by Annie Dyer
Georgia looked amused. “Make the most of it, Immy. Try to enjoy it.”
I nodded. “It might be the only time I get married.”
“Hopefully it will be. Anyway, are you ready for tomorrow?”
Tomorrow was my hen do, the last time I’d be out as a single woman. The hen dos I’d been on had been full of fake veils, plastic penises, and drunken dances with random men, and I had absolutely no desire to put myself through that. Maven and Catrin had been disappointed, but then they’d not been on a rollercoaster of a last few weeks.
“I’m looking forward to it.” I was. We were going shopping; I was treating myself to a new bag or two, then we were heading to St Asaph’s Lane Hotel for a night in their suite, with a meal, cocktails and all the rom-coms we could dream of, with no need to get made up to go out. There would be enough of that in a couple of weeks.
Georgia nodded, and gave me a smile that told me she knew more than what I’d said. “Why don’t you take a few days leave? You need to pack your stuff up to move into Noah’s.”
That was one of the scarier things: I’d be living with Noah. I’d not lived with anyone but my family and a couple of friends before, and never a man – Shay didn’t count.
“I’m thinking about it.” Although being in work was a great distraction, a couple of days just to sleep would be good.
“What are you doing tonight? Catrin mentioned something about going out for a meal, but Rose has a friend over for a sleep-over.” Georgia jumped down off the sinks.
“We’ve got a table booked at Simone’s restaurant. I’m not sure who’s going, but I kind of wish it was a takeaway and crap TV.” Only my sisters were far too hyped up about the whole thing. Lainey was arriving for the weekend too, and it had been far too long since all of us had been together.
Georgia looked thoughtful. “What exactly have you got left to do this afternoon?”
“A meeting with counsel on the Oppenheim file.”
“I can do that. Go home. Have an afternoon nap and a long bath. Breathe.” She headed to the door. “That’s an order.”
“You’re not my boss!” I laughed, but I didn’t argue.
“Someone needs to be.”
An afternoon to myself did make things feel better. I’d lost count of the number of decisions I’d made over the last three weeks: flavours of the different cake tiers, canape menus, a wedding dress, music for the first dance, seating plans – and that was on top of all the usual work stuff.
By the time I was at the restaurant with my siblings and cousins, I felt better. Catrin was a big advocate for self-care, and when she’d rushed home early to get ready, she’d found me under a blanket watching re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and straight away understood where my head was at.
“We haven’t planned any shenanigans,” she’d said. “Shopping, then the hotel for a mass pyjama party. I can even change the meal to pizzas.”
I nodded, then she’d given up the time she’d have spent with a face mask, and jumped under the blankets with me, watching as Buffy slayed the manifestation of all our demons in just one night.
Because my sisters were planners by nature, we’d mapped out the shops we were going to, including a boutique designer bag store in Knightsbridge that we’d needed to make an appointment for. We’d kept the shopping to just the four of us and Ava, meeting up with the others at the hotel later.
I was a handbag aficionado, loving nothing more than the perfect shoulder bag or clutch, in a material that wouldn’t wear and a design that would always be current. I erred to the classic designers such as Mulberry and Coach, but there was a special place in my heart for Chanel.
We were met at the door by a host, knowing our names already and settling us at a sofa with glasses of champagne.
“Imogen,” she said, smiling at me as if she was aware that this could be a great commission day for her. “I believe you’re the bride to be?”
I nodded, feeling shy. I wasn’t always comfortable with being the centre of attention unless it was to do with work.
The host smiled, a kind smile and I saw a tinge of excitement in her eyes. “The groom has asked you each to choose a bag as a gift from him.” She looked directly at me. “We have some of the pre-season Chanel collection for you to choose from, and the 2.55 from this season. Let me know when you’re ready to see them.”
I didn’t know what to say. Noah knew about the bag fetish. He’d been both amused and confounded by my collection, which was small, but well curated. Each bag had a story behind it – my graduation from my degree, the day I’d qualified as a solicitor, my twenty-first birthday; all of them had a reason for their purchase and had been carefully thought out.
Noah was showing me something with this: acceptance. My sisters and Ava were besides themselves, and Ava had already phoned her husband, Eli, to find out why he’d never managed a gesture like this, which I knew Eli would just laugh at.
I followed the host into a separate room which I’d only been in once before, and that was just to look. I’d never had the big reason to treat myself to an iconic bag like Chanel, although I guessed an engagement should count as one.
“Mr Soames said to choose whichever you’d like. We’ll have it delivered to your hotel. You might want to look at these.” She was prepared, a few handbags already laid out for me to look at, but I couldn’t focus on them right now.
“Do you mind if I just phone my fiancé?”
The host smiled at me. “Of course. Take your time.”
Noah answered on the third ring. I could hear the sounds of a bar in the background, which made me laugh. I knew his brothers had planned to kidnap him on an impromptu stag do today, Seph and Shay joining them.
“I thought you’d be too busy choosing a bag.” He sounded surprised. The noise behind him quietened.
“That was so sweet and too generous. You realise you’ve just bought my sisters and caused Ava to yell at Eli.”
He laughed. “Just enjoy it. You’ll be having a much better time than I am.”
“Where are you?”
“You don’t want to know.” I heard him groan. “Please don’t ask because I don’t want to lie to you, and Georgia and Vivi don’t want to know either.”
I started to laugh. “They’ve taken you to a strip club?” It was the last place I could imagine Noah being comfortable.
“It was Connor’s idea. Don’t ask any more.”
I laughed harder, half wishing we could crash it, maybe rescue Noah from a fate worse than being in a handbag shop – I knew he wouldn’t have enjoyed this anymore.
“This though. I want to say it’s too much, but I’d be lying. Thank you.” I felt tears prick at my eyes and I blinked them back. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It wasn’t. It’s an extra. Enjoy choosing.” He was quiet for a second. “I would buy you them all, you know, if that would make you happy.”
“I don’t need all of them to be happy, Noah. I don’t even need one. But the thought you put into this – that’s made my weekend, even longer than that.”
“Just enjoy choosing. And maybe I’ll see you tomorrow – if I survive tonight.” He gave a long sigh and I heard Seph yell something in the background. “I better go. If they think I’m trying to skive, they might make me stay here longer.”
“Who goes to a strip club on a Saturday afternoon?” I had no concerns about him being there, just Shay really, because fuck knew who he’d leave with.
“Ex-rugby players, that’s who. I’d best go, they’re getting restless.”
I laughed again, wanting to say something else to end the conversation, something that a woman might say to the man she was marrying in just a couple of weeks. “Try and enjoy it. I’ll come round tomorrow and check you’re alive.”
“Please. But pay no attention to Gus’ corpse that might be somewhere on my property. I’ll have it professionally disposed of. Choose your bag wisely.”
It took us another couple of minutes to
end the call, and by then, I felt a little more level, the hugeness of Noah’s gesture becoming accepted.
My heart sang, and I looked at the handbags and choose one for what it was – an engagement gift from my fiancé.
Somehow, despite being in a luxurious hotel, we managed to create the atmosphere of a teenaged girls’ sleepover. A pile of pizza boxes were in the corner, shopping bags under the table, and the posh sitting room with its luxury white leather sofas was littered with women wearing pyjamas and loungewear, several wearing a thick green facemask which had been concocted by Lainey.
There were more empty bottles of champagne than I cared to count, and a trolley full of used cocktail glasses.
Victoria let out a delicate burp and looked around to see if anyone had actually heard her.
“I heard that.” Vanessa, Jackson’s wife lounged back against the Vic’s legs. “I should be going soon. Small boys like to have their mummies there in the morning.”
“And she’s referring to Jackson there, not Teddy.” Vic ruffled Vanessa’s hair. “We’ll share a cab. That’s if I can move. I’ve eaten too much and drank too much.”
Claire still looked perfectly put together, which no one ever understood, given she had three children under five. “You need more practice. Stay in my room for the night – Jacks and Maxwell will cope.”
Van shook her head. “Teddy has swimming in the morning, and I haven’t sorted out his kit. If I leave it to Jackson, he’ll be swimming naked.”
Claire shrugged. “Let him do it. He won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“Are you staying here, Claire?” Maven was probably the most drunk of all of us, but she was staying in my suite, so had no reason to move anywhere, except the bathroom.
“I am. Killian has the kids and they can manage without me. If they couldn’t, I’d be insane by now.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I’ve had one text and a good night phone call.”
“What was the text?” Lainey asked. “I’ve had four from Jake in the last hour.”
“It was from Killian asking which was the best Chinese to order take out from. What were Jake’s?” Claire topped up her champagne.
“One was telling me to have a good night. The second was a message telling me he missed me. The third was a list of all the jobs he’d done today, and the fourth was a dick pick. Thankfully it was his.” Lainey tucked her feet under her on the floor and found a slice of pizza.
“Was there any chance it might not have been his?” Ava looked very interested. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a dick pic sent.”
“Eli not into that?” Georgia asked. She was also staying over, her sister, Olivia, looking after Rose for the night.
“He has phases.” Ava smiled knowingly. “Has Jake sent a pic of someone else’s?’
Lainey nodded. “Long story. It was his brother, Alex’s, and it was meant for Alex’s wife, Abby. They apparently have very similar penises. Abby and I spent an evening comparing photos of them.”
There were a few more questions about small town life, and various plans made to visit for a weekend, with promises of horse-riding lessons for children. I missed Lainey, but she was the happiest I’d ever seen her since moving to Severton to start her own therapy practice. Jake was a big part of that too.
Later on that night, or rather in the early hours of Sunday morning, after those who weren’t staying had gone home, my sisters and Georgia were collapsed on the sofas, the closing credits of Dirty Dancing flickering on the screen.
We were all out of practice of late nights and drinks.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married to someone I’ve only met once.” Lainey’s words were partly slurred. We were cutting her off after this one. “I mean, you met Jake loads before we got engaged.”
The wash of guilt I’d been trying to stop all day came stronger this time. I looked over at Georgia, who shook her head.
I nodded back. I knew I shouldn’t tell, but I’d never dream of keeping something this big from my sisters. It felt wrong, and if the agreement did end with us divorcing, I’d need their support, and understanding.
“There’s a reason it was quick.” I chugged the remainder of my champagne.
“Well, we know you’re not pregnant.” Maven pointed to my glass. “No more for anyone. Champagne has that horrible after taste the following day.”
I turned the TV off. “Noah and I aren’t really a couple.”
Three blank faces stared at me.
I shook my head. “He wanted to get married while his grandfather was well enough to be a guest. I offered. We have an agreement that we’ll be married for a year, and if one of us wants, we’ll separate after that.”
Three jaws dropped open.
“So this is a pretend wedding?” Cat was first to get her wits together enough to speak.
“No. We are actually getting married.”
The look of shock was still there on all of them.
“But,” Georgia intervened. “There’s more to it. You’ve seen them together – Immy isn’t that good an actress.”
Lainey’s jaw finally closed, only to open again and have words come out. “No. This is bullshit. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And today with the bags – that was really, really special, Im.”
“He’s a good guy. But we’re not in love or anything.” I felt a pang of regret for telling them, not because I wished I’d lied, but because they all looked as if I’d shattered their hearts.
“You sure about that?” Georgia stood up. “Because I don’t buy this arrangement just being an arrangement – on either side.” Her phone vibrated. “And I like him. He’s sending me pictures of Seph comatose on his sofa from Seph’s phone. Someone needs to talk to that man about personal security.”
She passed me the phone. It was in fact a selfie of Seph and Noah, with Seph’s head on Noah’s lap, fast asleep, his mouth open a little.
“Attractive.” I passed her the phone back. “You can’t say anything to anyone. This is a complete secret, but I hated lying to you all.”
Catrin sat up. “I speak on behalf of us all. We’re here for you if it ends. But I’m going to pretend you didn’t just tell us all of that, because I was really enjoying your love story and the fact you’ve met someone so perfect for you, Immy. He’s chilled where you’re highly strung; he lives in the moment, whereas you’re a planner. I like you together. I’m pro Imo-ah.”
“Oh, fuck, you’ve made a portmanteau of our names.” I shook my head. “We’re doomed.”
Maven was the only one who didn’t laugh. “Seconding what Cat said, all of it, and adding this – you’ve got as much chance of it working out as any other couple from what I’ve seen, maybe more. And he’s treated you better than any man you’ve dated before.”
I nodded, and let the conversation drift, sending Noah a quick text when the attention was on Lainey rather than me.
Hope you’ve had a good night. See you tomorrow. X
He replied straight away, a photo of him in bed, hair mussed, accompanied with just a kiss back.
I wasn’t just falling anymore. I had fallen.
There was a final fitting for my dress and the bridesmaids’ outfits the Monday after my hen do, planned because Lainey had managed to rearrange her schedule and stay a little longer.
To keep things easy to manage, I’d used the same outfitter, working with the idea that simple was key, as this was the one thing I couldn’t delegate to anyone else to oversee the finer details, like we had with the event planner. It had also helped that I knew my style and what I liked. I wasn’t one of those women who had an entire scrapbook dedicated to wedding dresses, that was Maven, who had ideas categorised by theme, season and style. I liked simple, with a hint of elegance.
And that was what I’d gone for. It had been the third dress I’d tried on, Georgia and Rose my audience, and we’d stopped there, my mind made up. The sales girl had suggested a couple of alterations – I think she was co
ncerned it wouldn’t be unique enough – and they’d worked with what I wanted.
Bridesmaid dresses had been more of an issue, as three sisters, all with very different tastes, were never going to be able to agree easily, or at all.
So I’d played the bridezilla card and made the decision for them, thrown in a few tears and nobody had wanted to upset the bride-to-be. Now my sisters were lined up in a luxuriously big dressing room, that didn’t have any dust bunnies, each wearing their dress.
I’d stepped away from traditional wedding colours and opted for a teal green, a rich shade that felt seasonal without mentioning Christmas, but the material was not the usual sateen. It was a crushed velvet and a design that allowed for food to be eaten without the need for Spanx; flowy and pretty, there was definitely no reason to wear scaffolding underneath.
All that was needed now were the usual tucks and buttons that meant my sisters would be comfortable, because what I didn’t need on my wedding day was to be sorting out their whinges.
I stood in a separate smaller room with my wedding dress on, the seamstress adding a few pins to tighten where I’d lost the inevitable bit of weight. I was nervous, I couldn’t lie. The wedding was small by society standards – seventy people to the actual ceremony, then about one hundred and thirty more to the wedding breakfast and party, but for me that felt a lot. Most from Noah’s side I wouldn’t have met beforehand. I wasn’t part of the families that made up England and Scotland’s upper classes; I hadn’t been a debutante or mixed within the large homes that Noah’s contemporaries came from, although I had known some at school.
Put me in a courtroom with a judge and a high-pressured case, and I knew my way around. I was confident and self-assured. I knew my worth and just how fucking good I was.
Put me in a social situation as the centre-piece and I had no clue what to expect.
The door opened, and through the mirror I saw my aunt Marie, the only person I’d agreed could come in. I wanted my dress to be a surprise to everyone, because then at least they’d be looking at the dress rather than me as a bag of nerves.