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

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A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do: A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy Page 26

by Jennifer Joyce


  Kelvin gave a nod, coughed a bit more and shuffled a few bits of paper on his desk so I backed away, saving us both embarrassment.

  ‘What was that about?’ Jared asked as we made our way down to the car park.

  I pulled a face. ‘He tried to get me to do some filing before I left, but I told him I had plans.’ Kelvin’s reputation as a miserable killjoy would remain intact. I felt I owed him that much.

  Once home, Jared quickly changed and packed an overnight bag. I’d been hoping we could eat together before we went our separate ways – a last supper, if you will – but Jared was heading for the door before Granada Reports had even had the chance to begin its headlines for the evening.

  ‘I know it’s early, but I said I’d meet up with Gavin and the others and have something to eat first,’ Jared said as he slung his holdall over his shoulder. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

  I did mind, but it was too near the wedding to put my foot down. I didn’t want to fall at the last hurdle and scare him away. ‘It’s fine. Go and have fun.’ I kissed Jared before giving him a stern look. ‘But not too much fun.’

  ‘No way.’ Jared took my hand and dropped a gentle kiss on my fingers. ‘Just think – the next time we see each other, we’ll be about to get married.’

  Jared’s words sent a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Believe it.’ Jared kissed me for one last time as Ruth Lynch and then he was gone. The butterflies continued their flight as I paced the empty flat. My party of hens wouldn’t be here for another couple of hours, so I had some time to kill. I couldn’t keep pacing – there’d be no carpet left at this rate – so I picked up the phone and dialled my parents’ number instead. I was about to ask if Stephen and his family had arrived yet, but the sounds of rioting in the background told me that they had. Stephen and Aubrey had three children – twelve-year-old Riley, ten-year-old Austin and four-year-old Ryder – and while they were adorable and I loved them ferociously, they could be a handful.

  ‘We’re all fine here, love.’ Despite the noise, Mum was in her element. She missed Stephen and hated the fact that she had to see her grandchildren grow up over Skype, so she’d happily take the din they created. ‘Riley has shown me her dress and it’s gorgeous. She looks like she’s off to prom! Do you want to speak to your brother?’

  I had a quick chat with Stephen, not wanting to keep him long as he should have been on his way to meet Jared and the others for the stag night. At a loose end again, I decided to go through my plans one last time to make sure everything was as it should be. I knew my plans were watertight but it would put my mind at rest to be doubly sure. The florist assured me that everything was on track and the flowers would be delivered first thing in the morning, and Cosmo told me everything was going to plan.

  ‘It’s all going to be perfect, I promise you. Would I let you down?’

  I knew that Cosmo wouldn’t. We’d been friends for a long time and I knew he would do everything in his power to give me the reception I wanted.

  ‘Thanks, Cosmo. I really appreciate it.’ Taking my mobile with me, I moved through to the bathroom to run a bath. ‘Mum and Linda will be there early to set up if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course, tesorina. If I’m not there, my staff will be more than happy to help.’

  I added a good dollop of bubble bath and gave the water a swirl. Saying goodbye to Cosmo, I moved through to the sitting room and checked my notebook again. Dialling the photographer’s number, I checked on the bath, making sure it wasn’t about to overflow.

  ‘Hi, Sadie. It’s Ruth Lynch.’ I tested the water, turning down the cold ever so slightly. ‘I was just calling to check that everything is still okay for tomorrow.’

  There was a pause. I wondered whether Sadie was still there, and checked the screen to make sure we were still connected. Finally, Sadie spoke.

  It was not good news.

  ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’

  I wasn’t immediately worried, as Sadie’s tone was bright.

  ‘I can’t make your wedding after all.’

  Okay, now I was worried. Very worried.

  ‘Whoops, silly me. I could have sworn I’d told you.’

  I was confused by Sadie’s tone. It was still bright, but now had a dash of flippancy to it. I didn’t understand. She was cancelling our booking the night before our wedding and she was being chirpy about it. What the fluff?

  ‘What’s going on?’

  The chirpiness vanished from Sadie’s voice. ‘Maybe you should ask your friend, Theo.’

  Theo?

  ‘What’s he got to do with it?’ Dread started to snake its way into my gut, suffocating the happy little butterflies. I thought back to our meeting with Sadie, of how well it had gone. And then Theo had turned up. But he hadn’t spoken to Sadie. I’d turfed him out of the flat before he could cause any damage.

  ‘Just ask him.’ Sadie slammed down the phone and I stared at my mobile, unable to compute what was happening. I was getting married tomorrow and the photographer had just pulled out. Because of Theo. Turning off the taps, I perched on the edge of the bath and dialled Theo’s number, my foot tapping against the lino.

  ‘Theo!’ I barked as soon as he answered. I was determined to get to the bottom of this without any bullshitting around. ‘Did you sleep with the photographer?’

  ‘Who?’ Theo – the complete shit – yawned as he asked.

  ‘The photographer for my wedding. Sadie Alexander.’

  ‘Oh. Her. Yeah, I did.’ Another yawn.

  I leaped up from the side of the bath and started to pace the tiny bathroom. It didn’t take much effort: two steps forward, turn, two steps back. ‘When?’

  ‘I dunno. A few weeks ago.’

  ‘But how?’ I didn’t understand. I’d kept them apart – for this very reason.

  ‘I waited for her downstairs and we got talking.’

  I was going to throttle him. Slowly.

  ‘She’s a right psycho, though. She won’t leave me alone. Has she started bugging you now?’

  I closed my eyes, imagining my hands tightening around his scrawny little neck. ‘No, she hasn’t started bugging me. She’s cancelled our booking. I don’t have a photographer for my wedding. Because of you!’

  ‘Hey, this isn’t my fault. How was I supposed to know she’d go all bunny-boiler-ish?’

  ‘You could have not slept with her!’ I was so enraged I started seeing spots in front of my eyes. This was not good, I was sure. ‘Why did you have to sleep with my photographer?’

  ‘She was hot.’ Theo’s voice was so small, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite. I was still going to throttle him.

  ‘Did you sleep with anyone else I should know about? The vicar, perhaps?’

  I hung up the phone and then that’s when I really started to panic. We didn’t have a photographer. We were getting married in less than twenty-four hours and we didn’t have a photographer to record the beautiful day!

  Forty-Five

  Ruth

  ‘It’ll be fine. Honestly, it will.’

  I’d phoned Jared in a flap, and he was doing his best to soothe me. He’d had a battle on his hands. I’d cried, threatened violence (against Theo, not my darling Jared) and cried some more.

  ‘We’ll get everyone to take photos on their cameras and phones and upload them. It’ll be more real this way, just like you wanted.’

  That was true, I suppose.

  ‘We can put them online and share them. Maybe on Instagram. Or Pinterest! You love Pinterest. Plus ...’ Jared paused, about to use his trump card. ‘We can put the photographer’s fee towards a honeymoon. With the money from work, we should be able to have a weekend away soon.’

  I did like the sound of that. Forgoing a honeymoon had been a huge sacrifice, so a bit of time away with my new husband sounded good.

  ‘Are you going to be okay?’ Jared asked and I assured him that I would be. I was calmer now that w
e had a plan in place. Jared was right. Simple photos taken by family and friends was the sort of look I was going for. It would work out fine.

  ‘I’ll be fine now. I’m going to get in the bath and get ready for my hen night. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs Williams.’

  I tried to relax in the bath, but it was impossible. Despite coming to terms with the fact that our guests were going to act as unpaid photographers at the wedding (‘coming to terms with’ is quite mild, actually. I loved the idea and wondered why we hadn’t thought of it in the first place. Screw you, Sadie Alexander!), I was still shaken up by the drama of it all. Besides, the bath was tepid by the time I sank into the water and my heart was no longer in it enough to top it up with more hot water. I washed and dried my hair before changing into a hot pink skater dress, teaming it with a pair of nude peep-toe heels and chunky pink and navy beads. A navy headband with an oversized polka-dotted bow swept my blonde curls away from my face and completed the look. I’d just managed to make the flat look presentable when the first guests arrived (I couldn’t really think of them as hens, as it made me picture my friends and family bobbing around the sitting room, pecking at the carpet).

  ‘Wow, Ruth. You look amazing.’ Trina enveloped me in a tight hug before she stepped into the flat, followed closely by her sister. Tori chose not to hug me – which I was totally fine with. She was my cousin but we had never been particularly close – and instead popped her head into the sitting room, pulling a face when she saw that it was empty.

  ‘Are we the first to arrive? How sad is that?’ Tori flopped onto the sofa with a sigh, frowning as she plucked a stray pen from underneath her.

  I flashed an apologetic smile as I took the pen and gathered my wedding plans from the coffee table. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘I’ll have a vodka and pomegranate juice.’ Tori’s eyes were flitting around the flat. Judging it, the snobby cow. ‘If you have it.’

  ‘I have vodka but no pomegranate. Will cranberry do?’

  Tori glanced up at the ceiling, clearly holding in a sigh. ‘Yes, I suppose it will.’

  ‘I’ll come and give you a hand.’ Trina followed me into the kitchen, whispering apologies for Tori as we made the drinks. I was suddenly delirious with gratitude that only the first portion of the hen night would be taking place at the flat, as I was already stressed. Tori could sink as many vodka and pomegranate juices as she desired once we were in town. It wasn’t as though I’d even invited the woman – she’d piggy-backed on Trina’s invite, claiming she ‘had nothing better to do’. If I wasn’t such a wuss, I’d have told her to do one.

  ‘I don’t suppose you have ice, do you?’ Tori called from the sitting room.

  ‘Of course.’ I pulled an ice cube tray out of the freezer and popped a couple into Tori’s glass. Grabbing a bottle of white wine from the fridge, I poured a glass for Trina and myself. ‘So, how are you getting on?’

  ‘Oh, you know.’ Trina gave a wave of her hand and, though she was smiling, I didn’t quite believe it. ‘I’ve been better, but it’s a relief to be back home. It was the right decision to leave Rory.’

  ‘Rory’s a prick.’ Tori had obviously been listening to our conversation as she added her opinion from the sitting room. ‘He’s probably screwing that Ginny right now.’

  Trina and I chose to ignore her input. ‘Have you heard from him since?’

  Trina shook her head. ‘Not a word. You’d have thought he’d have been a bit miffed that I’d left him, wouldn’t you? I’m not asking for him to fight for me, but it could have ruffled his feathers a teeny bit.’

  It was only common courtesy, I’d have thought.

  ‘What about Aidan?’

  ‘He’s phoned a few times – more than a few, actually – but I haven’t been up to talking to him yet. I’m just so confused.’

  ‘Sleep with him,’ Tori called from the sitting room. ‘Get it out of your system.’

  I closed the door connecting the kitchen and sitting room and Trina smiled gratefully.

  ‘I’m not sure if I want him out of my system. Part of me thinks we could be really good together, but I’ve just left my husband, you know?’

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the door was wrenched open. ‘What are you doing? I thought this was a hen party, not an “exclude Tori” party. Where are the other girls anyway? You haven’t just invited us, have you?’ Technically, I haven’t invited you at all. ‘How sad!’

  ‘I’ve invited other people,’ I said, my skin prickling with indignation.

  Tori grabbed the glass of vodka and cranberry, necking half of it in one go before she hopped up onto my kitchen counter. ‘Has Trina told you she’s going back to work? Tell her how mad she is. Rory’s loaded. She’ll bag herself a small fortune in the divorce. Why bother going to work when you’re due a payout?’

  ‘Because I want to work. I loved my job before I got married.’ Trina’s face lit up as she told me about her job. It was the happiest I’d seen her since her honeymoon. ‘I’m so lucky that my replacement didn’t work out. My boss at Pooch Couture almost wept when I asked if I could come back. I start on Monday and I can’t wait.’

  ‘I still think you’re mental.’ Tori slipped off the counter, draining her drink before helping herself to another.

  The intercom buzzed, signalling the arrival of Erin, Quinn and Casey. I made the introductions – they remembered Trina from the wedding fair and my birthday meal but they’d yet to have the pleasure of meeting Tori – before arranging more drinks. Mum arrived soon after, and I was surprised to see her alone.

  ‘Where’s Aubrey?’ Mrs Flack from next door had offered to babysit so that she could join us too.

  ‘I think Aubrey has doubts about Mrs Flack being up to it.’ Mum removed her jacket and hung it up in the hallway. ‘Not that I blame her. Mrs Flack is ninety-four and those kiddies are a bit of a handful. I offered to stay behind with them, but Aubrey said she wasn’t feeling up to a night out. She claims it’s jet lag but I suspect we’ll be welcoming a new member to the family soon.’ Mum tapped the side of her nose before joining the others in the sitting room.

  Linda, Ally, Freya and Jimmy arrived a few minutes later, completing the party.

  ‘Who’s for a cocktail?’ Erin took charge, concocting various cocktails for everyone like a pro. Forming a cramped circle on the sitting room floor, we played a game of ‘I have never’ in which we took turns to make statements, such as ‘I have never been dogging’. Those who had been dogging had to take a sip of their drink – thankfully, all drinks went untouched for that question. But I did learn some rather unsavoury things about my mother’s sex life that I wished I hadn’t. Jimmy had decided not to play, which Linda said was a very good idea.

  ‘I’ll die if you take a sip for any of the questions,’ Linda said.

  Jimmy didn’t say a thing.

  ‘I have never had sex in a car,’ Trina stated. Erin took a sip of her drink – she had for most statements. She was going to be trolleyed in no time – along with Quinn, Linda (my very-soon-to-be mother-in-law – aargh!), Freya, Casey and Tori. We were halfway around the circle and Erin’s glass was almost empty. Tori’s wasn’t far behind either, while Trina’s and my glasses were practically untouched. I was going to have to start making stuff up if this carried on.

  ‘Hey, Vee.’ Linda nudged Mum, a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘When Louie gets the caravan sorted, you’ll be able to have a go in there. That’d count, wouldn’t it?’ Linda glanced around the circle while I contemplated emptying my guts onto the carpet.

  ‘Trina said a car. A caravan wouldn’t technically count,’ Erin said. I glared at her. I wanted this conversation to end. Now. ‘My turn!’ Erin placed her glass down on the carpet and rubbed her hands together. ‘I have never had sex in a caravan.’

  We all looked at Mum – though I did my best to resist – who paused before finally taking a sip of her drink. The rest of the circle howled w
ith laughter, while I wished for death.

  ‘It wasn’t the caragym, was it?’ Linda asked.

  ‘Gosh, no. It’s still a heap of junk,’ Mum said. ‘No, this was years ago, back in the late sixties. It wasn’t even with Louie.’

  ‘What?’ This was an evil game. Every ounce of naivety was being stripped from me. As far as I’d been aware, Mum had only ever had sex with Dad, and I would have liked to have kept that assumption.

  ‘It was before I met your dad. I was only fourteen.’

  I dropped my head into my hands. Fourteen? No, I didn’t like this game one bit.

  ‘He was called Ronald and was staying in the next caravan. Do you remember Great Aunt Violet’s caravan in Blackpool?’ I’d stayed there on a number of occasions as a child but wished I could remove all memories of it now. ‘I was staying with my Aunt Violet and her family for a week. I thought Ronald was a lovely boy. So sweet and handsome. And then I found out he’d also deflowered my cousin Shirley too.’

  There was a collective tut from the circle, along with a chorus of ‘men are bastards’ before the game – unfortunately – resumed.

  After the horrifying game of ‘I have never’, we remained in the circle for a game of pass the parcel. At Erin’s suggestion – she had provided the wrapped parcel – Jimmy was in charge of the music. It soon became clear why when Tori opened the final layer.

  ‘Who needs a man?’ Tori waved the sparkly purple vibrator in the air, a look of triumph on her face.

  ‘It’s just a pity it doesn’t mow the grass,’ Linda said, and she and Mum cracked up. I am never drinking with those two again.

  ‘Right then, ladies.’ Erin, having encouraged Tori to store the vibrator in her handbag (she wouldn’t be parted with it completely), clapped her hands together. ‘Time to take this party elsewhere!’

  Mum and Linda insisted that they were too old to go into town. I was slightly relieved (though of course I hid it well and insisted they came) but they were adamant. Besides, somebody needed to take Jimmy home, and Mum was keen to give Aubrey a hand with the kids, who she was sure would be still full of beans and jet leg.

 

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