by Anna Bell
‘Well, you didn’t really think we’d let you get away without having one, did you?’ says Kerry, giggling.
‘You can’t not have a stag,’ says Gaz, slapping Danny on the back. ‘Where’s the fun in that? You’ve both got to be ritually humiliated as we were on ours.’
I’m slightly relieved that he seems a lot happier than he was at his house last week. Hopefully, he sobered up and realised that he’d let his imagination run away with itself, just like I had.
‘Now, go get dressed, we’ve got lots planned for this evening,’ says Kerry as she plonks a box down on the coffee table and starts pulling out champagne flutes.
I’m too shocked to move.
‘You’re throwing us a joint hen and stag do?’ I say, looking over at Stuart. I haven’t seen him since Kerry’s wedding and I wish I was wearing more clothes.
‘That’s the plan. We’ve got a couple of things lined up for tomorrow and then we’re going to have a big night here tomorrow evening.’
‘Go on,’ says Lucy, throwing our clothes at us. ‘We’ll get the bubbles flowing ready for you when you get back.’
Danny picks our clothes up off the floor where they landed and walks towards me. He has to bundle me out of the door as, whilst it’s sweet of them to have gone to so much trouble to surprise us, I can’t help mourning the loss of the lazy, romantic evening I had planned.
‘I can’t believe they’ve done this,’ I say as Danny leads me upstairs into the bedroom. ‘Kerry was so bloody sneaky suggesting we meet halfway and then helping me to find this place. She planned it all along.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Stuart’s been involved since the start too, it’s the kind of thing he’d do.’
‘Do you think we could just stay here?’ I say, looking longingly at the super king-size bed that’s covered in a thick white duvet with a silky turquoise throw over the top – it looks ridiculously comfortable.
‘You know they’d knock the door down. Come on, it might be fun; there are only the four of them, it’s not as if they’ve invited everyone we know.’
I start to put my underwear on.
‘That’s true, and it’s nice that we’re all able to spend some time together so everyone can get to know each other before the wedding.’
‘Exactly. Plus, with it being a joint sten do, it’s not like it’s going to be wild with strippers and . . .’
‘You don’t know Lucy,’ I say thinking back to Caroline’s twenty-fifth birthday kissagram who did a little bit more than kissing.
‘I think it’s nice of them though, to have all got together and organised this,’ he says.
I groan as I put the dress over my head. ‘I know, I’m sounding ungrateful. It’s just our time together is precious at the moment and I wanted you all to myself.’
Danny buttons up his shirt, leans over and gives me a kiss.
‘We’re going to have the rest of our lives together; I guess one weekend apart isn’t going to hurt. Besides, we’ve still got this cottage and we’ll be sleeping here.’
‘Oh, yes,’ I say, slipping my hands under his shirt. ‘I guess that’s true. And didn’t they say tomorrow night’s the big night? Maybe we can get everyone to have an early night tonight.’
‘Knock, knock, knock,’ shouts Lucy as she taps on the door. ‘I hope you’re putting on clothes.’
‘We’re decent,’ we say, pulling apart.
She opens the door and strolls in handing us each a flute of bubbles.
‘Time to get the party started,’ she says.
*
‘Right, now that we’ve all had a little something to eat, I think we should play a game,’ says Kerry clapping her hands together. She’s loving this whole sten do thing far too much and it’s making me nervous.
‘What type of game?’ says Danny. ‘Is this what women do on hen dos?’
‘Go with it,’ says Gaz. ‘I’d been angling for us to do a stag thing – you know, stick the pubes on your face to make a beard-type thing.’
‘I vetoed that,’ says Lucy, ‘as FYI that is officially the grossest thing that I have ever heard of. Why are stag dos so evil?’
‘You’ve got to humiliate the stag, that’s the whole point. Come on, I’ve seen enough hen dos, you do the same with the tacky L-plates and the like,’ says Stuart.
‘Yeah, why do we do that?’ says Kerry. ‘Fear not, there will be none of that here, well, not tonight anyway, but there will be games. So first up is Mr and Mrs. Now all we need to do is get you two to sit back to back.’
We get passed a whiteboard and a pen each.
I look at Danny nervously before I let Lucy drag me into position. If I’d known that they were going to do this, I would have let them organise an all-singing and dancing hen do somewhere far, far away from my fiancé. Having some slimy male stripper gyrating on me would have been preferable to this. What if I get none of the answers right? I’ve known Danny all my life, but I’ve only known him as a lover for a few weeks. What if everyone realises how little we know about each other and they try and stop the wedding?
‘OK,’ says Kerry, ‘so first question.’
‘Hold up,’ says Danny. ‘What is this, can you at least tell me the rules?’
‘Oh, I just assumed you’d have watched the TV show. OK, so I ask a question like ‘What’s Lydia’s favourite drink?’ and you have to write down what you think it is and Lydia has to write down what her actual favourite is.’
‘OK, that doesn’t sound too bad,’ he says. ‘Beer.’
‘Yes, but obviously we won’t make it that easy. So, first question. What is the name of Danny’s celebrity crush?’
Oh God. I know this. I actually know this. I scribble furiously on my white board, even drawing a picture. Please don’t let it have changed. Please don’t let it have changed.
‘OK, so Lydia.’
‘I’ve got Kylie Minogue.’
‘What the fuck’s that drawing?’ says Lucy almost dying with laughter.
‘It’s Kylie in her gold hot pants.’
‘Danny,’ says Kerry and there’s a low whistle as he reveals that it’s Kylie.
‘In her gold hot pants,’ she says, reading it off the board. ‘Really? Isn’t she old enough to be your mum?’
‘Woah,’ says Stuart holding his hands up. ‘You can’t diss Kylie.’
‘No, no, no,’ says Gaz shaking his head.
‘Move on,’ I whisper. ‘Move on quickly.’
‘OK, then, Danny, who would play Lydia in the movie of her life?’
I scribble down my answer, not having a clue who Danny would pick. This hasn’t exactly come up in passing.
‘So Danny . . .’ says Kerry leaning forward, clearly on tenterhooks.
‘Anne Hathaway.’
‘What?’ I say rolling over my board to reveal Jennifer Lawrence. Kerry and Lucy nod in approval. ‘You think Anne Hathaway would play me?’
‘What? She’s pretty and she’d play the girl-next-door role perfectly.’
Lucy and Kerry tut and shake their heads.
‘What’s wrong with Anne Hathaway?’ asks Danny, genuinely sounding hurt. ‘I thought you loved her in that movie, what was it, the Princess thing? You made me watch it.’
Gaz rolls his eyes.
‘No, it was when we were teenagers,’ he says for clarification. ‘Julie Andrews was in it.’
‘Oh, that’s doing your street cred so many more favours,’ says Gaz.
‘The Princess Diaries,’ I say. ‘She was all right in that. I mean she’s a really good actress, it’s just she’s not Jennifer Lawrence.’
‘She is not,’ says Kerry shaking her head. ‘Next up, Lydia, what’s Danny’s favourite part of your body?’
I don’t even hesitate before writing boobs, and, of course, I’m right. I am so winning this game.
‘Danny, what food would Lydia most want to lick off your body?’
I think back to his selection of spreads – if he writes soddi
ng marmalade, the wedding’s off.
‘Nutella,’ he says and I give him a little congratulatory pat on the arm.
We breeze through the rest of the questions and it turns out we know each other surprisingly well, although it did highlight that we should maybe be a bit more adventurous as we both put doggy style for our favourite position, and the strangest place we’d had sex was in my room whilst Frozen was playing in the living room above.
‘So,’ I say yawning theatrically, ‘have you got much more planned for us? It’s been rather a long day.’
‘No, that’s it for tonight,’ says Lucy. ‘We’re saving the best for tomorrow.’
‘Can’t wait,’ I say sarcastically. ‘So, we’ll see you all for breakfast, then.’
I expect them to get the hint and drink up, and I’m relieved when Lucy and Kerry jump up.
‘Right, let’s go,’ says Lucy, trying to pull me up too.
‘Uh, what do you mean? I’m staying here.’
‘Oh no, we might have given you a joint hen and stag do, but we’re separating you overnight.’
I look at Danny in horror.
‘Come on,’ says Lucy picking up my bag from the corner of the lounge. ‘We’ve got a nice bed for you next door.’
I can’t believe we’re going to be separated all weekend. At this rate Danny and I will be sneaking off to the woodshed – but I guess at least that would help us with our need to be more adventurous with our sex life.
‘You know this is our only chance to see each other?’ I say pleading on behalf of my libido. ‘We’ve not seen each other all week.’
‘Well, it’s lucky you got a little bit of time together before we arrived, then, wasn’t it?’ says Kerry grinning. ‘Chop, chop.’
I lean down and kiss Danny on the lips.
‘Get a room,’ says Gaz, throwing crisps at our heads.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I say longingly, as if I’m never going to see him again.
He doesn’t let go of my hand and instead pulls me in for another kiss before he whispers he’ll miss me.
I notice as we leave that Stuart has put another three tins of beer on the table. I’m guessing they’re not turning in any time soon.
This so wasn’t what we’d planned for our weekend away.
‘Come on, you’ll need your sleep,’ says Lucy, giggling. ‘You’ll need all your energy for what we’ve got in store for you tomorrow.’
No, not what I’d planned at all.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I see your stag do and I raise it tenfold with the hen do from hell for my friend, Caroline. I thought it was going to be a tame affair as she’s pregnant and we’d chosen Paris to be cultural. Only the rest of us ended up drinking Champagne like it was water, which turned out to be no bad thing as the Moulin Rouge cabaret evening that they’d planned was a bit less can-can, a bit more fan-fan, if you get what I mean. Needless to say, I don’t have any souvenirs to send you other than the mental scars I have on my brain.
Email; Lydia to Danny, April 2018
‘Right, so what’s on the agenda today then?’ I say skulking downstairs in a pair of oversized pyjamas. Lucy and Kerry very astutely guessed that I wouldn’t have packed anything to wear in bed, or at least anything that was suitable to wear in front of the girls, and they’d picked me up some pyjamas. And after the changing-room incident they’d erred on the side of caution and gone bigger just in case.
The stairs in the cottage lead straight into the open-plan lounge-diner and I notice that they’ve laid the table like it’s a B&B. Kerry pulls a tray of hot croissants out of the oven and gingerly picks each of them out and throws them down onto the plate, all the while blowing her fingers as they’re so hot.
‘Yum,’ I say feeling spoilt. ‘This looks amazing.’
‘I thought we’d start with these,’ she says handing me a cup of hot coffee.
‘Eat a lot,’ says Lucy sitting down at the table. ‘You need to keep your strength up.’
‘Oh God, please tell me that we’re not going ghyll scrambling. I don’t think I could do that again, and I’ve washed my hair this morning.’
‘No, your hair will be fine,’ says Kerry and I notice that Lucy wrinkles her eyebrows. ‘Oh yes, your hair might not be fine – but it won’t get wet.’
She smiles and nods as if this is a bonus but that just makes me fear that it’s going to get messy from bungee jumping. I keep reminding myself that a few weeks ago I told myself I was going to make more of an effort to #LiveMyBestLife and I should be embracing all these new adventures and spontaneity. Clearly, I should be careful what I wish for.
‘What time are we leaving?’ I say, reaching over and taking another croissant.
‘Nine o’clock,’ says Kerry.
I look up at the big clock in the living room; we’ve got an hour. I reach over for my phone to text Danny. Maybe he’s got some clue as to what we’re doing today and maybe we’ve got time to rendezvous at the wood pile.
I’ve got as far as typing Hey Sexy when the phone is snatched out of my hands.
‘What the—?’ I say looking up at Lucy, who’s turning it off and slipping it into her pocket.
‘I don’t think so,’ she says shaking her head. ‘Not on the hen do.’
‘No, no, no,’ says Kerry joining in.
I finish eating my second croissant in a bit of a sulk.
‘Right, we better get you ready,’ says Lucy, standing up.
‘But I haven’t finished my coffee.’
‘You can bring it with you,’ says Lucy.
Her eyes are dancing and I haven’t seen a smile on her face like this since she discovered that nutella had brought out a chocolate bar.
I slowly stand up and walk upstairs, wondering what horror is going to face me. For Kerry we went out with her dressed in a floral bridesmaid dress circa 1980. I can’t even hope that Lucy will go easy on me for fear of retaliation on her hen do, as, to be honest, she is up for anything when it comes to fancy dress, and she can pull anything off too.
I open the door and there, neatly laid out on the bed, are a pair of white yoga pants and a white camisole.
‘Um, is this it?’ I ask, cautiously. Despite the trousers looking a little MC Hammer I seem to be getting out of this lightly.
Lucy cackles with laughter. ‘There are more clothes, but pop these on first and then your dressing gown and we’ll dress you downstairs.’
I give my best scowl but Lucy winks at me before disappearing out of the door.
Ten minutes later, and I’m in the living room. I’m not the only one in odd clothing. Kerry’s in a red T-shirt and Lucy’s in a green one and both are wearing black leggings. I have no idea what is going on.
‘Do you think it’s time?’ asks Lucy.
‘I think so,’ says Kerry and she hands me a suit bag.
I don’t know if I really want to look, but I take it and hang it on one of the wooden beams and slowly unzip it.
There’s a purple waistcoat with gold trim inside.
‘Aladdin? You want me to be Aladdin,’ I say, slipping it on.
Lucy comes over and fastens the waistcoat together with a safety pin.
‘You need the hat.’
I look in the bag and there at the bottom is what looks like a puffy shower cap that’s got white and red spots on it.
‘Um . . .’ I say, looking at it.
‘We warned you your hair might get messed up,’ says Kerry laughing.
I look at them and then back down at the shower cap before I slip it on. ‘What the hell am I supposed to be?’ I ask, as I look at myself in the mirror.
Kerry and Lucy go over to the other side of the room and slip on dungarees and suddenly it all seems to fit into place. Especially when they attach oversized moustaches to their faces and put on their hats.
‘Mario and Luigi,’ I say giggling. They actually look pretty good. ‘So that makes me?’
‘Toad,’ says Kerry enthusiastically. ‘The
mushroom from Mario Kart. We thought you’d like it because we used to play it with Danny all the time when we were kids.’
I nod. We did. We also used to play a lot of Donkey Kong too, so I guess it could have been worse.
‘We should go and see if the boys are ready,’ says Kerry, laughing.
‘Do we have to? I thought we were doing a girls thing today?’ I say, suddenly embarrassed. I’d been secretly hoping that I’d get to see Danny, but not dressed like this. Neither the waistcoat nor the trousers are flattering, and my mushroom head is doing nothing for me. I look like a prepubescent boy.
‘We are. It’s girls versus boys. Come on,’ says Lucy bundling me out.
All sense of embarrassment is eroded when I see Danny standing in front of me dressed as Princess Peach in a pink dress, blonde wig and complete with blue clip-on earrings that would give Pat Butcher a run for her money.
‘Hey you,’ he says, walking over and giving me a quick kiss. ‘Do you think it suits me?’
I look at his hairy legs sticking out of the bottom of the dress.
‘You’ve never looked sexier,’ I say, deciding that I definitely got out of this more easily than he did.
He laughs and pats me on the head.
‘My little mushroom. Imagine if we’d given them more time to plan this,’ he whispers.
‘The mind boggles.’
‘Right then, you two. That’s quite enough of that,’ says Gaz as he walks over. He’s dressed as evil Luigi in yellow dungarees. ‘Boys versus girls, remember. No fraternising with the enemy.’
‘Any idea?’ I ask Danny.
‘None,’ he says.
And with that I’m pulled away into Kerry’s car and I wave as Peach is put into Gaz’s.
*
Half an hour later, we’re standing at the side of an indoor go-kart arena. The staff gave us that not-another-stag-slash-hen-do-fancy-dress-group look then issued us with boiler suits to wear. I don’t look half bad in mine, or at least I look a whole lot better in it than in the outfit I arrived in. I’m guessing that’s not often the case.
Danny is looking particularly interesting in a boiler suit and a full face of make-up.
