A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘We’ll see you tomorrow, love.’ Mum gave me a peck on the cheek before she took my face gently in her hands. ‘I’m so happy for you, my darling girl.’ I was sure it was the drink, but we both had swimming eyes as we grinned at each other. ‘You go and have fun, but make sure you have a good night’s sleep. No amount of make-up can hide a hungover bride.’

  With Mum, Linda and Jimmy ensconced in a taxi, the hen night raged on. Erin handed out goody bags, which contained a condom, a travel toothbrush, mini tube of toothpaste and a spare pair of knickers (in case we got lucky, apparently), hen night badges (mine said ‘Badass Bride’), willy-shaped chocolates, a pack of paracetamol (for the morning after) and three envelopes, which we were informed contained dare cards and weren’t to be opened until instructed.

  I held up the knickers from my bag, stretching them between two fingers. ‘What size are these? Barbie?’ They were never going to fit. Not that I needed a spare pair of pants. I’d be tucked up in my own bed that night, thank you very much.

  ‘These are delicious.’ Tori was already chomping away on a chocolate willy. ‘Best cock I’ve ever tasted.’

  I was never drinking with my family again.

  We made our way into town, piling into a club that offered the very best in eighties and nineties music, as well as a free shot on entry. We downed our shots before Erin instructed us to open our first envelope, which was marked Something Old, Something New. Something Borrowed, Something Blue.

  ‘I’m not doing this.’ Quinn held out her dare card and I read it: Kiss someone over 40.

  Erin read the card too and gave a tut. ‘Don’t be so ageist.’

  ‘I’m not being ageist,’ Quinn said. ‘I’m not kissing anyone. I can’t. I’m seeing someone.’

  ‘Who?’ Erin’s eyes widened at the prospect of gossip, but I already knew who it was.

  ‘I don’t want to say. Not yet.’ Quinn stuck out her chin. ‘But I’m not doing this.’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Casey plucked the card from Quinn’s fingers and swapped it with her own – Collect a blue shirt. ‘I’m involved with someone too but kissing on a hen night doesn’t count.’

  A debate ensued, with most people agreeing that it certainly did count as cheating. In the end, Erin decided enough was enough and held up her hands to silence our group.

  ‘Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Casey is happy to do the dare, so let’s get on with it.’

  ‘Actually.’ Trina raised her hand slightly and turned her card to face the group. ‘I can’t do mine either.’

  ‘You can’t kiss someone under twenty?’ Erin asked. ‘Why not? We’re talking eighteen or nineteen here, not twelve.’

  ‘But I’m married.’

  ‘You’re separated!’ Tori cried. ‘Permanently. Get back on the horse and ride it, baby!’

  ‘No.’ Trina folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’m not doing it.’

  Erin sighed before snatching the card and replacing it with her own. ‘Fine. Can you collect a blue sock? Great.’

  My own card wasn’t too bad. I had to somehow collect a blue pen, which seemed doable and wouldn’t compromise my vows before I’d even taken them.

  ‘It’s Theo, isn’t it?’ I asked Quinn while the others were double-checking they were happy with their dares. ‘He’s the one you’re seeing.’ Quinn was about to protest, but there was no point. I held my hand up to stop her from wasting her breath. ‘I’ve caught you at the house with him, twice. Why else would you lie to me about where you are?’

  Quinn opened her mouth before closing it without speaking. She gave a shrug. ‘Fine, then. It’s Theo I’m seeing. I can’t get enough of him. He’s so completely hot.’

  ‘I knew it!’ I wanted to jump into the air, triumphant fist held aloft as I whooped. But I didn’t. There’d been far too much embarrassment already that evening.

  ‘You won’t say anything to anybody, will you?’

  I mimed zipping up my lips, my jubilant grin still in place. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Are we doing these dares or not?’ Erin asked. ‘Whoever carries out theirs last has to get the next round in so go, go, go!’

  Forty-Six

  Ruth

  Ugh. I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep on the eve on my wedding; I thought my mind would be a hive of activity and excitement would be coursing through my veins. But it turned out it was the waking-up bit that was the problem. My head was glued to my pillow, my eyes welded shut, and no matter how much my alarm heralded the start of a brand-new day – my wedding day – they wouldn’t budge. I thought I’d been so careful with my alcohol consumption the night before, and we hadn’t stayed out that long. The dares had turned out to be a bit of a damp squib, with most people coupled up and refusing to cheat – because we all know that kissing is cheating – and I’d wanted to go home before any major damage was done to my well-being. It seemed it was already too late for that. My well-being was trashed.

  Ugh. Reaching out, I fumbled around until my stupid alarm shut up. My eyes remained sealed and my head didn’t move from the pillow. I would stay here for another five minutes and then I would force myself from the covers and into the shower, where I would emerge refreshed and suitably human. Hopefully. I crossed my fingers and fell back to sleep.

  ‘Ruth?’ There was a soft knock at the door. It must have been only twenty seconds since I’d drifted off. ‘Ruth?’ Another knock, slightly louder this time. ‘Ruth, I know you’re awake. You’re not snoring.’

  ‘Hey!’ My eyes flew open. It hurt. A lot. ‘I do not snore.’

  The door opened a crack and Quinn’s face peeped into the room. ‘You do. Very loudly. I thought we must be on the flight path for Manchester Airport at first, then I realised it was you.’ The door opened fully and Quinn skipped into the room. ‘Come on, sleepy. It’s time to get up.’

  I covered my face with my hands and groaned. I’d only managed to see Quinn through blurry eyes but even then she looked like she’d just awoken from a restful eighteen-hour sleep. Her eyes were bright, and her face didn’t have the greyish hue I was sure my own did. There was clearly some sort of witchcraft occurring.

  ‘Do I really have to get up?’

  ‘Yes.’ Quinn laughed and tugged at my covers. She was lucky I was wearing pyjamas. I patted myself down. Yes, I was definitely wearing pyjamas. ‘You’re getting married in a few hours, so come on!’

  I thought of Jared, looking handsome – no, hot – in his suit, waiting for me at the altar, and the image was enough to put a tiny spring into my step. Enough to help me out of bed and into the bathroom, at least.

  ‘Have you heard from Erin?’ I asked when I emerged from the shower, encased in my fluffy pink robe. Quinn had stayed over on the sofa but Erin had met up with Richard after the stag night. It seemed they couldn’t be parted for a single night and, once I’d enjoyed my wedding, I would rib her about that relentlessly. The minx was finally, truly, tamed.

  ‘She’s on her way.’ Quinn led me into the sitting room with a flourish. She’d pulled out the foldaway table and covered it with pastries, fruit and yogurt. ‘I popped down to the shop while you were in the shower.’

  Oh, sod it. I wouldn’t even bother pretending to be too excited to eat. I dived right in. ‘I’m really getting married today, aren’t I?’

  Quinn grinned at me and I grinned right back, not caring that we looked like a couple of gormless tits. ‘You are. In a few hours you will be Mrs Williams. You’re so lucky.’ Quinn gave a little sigh and sank onto one of the foldaway dining chairs. ‘I can’t wait to get married.’

  ‘You’ll be waiting a long time if you keep hanging around Theo.’ I helped myself to a mini Danish pastry. Delicious. ‘I don’t think he’ll be settling down any time soon.’

  ‘What? Oh, yeah. No, I don’t expect to marry Theo.’ Quinn jumped out of her seat and headed for the kitchen. ‘I almost forgot.’ She returned brandishing a bottle of champagne and a carton of fresh orange juice. ‘We have to start the day wit
h a Buck’s Fizz. It’s the law or something.’

  Then the intercom buzzed as Quinn was pouring the drinks, so I let Erin into the flat. She arrived looking flawlessly beautiful, practically glowing. Witchcraft, I tell you.

  The flat was soon in chaos as we flew into action. Quinn turned on the stereo, which blasted out a cheery medley of S Club 7 as we flew from room to room, pausing only to sip our drinks (hair of the dog, and all that). I was about to start drying my hair when the intercom buzzed again.

  ‘Looks like I’m just in time.’ Aidan appeared in my bedroom doorway, a case of hair-stylist goodies in his hand.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I looked down at my cheap supermarket hairdryer and attempted to hide it. I nudged it with my elbow until it plopped over the side of the dressing table, landing with a not-so-subtle plastic-meets-carpet thud.

  Aidan, bless him, chose to ignore my blunder.

  ‘I’m here to do your hair.’ He strode into the room and began running his expert fingers through my damp curls. ‘Trina sent me. I’m your gift, apparently. Sent here to say thank you for all your help.’

  ‘So you’ve seen Trina?’ That must have been some fast work. I’d only seen her a few hours earlier, climbing into a taxi with Tori and the purple vibrator, which was being waved in the air like a glow stick at a rave.

  ‘Not for a few days, no.’ Aidan flashed a sheepish smile as he unplugged my crappy hairdryer and replaced it with his own high-end model. ‘She sent me a text last night. It’s the most contact I’ve had with her for days.’

  ‘She’s confused, that’s all. She’s got a lot on her mind.’

  ‘I know, but I miss her. This is why I kept my feelings to myself, so that I didn’t ruin our friendship. I’ve done that anyway now. I should have kept my mouth shut.’

  ‘You haven’t ruined your friendship, I’m sure.’

  ‘I hope not.’ Aidan pulled a wide-toothed comb out of his case and began running it through my hair. ‘So, what are we thinking?’

  The hairdryer drowned out the music from the sitting room, but I sang along anyway. There was something soothing about having somebody else tend to my hair. I suppose it reminded me of being a child and having my hair brushed before school. Although Aidan didn’t tug quite as hard as Mum and he didn’t threaten to cut it all off with the kitchen scissors if I didn’t sit still. Aidan kindly offered to do the bridesmaids’ hair too, and was almost finished with Erin’s when Dad arrived with Riley, Jimmy and our flowers. The rest, he assured me, had been delivered to the church.

  Everyone changed and had their hair and make-up done. The bridesmaids each held a single gerbera – pink for Quinn, red for Erin, orange for Jimmy and yellow for Riley – while I had a hand-tied posy made up of all four shades, creating a rainbow of colour.

  ‘Ruthie, love.’ Dad held his arms out as I emerged from my bedroom in my dress. ‘You look wonderful, you really do. I’m ever so proud.’ He pulled me into a tight hug before he released me, holding me out at arm’s length. ‘Go on, give us a twirl.’

  I did as I was told, spinning on the spot and receiving a child-like thrill as the skirt lifted. The dress was just as I’d imagined, resting just below the knee on a bed of netted skirts to give it proper twirlability. The polka-dotted organza overlaying the ivory silk gave my dress the fun feel I’d been aiming for, and was finished off perfectly with the sunshine-yellow polka-dot sash around the waist. Aidan had styled my hair in soft curls that were held off my face with a matching polka-dot ribbon, tied with an elaborate bow to the side. I felt like a fifties starlet.

  ‘Let me get a photo of you all, then.’ Dad pulled out his camera and lined us up. I’d told everyone about the photographer (who will be forever known in my family as ‘the cruel bitch who tried to ruin my big day’), so Dad, Erin and Quinn had been busily snapping away throughout the morning, chronicling the getting-ready stage of the wedding, which I thought was a nice touch and not something that would have been archived by Sadie, who had planned to meet us at the church.

  Finally, it was time and Freya arrived, leading us down to her car, which she’d decorated with ribbon.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think it looks wonderfully tacky. Thank you!’ I felt my eyes brimming with tears, something I’d noticed occurring more and more as the day wore on. First it had been Dad’s arrival, looking smart in his suit, then it had been seeing little Riley (who wasn’t so little any more) wearing her dress, and then I’d almost burst into floods of tears at the sight of my bouquet. It was so perfect. So me. And then I’d put my dress on and there was no stopping the tears. I’d allowed myself a little cry before I mopped up the tears and Quinn redid my make-up.

  ‘I think it’s time, love.’ Dad went to open the car door but Freya leaped into action, tipping an imaginary cap as we climbed inside. Dad and I travelled with Freya while Quinn drove the others to the church. I didn’t think I’d be so nervous, but I was actually shaking as I climbed out of the car. It was handy having Freya there to open the door – she was taking her role as chauffeur very seriously – as I didn’t think my jittery fingers would have managed.

  ‘I’ll just go and find somewhere to park and then I’ll see you in there.’ Freya gave me a kiss on the cheek before she darted back to the car. I looked across to the church. Jared was in there, I thought with excitement, waiting to become my husband.

  We arranged ourselves outside the church’s heavy double doors, Dad and I at the front, our arms linked, followed by Riley and Jimmy and then Erin and Quinn. This was it. I was going to marry Jared.

  ‘You look beautiful, love,’ Dad whispered as we waited for our cue. Suddenly the doors opened, bringing the sound of the organ loud and clear. ‘Ready?’

  My life was about to change. Once I stepped through those doors, I would no longer be Ruth Lynch. I would be Ruth Williams, Jared’s wife. We would be united in front of our combined families and friends forever.

  I couldn’t wait.

  Forty-Seven

  Erin

  Ruth and Louie made their way slowly down the aisle towards Jared, the bridesmaids following them. There were rustles and creaks as the congregation turned to get a glimpse of the bride, followed by beaming smiles and the odd watery eye.

  Quinn leaned in towards Erin to whisper, ‘You can’t honestly tell me you don’t want this. Imagine it was Richard down there. How would that make you feel?’

  ‘Pissed off. Why is he marrying my best friend? Cheating bastard.’

  Quinn’s eyes widened. She eyed the congregation for signs that anyone had overheard. ‘You can’t say that in church.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘That.’ Quinn had another furtive glance. ‘Bastard.’

  ‘You just said it too!’ Erin and Quinn bit their lips to stop themselves from giggling. ‘Enough now. Be serious.’

  Ruth and Louie reached the altar, and the bridesmaids took their places to the side of the bride.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Erin heard Jared whisper.

  ‘You look hot. I can’t wait to get you out of that suit.’

  So Erin and Quinn weren’t the only ones misbehaving in church.

  ‘You’ll have to marry me first,’ Jared said and that is exactly what they did. The ceremony went smoothly with beautiful, inspiring hymns, and a few laughs courtesy of Father Edmund. Jared and Ruth exchanged their vows in front of their loved ones, emerging from the church united by law. The congregation had been told about the lack of photographer – although Theo’s involvement was omitted – so they busily snapped away with their cameras and phones in the churchyard afterwards, with Father Edmund volunteering to act as group photographer so everyone could get in the shot.

  ‘Right, that’s enough.’ Ruth indicated that everybody should put their photo equipment away. ‘This isn’t going to be one of those weddings where we stand around for days, posing like a bunch of knobs. Come on, let’s go and have some fun!’

  With the photos taken care
of, Ruth and Jared, and their closest friends and family, made their way to Cosmo’s, which had been transformed for the event. The tables were laid with pale pink tablecloths with beautiful rainbow gerbera displays as centrepieces and the sweet box favours Ruth and Jared had made marking each place. Room had been made in the corner for the karaoke later and a space was dedicated for dancing. A rainbow of balloons adorned the room and a row of tables, covered with the same pale pink tablecloths, lined the back wall of the room. Later, in time for the evening guests, a buffet would be laid out on them. In the centre, grabbing Ruth’s attention immediately, was Jared’s surprise.

  ‘What do you think?’ Jared led Ruth to the centre table which was framed by two thick red-and-white-striped columns supporting a pitched wooden roof with rainbow bunting strung between them. The words ‘Sweet Buffet’ had been appliqued to the front of the tablecloth, and the table was covered with colourful jars of sweets, a rainbow of macarons, fondant fancies and mini cupcakes as well as trays of fruit with chocolate dipping sauce and heart-shaped biscuits iced with Ruth and Jared’s initials. Taking centre stage was the three-tier cake Linda had made: a Victoria sponge, a lemon drizzle and an orange sponge.

  ‘I think we should forget about the three-course meal Cosmo has lovingly prepared and dive into this instead.’ Ruth threw her arms around Jared, planting a smacker on his lips. ‘It’s perfect. Who did it all?’ Ruth placed a hand on Jared’s chest. ‘I love you, you know that, but you’re no baker.’

  ‘My dad and Louie built the structure and Mum and Vee took care of the sewing and baking.’

  ‘Wow. It’s amazing.’ Ruth took Jared’s hands in hers. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.’

  ‘I know I haven’t been.’ Jared kissed Ruth, which caused a racket of wolf-whistles and jeering from the room.

  ‘Hey, you two. Leave that for tonight, yeah?’ Erin winked at the couple. She was so pleased for her best friend. Nobody deserved happiness more than Ruth.