How Not to be a Bride

by Portia MacIntosh

  ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he says as he shakes my hand.

  ‘Hi,’ I reply, stifling a laugh. I’d be old enough to be his mum, if I’d been more interested in boys than getting good GCSEs when I was fifteen.

  ‘Are you the new girl?’ he asks. ‘It’s about time we got some talent. No offence, ladies.’

  ‘None taken, you little creep,’ Jezebel laughs. She grabs me by the hand again, leading me out of the room. ‘You’re so far out of his league, it’s hilarious.’

  She plonks herself down on one of the sofas in the waiting room, pulling me down with her.

  ‘So, we’ve got five rooms here: Zombie Apocalypse, Houdini, Illuminati, The Hole and Candy Land. There’s something for everyone really. So we greet customers, shove them in a room, lock the door and then we watch them on the computers and send them hints if they need them. Have you played before?’

  ‘I haven’t,’ I admit, suddenly very curious about how it all works.

  ‘So, the rooms are full of locks – padlocks, key locks, number locks – on doors, cupboards, drawers and boxes. There are all kinds of different puzzles and riddles. People just figure shit out and it unlocks a thing, and then that gives them more clues for another thing, and next thing you know they’re out here and we just take their picture and send them on their way.’

  ‘Does it take a long time to learn the games?’ I ask.

  ‘Nah,’ she replies casually with a bat of her hand. ‘It’s an easy gig. The owners never bother with the place. Your girl Jezebel is running the show now. You interested?’

  ‘Erm…’

  Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what to do. The place seems very relaxed – a little too relaxed, though. It’s being run by a bunch of students, only a couple of years off being actual children. They do all seem really happy here, though, so maybe I could be too. Maybe working here would be fun, a great daytime distraction and a bit of extra money for this wedding I haven’t started planning yet.

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t you let me show you the ropes, and then a few of us are going to the bar downstairs after, so come for a drink with us and get to know the others too.’

  ‘OK, sure,’ I say. ‘That’d be great.’

  ‘Awesome-o,’ she replies. ‘Think about which game you wanna run first and we’ll train you up on that one. I’m going to grab my phone, tell the others we’ve got one more for Beer Pong tonight.’

  Jezebel runs off excitedly.

  Well, Leo is working until late, so I might as well go out, rather than just sit at home alone, just waiting for him to come back. I feel like I never see him any more, but I know it’s only temporary. Before we know it the house will be done and then we’ll be married and then we can spend more nights just curled up on the sofa together.

  I’m not going to get ahead of myself here, I’m just going to see how tonight goes. I just feel like getting a real job, of some description, will be good for my mental health. It’s not good for a girl to be at home all the time, just making up fake worlds full of fake people, all having fake conversations and fake feelings.

  I could just do this for a bit, even if it’s just until it’s time to start work on my next book. And I can still plan my wedding while I’m working here. How hard can planning a wedding be?

  Chapter Ten

  Staggering out of the bar with my new potential colleagues, I don’t have any idea what time it is, but I know I should probably head home. The good news is that everyone who works at Houdini’s is a student, so we all walk home the same way. It’s like I’ve found my perfect friends and colleagues in one neat little package. It’s funny that they’re, like, ten years younger than me – at least – but we seem to be on the same wavelength. Plus, they think I’m their age, which is a huge boost to my thirty-three-year-old ego.

  Jezebel hooks her arms around my neck with the familiarity of someone who has known me all my life. In fact, the entire Houdini team seem to have fallen in love with me.

  It’s been a great night. I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with new people, making them laugh, playing Beer Pong with them – even if I am terrible and I hate the taste of beer.

  ‘I don’t wanna call it a night,’ Jezebel whines, her breath smelling so strongly of beer I hold my own, so I don’t have to endure her secondhand beer fumes.

  ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ Sam suggests. ‘Ring of Fire!’

  ‘Yeaaaah, Ring of Fire,’ Jezebel replies. ‘You’re coming up, right, Mia?’

  ‘Erm…’

  I suppose I could hang around for a bit… well, it saves me making my own way home, especially seeing as I’m a little tipsy. Plus, I’m enjoying bonding with my new teammates.

  ‘Come on,’ Sam insists.

  ‘OK, sure,’ I reply.

  ‘Let’s do this,’ Sam yells meaningfully as Jezebel removes the office keys from her bag and unlocks the door.

  ‘So, you guys are allowed to hang out here after work?’ I ask cautiously.

  ‘Not really,’ Jezebel replies. ‘But no one will ever know.’

  Once we’re inside Houdini’s, everyone works together to clear a space in the centre of the room, just like they did when they were showing me how to reset the game rooms earlier. Bully disappears inside the Houdini room and remerges with a deck of cards. He spreads them out in a circular shape in the middle of the room while Jezebel places an empty cup in the middle. As we all take our places in a circle around the game set-up, Hayley and Lea walk out of the offices with two bottles of various spirits each.

  ‘Ring of Fire!’ Sam screeches excitedly.

  ‘I don’t know how to play this one,’ I admit. I thought about pretending I did, but I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my new friends. There are eight of us sitting on the floor, ready to play – Jezebel, Sam, Hayley, Bully and Lea from earlier, along with two guys whose names I don’t remember.

  Everyone in the room cries out in shock.

  ‘What? You don’t know how to play Ring of Fire? And you went to uni?’ Sam says in disbelief.

  I don’t even know if this game existed when I was their age, but even if it did, I had other things on my mind back then. Even though I went to university, I never really did the student-life thing. You know, living on a diet of nothing but noodles and cheap booze, doing minimal studying on minimal sleep – that sort of thing. Studying always came before socialising for me.

  ‘Sorry,’ I laugh.

  ‘It’s OK, she’ll pick it up as she goes along,’ Jezebel insists. ‘Let’s just play.’

  ‘Basically, we all have a drink in our hands, and we take turns at picking up a card, and what everyone does depends on what card is pulled out. You go first, Mia.’

  This sounds like a very confusing game for drunk people to play. Too much to remember.

  ‘OK,’ I say confidently. I reach out and carefully select a card, turning it over to show the room what it is. ‘Four of hearts.’

  ‘Fours are whores, so all the women have to drink,’ Sam tells me.

  I laugh as I sip from my plastic cup. Oh wow, it’s neat, cheap vodka. I’ve already had a few tonight, and I don’t think I’m the seasoned drinker I used to be.

  Sam goes next.

  ‘Eight,’ he announces as he flips a card over, ‘Eight is mate, so Mia, I choose you. Every time I drink, you have to as well.’

  ‘OK,’ I laugh.

  A few other people take a turn, with a variety of consequences. If someone gets a two, two is you, so they pick a person to have a drink. Three is me, which means the player drinks. Seven is Heaven, which means the last person with their hands in the air has to drink – which is me, every time, because I keep forgetting what all the numbers mean. The worst one of all is when a king is drawn – each time someone has turned over a king, they’ve poured a little bit of their drink into the cup in the middle of the ring, making one nasty-looking cocktail.

  I take my turn, turning my card over to reveal the fourth and final king from the deck. I go to p
our some of my drink in the cup, but Sam stops me.

  ‘That’s the fourth king, Mia – that means you’ve gotta drink the king’s cup.’

  ‘I’ve gotta drink that?’ I squeak in shock, because it looks disgusting. But put it down to how much I’ve had to drink already, put it down to the fact everyone is chanting my name, put it down to peer pressure, put it down to whatever you want, but I grab the cup and chug the contents, draining every last drop to a room full of cheering and applause. As I finish, Sam launches himself across the floor, throwing himself at me for a celebratory hug. I quickly wriggle free from his grasp and fix my dress so I’m not flashing my underwear.

  As Sam sets up the next game, I can’t help but notice that Jezebel is looking upset. I scoot over to her, talking quietly so only she can hear.

  ‘Do you like Sam?’ I ask her.

  ‘I hate him, he’s such a sleaze,’ she replies quickly.

  ‘Yeah, but do you like him like him?’ I ask.

  ‘Is it that obvious?’ she replies. ‘He’s not interested in me. I’m ploughing my way through Matcher at the moment. Not having much luck there either.’

  Ergh. Matcher is a dating app I researched for a book not too long ago. I feel so lucky I’ve never had to put up with the crap women get on those things.

  ‘So you need to be very critical of potential matches,’ I advise. ‘Don’t just look at their photos and read their bios, look in the background of their photos and read between the lines of their bios. Keen to seem like more than just your average beardy, buff, banterous Matcher boy, blokes will use euphemisms – sometimes without even realising it. Like, if they say that they “live for the weekend” then they’re probably boring on the other five days of the week. Those who are “brutally honest” are probably just rude. People who “tell it how it is” generally have no filter.’

  As Jezebel starts laughing, I realise I’m babbling.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No, tell me more,’ she insists. ‘You’re so much wiser than all of us.’

  That’s because I’m old.

  ‘If they insist their mates made them sign up for the app, they’re too proud. Worst of all, if they say they’re looking for an “open-minded girl” then run a mile because what that really means is that they’re looking for 50 shades of wehey! – like, they’re the kind of guy with a very particular set of skills… no… wait… that’s from Taken…unconventional desires, that’s Fifty Shades, right? I haven’t read the book, or watched the movie, but I know the meme.’

  ‘You’re so funny,’ Jezebel insists. ‘I really hope you take the job.’

  ‘I’m really thinking about it,’ I tell her, hiccupping loudly at the end of my sentence. It’s been so long since I drank this much.

  ‘So, if we can get Hayley and Bully to stop getting off with each other for, like, ten minutes,’ Sam yells for the benefit of the happy couple in the room, ‘we can play Spin the Bottle: Truth or Dare.’

  Oh God. I’m an engaged lady. I can’t play Truth or Dare with a bunch of kids.

  Before I know it the game is underway. I just need to hope and pray it doesn’t land on me.

  It’s amazing how many rounds I get through unscathed, while other members of the group reveal a series of embarrassing facts, take off random items of clothing and swap saliva with whomever they are told to.

  Sam spins the bottle, which, thankfully, flies past me, landing on Bully, who is sitting opposite me.

  ‘Truth,’ he says.

  ‘OK,’ Sam starts, a cheeky glimmer in his eyes. ‘If you and Hayley had to have a threesome with one of us, who would it be?’

  ‘Mia,’ he replies. His answer takes me aback, causing me to spit my drink out.

  ‘Huh?’ I say, wiping vodka from my chin with the sleeve of my dress.

  ‘We both think you’re really fit,’ Bully tells me. ‘We’d love to get together with you sometime.’

  ‘I’m flattered,’ I laugh, unable to hide my awkwardness. I don’t care if I have to drunkenly make my own way home, this is definitely when I leave.

  ‘Mia, I dare you to bang Bully and Hayley in The Hole,’ Sam says.

  My eyebrows shoot up at his words, until I remember The Hole is a room here.

  ‘It’s not my turn,’ I say, laughing it off.

  ‘Come on,’ he insists. ‘We can all watch in the office.’

  ‘I’m an engaged lady,’ I insist, waving my left hand around like a dancer from a Beyoncé music video so they can see my ring.

  ‘Of course you are,’ he laughs. ‘You all just need a little encouragement.’

  Sam ushers Bully and Haley into The Hole before picking me up, throwing me over his shoulder, plonking me down on the floor next to them and running out, locking the door behind him.

  ‘I’m not having sex with you,’ I tell them, very matter-of-factly, just in case they thought I might. ‘Do you guys come up here and play games often?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Hayley replies. ‘Ever since the manager got the sack.’

  Wow. These guys are like teenagers with free house while their parents are away for the weekend. They just get drunk and get off with each other – I’ve heard of close friends, but this is ridiculous.

  ‘Let me out, please,’ I shout, waving my arms at the CCTV camera. I wait 30 seconds, but no one comes. ‘I said let me out you little cu—’

  Jezebel opens the door.

  ‘Come on, Mia,’ she insists. ‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’

  How very kind of her.

  ‘Come on,’ she says, ushering me out. ‘Have another drink with me.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ I tell her, refocusing my eyes, trying to determine if I’m sober enough to walk home. I grab my phone from my bag to see a couple of missed calls from Leo, and the fact that it’s 3:02 a.m. Shit. I’d better get an Uber and get myself home to my fiancé.

  Chapter Eleven

  At first, it’s the drum, banging inside my head. Then it’s the deathly bright light, melting its way through my eyelids, stabbing into my brain. Finally, my nose catches a whiff of something familiar, something that usually appeals, but not today. Today it’s making me feel…

  ‘Oh God, I’m gonna throw up,’ I announce, jumping up, making a run for the bathroom.

  ‘I’d come after you but it will put me off my bacon sandwich,’ Leo calls after me.

  I’m sick a little, but not enough to feel better. Glancing down at my body, I see that I’m in my underwear, which means my wonderful fiancé must’ve undressed me and put me to bed, because I’m not one-hundred on what really happened last night.

  I wash my face, brush my teeth and take a long, hard look at myself in the mirror.

  I make my way back to bed, walking in a slow, controlled and careful way, so as not to aggravate the angry drummer practising on my brain.

  I lie down on the bed carefully next to Leo, who is drinking a coffee. He looks like he’s been up for a while – he’s probably been for a run too.

  ‘Good night was it?’ he asks.

  I place my pillow over my face.

  ‘No,’ I mumble.

  ‘It was coming up to 4 a.m. when you got in,’ he tells me. ‘Where were you?’

  Leo doesn’t sound angry, but I’m sure he’s wondering where the hell I was until 4 a.m. while he was working, when he thought I was at home in bed.

  ‘I went to get a job,’ I tell him honestly.

  ‘A job?’ he replies. ‘When you came in you told me you’d been partying with students. Well, I think you got the job.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, uncovering my face so I can see his.

  ‘You got in, I put you to bed and you fell straight asleep. But then your phone started ringing – just some number, someone you didn’t have in your contacts. After the fifth missed call I figured it must be important, so I answered it. It was a girl called Jezebel, who asked if I was your dad and then told me to say that everyone was very sorry about locking you in a room so that
you could have a threesome.’

  I visibly cringe.

  ‘She seems like a sweet kid,’ he says sarcastically.

  ‘So, I really did go for a job,’ I begin to explain. ‘I saw this listing for a Games Master at Houdini’s in town – it’s an escape game.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve been,’ he tells me. ‘Team-building thing with work. Absolute shit-show there.’

  ‘I know that now,’ I laugh, carefully, because my head is still banging. ‘They said they’d show me the ropes, then they invited me out, then we went back to the office to play Circle of Hell or something and next thing I know they’re locking me up for a threesome. I told them I was engaged… they didn’t believe me. I think they thought I was their age.’

  ‘So, are you going to take the job?’ Leo asks.

  I look at him in disbelief.

  ‘I’m kidding,’ he laughs. ‘Come here.’

  My lovely fiancé gently scoops me up effortlessly and holds me close.

  ‘Is everything OK?’ he asks.

  ‘Of course,’ I reply. ‘Why do you ask?’

  I stoke his chest affectionately as we chat.

  ‘It’s just, going out with students… it’s not some kind of statement or cry for help is it? Like, if the house and the wedding are too much for you…’

  ‘It’s not a cry for help, I promise.’

  ‘What made you think you wanted a job?’ he asks.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I reply. ‘I was just thinking, the house is expensive, the wedding will be expensive, I’m so bored at home alone between books…’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about money,’ he assures me. ‘And I’ll start dialling down the overtime a little. I know it feels like we hardly see each other at the moment. Let’s go out tonight,’ he suggests. ‘Spend some time together, figure out what you can do with all this free time now your book is finished.’

  ‘I’d like that a lot,’ I reply, smiling widely.

  I miss Leo when he’s working, of course I do, but I think the thing that bothers me the most about all this overtime is just how scared I am while he’s at work. Everyone knows being a fireman is a dangerous job, but that danger feels all the more real with Leo.