‘Abso-fucking-lutely!’ What else can I say? I can’t spoil the perfect moment, can I? ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world!’
Sally grabs Rachel. ‘I am so pleased for you, it’s going to be ace. I can honestly say my wedding was the best day of my life!’
There is a squeak, it actually sounds like a small rodent in pain. Maddie’s hand is over her mouth and she practically vaults over the table (not easy in that skirt) in her rush to the Ladies’.
We all freeze. Then Sally starts to twiddle with her glass, and Rachel throws me a guilty look.
‘Sorry.’ She mouths the word barrier. ‘She said she’d be okay, she did know about …’ She throws a guilty look at Sally, who sighs.
‘I suppose we should have warned you.’
‘Warned me! What difference would being warned have made? It’s Maddie who’s upset, not me.’
‘I thought you’d already know, you know Rachel might have mentioned it, or you’d have seen it on my Instagram.’ Sal’s voice has a defensive, scratchy edge.
‘Seen what on Instagram?’ I didn’t even know Sally had an Instagram account, like I said before, we were never close. They both seem to be stuck for words. ‘Oh, you mean your wedding pics.’ I hope I don’t sound as cold as I feel.
‘Well, it’s not like I’ve done anything illegal, is it? She finished with Jack, he was heartbroken!’
I could thump her. But I don’t.
‘So you stepped in to console him?’
She shrugs. ‘Something like that. Oh whatever, it was ages ago, she should be over it all. He was available for fuck’s sake!’ Sal’s eyes are narrowed as she looks at me, then delivers her final blow. Sweetly. ‘And now he’s not.’
Chapter 10
‘Maddie? Mads?’ I’m back in the bathroom checking to see if Maddie is okay. There are only two cubicles in the posh unisex bathroom (it’s that type of trendy bar), and one is empty, so I’m guessing she’s in the other. If she isn’t, this could be embarrassing. ‘Mads?’ I bang on the door politely, then a bit harder. ‘You know I won’t go away until you come out!’
I know this full on approach will work, as Maddie has always hated a scene.
‘Hang on.’ There are some snuffling noises, then the sounds of the flush and she comes out. Her cheeks are pinker than before, and her eyes red-rimmed. She peers into the mirror, then wipes her finger under her eyelid so that her eyeliner is restored to pristine condition.
‘Oh, God, Mads. Are you okay?’
‘Of course.’ The bright smile is wavering at the edges. ‘It’s nothing, I’m fine.’ There’s a definite quiver to her bottom lip. ‘I’m just being silly.’ It comes out as si-i-i-lly.
‘You are not fine, or silly.’ I hike myself up to sit on the side of the washbasins (in a very inelegant way. How do people make it look easy? It’s like when blokes leap over fences, and you try it and end up faceplanted in a cowpat). ‘Oh, Maddie, I’m sorry.’
She touches up her lipstick with a slightly shaky hand, then slowly puts her bag down.
‘You know about Jack?’ The heavy sigh makes me frown. Jack was her first love and high-school sweetheart. It must hurt like hell.
I nod. ‘Rachel told me.’
‘I’m being stupid, it’s not like we were still together, we split ages and ages before …’ Her voice is flat, and she’s kneading her bag like a desperate kitten. ‘When he went to uni, it was so hard, and his friends were all so clever like he is, and I felt stupid and out of it whenever I went to visit him. I just felt in the way all the time. And … well, it seemed sensible to end it, but,’ she looks at me with tear-filled Bambi-wide eyes, ‘in my silly head, I thought one day he’d come back, and we could have our dream house and our babies and …’
‘Oh.’
‘I know I was being stupid and impractical, I even had this picture in my head of the hanging baskets, with Surfinias, and the cute little box hedge that I trimmed myself.’ This last bit does sound a bit impractical, but each to their own.
She sniffs. ‘And I did tell him that splitting up was for the best, but, but …’ Her lip is wobbling again, and when she turns and looks at me full on her face starts to crumble. It is so un-Maddie-like there’s a pain in my chest. ‘I didn’t really mean it! I saw them in Tesco, sharing a trolley, they had steak and strawberries!’
Hmm not exactly what you want to see when you’ve stacked up on meals for one.
She gulps. ‘I only went in for some milk! How could he marry Sally? She was my friend!’
I sink back against the wall and stare. ‘I don’t know, Maddie.’ I don’t know what to say. To be honest, this is even more of a shock than Rachel marrying Michael. I mean, even if Maddie and Jack had split, you don’t do that to a friend, do you?
‘How did they even meet?’ I dig into the past and honestly don’t remember any signs that Jack and Sal even liked each other, let alone were going to get married one day.
‘At uni.’ Maddie sniffs. ‘He said they bumped into each other, and were just friends at first, then …’
This is going to be the wedding from hell.
What was Rachel thinking? Normally, you have to be careful about who you seat where, about not putting Aunt Mabel next to Granny Bee because they’ve had a feud that dates back to the days before you were born, or the groom’s dad next to his mum, because she took him to the cleaners when they got divorced and has now married a millionaire and he is broke and lives in the part of town that nobody wants to live in.
But that’s family, not bridesmaids!
‘Oh, Mads.’ Maddie has never been a huggie person, she’s fragile and always so immaculate I reckon people are scared of either breaking her or ruffling her up. But I can’t help myself. I grab her. She’s slim to the verge of thin and feels as frail as a tiny bird but after a moment’s hesitation she hugs me back, and her hold is surprisingly firm. Firmer than mine, because I feel shaky as hell.
‘I’m going to sort this, they can’t—’
‘No!’ She’s clutching my upper arms, her gaze imploring. ‘Please don’t, please don’t say anything. Don’t make a fuss. Promise?’
‘But—’
‘This is Rachel’s day, it’s her wedding, I don’t want to spoil it. And I’ll look such a stupid idiot. Please!’ Well, however frail she looks, there is nothing wrong with her grip. My arm is beginning to feel like a pin cushion. The pain must show on my face, because she suddenly let’s go and smoothes my skin down with cool hands. ‘Sorry. It was just a shock, I’ve not seen Sal since … I knew, Jack told me, but I’ve not seen either of them, and … Oh, Jane!’ She’s fighting a losing battle with the tears. ‘It was just all the wedding talk, and imagining them … I’m sure they’re a much better match than we were, she’s so much cleverer than me and can talk to him and his friends about important stuff, and she probably just fell madly in love with him, he’s so nice.’ There’s a fresh outburst of tears.
‘He is, he was.’ He was. The Jack I remember was earnest and quiet, and, I thought, totally devoted to Maddie.
‘It’s my fault I split with him, it’s not her fault, he must have …’
I’m not so sure myself that none of this is Sal’s fault. It does take two to tango. I mean, Jack might have been stupid enough (and hurt enough) to think Maddie really meant for them to break up. But Sal? Surely Sal should have known to steer clear? I’ve never trusted Sally, she is just like a girl I knew in primary school who stood on the back of my heel so that I lost my plimsoll and the three-legged race in year five ended in disaster. That woman is competitive with a capital C.
‘I’ll be fine.’ Maddie dampens a paper towel under the cold tap and starts to pat her hot face and blotchy neck. ‘I’ve moved on.’ That is the most obviously untrue thing I have ever heard. ‘We better get back, they’ll be wondering where we are.’ She flashes a brave smile and hooks her hand through my arm. ‘Do I look okay?’
‘Fab!’ It’s another little white lie, but like I said, somet
imes needs must.
Rachel and Sally start guiltily when we return and jump apart. Rachel tops up the glasses with bubbly, and Sal looks everywhere but at Maddie with a false smile plastered to her face. If anybody looks our way now they’ll think they’ve stumbled into the film set of Stepford Wives or an episode of Humans. Relaxed and natural we are not.
I really want to drag Rachel off to the loos again and have this out (and to take a photo, that washroom is amazing with a capital A), but that would mean leaving Maddie and Sal together. Which I don’t want to do. Looks like I’m supposed to sit in the middle and stop fights breaking out. Keeping the peace has never been my forte.
Maybe it’s Sally I should be dragging off to the loo’s, and giving a good talking to. But then what am I planning on doing? Insisting her and Jack divorce? Splitting up a relationship. And for what? For all I know, they might be head over heels in love, he might be her ‘one’, she might be his ‘one’, and Maddie and him could just have been puppy love.
Oh, bugger. I can’t do that. I just have to be calm. Rational. Supportive but not interfering.
But I still want to yell at her.
‘What about you then, Jane?’ I suddenly realise that Sally is talking to me. ‘What have you been up to since we all left school, quite the little jet setter, aren’t you?’ She says it lightly, with a laugh at the end, but I know it’s a challenge. ‘Didn’t make it as a nuclear physicist then? Rach tells me you’re still taking your little photos.’ How can somebody manage to smile nicely and sneer at the same time? ‘Up the duff? Rich hubby? Oops, no ring, no time to get married?’ I know that is a dig, she just has to know about me and Andy. I hate her.
‘Didn’t you know? She lives with Freddie!’ Squeals Rachel, totally missing the heavy sarcasm.
‘Who?’ Maddie looks blank. Jack was the only boy she ever noticed.
‘You know, Freddie!’ Rachel says it with the conviction that if she repeats his name enough, everybody will remember. ‘There was only one Freddie.’ This is not said in a tone that says he was unique and memorable for his crazy antics, just that nobody else had the same name.
‘Oh, they won’t remember Freddie, it was a massive school, there were lots of—’
‘Oh my God! I know!’ It’s Sal’s turn to squeal now. ‘Oh, fuck, not Freddie!’ Bugger. She does remember. She is wide-eyed. ‘You live with Freddie!’ That is the look of somebody who will dine out on this for weeks. It will be all over Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat. Every inch of cyberspace basically. I can see her fingers twitching to get to her mobile. My subterfuge in Brighton is fucked.
‘I don’t live with him!’
‘That’s why we decided to make it a Brighton weekend, Jane is here with Freddie for a mini-break!’ This is not what I wanted to hear Rachel say.
‘Hang on a minute! It’s not that kind of—’
Sally gives a low whistle. ‘Wow, must be serious, weekend break in Brighton.’ I’m not sure if she’s being sarcastic or not now.
‘It’s not serious, we’re friends and I needed a break, and he was coming here anyway, and—’
‘Do I know Freddie?’ Maddie frowns, interrupting my denial.
‘Yeah, course you do. You know, that tall guy who was friends with Matt! They were in the year above us,’ says Rachel.
They all sigh. Everybody knew Matt, he was the hunky one in a leather jacket. When you are sixteen, a seventeen-year-old poser in a leather jacket is swoon-worthy. Even if he will probably turn out to be a total dick.
Freddie was more the dreamy one in a jumper. Less swoon, more worthy. Not something most teenage girls notice.
Sal cackles. She is really enjoying this. ‘You must remember him, Maddie. The geek! Freddie Flintstone!’ He was called that because of his tatty old car, which belched its way into the school car park every day. ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe it! You can’t seriously mean you hooked up with Freddie? He was such a geek.’ Sally is laughing, and not in a nice way. That girl just has to be so competitive about everything.
‘You should see him now, Sal,’ Rachel chips in, ‘he’s grown into himself. He is hot, seriously.’
‘Really?’ Sal doesn’t sound convinced. ‘Well, why don’t we …?’
‘What?’ I don’t like the sound of that.
‘See him! Call him, get him over here.’ She’s smirking. ‘Or we can all go to wherever you’re staying!’
‘No! He’s busy, he’s doing stuff, boy stuff.’
‘So, he’s still a geek? Don’t tell me …’ she pauses for effect, ready to deliver the punchline, ‘he works with computers or something?’
This is dangerously close to the mark. ‘So what? He just happens to be smart. And he’s lovely, and kind, and funny.’ I don’t want to overdo this, as I don’t want them getting ideas about our relationship (or lack of it), but I do need to defend him. Freddie is nice. Seriously nice. ‘He’s grown up.’ Unlike some people, I could add. Instead, I settle for an evil glare.
‘Aww, that’s so lovely, he was so sweet.’ Maddie has got a dreamy look in her eye. ‘I remember him now. He stopped to give me a lift one day when it was raining, he was so kind.’
See, some people remember the good bits about other people.
‘He is lovely.’ I give Maddie a smile. ‘But hang on, you lot, I live with him, I don’t “live” with him. We’re flatmates.’
‘You really should see him, though! He has changed,’ Rach is on a roll, ignoring my protestations about ‘living with him’. I wish we could get back to talking about weddings, and maybe murdering each other. Much easier. ‘It’s not just that clever sexy vibe, you know, the Jude Law peering over his glasses in The Holiday vibe?’
‘The what?’ I blink at her, momentarily perplexed at where this is going.
‘Ooh, I love a man peering over his glasses looking all professor-ish!’ Rachel fans herself. I can’t imagine Michael ever looking like a professor, but maybe this is her go-to fantasy when she’s at the ‘Help, I’m not quite turned on enough to come quick’ stage. ‘Doesn’t everybody?’ I look round, we’re all shaking our heads. ‘Whatever, anyway it’s not just that, he is seriously hot.’ She’s doing that hand gesture, that can mean I’ve burned my fingertips, or can be rude.
‘No, he’s not!’ I don’t know why I said that. He is hot. And so am I. I’m hot. Red hot, my neck and face are burning. They’re all staring at me. ‘Well, he’s okay, fine … like Mads said, he’s lovely. But there’s nothing going on. We just live together. Flatmates. We are friends.’ I say it in every permutation to make it clear. ‘He has girlfriends, lots of girlfriends, and I have …’ I’m stuck now. ‘I go out with people, men, other men. Me and Tinder, we’re like that.’ I do the cross-fingers thing.
‘Well, if you’re not going to introduce us today, then you’ve got to bring him to the wedding!’ Sal is intrigued, I know she is. If she thinks he’s hot she’ll be all over him (married or not) like a black widow spider, and if she thinks he’s not she’ll be staring smugly at me and mentally awarding herself a win.
‘I can’t. One he’s not invited—’
‘Well, I …’
I interrupt Rachel. ‘And two we don’t do stuff together.’ Often.
‘So, you’re not dating,’ Sal has to point score, ‘anybody? At all?’
‘I’m not. I work all the time, totally unsociable hours. I like being single, it’s, it’s …’ I’m struggling here. ‘Freeing!’ Yes, that’s it. ‘I am free! I can be who I want, do what I want, when I want. I don’t have to watch stuff I don’t want to, I don’t have to put up with burps, farts. I don’t have to shave my legs.’ They’re all staring again. ‘Though, I do, of course.’ Then I remember why we’re here. ‘Not that relationships aren’t great of course, if you’ve got the right man, and you’re happy, and …’ Sally is looking smug. Garhhh! I direct my smile at Rachel. ‘And you’ve found the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. I’m so happy for you Rach, really.’
&n
bsp; ‘So am I!’ Maddie squeezes our hands, so Sal has to jump in and slam hers on top.
‘I’ll drink to that! Marriage is the best!’
Oh, God, here we go again.
Luckily, Maddie is made of sterner stuff than she looks, she downs her glass in one and tops us all up though before speaking.
‘So, where are you holding the wedding? It must be so exciting, planning it all! And your dress, have you picked a dress?’ Maddie necks the second glass – okay, maybe not sterner stuff, but she’s certainly resolved to not let her crap situation mar the evening. I flash her an encouraging smile, surely if Mads can push her personal feelings about this event aside, then so can I.
‘And our dresses! I can’t wait to see ours.’
‘Oh my God, Rach, you have so got to tell us what you’ve already planned. My wedding planner was ace, everything was totally how I wanted it. It was magical.’ Sal is back in the swing of it.
‘Any unicorns?’ I can’t resist.
‘White horses.’ She ignores my snide comment, which is fair enough. ‘We had two … oh but we’re not here to talk about me, are we?’
‘Certainly not! Rach, dresses, tell us!’
‘Well, it’s all been so up in the air, but Michael has been so involved. He’s amazing! Mum wanted me to wear this family heirloom, you know Jane, that dress she showed you photos of,’ she rolls her eyes, ‘lots of times?’
We laugh.
‘But, don’t tell me, you’ve gone with one of those slinky destination dresses like you’ve always wanted? Oh, Rachel, you will look so gorg.’
‘Well, I was tempted, but then Michael’s mum showed me this place she’s been to, a really posh designer boutique.’ She names the street and Sally fans herself dramatically.
‘Oh my God! Yes, you have to get a dress from there.’ Honestly, talk about gushing.
This wasn’t what I was expecting, though. Rachel’s family are loaded, but she’s never gone for flashy stuff.
‘I mean, at first I was all, no, no, but then Michael saw the website as well, and his whole family were kind of saying I should treat myself. You only get married once, don’t you, it’s only one day so Mikey said I deserved the best and I should go for something a bit more special. Me, but still out of this world, if you know what I mean?’
Bridesmaids: The funniest laugh out loud rom com of 2019 – the perfect beach read! Page 8