A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do: A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘This is Trina’s friend, Aidan. We sat together at dinner.’ I decided to sidestep the whole can’t-stop-blathering-about-my-boyfriend business. It would be less humiliating that way.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ Jared said. ‘I got stuck with a boring old git who talked about nothing but his yacht.’

  ‘Oh, you mean my uncle Fred,’ Aidan said. ‘Loves his yacht, does Freddie. It’s his pride and joy.’

  ‘Your uncle?’ Green Jared was back. ‘I didn’t mean boring old git in a bad way. Just, you know …’ Jared widened his eyes at me, silently begging for help. But I wasn’t going to come to his aid until we’d sorted this ‘yes, but’ stuff out.

  ‘I’m kidding.’ Aidan clapped Jared on the back, trying his hardest not to laugh. ‘Sorry, I’ve got a crap sense of humour. I don’t really know anybody here apart from Trina.’ He looked at the happy couple, who were twirling around the dance floor. When Trina and Rory’s spot in the limelight was over, other couples took to the dance floor, including me and Jared. I caught sight of Betty clutching Aidan and, as they whizzed by, Betty flashed me a wink.

  ‘I have no idea who this young man is,’ she called. ‘But he sure can dance!’

  Four

  Ruth

  ‘I think you’ve made a friend for life there.’ I looped my arm through Jared’s as the coach pulled away from the gravel driveway, using my free hand to wave back at Betty. After dancing with Aidan, the insatiable pensioner had grabbed Jared to strut their stuff on the dance floor.

  ‘Let’s show these youngsters how it’s done,’ she’d declared as she’d led Jared by his tie to the centre of the floor. Once she’d tired Jared out, she’d given Aidan another go, only pausing very briefly to refresh herself with a sip of sherry. She’d only stopped when she was told the coach was leaving right now, with or without her.

  ‘Who exactly is she?’ Jared asked as the coach – and Betty – disappeared from view. It was late, and the long driveway was illuminated by fairy lights threaded through the trees that lined the road, creating a magically romantic atmosphere.

  ‘I think she’s a second cousin of my mum. Or maybe third.’

  ‘She’s sweet.’

  I reached up on my tiptoes to kiss Jared’s cheek. ‘So are you.’ It seemed Jared had forgotten about our ‘yes, but …’ conversation, and I wasn’t about to remind him.

  ‘Nah, it’s all a ruse.’ We started to move around the castle towards the car park, having already said goodbye to Trina, who was completely sloshed and currently dancing the Macarena solo on the dance floor. There were rooms available at the castle, but as it was only a forty-five-minute drive back to Woodgate (and the room prices were extortionate if you were ordinary and non-super-rich), Jared and I had decided to travel back the same day.

  ‘I’m actually an utter bastard and I’m simply biding my time before I show my true colours,’ Jared said as we neared the car.

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ Jared had never been anything but lovely towards me. He treated me to breakfast in bed on regular, non-special occasions, never complained when I burned our dinner to smithereens, and he made me feel beautiful every single day.

  ‘That’s because I’m such a good actor,’ Jared said. We climbed into the car and, seeing me shivering, Jared immediately turned the heating on, thus proving my point.

  ‘Keep dreaming. I know you too well. You couldn’t keep a secret from me if your life depended on it.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Jared gave a small shrug. I like to think he was admitting defeat to my amazing power to sniff out a secret.

  ‘We’ll see.’

  We pulled out of the car park and started to move along the road lined with the twinkling of fairy lights. I kept my eyes on the castle as it began to recede as we wound our way out of the grounds. ‘It was a wonderful wedding, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It must have cost a fortune.’

  I stifled a yawn. It had been an extremely long day. ‘That’s what happens when you have a rich daddy to pay for everything, I suppose.’ Aunt Gloria’s second husband had been mega-rich and liked nothing more than indulging his daughters (by throwing cash at them, rather than spending actual time with them). He hadn’t spared a single penny when it came to Trina’s big day.

  ‘Lucky for some.’ Jared pulled out of the wide iron gates and onto the street. I twisted in my seat to take one last look at Durban Castle, doubtful that I would ever step into a place as grand ever again.

  ‘I don’t know. We’re pretty lucky with the families we have. Tori and Trina’s dad may like to splash his cash around, but I don’t think he had much of a parental role in their lives. They spent most of their childhoods away at school. It’s a bit sad, really.’

  Jared took one final look at the castle through the rear-view mirror. ‘I won’t spend too much time feeling sorry for them. By the looks of it, they have plenty of banknotes to wipe away their tears.’

  ‘Is this your bad side emerging?’

  Jared grinned across at me. ‘I told you I was a bastard.’

  I patted his arm. ‘Good try, but you’ll have to do much better than that.’

  I must have dropped off somewhere along the way, as I felt myself being gently nudged awake. We were parked outside our flat with all traces of fairy lights, castles and dancing pensioners well and truly behind us. I dragged my weary body up to the second-floor flat Jared and I had been sharing for the past eight months. I’d been worried that moving in with Jared would be weird, as I’d never co-habited with a boyfriend before, but my concerns were unfounded and I couldn’t imagine not living with him now. We had quite different views when it came to living arrangements – Jared liked to wash the dishes as soon as possible while I could leave them ‘soaking’ for anything up to three days – but it seemed to work well. Or so I’d thought. We still hadn’t cleared up that ‘yes, but …’ niggle.

  We moved straight to the bedroom, where I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my navy chiffon dress, abandoning them on the floor while I pulled on a pair of worn, but comfortable, pyjamas. Jared waited until I’d wandered to the bathroom before he scooped up the dress and shoes, depositing them in the laundry basket and the bottom of the wardrobe respectively. It was the same most nights. I didn’t mean to be so slothful, but it was a difficult habit to break.

  I washed off the make-up I had so carefully applied that morning before pulling out the mass of grips I’d used to pin my hair up. Aidan was a stylist at a posh hairdressers in town and had passed on one of his business cards. I was sorely tempted to book an appointment – who wouldn’t want to have their hair done in a salon frequented by celebs? The only thing stopping me was the hefty price tag.

  ‘The bathroom’s free.’ My face washed and my teeth brushed, I returned to the bedroom, desperate to climb beneath the sheets. The nap in the car hadn’t been nearly enough to revive me. ‘We need to add toothpaste to the shopping list. It’s almost all – what are you doing?’

  When I walked into the room, Jared was down on the floor (or, rather, down on one knee. He hadn’t collapsed or anything).

  ‘Is that a—?’ I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. This couldn’t be real, could it? Surely I was still asleep and would wake up any moment, drooling on the car window as we pulled up outside the flat. Because this really couldn’t be happening. Jared couldn’t be proposing to me here, in our bedroom, while I was wearing my oldest, ugliest (but extremely comfortable) pyjamas.

  Could he?

  ‘I wasn’t going to ask you tonight. I had it all planned. It would have been way more romantic than this, I promise, but I couldn’t wait. I saw how happy Trina and Rory were today, and I want that too.’

  He could.

  Jared really was going to propose to me!

  Why hadn’t I slipped into something a bit sexier than my worn-out winceyette pyjamas?

  ‘Is that why you were looking so flustered during the ceremony?’ I asked, my happy
grin diminishing as I recalled his sickly complexion. It was hardly flattering, was it? The thought of marrying me had brought Jared out in a sweat!

  ‘Hey, it’s a nerve-wracking thing, proposing to someone. What if it doesn’t go to plan? What if you say no?’ Jared gulped. He was starting to sweat again. ‘Are you going to say no?’

  Why the fluff would I say no?

  ‘You haven’t even asked me yet.’

  Jared took a fortifying breath. This was it, the moment I’d been waiting for since I slipped out of the womb. ‘Ruth, will you marry me?’

  A grand proposal would have been wonderful. We could have had roses and violins and champagne. There could have been moonlit walks or a trip up the Eiffel Tower. We could have been on a sun-drenched beach with the waves lapping at our feet, or staring up at the sky as a sign billowed from an aeroplane, declaring to the world that Jared wanted little old me to be his wife.

  But who needed all that extra stuff? The only thing that mattered was Jared and those beautiful words. Would I marry Jared?

  Would I marry Jared?

  ‘Of course I’ll bloody marry you!’

  Five

  Ruth

  I’d taken to walking around with my left hand outstretched for the remainder of the weekend and even on Monday morning, when I should have been busy working, I was preoccupied, admiring the ring on my finger. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It didn’t matter that it was a little loose and I had to clamp my middle and little fingers tight to keep it in place. On TV, engagement rings are always a perfect fit, as though the proposer has super-human ring-sizing capabilities. In reality, Jared’s guess had been slightly off, and we would have to get the ring resized. But it was still so beautiful and, more than that, it was so me. Jared had made a blinding choice in my engagement ring. It was quite a chunky white gold band set with a princess-cut diamond with a row of pink sapphires at either side. He must have known that a delicate little ring would have looked ridiculous on my finger, and I adored the pop of colour.

  ‘Sally says she’s still waiting for the minutes from Wednesday’s meeting.’ My boss thumped his way into my office, dumping a bundle of papers haphazardly into my in-tray. His presence totally ruined my romantic reverie, and I was forced to tear my eyes away from my finger and at least look like I was doing some actual work. Shoving my left hand under the desk, I grabbed the mouse in my right and swished it around a bit, as if I was busy doing something I was paid to do. I’d worked as the PA to the company’s general manager for long enough to have perfected the art of looking industrious when in fact I was doing nothing more taxing than having a daydream.

  ‘She hasn’t got them yet? How odd.’ I worked the ring off my finger with my thumb, letting it plop into my lap. Jared and I hadn’t announced our engagement yet – we’d spent the remainder of the weekend holed up in the flat ‘privately celebrating’ – and I wanted to keep it under wraps at work until we’d had the chance to tell our friends and family, particularly since I worked with two of my closest friends. Although they worked in the sales and marketing department and reception, gossip travelled like lightning at H. Wood Vehicles. It meant I had to store my beautiful new ring in my purse – moments of admiration aside – until we’d shouted it from the rooftops. Which I would totally do if the mere prospect of standing up on a slippery roof didn’t bring me out in a sweat.

  ‘I’ll email the minutes over to Sally again straight away.’ As soon as I’d actually typed them up, obviously.

  ‘Did I get a copy?’

  ‘Of course you did. I filed it for you.’ Kelvin would never check. He didn’t touch his filing cabinets unless he thought he’d stashed an emergency Mars bar in there. There were many disadvantages of working as a PA for the extremely lazy Kelvin Shuttleworth, but at least I could bullshit him to mask my own laziness from time to time without any recriminations.

  ‘Right.’ Kelvin hitched his trousers up by the belt loops. ‘Susan may call later. If she does, tell her I’m in a meeting and take a message. I’m sick to bloody death of hearing about flowers and seating plans.’

  I slipped into a daydream, imagining the kind of flowers I’d have for my wedding. Something bright, obviously. Maybe a posy of pink and orange tulips …

  ‘And I’ll have a coffee.’ Kelvin strode towards his office, but paused on the threshold. ‘I’ll have just two of my biscuits from now on, though. Until the wedding’s over and done with, at least.’ Kelvin pursed his rubbery lips. ‘Susan’s got me on a diet.’

  ‘But it isn’t even your wedding.’ Kelvin’s daughter was getting married in a few weeks and from what I could gather, it was going to be an elaborate affair. On a par with Trina’s, at the very least.

  ‘Try telling my wife that. It’s bad enough that I have to pay for the blasted thing. Putting me on a diet is a step too far. In fact …’ Kelvin strode out of the office, grabbing a fistful of change from his trouser pocket. I took a guess that he was on his way to the vending machine and, sure enough, he returned with a selection of chocolate bars in his hands and a packet of crisps clamped in his teeth. His stride was purposeful, his shoulders back. A few thousand calories would show his wife who was boss!

  Kelvin gave me a satisfied nod as he passed, before shutting himself in his adjoining office.

  ‘Don’t forget that file for Sally,’ he called through to me amid the delightful rustle of wrappers. ‘And my coffee.’

  Giving my ring one last admiring look, I popped it safely into my purse before heading to the kitchen to make Kelvin’s coffee. When I returned, I fished the notes from last week’s meeting from my in-tray. I’d get right on it. After a quick Google search of wedding venues.

  My head was swirling with wedding ideas by the end of the day. I’d managed to make a list of forty venues in Woodgate and the Greater Manchester area that seemed reasonably priced. They’d have to be whittled down, of course, but it was a start. Trina’s wedding had set the bar high, but I couldn’t see me and Jared getting married in a castle. As lovely as the day had been, it was all a bit pretentious and not us at all. Perhaps I could ask Trina for some tips when she got back from her honeymoon, though. I’d had a fun day perusing the internet for ideas, but I really didn’t have a clue when it came to organising a whole wedding, and it’d be nice to catch up with my cousin. We hadn’t had much time to chat during the wedding as everyone had wanted a piece of the bride.

  ‘What are you looking so chirpy about?’ Quinn, the receptionist at H. Woods, asked as I leaned against the desk to conserve energy as I waited for Jared. One of the many advantages of being with Jared – and, believe me, there were many – was never having to catch the bus to and from work again, as we both worked for the same company. We’d met in H. Wood’s little kitchen two years ago and since then had been living happily ever after. We were a perfect little unit, travelling to and from work together, saving both petrol and my sanity. Never again would I have to wait in the pouring rain for a bus that never had any intention of turning up. Never again would I have to get lumbered with the local fruitcake (there’s one on almost every bus. You’ve probably sat next to one before and wished you’d had the foresight to walk instead). Never again would I have to deal with a surly driver first thing on a Monday morning or time my journeys so that they didn’t coincide with the local delinquents’ ride to school. Going to work was no longer something to dread – apart from the actual being at work part, of course, but there was no getting away from that.

  ‘It’s the end of the day. Of course I’m chirpy.’ I wanted to tell Quinn all about my engagement, and I can’t tell you how much it pained me to keep it zipped. As well as being the receptionist at H. Wood Vehicles, Quinn was also one of my best friends and I knew she’d be so happy for me.

  Jared arrived and I had to pinch myself – as I so often did – to make sure I wasn’t dreaming and Jared was actually my boyfriend. No, no. My fiancé. Jared kissed my cheek by way of greeting. Pinch, pinch, pinch!

  We dashed h
ome and Jared immediately set up camp in the kitchen while I attacked the sitting room and bathroom. We’d invited our parents over for tea to share our news and I didn’t want Linda and Bob’s first thoughts at hearing about our engagement to be that their son was marrying a sloth. No matter how true that would be.

  ‘Do we have to listen to S Club 7 again?’ Jared groaned from the kitchen as the cheery beat of ‘Bring It All Back’ started up from the stereo.

  ‘Of course we do.’ I couldn’t clean without the motivation of a bit of 90s pop. There wasn’t much I could do without the motivation of a bit of 90s pop.

  Once the rooms were clean-ish – I’m not going to pretend to be either Kim or Aggie here – I pulled out the foldaway dining table and set it up with a tablecloth (which I wasn’t even aware we owned until Jared alerted me to its presence) and cutlery, which I did my best to ensure matched as best as possible. Our parents arrived, exchanging knowing glances as I led them up to the flat. The food wasn’t quite ready, so I settled everyone in the sitting room and poured glasses of wine. This was by far the most formal meal I’d ever had at home. Jared and I weren’t a throwing-dinner-parties type of couple and, before living with Jared, I’d shared a house with two blokes whose idea of formal dining was pouring a family-sized packet of crisps into a bowl and sticking it on the coffee table.

  ‘This is nice, isn’t it?’ Linda – my future mother-in-law – said as we squeezed around the table that wasn’t made to seat six. We’d had to improvise with seating and borrow the desk chair and the stool from my dressing table so we’d all have somewhere to sit. It created different levels of seating, but we all pretended it was perfectly fine to be at nose-level with your dinner or towering above it.