by Tracy Bloom
The room gasped again.
“It’s a long story,” he said quickly to the navy-suited duo. “It’s not how it sounds,” he said.
“You can tell us later,” said Emily getting a dark blue file out of her briefcase. “But for now shall we get on with what we are here for?”
Drew let out a small sigh of relief. Thank goodness for Emily’s unflappable demeanour. He smiled smugly at a disappointed Toby.
“If I came out with a story like that, Chloe would have my nuts for breakfast I can tell you,” he mumbled.
“Toby,” said Emily leaning forwards and pausing, silently demanding that he listen hard to what she was about to say. “That is because you are completely unreliable and untrustworthy. Drew can go for a drink with whomever he likes. We have not been together this long without knowing we can totally trust one another.”
“Hi,” said Drew stepping forward and taking Tammy’s hand and shaking it vigorously, keen to move the evening away from the danger zone. “I’m Drew.”
“This is Tammy our wedding co-ordinator,” introduced Emily. “And this is Luke the Deputy Manager.”
“Nice badges,” was all he could think of to say. Both of them stared silently back at him. “Sorry to keep you waiting, and what Toby said and the whole knife thing.”
“No need,” said Emily holding her hand up. “No need to dwell on it.” A smidgeon of exasperation flowed through to tense her jawline. She opened the blue file and took out a sheet of paper. “So, the objective of this meeting is to agree all entertainment issues. Can I suggest, Toby, that you take us all through your requirements?”
“Of course,” he said before making an about turn and striding across the dance floor to stand in the opposite corner with his arms raised as if he was a gymnast about to start a floor exercise. “This will be where the magic happens,” he declared, grandly swooping his arms down.
“I hardly call playing a few records, magic,” said Drew.
“Drew, how dare you treat my profession with such disdain,” protested Toby. “I am crucial to the success of the entire affair. I don’t see myself merely as a DJ, more a Wizard of Wonderful Times.”
“Failed radio presenter more like,” said Drew keen to get back at Toby for his part in the bad start to the meeting. Toby had recently set up his mobile disco business after he’d been sacked from his job on the radio because he talked too much.
“And no chat between the records,” warned Drew. Some people might actually want to dance you know, not listen to your drivel.”
“I have an entire day of music planned for you.” Toby strode back across the dance floor. “I’ve even brought along my very own mobile disco here to talk you through my entertainment choices for the day. He pulled an i-phone out of his pocket and motioned for them all to gather round.
“Toby,” interjected Emily. “We just want a good mix of music that will satisfy all age-groups,” she said whilst ticking something off in her file.
“Now you just stop there,” said Toby looking aghast. “This is the soundtrack to your wedding. You will remember this music for the rest of your lives. It is crucial that it reflects your personalities perfectly. This is a huge responsibility that I have taken very seriously.”
“There’s a first,” muttered Drew.
“Shall I continue?” asked Toby. “Or are you just going to take the piss.”
“Let’s hear it then,” said Emily without looking up from her file.
“Right,” he said pressing some buttons on his phone. “Let’s start with Emily’s arrival for the ceremony.”
My God, thought Drew, he really was taking it seriously. A few tunes after dinner was all he’d been expecting. Not all this.
“So if you can imagine,” continued Toby staring straight into Tammy’s eyes, “the huge oak doors swing open to reveal the blushing bride standing in all her splendour next to her proud, resplendent father.”
Tammy stared back at him, a tear teetering on the corner of her eye.
“And what could be better than to gaze at the pair of them and hear the strains of this absolute classic.”
Toby delicately pressed the screen and out came the most hideous racket.
Bring your Daughter to the Slaughter screamed the members of Iron Maiden as everyone stared at him open-mouthed. Toby grinned back widely before pressing the screen again and filling the air with the glorious sound of the Jaws theme tune.
“And so the bride floats down the aisle towards her waiting husband-to-be,” he said over the music. “And they stand side-by-side preparing to be brought together forever in perfect harmony.” Don’t Stand so Close to Me by the Police boomed out as Tammy looked in bewildered silence between Toby, Drew and Emily. Toby was so pleased with himself he seemed about to burst whilst Drew was trying very hard to suppress a smile. Emily had now closed her file and had her arms crossed with a somewhat resigned look on her face.
“Finished?” she asked patiently.
“Oh no,” replied Toby. “We’re not even at the reception yet. Now this is what I was thinking for during the reception drinks.”
“We’re having a harpist,” said Emily before Toby could enlighten everyone.
“A harpist?” exclaimed Toby.
“Yes, a harpist,” repeated Emily.
“So you won’t want this then.” He switched on I Predict a Riot by the Kaiser Chiefs.
“No.”
“I see.” He switched it off.
“So where’s she from then this harpist?” he asked.
“Wales.”
“Have you met this harpist then?” asked Toby turning to Drew.
“No,” Drew replied
“Is she fit?” he asked Emily.
“Have we done with this now?” challenged Emily. “You need to discuss your equipment with this gentleman,” she added pointing at the bewildered looking duty manager.
“I’d rather discuss it with the harpist,” Toby said eyeing the deputy manager disdainfully.
“Toby!” shouted Emily clearly having tolerated his fun for long enough.
“Last bit, last bit,” he begged. “I’ve nailed it for the speeches I promise. You’re going to love this.” He fiddled around with his phone before looking up with a cheeky grin. “I hear you’re going to be first up Emily so I thought this would be perfect.”
Like a Virgin by Madonna filled the room.
“Then for the best man I needed something that really communicated my thoughts and emotions for the day so here it is.”
I Wanna Kiss the Bride by Elton John nearly forced a small smile onto Emily’s thin lips.
“And then for my best mate Drew at possibly his most nerve-wracking part of the day,” said Toby. “I’ve gone for something to really pull at those heart strings.”
Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths wiped the smile straight off Emily’s face again.
“And finally for that all-important first dance. The song that will define you as a couple to your family and friends for the rest of your lives. The song that everyone will be wishing they had chosen as their first dance at their wedding. Here it is. Please take the floor Mr. and Mrs. Carter!”
I Don’t Feel Like Dancing by the Scissor Sisters was the song that Toby had deemed suitable to serenade them into married life.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” he asked, feigning offence at Emily and Drew’s glares. “I could have gone for this.” I Touch Myself by the Divinyls replaced the upbeat tune. “Or even this.” The melancholy voices of 10cc filled the room. The words to I’m Not in Love swirled around them and seeped into the very core of Drew’s brain transporting him to a place that he usually only inhabited at three o’clock in the morning when he sometimes woke up in a cold sweat. He was dragged back into the room when Toby grabbed him and pulled him onto the dance floor twirling him round and round. Drew began to feel sick and disorientated as the mixture of cocktail and spinning churned up his insides.
“I’m not in
love,” boomed Toby in his face over and over again until Drew could stand it no more.
“Switch it off,” he shouted. “Switch it off!” He held his head in his hands trying to stop the room continuing to spin around him and to block out Toby’s repeated chant.
“Switch it off,” he said a little more quietly as everyone stared at him in silence after Toby had finally found the off switch.
“Hey, calm down,” said Toby. “It was just a joke mate. You know me. Thought you’d find it funny. Obviously I went too far,” he said tucking his phone back in his pocket and giving it a protective pat.
Drew couldn’t speak, he was trembling slightly.
“Look I’ll give you a list,” said Emily opening up her file and writing something down. “Stuff we think is appropriate. Oh and we won’t be having a first dance will we Drew?” She looked at him in shared understanding. “Neither of us likes dancing.”
Drew had a sudden flashback to earlier in the evening when he was swinging his hips and arms and laughing hysterically.
“No, neither of us likes dancing,’ he replied.
Chapter 7
Dear Suzie
I am sixteen years old and my boyfriend wants to have sex with me two weeks on Friday. We are going to a house party and there won’t be any parents there so all the boys have shared out thirty-minute timeslots for sole use of one of the bedrooms. My boyfriend wants to know if I will have sex with him because if I won’t he says he’ll ask somebody else as he doesn’t want to waste his timeslot. I want my first time to be perfect and I am worried that half an hour won’t be long enough. Should I ask him to book two time slots?
Please help me,
Sophie
Dear Sophie,
If it takes longer than half an hour please send me your boyfriend’s number! I’m just joking. Seriously, I have some very important advice for you.
DON’T HAVE SEX, YOU WON’T ENJOY IT.
Having sex with a sixteen-year-old boy can never be good. Remember he won’t have done it very often if at all. Consider this. Would you get in a car with him the first time he has to drive? No. He’d be all fingers and thumbs, stops and starts, no idea what knobs and buttons to press, all of which would add up to an extremely uncomfortable ride. And an extremely uncomfortable ride is all you can expect if you have sex with him.
Now let’s get to the real problems. The sharing of timeslots and his threat of asking someone else. Wake up Sophie. This is unacceptable behaviour and you are letting these boys take advantage of you. Tell him you will have sex with him and he should book two timeslots because you are so convinced he is going to be mind-blowing in the sack. When you get him in the room tell him you have been lusting after his body for ages and you want to see him naked immediately. When he has stripped off, laugh hysterically and run out of the room to the kitchen where you will have a pre-prepared chart at the ready for all of you girls to mark just how small your boyfriend’s penises are.
Good luck
Suzie
“Why?” cried Jackie hitting the sheet of paper containing Suzie’s letter with the back of her hand. “Why weren’t you around when I was a teenager? This is exactly what I needed to hear. If you’d been there I might not have got knocked up at eighteen and married that shitbag Carl.”
“I was around Jackie,” pointed out Suzie. “We’ve been best mates since we were five.”
“Then why the bloody hell didn’t you say this to me then?” asked Jackie looking more than offended. “Look at me. I’m knee deep in kids. If you’d shown this type of intelligence then, my life might have turned out entirely differently.”
Suzie looked down at Troy who was bouncing happily on her knee as she sat at Jackie’s kitchen table. She knew Jackie didn’t really mean it. Although she was firm that Troy was the very last of her four kids. The pre-vasectomy baby as she liked to call him. She also had her teenage pregnancy mistake baby as she described Jamie and her pretending Jamie wasn’t a mistake baby called Cara. They were both fathered by Carl her childhood sweetheart who after ten years together got struck by a chronic case of nostalgia for his teens and ran off with a seventeen-year-old school girl. It had taken her two years to recover and find Dave and then she had her we must be mad to do this again baby Lenny and finally Troy whose birthday would forever be remembered as the day before his Dad had the snip.
“I didn’t know then what I know now did I?” said Suzie in an attempt to defend her apparent lack of good advice for her best friend in her youth.
Jackie looked at her deep in thought as if casting her mind back to their early days.
“You’re right. You were clueless.”
“I wasn’t that bad.”
“Suzie,” said Jackie putting her hands on her hips. “Christian Sleaford told you that Appletiser could kill sperm and you should use it after sex.”
“I never believed him.”
“You did so. You said to me …” Jackie paused and doubled over shaking with laughter. “God it still makes me laugh today,” she said straightening up again and taking a deep breath. “I swear Suzie, you said to me it was a shame it wasn’t Orange Tango because you didn’t like the taste of Appletiser.”
Suzie could feel herself going bright red. Sometimes having a friend who knew everything about you was both a positive and a negative.
“All I can say Jackie is that clearly I was a lot more successful with contraception than you were,” retorted Suzie.
Jackie reached over to relieve Suzie of Troy and sat down to feed him a bottle. “Fair play Suze,” she said kissing the top of his head. “You’ve got me there.”
“But this,” she said handing Suzie’s teenage heartbreak letter back to her. “This is really good. When I think of all the stupid things I put myself through as a teenager because I knew no better.” She shook her head in dismay.
“Not to mention what we let boys put us through,” said Suzie.
“Exactly,” declared Jackie.
“So will you help me find him then?” asked Suzie.
“Who?”
“Patrick Connolly.”
Jackie screwed her face up. “You mean your first true love?”
“Yes, my first true love, the one who also broke my heart if you remember.” Suzie felt herself blush like she used to as a teenager.
“I’m not likely to forget it,” said Jackie. “You were so upset you turned to the bottle. You forced us to go hardcore and switch from Cinzano to Martini Bianco.”
“Only because Cinzano reminded me too much of him. I couldn’t bear to even smell it anymore,” defended Suzie.
“But I loved Cinzano,” declared Jackie. “Bianco got up my nose and made me feel dizzy.”
There was a pause as they stared at each other before Jackie spoke up.
“Never, ever tell Dave that those words came out of my mouth,” she begged.
“What’s it worth?” asked Suzie.
“Whatever. You name it. That statement would probably be grounds for divorce if he heard it.”
“Well help me find Patrick and you might find that I’ve forgotten all about it,” said Suzie.
“Why on earth do you want to see that toe-rag again after all this time?” asked Jackie.
“Because it’s his turn next,” she replied. “I’m going to get my revenge on him for breaking my heart.”
“What, you mean like you did with Alex?” Jackie asked her eyes wide in amazement.
“Just like Alex,” replied Suzie calmly.
Jackie surveyed her before offering her verdict on the plan.
“Well good for you,” she said slapping her on the back.
“I’m done with looking back on my life and seeing myself at the mercy of any Tom, Dick or Harry who wanted to take advantage,” said Suzie firmly. “Time to rewrite history.”
“Wow,” said Jackie. “I’ll have some of whatever you’re having please. You are a woman on a mission.”
“Well I will be if you can think of anyone who
might still be in touch with Patrick,” said Suzie.
“Oh well that’s easy. Me.”
“What?”
“We’re friends on Facebook.”
“How come?”
“Well he sent me a friend request.”
“And you accepted?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” exclaimed Suzie. “He broke your best friend’s heart!”
“I take it this means he didn’t send you a request then?” asked Jackie arching her eyebrows.
“No he didn’t,” said Suzie knowing that her distress at this fact was written all over her face.
“Perhaps it got lost in the post,” said Jackie.
“Funny,” bit back Suzie. “So how is he?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
“Well let’s take a look shall we,” replied Jackie standing up, Troy still in her arms. “Come into my office,” she walked over to the kitchen counter and opened up a laptop.
They were so immersed in a detailed analysis of every aspect of Patrick’s Facebook page that they didn’t notice Dave, Jackie’s husband, walk into the kitchen having arrived home from work.
“What are you looking at,” he boomed as he stared over their shoulders at a photograph of Patrick clutching some woman’s breasts in a nightclub on a mate’s stag-do in Tenerife.
“Oh, hi love,” said Jackie without tearing her eyes away from the screen. “This is Patrick,” she said pointing at a very pink face peeping out from behind a mass of boob. “Suzie’s going to do her next Bobbitt on him.”
“What’s a Bobbitt mummy?” asked Lenny suddenly appearing at his mother’s side. “Can I have a biscuit?”
Jackie looked down at Lenny contemplating her response. “Bobbitt was the name of a lady who cut off her husband’s willy because he did something really bad,” she said. “Do you understand?” she asked him.
“Ladies,” exclaimed a shocked Dave covering Lenny’s ears. “What is going on in here?”
“You know I don’t believe in lying to the kids,” said Jackie.
