someone finally Pimp Your Ride?’
‘I don’t even know what that means,’ he responded. ‘But yes, I am happy and I have you to thank.’
‘Me? Why? What did I do?’
‘Well, without you, I’d never have met such a wonderful woman. She’s really something, Phoebe. Between you and me, I think she might be the one.’
My heart sank. Not only was he was smitten with this woman, he was thanking me for making it all possible. Frank might not be my favourite person in the world, but I can’t bear the thought of anyone being taken for a ride. However, a wedding was not the place to inform him that his girlfriend was an arsehole.
‘Blimey, Frank,’ I said. ‘That escalated quickly. I thought you’d only had a couple of dates. She’s still living with her husband. Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit?’
‘Seven dates to be exact,’ he replied, taking off his suit jacket, ‘and it’s just a temporary arrangement between them. For God’s sake, Phoebe, you sound like my mother.’
‘No champers left, babe, this will have to do.’
Sarah sat down and placed some prosecco in front of him.
He inspected the glass and shrugged. ‘It’s fine. We can have something decent at my house, later.’
It was almost like they’d been made for each other in a lab. Perhaps this relationship had more merit than I gave it credit for.
‘What’s with the disposable cameras?’ Frank asked, picking one up. ‘How odd.’
‘The guests are the photographers,’ I replied. ‘It’s an excellent idea. There’s loads of them kicking about. Lucy will get them developed after her honeymoon.’
‘Seems silly,’ Sarah piped up. ‘Everyone has camera phones, why not just use them?’
I sighed. ‘Because it’s fun, Sarah. And it’s easier to keep all of the photos in one place instead of having them emailed in dribs and drabs.’
And with that, Sarah picked up the camera. ‘When in Rome,’ she said, throwing her head back and taking a selfie of her and Frank. A fucking selfie.
Before I had the chance to address this, I saw Sarah’s eyes light up and Frank’s face suddenly turn pale.
‘Oliver! How lovely to see you! I don’t think I’ve seen you since the kids went into Primary School.’
I felt Oliver reach over my shoulder and grab some water. Damn, this was awkward. ‘Nice to see you, Sarah,’ he replied. ‘And you, Frank.’ His chest puffed out and his shoulders broadened. Oh God, he was peacocking. PLEASE KILL ME NOW.
Frank greeted him politely and put his arm around Sarah, almost using her like a human shield.
‘Oliver, I must say, I’m quite fond of that moustache,’ she commented. ‘It makes you look very distinguished.’
Distinguished? It makes him look like a seventies footballer.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Frank’s hand creep up and touch his bare top lip. This was getting painful.
‘Shall we dance?’ I asked Oliver, my eyes telling him to get me the fuck out of here.
He winked. ‘Lead the way.’
We slow-danced beside Kevin and Hazel while Molly, face full of wedding cake, tried on Lucy’s garland and danced with Kyle. Oliver and I rarely get to dance and although it initially felt a bit silly, it also felt romantic. It felt old-fashioned. It felt like we were timeless. I felt like any moment I would tread on Oliver’s toes and ruin everything.
‘I think my work colleagues who hate each other have started shagging,’ I said, my head motioning to where they were sitting. ‘I did not see that coming. It’s too weird.’
Oliver glanced over and smirked. ‘Lucy just married a man who shops at Wholefoods. Nothing makes sense anymore.’
‘I can’t believe she’s fucking married. I’m so happy for her.’
‘Don’t go getting all misty-eyed on me, Henderson. I don’t think your mascara will cope a third time.’
‘I’m not,’ I lied, sniffing. ‘I’m just glad her day went so well. She deserved it.’
*
10 p.m. Someone called Marjory punched a man called Angus and it all kicked off on the dance floor. I managed to avoid being knocked over in the fracas but Marjory accidently pushed Molly and sent her flying across the floor where she bumped her head. I then promptly knocked fuck out of Marjory.
*
11.25 p.m. The police decided not to take matters any further and Kyle’s parents agreed to pay for any damages caused by the Henderson clan. Oliver had taken Molly home in a taxi and Lucy had wrapped some ice in a towel for my aching hand.
‘I’ve never hit anyone in my life! I’m so sorry, Lucy, I saw red.’
She smiled. ‘Phoebe, if I’d have been there, Marjory would have gotten more than a busted lip. She deserved it. No one touches our Molly. You’re pretty much my hero right now.’
‘Did you see Brian and Kelly? TOGETHER?’
She abruptly stopped tending to my wounds. ‘What do you mean together? I thought they just shared a cab here.’
‘I saw physical contact. And flirting. They were definitely sharing more than just a cab.’
‘How the fuck am I supposed to relax on honeymoon, knowing that this is happening? You’d better do some serious snooping for me. I’m counting on you.’
*
When I arrived home at midnight, Molly was already in bed.
‘Alright, slugger?’ Oliver teased, grinning at me. ‘Man, I’ve never seen someone go down so quickly. She was absolutely hammered, though.’
‘Ugh, I’m mortified. Is Molly OK?’
‘She’s fine. She’s fucking overjoyed that you hit that woman. Honestly. She thinks you’re the coolest right now.’
I sank on to the couch. ‘Oh God, she’s going to tell her classmates that Mummy punched someone. I’ll need to have a word with her tomorrow.’
Oliver put his arm around me and kissed my sore hand. ‘You worry too much. I am also proud of you. You’re like a fucking lioness protecting her cub. It was sexy as hell.’
I turned to look at him. ‘Are you aroused by this?’
He shook his head. ‘Not by this. By you.’
Marjory’s face wasn’t the only thing that got pounded that night.
Monday November 13th
With Lucy away to Sri Lanka for a fortnight, I already felt los
t. Still, I had plenty of free time to secretly study and observe Kelly and Brian and discover whether there were actual romantic shenanigans taking place.
*
3.45 p.m. Brian made Kelly some tea. THIS NEVER HAPPENS. EVER.
I’m writing this shit down like a detective. I will solve this.
Tuesday November 14th
I could just ask Brian and Kelly what the hell is going on but they’d only deny anything and then they’d know I was on to them and be extra sneaky around me. I AM THE ONLY SNEAKY SNEAKER HERE. They have no idea I’m on to them.
*
4.59 p.m. Brian asked everyone what their plans were for tonight. When Kelly said she was having a friend over, he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck because HE IS CLEARLY THE FRIEND. I am going to make myself an evidence board.
Thursday November 16th
The plot thickens – today Kelly remarked that her love of fudge doughnuts was going to make her fat. Now, normally Brian would respond ‘what do you mean, make you fat?’ and then they’d have a massive row, but TODAY he said ‘Don’t be silly’.
DON’T BE SILLY! I’m now convinced. They are doing it.
I sent Lucy a message to get her thoughts on this. I don’t give a fuck if she’s on her honeymoon, this is important.
Friday November 17th
Text from Lucy at 4 a.m.
OMG THEY ARE SO SHAGGING.
I feel validated in my efforts now.
Saturday November 18th
I received a WhatsApp from Lucy with a photo of her surrounded by mountains, sitting on top of an elephant with her face almost hidden by the floppiest pink sun hat I’ve ever seen. I laughed and sent her back a picture of the rain-soaked street below us, complete with an overflowing trash bag and dog shit.
Monday November 19th
Oliver decided to go and play footie tonight, his first game in ages. I like it when he goes out and does physical stuff that gets his adrenaline pumping. He’s like a sex beast when he comes back. I wish I was more like that; when I do anything physically demanding, I’m ready for the bin.
Tuesday November 21st
Today on Shagging She Wrote, I saw Kelly pass Brian a note and I’ve spent far too long wondering what it said. My top three guesses are:
Call someone about a work thing.
Phoebe is watching us! LOL!
Are u my boyfriend? y/n
This is getting sad. Hurry up and come back, Lucy, I’m losing the plot.
Wednesday November 22nd
We had a quick parents’ evening session at Molly’s school tonight to go over how she’s doing. Molly came with us, hanging out in the library with her friends while we headed to the main hall.
Her teacher, Mrs Ali, was a very animated woman who waved her arms around when she spoke, a massive mop of jet black hair bobbing in union with her arms.
‘Molly is a wonderful child!’ she exclaimed, picking Molly’s file from the top of the pile. ‘This really is going to be a short conversation.’
She began to read down her notes. ‘Her reading proficiency is very advanced for her age and she’s showing competency in all other areas of the curriculum. She’s a very happy child and gets on well with her peers. I’ll give you her work jotters to have a look at once we’ve finished here.’
Oliver and I sat together and looked through her work, giggling at the terrible drawings of us and the things she chose to write about in her news book.
My dad triped over his shoos and then my mum was laughing and he ate her biskit.
‘YOU ate my damn KitKat. I knew it!’
‘That kid is such a snitch.’
‘If we ever fuck up big time, Mrs Ali is going to know about it.’
We collected Molly from the library, telling her what an excellent report she received. We treated her to ice cream on the way home as a reward for all her hard work. She was so proud of herself. 10/10 would do this again.
Thursday November 23rd
Oliver was looking particularly fine this morning. So fine, in fact, I decided to email him and wind him the fuck up. Just like the good old days.
From: Phoebe Henderson
To: Oliver Webb
Subject: Question
Did you put something in my coffee before you left this morning, because I have been on heat ever since. I really want you to hear me cum. Please let me know when you’re available for heavy breathing.
From: Oliver Webb
To: Phoebe Henderson
Subject: Re: Question
Of course you would tell me this when I’m about to head into a meeting for the rest of the day, because nothing screams professional like a man with a raging boner.
Can you hold out ’til I get home?
From: Phoebe Henderson
To: Oliver Webb
Subject: Re: Question
This doesn’t suit my need for instant gratification but I guess it’ll have to do. Have a great day and please don’t be distracted by the attached photo; they’re only breasts.
From: Oliver Webb
To: Phoebe Henderson
Subject: Re: Question
Oh fuck you. I’m not opening anything else from you today. Otherwise I’m going to have to disappear into the toilets with this photo like the worst human ever. Now leave me alone.
From: Oliver Webb
To: Phoebe Henderson
Subject: Re: Question
I just noticed your knickers are pulled down around your thighs. You fucking shithead. I’m literally throbbing.
Ten minutes later he called me from inside a cubicle and we had phone sex. Damn, that turned me on.
Friday November 24th
Another photo from Lucy today, sunbathing on the edge of a pier with a drink in one hand, surrounded by the bluest sea I’ve ever seen in my life. I swear she must have filtered that shit, it was the colour of a raspberry slush puppy.
I started re-reading The Handmaid’s Tale last night but Oliver distracted me by calling me Ofoliver and asking me if I wanted to play Scrabble. He’s such a dick sometimes.
Monday November 27th
Thank God, Lucy is back. The office has been far too quiet and harmonious without her.
‘I know I sent you a few pics while I was away but I’ve uploaded loads to my Instagram, if you want a look.’ She smirked. ‘I know how much you love Instagram . . .’
‘Oh I’ll look through your photos, no problem, as long as you haven’t hashtagged them with every word in the English dictionary.’
‘Not every word. I’m not a monster. Oh, talking of photos, we got our wedding snaps developed. Some of them are amazing – I’ll bring them round. But there does seem to be an awful lot of Frank and that bloody woman . . . no one else, just them doing weird selfie pouts. I’m going to stick them up all over his office. Fucking losers.’
Tuesday November 28th
Oliver isn’t well and when Oliver isn’t well, the entire house must hear about it continuously, on a loop, twenty-four hours a day.
‘How can you have the flu?’ I asked, rushing to help Molly get ready. ‘You got your flu shot at work last week!’
‘I think that’s what gave me the flu. Can you bring me some tea?’
‘Yes. In a minute. I’m just sorting Molly out.’
I swear if that fucker gives me his diseases, I’ll scream.
December
Friday December 1st
Since Oliver’s been sleeping so much during the day with his man-flu, he’s now determined that no one else shall sleep at a normal hour.
‘You still haven’t told me what you want for Christmas.’
I turned on the bedside lamp and saw Oliver’s eyes peering at me from over the duvet.
‘Are you kidding me? Oliver, if you wake me up at five-thirty to ask me that, ever again, the answer will be “a gun”.’
‘No, seriously,’ he insisted. ‘What do you want? It’s less than a month away.’
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, catching
sight of myself in the wardrobe mirror. Holy crap. I looked like Young Einstein.
‘I want a pony, Oliver. I want a pony called SHUT UP,WE’RE BARELY OUT OF FUCKING NOVEMBER,’ I replied, my harsh whisper burning the back of my throat. ‘And while we’re on the subject, are you losing the porn star tash today? You look like a pervert. And not in a good way.’
He rolled over and plumped up his pillow. ‘It was for charity, grumpy arse.’
‘But no one sponsored you. You just wanted to be Tom Selleck.’
‘I think you’ll find that every man born before 1980 wants to be Tom Selleck. Anyway, why are you in such a bad mood?’
‘Because I’m tired!’ I replied. ‘I’m tired and I’m frumpy! Look at the state of my hair. Actually, look at the state of YOUR hair.’
He pursed his lips together and turned off the lights. Moments later, I heard him whisper, ‘A pony it is, then.’
Haha! HE’S SO ANNOYING.
Monday December 4th
Frank looked rather serious as he started the morning meeting and with good reason.
‘I’m sorry to have to tell you that London has decided to close the Scottish office. I’m afraid the way the market is, our little contribution to the newspaper as a whole doesn’t justify keeping us open.’
‘Just us?’ Brian asked, his face turning as pale as mine was. All I could think was,Fuck. We’re all unemployed.
Frank shook his head. ‘No, everyone from editorial to display. I’ll be speaking with you all individually to discuss your redundancy packages, along with HR, but this will be your last week. Again, I’m very sorry.’
Relight my Fire Page 23
