How Not to be a Bride

by Portia MacIntosh

  The beach house is just as beautiful as I remember it: brilliant-white walls, contemporary architecture, with big windows, multiple balconies and an entire beach for a back garden. Thanks to our detour to Boots, judging by all the cars parked on the driveway, I’d say we were the last ones to arrive.

  ‘Of course we’re late,’ I laugh to myself.

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ Leo assures me, trapping me in a bear hug before lifting me up off the floor and spinning around a few times. He always knows how to make me feel better. ‘Come on, let’s go inside.’

  I take a moment to glance around the garden. It really is such a beautiful summer’s day. The house sits right on the beachfront and, right now, all I want to do is take a walk along the coast. Unfortunately, I’ve got a family inside waiting for me – probably an angry family, because even though I am consistently late, they’re always surprised and offended by it.

  ‘Hello,’ I call out as we walk through the large front door. ‘Anyone home?’

  My voice echoes through the large living room.

  ‘Mia!’ my sister squeaks as she charges towards me, seemingly from out of nowhere.

  ‘Hello,’ I reply, unable to muster up my sister’s level of enthusiasm. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Amazing,’ she replies. ‘We were just about to eat without you. Come on.’

  Belle grabs me by the wrist, ready to drag me along, sort of like the way an excited child would drag you downstairs on Christmas morning.

  ‘Who’s here?’ I ask, wiggling free of her grasp.

  My sister greets Leo with a kiss on each cheek and a lingering hug before turning her attention back to me.

  ‘Me, Dan, Mum, Dad, Mike and Rosie, Gran – Granddad wasn’t feeling up to it. That’s everyone. We thought we’d keep it at close family only, so parents, siblings and their significant others,’ Belle explains.

  ‘Cool,’ I reply, a little too unenthusiastically for my sister’s liking. Belle pulls a face.

  ‘I’ve put you two in your old room, the one you shared back when you met,’ she beams. ‘My gosh, doesn’t it feel like a long time ago?’

  ‘It does and it doesn’t,’ Leo replies with a smile. ‘I mean, sometimes it feels like we met just yesterday, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.’

  As I watch my sister visibly melt, I wonder how I’ll clean her off the floor. To be fair, even though I’m not really a mushy person, even I thought that was pretty sweet. Leo is always saying cute little things, reminding me how much he loves me – it’s nice.

  ‘Right, dinner,’ Belle says with a clap of her hands. ‘This way.’

  The dining room is just as we left it, right down to the large, carbohydrate-heavy meal on the table. The only difference this time is that there are fewer of us, so I don’t have to sit at the kids’ table.

  ‘Hello, Mia,’ my mum says. Her words aren’t delivered with the kind of warmth you’d expect from a mother speaking to her firstborn. It feels more like they’re uttered out of a combination of obligation and manners. ‘Hello, Leo.’

  A nice, frosty Harrison family reception, just as I expected. When I made the decision to give up life in LA and move back to Kent, it felt like an opportunity to reconnect with the family I’d spent four years avoiding. Instead, I still avoid them, only now it’s much harder because I only live down the road. Leo and I stop by for Sunday dinner every now and then, and then there are obligatory family gatherings like this one. Leo lives for family life so he loves visiting our families, but for me it’s something I endure as best I can. Today, being back here at this beach house where so much went on is really going to test my endurance.

  We all exchange pleasantries before Leo and I take our seats at the table.

  ‘So, what are we having?’ Leo asks excitedly, rubbing his hands.

  ‘Pasta with meatballs,’ Belle announces – probably an attempt to appeal to Leo’s Italian side and it works. He sits down and grabs a plate, serving himself a generous portion.

  I take a seat and serve myself a smaller helping. Mia from four years ago wouldn’t have touched a dish so high in carbs, but Mia from four years ago had abs you could crack a tooth on – things change.

  ‘We were just talking about how quickly these four years have gone by,’ my mum says, filling us in.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose they have,’ I reply. Sometimes it feels like much longer, though.

  ‘It was a great wedding,’ Mike, Dan’s brother, pipes up. ‘It’s a shame you missed it,’ he tells his fiancée, Rosie, who smiles sweetly.

  ‘It’s a miracle it even happened at all,’ Belle says.

  ‘How so?’ Rosie asks curiously.

  ‘Oh, just, you know, wedding stuff,’ Belle backtracks. Well, we did say we’d never talk about it again.

  It’s fair to say that, even though Belle’s wedding turned out great in the end, things were a little bit disastrous. I feel like she still holds me responsible for a lot of what happened, which is probably why my relationship with my sister isn’t great.

  In fact, it would be fair to say that my relationship with my entire family isn’t great. Moving back here was the best decision I’ve ever made, because I have Leo now, but I still feel like an outcast sometimes. Perhaps it’s because I lived away from them for so many years, but as hard as I try to fit in, they still make me feel like a bit of an imposter sometimes. They don’t treat me like a black sheep, they treat me like a wolf.

  My mum and dad, a middle-class couple in their early sixties, are exactly the kind of people you’d expect them to be. They’re so serious and stuffy – just like my grandparents before them, so I have no doubt my sister will end up a similar way. I’ve always tried so hard to be like anything but the kind of people who raised me, because, for such a tight-knit family, I feel like there’s a real emotional disconnect among us.

  I’ve always struggled to remember life before my sister, Annabelle, came along. Beautiful, bouncing baby Belle, who burst onto the scene and immediately became the centre of attention. My only real memory of life before Belle was the night she was born. It was New Year’s Eve and we were all at a party when my mum’s waters broke sometime during the run-up to midnight. Belle was not only born quickly and relatively easily, but she was the first baby born after midnight, which saw her and my mum’s pictures plastered all over the local newspaper. I, on the other hand, came into the world after putting my mum through a gruelling three days of labour, so my mum rarely talks fondly about the day I was born, whereas she has a framed photo of her newspaper front cover with baby Belle on the wall in her living room.

  I was five years old when Belle was born, so I don’t really remember being anything but second best. I feel like I was the starter child my parents practised on before Belle came along.

  I think my mum gets her coldness from my gran – my Auntie June, my mum’s sister, is similar – so I can’t really blame her if that’s the kind of women she’s grown up around. My granddad, on the other hand, is a wonderful man who absolutely worships me. It doesn’t matter whether or not I’m in the right or the wrong, he is always on my side, always ready with a funny comment to cheer me up or a piece of helpful advice to help me sort my problems out. I actually really missed him while I was living in LA so I make sure to spend lots of time with him now.

  ‘It won’t be long before you two tie the knot, will it?’ Belle says to Mike and Rosie excitedly. I’ve never understood people’s hype for other people’s weddings, although I suspect she’s just trying to change the subject.

  ‘Just a few months to go,’ Rosie replies.

  I first met Mike, Dan’s brother, four years ago in the run-up to the wedding. We had a lot in common back then; Mike was 30, with no interest in marriage, and had a job his family didn’t approve of. He was the Mia of his family, the let-down, the child who never quite lived up to his parents’ expectations. Sure, he was happy working in a video-game shop, just like I was happy writing movies in LA, but our parents didn’t think
we should be doing what we loved. They thought we should be getting married and starting families. It’s interesting to see how we’ve both changed. Maybe everyone does eventually.

  ‘Are you excited?’ Belle asks.

  ‘So excited,’ Rosie replies. ‘All the plans are in place now, it’s just a matter of waiting. And the stag and hen parties are next week!’

  Rosie squeals with excitement for a few seconds but then stops suddenly – I imagine it’s because she’s just remembered she hasn’t invited me.

  ‘Sorry for not inviting you,’ she says to me. ‘It’s just with your work and stuff, I didn’t think you’d be able to make it.’

  ‘You know I work from home, right?’ I reply.

  ‘Well, yeah, but I figured that meant you’re, like, always busy, busy, busy,’ she babbles with an awkward laugh.

  I don’t care, to be honest. It’s not like we’re close and I can’t think of anything worse than going on a hen party with a bunch of sickly wedding types.

  ‘We’ll take you lots of pictures,’ my mum says kindly. I love that she’s invited my mum but not me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I reply.

  ‘Yeah and, er, Leo, buddy…’ Mike starts.

  ‘I’m working,’ Leo replies quickly.

  ‘You don’t even know when it is, mate,’ Dan replies.

  Leo and Mike have never really liked each other. It’s a family wedding, so there was never any question whether or not Leo would go with me, but I can understand why he doesn’t want to attend the stag do. Still, it’s a relief to me, because if there’s one thing that fills me with dread, it’s stag dos. Mike is going to Magaluf for the weekend with his mates and, as much as I trust Leo as an individual male, I don’t trust gangs of lads, full of alcohol, the air around them thick with peer pressure, in stag mode – especially somewhere like Magaluf. Everyone knows that, in places like that, the drinks are cheap, the sex comes easy, and doesn’t everyone (rightly or wrongly) believe they can get away with things if no one is ever going to find out? Trusting Leo has never been an issue, but I’m not sure anyone would be comfortable with their significant other being in that situation, would they? I might be over my commitment phobia, but I still don’t think the course of true love runs easy. My sister thinks she’s married and it’s going to be rainbows and butterflies for the rest of her loved-up life, but I think marriage is work. I think people make mistakes. You don’t just have a happy relationship by picking the right person. You both have to do all the right things, every day, to make sure you’re both happy.

  ‘I take all the overtime I can get,’ Leo replies, ever the tactful diplomat. ‘Houses are expensive.’

  ‘Especially rundown ones like yours,’ Belle laughs.

  I frown. Only I’m allowed to slag off my house.

  My mum touches her grey, Nurse Ratched-style bob, which she’s been rocking for as long as I can remember, and which makes her look a lot older than she is, awkwardly. You can tell this conversation is making her uncomfortable.

  ‘So, plans for tomorrow. Your morning is yours, but I’m making lunch and I expect you all to be there,’ my mum informs the room, putting a stop to our sibling bickering before it can truly get started. She holds her gaze on me for an extra few seconds.

  ‘Sir, yes, sir,’ I joke.

  My mother rolls her eyes.

  ‘Clean plates all round, that what I like to see,’ Belle announces, making a move to clear the table.

  ‘I’m pretty tired,’ I say. ‘I might go for a lie-down.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll come with you,’ Leo adds.

  ‘Oi oi,’ Mike chimes in. Everyone at the table shoots him a look.

  ‘OK,’ my mum replies. ‘Remember: lunch tomorrow.’

  I nod. It’s a classic Judith Harrison move to just demand we all be present for lunch. She’s decided we all have to be there, so we must. Because she says so.

  I head up the stairs, closely followed by Leo. He gives me a playful slap on the bum, which makes me giggle. He’s never struggled to put a smile on my face, even when I’m in a bad mood.

  ‘Well, this room looks exactly how we left it,’ I point out.

  ‘Nearly,’ he points out. ‘Both the pillows are at the top of the bed.’

  I laugh. When Leo and I shared this room last time, it was after we’d put our little summer romance on hold, at the request of my sister, who was worried my sex life might ruin her wedding for some reason. In the interest of keeping things platonic, I’d slept with my head at the top of the bed and Leo with his at the bottom.

  ‘None of that business tonight,’ I point out, running my hands up the front of his body before hooking them behind his neck. I press my body against him and gently place my lips on his, teasing him with my tongue. Usually my eager boyfriend reciprocates but tonight he feels stiff – and not in a good way.

  ‘You OK?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah,’ he replies. ‘Just a bit tired, I think.’

  ‘You’re never tired,’ I point out.

  ‘I work long, gruelling shifts as a firefighter, and when I’m not doing that, I’m working on the house – trust me, I get tired,’ he laughs.

  ‘You’re never too tired for sex,’ I point out, narrowing my eyes.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he says, kissing me on the forehead before diving onto the bed.

  I nod gently as I think to myself for a few seconds.

  It’s funny. When you start dating someone, you try to spend as much time with them as possible, trying to work out whether you like them before you sleep with them – all while they’re trying to get you into bed. But then, once you’re actually a couple, and they can have sex with you whenever they want, it gets to a point where you’re having to practically beg them. At least that’s how it feels sometimes. I suppose life just starts getting in the way, especially when your boyfriend works shifts.

  ‘OK. Well, I think I’ll take a walk. It’s not even really dark yet,’ I say.

  ‘You want some company?’ he asks.

  ‘No, you rest up,’ I reply. ‘Save your energy for tomorrow.’

  I walk out, closing the door behind me. I bite my lip, like I always do when I’m thinking. I’m not saying I’m irresistible to men, but I know my boyfriend. Something is definitely up here.

  Chapter Three

  In preparation for renovating the house we just bought, Leo made me sit through a lot of TV shows about buying houses, fixing them up and decking out the interior. While it wasn’t exactly my favourite way to spend time, I have to admit I learned a lot. I learned that, when it comes to your home, one thing is very important: location, location, location.

  My house in LA was in the Hollywood Hills, and it didn’t matter how many times I took in the view from my floor-to-ceiling living room, it took my breath away. This beach house, with its beach for a back garden, is also in a truly amazing location. The house I just bought with Leo, well, let’s just say the location isn’t exactly anything to write home about. We were bound by a few factors, like Leo needing to live close to work, and our financial limits, so when he found us a house that wasn’t tiny or expensive, it seemed like the perfect fit. The reason it wasn’t expensive is because it used to be a student house, situated in the heart of the student village. I didn’t realise a few things when we bought it: one was that the renovations would take so long and the other was that living in a house surrounded by students would be so noisy.

  It isn’t noisy here, unless you count the lapping of the waves and the light breeze dancing around on the sand. I used to walk this beach back in the day, when everyone was stressing me out and I wanted to clear my head. There’s a little café down here called Shell’s that I used to go to, but I don’t suppose it will be open at this time in the evening.

  I don’t get too far down the beach before I spot something else familiar: Chris, the lifeguard I met while he was working here four years ago. Not only is he still living here, but his golden retriever, Jay, is still helping him keep the shores safe. They�
��re jogging along the beach, getting closer by the second, and suddenly I feel so self-conscious.

  The first time Chris met me I was wearing a tiny nightdress – or maybe it was a tiny bikini. Either way, I had a lot of flesh on show and he had to pick his jaw up from the floor. My long blonde hair was flowing back then and so was my confidence. Now, I no longer have the perfect beach body and the one I do have is hidden under a pair of trackies and a baggy, off-the-shoulder T-shirt. My hair is shorter, darker and scraped up on top of my head, and my easy confidence is MIA.

  As Chris approaches I try to psych myself up. So what if I look different? Chris was just some guy I met on the beach who I fancied – I have an incredibly gorgeous boyfriend who loves me now.

  I glance up at Chris as he jogs past me with a blank nod of acknowledgement – the kind you’d give to any stranger on the beach. I can’t believe it. He doesn’t recognise me. I don’t look that different, do I? I know I’m a bit out of shape, and fully clothed, which isn’t a state I think he’s ever seen me in before, and my hair is different, but I’m still me and I feel like he spent enough time with me that he should recognise me if he saw me again.

  That’s twice I’ve received the cold shoulder this evening and it’s hard not to take it personally. Chris doesn’t recognise me as the girl he knew back then and, now we’re back in the beach house, maybe Leo doesn’t either.

  I consider talking to Leo about how I’m feeling but by the time I get back to our room he’s fast asleep. I climb in next to him and close my eyes.

  Chapter Four

  I exhale deeply as I wait for Leo out on the decking. When we woke up this morning he told me we were going for a walk, so I scraped my hair back up on top of my head, slipped on my scruffy outfit from last night and sleepily made my way outside to wait for him.

  My attention flits between admiring the ocean, playing with the sand with my toes, and picking off the remains of my blue nail polish as I wait for Leo to appear.

  ‘Look at you,’ I squeak as he steps outside. ‘You look amazing and I look like trash.’