I wait patiently to find out what I have said or done that is so horrible while my mum and gran fuss around my sister, drying her eyes and rubbing her shoulders.
‘She… she… she put my veil on me,’ Belle sobs.
My mum and gran both stare at me.
‘I did,’ I reply timidly. I was only trying to help her out, did she want to do it herself or something?
‘Oh, Mia, how could you?’ my gran cries.
‘It’s because she knows she’s never going to be a bride because I made her my bridesmaid and she wants to take it out on me by ruining my wedding and my marriage and my life,’ my sister sobs without pausing for breath – and at such a speed that I’m still not sure what she’s talking about.
‘Can someone who doesn’t need to blow their nose explain the problem to me,’ I ask, annoyed that I’m being made out to be some kind of wedding-ruiner.
‘It’s bad luck for a bride to wear her entire outfit before the big day,’ my mum explains.
‘And you put my veil on me,’ Belle sobs. ‘It tempts fate.’
‘Oh! Shit, Belle, I’m sorry.’
I had forgotten about her silly wedding superstitions, but surely she realises I was only trying to help her, and they are only silly superstitions after all, nothing is done and dusted.
‘So what do we do?’ I ask. ‘Walk backwards? Throw some salt around?’
‘Mia,’ Mum snaps. ‘Take this seriously.’
I thought I was.
‘Ask her to leave,’ Belle sobs.
‘Mia–’ my mum starts, but I cut her off.
‘I can hear her! It’s fine, I’ll go.’
As I walk towards the door my uncle comes charging in with more garment bags.
‘Sorry,’ he says breathlessly, ‘I couldn’t get rid of the delivery man. Did I miss anything?’
Belle stops crying and for a moment everyone stares at him, wondering what he means.
‘I mean, did I forget anything? Or is this it?’ he backtracks.
‘No, this is all of it,’ Belle sobs.
‘Are you not trying something on?’ my uncle asks me quietly as I walk past him.
‘At this rate, I’m thinking a noose around my neck,’ I reply.
Chapter 11
Today, I am officially persona non grata. With my sister crying hysterically in my bedroom, and nowhere else in the house for me to go without being treated like a turd in a swimming pool, I have ventured outside for a walk on the beach. The only problem is that because I was thrown out of my bedroom, I couldn’t get any shoes to put on – not much of a problem walking on the beach, but I’m fairly sure my little nightdress is not an ideal outfit for taking a stroll. What choice do I have, though? I’m not allowed in my room, my auntie doesn’t want me going anywhere near the kids, none of Dan’s family or friends want anything to do with me and if I stayed in the house Uncle Sleaze would only stalk me from room to room, drooling.
So, a walk alone on the beach it is. It’s a lovely day today – nice and warm luckily, and the sun is shining bright in the sky. If I wasn’t so unprepared I could have kicked back here and done some work, or just topped up my LA tan that is fading by the day.
As I walk I think about my sister and why she is upset. I do feel badly about what happened today but I didn’t intend to upset her or jinx her or whatever she seems to think I had in mind when I put that veil on her head. If Belle wasn’t upset about this she would still be banging on about me giving Dan a bad back, or upsetting the family by teaching the kids inappropriate language. There must be a bigger issue deep down somewhere because what I see as silly little mistakes my sister sees as me being on a one-woman quest to ruin her wedding.
‘Hello again,’ a strong Australian accent snaps me from my thoughts.
I turn around to see a big, buff blonde dude walking out of the sea, not unlike that scene in Casino Royale where Daniel Craig emerges from the water in his little blue trunks. A soaking wet golden retriever with a tennis ball in its mouth follows him closely.
I glance behind me to see if he’s talking to someone else – certain I have never met this man before in my life – but there’s no one there.
‘Hi,’ I say cautiously.
‘How are you?’ he asks, flashing me his perfectly white teeth as he smiles. I may not have a clue who he is, but he’s gorgeous.
‘I’m OK. You?’
‘I’m great… you don’t remember me, do you?’
I shake my head. This man is convinced he knows me but this is the first time I have left the house since I got here and I don’t know when or where else we could have possibly met.
‘We’ve met?’
‘Yes,’ he says confidently. ‘You’re from the big house.’
The handsome Aussie points towards the beach house behind me.
I stare at him thoughtfully as I run my hand through my hair and rack my brains but I still don’t have any idea who he is.
The handsome Aussie laughs.
‘A couple of days ago you asked me for the time. From your balcony,’ he laughs.
‘Oh! That was you?’ I ask. ‘Were you Australian then, too?’
I don’t remember that man being so handsome or having an accent of note, then again I had just woken up and I had a lot on my mind.
‘No, this is just something I’m trying out today to pull chicks,’ he jokes. ‘Yes, of course I was Australian then.’
‘Well, you never know,’ I tease. ‘After all, it says “lifeguard” on your shorts, doesn’t mean you are one.’
‘So you’re looking at my shorts, huh?’ he replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows. ‘I am a genuine lifeguard though. Genuine Australian, genuine lifeguard.’
‘Oh. Sorry,’ I giggle awkwardly.
‘At least I’m wearing shorts,’ he teases, nodding towards my outfit.
‘It’s a long story.’ I sigh. ‘Sometimes I wear clothes.’
‘Only sometimes, huh?’
At this stage in our flirting his dog grows tired of waiting and drops the ball at his master’s feet. Just in case he doesn’t take the hint, the dog barks.
‘Just a second, Jay,’ the man says to his dog. ‘Well, maybe next time you have clothes on if you want to–’
Jay barks again impatiently, quashing any chance the lifeguard had of being smooth.
‘I work just down the beach, there’s a café there. I’ll buy you a–’
Jay barks again, only louder and more aggressively this time. I can’t believe I’m getting cockblocked by a dog.
‘I’ll leave you boys to play fetch,’ I tell him as I wander off.
‘Wait,’ the sexy lifeguard calls after me. ‘I don’t even know your name.’
I shrug my shoulders.
‘If you tell me yours I’ll tell you mine,’ he jokes, but he’s starting to sound the tiniest little bit desperate now.
‘You’ll figure it out,’ I call back.
As I stroll back to towards the house it seems like my luck might be changing. A sexy new friend will certainly make my stay here a lot more fun.
When I set out for my walk I didn’t think for a moment that a hot, Australian lifeguard was going to emerge from the sea. One thing is for sure though, I won’t be throwing this fish back just yet.
***
‘Hello,’ I say nervously as I walk into my bedroom, worried Bridezilla might be waiting for me so that she can bite my head off.
I spy Belle sitting on the floor. She seems a lot calmer now, and is unwrapping more clothes.
‘Belle, I’m really sorry about before,’ I tell her sincerely. ‘I didn’t know about that superstition, or I would have never done that. I thought I was helping.’
‘It’s OK,’ my sister says calmly. ‘You weren’t to know, you’re not wedding minded.’
I don’t know what “wedding minded” is but I imagine it’s something my mother told her I was not, so that she would forgive me for my faux pas.
‘Well, if you still want me
to try my dress on, I may as well do it now before I get dressed.’
‘OK.’ My sister jumps to her feet excitedly and unzips one of the garment bags. ‘Ta-da,’ she sings as she holds my dress up in front of me.
Not unlike my sister’s dress, my bridesmaid dress is also a strapless tutu dress, only mine is in bright orange. Without saying a word I slip off my nightdress and step into the dress before my sister zips it up for me.
‘Do you love it?’ she asks as I step in front of the mirror. My God, it’s disgusting. I would never accuse my sister of intentionally making me look bad so that she looked better… but… no, on second thoughts, I would totally accuse he of that.
‘I look like something from Toddlers & Tiaras,’ I say blankly.
‘That reminds me,’ Belle chirps excitedly as she rummages around in a box before presenting me with a sparkly, gold tiara. ‘There you go.’
I obligingly pop the tiara on top of my head and it takes all my strength not to laugh or cry, because this is what I am going to have to wear on her wedding day – her wedding day where people will be taking photographs that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
‘How come the other dresses are coral and mine is bright orange?’ I ask my sister as I watch her take out the other bridesmaids’ dresses, which are equally as tacky but a much nicer shade.
‘Because you’re chief bridesmaid,’ she says brightly. ‘Yours is special, just for you.’
Bullshit. She’s made mine extra disgusting on purpose, just to piss me off. Why would she get me an orange dress? No one likes or suits orange. Even oranges don’t suit orange, it’s a horrible colour.
I am just about to say something I will regret when I notice my sister is on the verge of another meltdown.
‘Oh God, what now?’ I ask.
‘The men’s trousers, they’re not shortened,’ she explains. ‘They need to be shortened so they don’t get covered in sand.’
‘Well, can’t they just roll them up?’
‘Mia, don’t be stupid,’ my sister snaps. ‘They were supposed to be shortened. The theme is casual formal. Short trousers, untucked shirts and unfastened bowties, that’s what I wanted. This is your fault.’
‘Go on then, how is this my fault?’ I ask angrily, interested to know how I could have had anything to do with this problem.
‘When you put that veil on my head you sealed my fate. My wedding is ruined. The trousers are wrong, Dan is injured–’
I cut my sister’s sentence short by slapping her across the face. Not too hard, but hard enough to stop her hyperventilating and to get her attention.
‘And you slapped me across the face,’ she yells, adding yet another thing to the list.
‘Because you’re being hysterical,’ I explain. ‘Listen to me. Dan got hurt days ago, and the trousers were already wrong before I put the veil on your head. They were already in the room and they were already wrong. The karma fairy didn’t sneak in and lengthen the trousers just to ruin your wedding, I promise.’
Belle takes deep breaths, puffing her cheeks out as she exhales.
‘OK,’ she says calmly.
‘This is what we’ll do. You and I can pop into town and find a tailor, and they can make the changes to the length, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘And I’ll even buy you an ice cream or something,’ I tell her, because I’ve just heard about this café on the beach, not too far from where the hottest lifeguard works…
Chapter 12
Shell’s Café is the cutest little café I have ever seen, and Shell herself is a lovely lady. From the moment Belle and I arrived she has treated us like royalty – she even offered us cupcakes on the house, but as delicious as they looked with their piped-on pink buttercream, chocolate sprinkles and dash of glitter, I had to say no. Belle, who actually bakes cakes for a living, didn’t hesitate in saying yes to one of the delicious looking cakes.
‘This is lovely,’ Belle announces after she takes her first bite. When it comes to cakes Belle is somewhat of a snob, so it says a lot about Shell’s cakes that my sister is praising them.
Growing up it was a shared love of baking that brought my sister and me together on those rare occasions we could actually tolerate spending time together. Whenever it was a family member’s birthday we would team up and bake them a cake or some cupcakes, and we were actually quite good at it. Sure we’d argue the entire time but we actually made a pretty good team. As we got older we kept up the tradition but we would complain even louder each time about having to spend time together (although, if I’m being honest, it felt kind of nice to spend time together – well, maybe not nice, but it certainly felt more normal than hating each other) until one day we just decided to stop. As I grew older I started distancing myself from things like butter and sugar, but my sister went on to make a career out of it, working for a cupcake café back in Canterbury.
‘Well, I’m glad you like it,’ Shell says brightly before turning to me and opening her mouth, but my sister starts talking before Shell has a chance to say anything else.
‘Dan, my fiancé, said that there was no way he was going to let me make my own wedding cake, even though I offered, so he arranged a surprise cake for me. I told him I like the ones from Le Papillon bakery in Paris, you know the one from that TV show with the amazing cakes? So he’s ordered me one from there!’
‘That’s nice,’ Shell replies politely. ‘Mia, I want to hear more about your movies.’
‘What do you want to know?’ I ask, aware of the evil looks my sister is shooting me for hogging the attention. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose, is it? After all, it was Belle who brought up working in a bakery that prompted Shell to ask me what I did for a living.
‘Do you have anything in the cinema at the moment?’ she asks excitedly. ‘I love to go to the cinema.’
‘I do, it’s a wedding film actually.’ One of my many wedding films, which is hilarious considering I hate weddings. ‘It’s called For Better, For Worse.’
Shell, who is probably in her forties but seems to love the colour pink almost as much as I do, squeaks like an excited teenage girl.
‘I saw the trailer for that, it looks so good. Are you working on anything at the moment, my love?’
‘I am, but we’re in the very early stages.’
‘You should set a scene here,’ Shell suggests. With the cream walls, pretty pink cushions and curtains and the doll house-esque furniture – not to mention the fact it is situated overlooking the sea – Shell’s Café would actually make a pretty good setting for a romcom… not that I’ll be setting any movies in Cornwall any time soon.
‘Definitely,’ I lie.
Whenever the door opens a little bell rings to alert Shell that customers have arrived, and as I hear the familiar tinkle again my eyes dart towards the door and then back to looking at my sister.
Shell excuses herself so that she can go and serve her customers.
‘Wow, it really is The Mia Show and we’re all just guest stars in it,’ Belle says, unimpressed.
‘I can’t help it if people want to know about my job.’
I hear the tinkle again and I feel my eyes pulled in the direction of the door – it’s an elderly couple.
‘Just like you can’t help looking at the door – don’t think I haven’t noticed. Who are you looking for?’ my sister asks.
Before I have a chance to make something up the door tinkles again. This time we both look, and this time it’s my fit lifeguard who walks inside.
As soon as he sees me he waves and heads towards us.
‘Suddenly it’s all so clear,’ my sister sighs.
As he approaches our table in nothing but a pair of red shorts I notice my sister look him up and down.
‘And now it’s clearer,’ she adds.
‘Hello girls,’ the fit lifeguard says in that gorgeous Australian accent of his.
‘Oh, and now it’s crystal clear,’ my sister says, much to his confusion.
r /> My sister knows all about my love ‘em and leave ‘em attitude when it comes to men – and it’s much to her disgust. My sister is a proper romantic and she finds my approach to dating positively revolting. Belle just doesn’t understand that even though marriage and babies are what she wants from life, for me it’s all about having fun and never getting too serious with anyone. For Belle marriage is a commitment, for me it’s a death sentence – neither of us is wrong, it’s just that different people want different things from life. I’m not sure why I don’t subscribe to the usual path, because when I was younger I wasn’t against the idea. I suppose that’s what years of boys rejecting you for being fat does to you – each time it happens you lose a little faith. The tables have certainly turned now, and while I’m happy to interact with attractive members of the opposite sex, I don’t want much of a relationship with them – just like they didn’t with me. I’m sure a therapist could have a field day with that.
‘Hello again,’ I say.
‘Hi,’ the fittie replies coolly.
‘This is my sister, Belle. The one I was telling you about,’ I lie, to try and score myself some brownie points with my sis. ‘The one who is getting married.’
‘Congratulations,’ he says, rubbing my sister’s shoulder. Belle, who may not be into flings, is still temporarily disarmed by a little attention from this hot guy.
‘Usual is it, Chris?’ Shell calls over.
‘Please,’ he calls back.
‘So, Chris,’ I say, showing off the fact that I know his name now, ‘how is work?’
‘Work is slow,’ he replies, ‘but that’s a good thing in this game.’
I smile and nod as he waits expectantly for me to tell him my name but I’m not giving it up that easily.
‘What’s with the tennis ball?’ my sister asks, breaking the silence as she clocks the ball in Chris’s hand.
‘It’s my dog’s,’ Chris explains. ‘He loves balls.’
‘Your dog and I have that in common,’ I joke.
‘Oh my God.’ My sister looks mortified. ‘Mia, I’m going to wait outside.’
We wait in silence as Belle leaves the café. Once she’s outside, Chris sits down at the table opposite me.
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