THE HUSBAND HUNTERS

by LUCY LAING

  ‘Okay,’ I said to Soph, giving her a hug.

  ‘I’ve missed you all horribly,’ she said in a cracked voice, ‘but there’s something else I need to tell you.’ I wondered what it could be. Soph had already pinched one of my ex-boyfriends; surely she couldn’t have broken it off with Paul and hooked up with another of my past disasters?

  ‘The thing is,’ Soph looked a bit nervous, ‘Paul and I, well, we’re getting married.’

  I looked at her, dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe it. My eyes automatically looked at her left hand. How could I have missed the huge, stonking, diamond sparkler sitting there on her fourth finger, mocking me?

  I swallowed the dart of jealousy that had started to sear through me. Paul and I could have never worked. He had dumped me before he met Soph.

  ‘That’s nice,’ I said, but it sounded lame. I was trying to be pleased for her, but to hear she was getting married, within a few minutes of me generously bestowing forgiveness on her, was a bit too much to take in.

  ‘I know you can’t be thrilled for me, Bee,’ she said, taking my hand, ‘but Paul is my soul-mate, and I could never imagine being without him – and it’s all thanks to the club for making me go to that reunion. Otherwise, I would have never have met him.’

  I had to agree. It was a success for the club. We were going to get at least one wedding. It would be hard seeing her and Paul walk down the aisle, but I needed to hold my head up high and try and be pleased for Soph. Having one of your friends get married, was almost as good as getting married yourself.

  ‘This calls for a celebration,’ I said, getting up from the sofa. ‘I’ll call the girls and we can have some champagne.’ I went in to the kitchen to phone the girls. I didn’t want Soph to overhear any of the conversations.

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’ said Tash. ‘After what she did to you – I’m surprised you even let her into the house.’

  ‘It’s hard,’ I agreed, ‘but Paul and I were never meant to be – and he and Soph are obviously so in love. Don’t forget what the fortune-teller said. Let’s be happy for them.’

  ‘Okay,’ Tash agreed, ‘and anyway, I’d do anything for a glass of champagne. So get it cracked open, I’m on my way.’

  ***

  Soph and Paul’s wedding had been organized for six months’ time.

  ‘It doesn’t give us much time to plan,’ fretted Rach, although she was pleased that her baby would have been born by then, and she wouldn’t be waddling around with a huge bump. In the last few weeks Rach’s bump had grown and she was already moaning that the only clothes she could fit into could double as a family-sized tent.

  ‘It’s okay. Mum’s doing a lot of the organizing,’ said Soph. ‘We have to sort out the dresses and the hen night too, of course. I want all of you to be bridesmaids.’

  The following weekend, we all found ourselves in Brides of Manchester – a huge boutique with every kind of imaginable dress. It seemed surreal that we were actually in here, planning a real wedding. This time we weren’t cutting designs out of magazines and bringing them in to the meeting. Instead we were in a bridal shop – and it was the real deal. I felt a bit emotional. The club had done what we had set out to do – Soph had found herself a husband.

  ‘You were the first bride that we picked out of the fate draw to walk down the aisle. It really must be fate,’ said Tash, pulling a long, beige silk dress, off the rail and holding it against her. ‘What do you think girls?’ she asked.

  ‘Fabulous for you with your dark skin and dark hair, but it will make the rest of us look like washed out freaks,’ said Kaz. ‘No way are we having beige.’ Tash sulkily hung the dress back on the rail.

  ‘What about this?’ I asked, pulling out a dress in deep purple. It was stunning – a long column of purple satin, with a top layer of sheer fabric in a slightly darker shade. It would be perfect for all of our skin tones.

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ agreed Tash, snatching the dress from me and holding it up to her. It was a perfect bridesmaid’s dress. Not a meringue in sight – just pure elegance.

  We all excitedly tried on the dress in the changing rooms. The assistant took our measurements to order sizes.

  ‘Are you not a bridesmaid?’ she asked Rach, who was looking particularly enormous that morning in a huge, black poncho.

  ‘Yes, but ‘I’ll wait until I’ve had the baby before I try mine on,’ said Rach, laughing. ‘Otherwise I’ll look like a gigantic blackcurrant.’

  Soph was thrilled that the bridesmaids’ dresses had been sorted out. We walked out of the shop, and I fell behind, walking with Tash.

  ‘What’s happening with you and Rob at the moment?’ I asked her.

  ‘We are seeing each other again now,’ she confessed, ‘but it’s very low-key. Hazel flipped her lid when she found out about us, so I might have to start wearing my back protector out in public and not just in the car. It’s going well, but we are taking things slowly. We’ve both grown up a lot since our fling all those years ago, but it’s got promise.

  ‘Do you think he would ever get back with Hazel?’ I asked curiously. ‘I never trust a man when he says he is completely over his ex. Exes always have a habit of rearing their ugly heads again, and then you find yourself suddenly dumped, because he’s back with the woman he spent the entire last six months slagging off.’ Tash looked at me as if I’d grown another head.

  ‘I’ve never been dumped by a man and I don’t intend to start now,’ she said snootily. ‘Mind you, Hazel was furious about him seeing me, so she may well try to ruin it. We will have to wait and see.’

  Soph was thrilled to be back in the club and she asked for a meeting, so she could catch up on all the news.

  She gasped when she heard about Tash’s internet stranger turning out to be Mr Beale –although I had to hand it to Tash – the story didn’t lose anything in the telling. Tash made it sound like she and Rob had been the tortured, romantic souls of Cathy and Heathcliffe. Soph got thoroughly caught up in the saga and even I almost believed it.

  Rach then showed Soph a picture of Adam the builder that she’d sneakily taken on her mobile phone, the night he came into the restaurant.

  ‘I can’t believe how drop dead gorgeous he is, Kaz,’ she said, snatching the phone from Rach, to have a closer drool over him. ‘I’m surprised you’re not dropping your knickers quicker than the speed of sound.’

  ‘Oh, I am,’ said Kaz, ‘and it’s bloody good I can tell you.’ We all looked at her in envy. ‘But any day now I’m going to call it off. He took me to McDonald’s again for dinner.’

  ‘He’s a builder, he must have some money,’ pointed out Rach.

  ‘Yes, but his dad is in a nursing home, and he has to pay the bills for that,’ said Kaz. ‘He hasn’t two pennies to rub together – and I’m not going to be living on McDonald’s burgers for the rest of my life – even if he is amazing in the sack.’

  We all shook our heads. Kaz was a lost cause and there was nothing any of us could do about it. It looked like it was only Soph and Tash who were going to end up with anything near a husband, and even that wasn’t great. Tash had still managed to trap off with someone else’s husband – even if Rob was a free agent now – he was still legally married.

  ‘Anyway, more importantly, what happened with Nick?’ asked Tash. I needed no encouragement on this one. Just thinking about Nick made my blood boil.

  We had filled Soph in on the Jen saga. She had got excited when we told her about all the emails from Jen. When we told her about the premiere and Jen completely ignoring us, and then me finding Nick’s email, she was almost ready to go round and thump him herself.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve done that already,’ I said grimly. And boy had Nick got it in the neck, when I’d gone into work that morning. He’d been sitting at his desk and had looked up smiling, when he saw me.

  ‘Can I get you a coffee?’ he had asked breezily, walking over to the coffee machine. ‘Get me an iced water, instead,’ I said, perching
on my desk, ‘and put plenty of ice cubes in it. ‘

  Nick came back with the water. I took it from him, pulled the front of his jumper out and poured the whole lot inside his shirt.

  ‘Aaarggh! What was that for?’ he gasped, hopping on the spot, and pulling his shirt out. The ice cubes cascaded on to the floor.

  ‘What do you mean, what was that for?’ I screeched. ‘How about all those fake emails from Jen, and letting me go all the way for a premiere to meet with someone who didn’t even know I existed.’ I was puce in the face with rage.

  ‘I did try and stop you going to London,’ said Nick, backing away from me.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t quick enough,’ I screamed at him, picking up the heavyweight stapler, and throwing it at him. It caught him on the shoulder. ‘And have that, too,’ I said, picking up a half-eaten fried egg and bacon sandwich from his desk and throwing that at him too. I had the satisfaction of seeing the egg explode down the side of his face, spattering yellow yolk in his hair. Nick had started to run for the door. ‘And that,’ I yelled, hurling the pot plant from the front desk at his back. That caught him too, mixing soil with the egg yolk. God! I was a good aim. If I got sacked from the agency for hurling all the office possessions around, I could always take up international baseball.

  ‘I can’t believe you threw all that at him.’ said Soph, admiringly.

  ‘I had to clean up the mess pretty quickly, before Maria arrived,’ I said, ‘but it did make me feel a damn sight better, seeing Nick covered from head to toe, in egg yolk and soil.’

  ‘It was quite funny, I suppose,’ said Kaz. ‘He got us all believing in it.’

  ‘Kaz, it was not remotely funny. He knew how excited I was, when I got all those emails. I even hoovered my flat ready for Jen to come and stay,’ I said hotly, ‘and I even nearly faced a giant spider, too.’ I gave a shiver. ‘Imagine if I had been attacked by that thing. It would all have been for nothing.’

  Rach laughed, and suddenly touched her stomach. Her face screwed up in pain.

  ‘Oh! My God! Are you in labour,’ I shrieked, jumping out of my chair. ‘Quick, do something. You need to get to hospital.’

  ‘Calm down, Bee,’ said Rach. ‘I’m only six months pregnant. I’ve got a bit of indigestion that’s all. I shouldn’t have eaten that cheese starter – which brings me to this.’ She reached down and pulled out a sports bag from underneath the table. She unzipped it and pulled out a lifelike doll. It looked just like a baby. ‘It’s the educational doll,’ she said. ‘I borrowed it from my ante-natal class, as I need you to all be a bit more comfortable with handling a baby.’

  She handed the doll to Tash, who held it out in front of her with both arms extended.

  ‘It’s not going to bite you,’ said Rach, with a laugh.

  ‘What am I meant to do with it?’ asked Tash, dubiously.

  ‘Cuddle it to you, for a start,’ said Rach. ‘Make the baby feel like it has some contact with you.’

  ‘It’s not going to be sick all over me is it?’ asked Tash worriedly. ‘I’ve got my best Armani jumper on tonight.’

  ‘Tash, it’s a doll,’ pointed out Kaz. ‘It can’t be sick like a real baby.’

  ‘With dolls now, you never know what they can do,’ protested Tash. ‘My niece has got one that wets its nappy and cries real tears. There could be one that projectile vomits.’

  Tash looked so awkward with the doll that Kaz took it from her and patted the baby’s back over her shoulder. She seemed at ease with it. Tash was still regarding it suspiciously. I don’t think she believed us, one hundred per cent, that the doll wasn’t going to suddenly puke up over her shoulder.

  Rach then pulled out a paper nappy from the bag too. She handed it to me.

  ‘Okay, Bee, try and put this on,’ she instructed.

  Kaz handed me the doll. All the girls were looking at me expectantly. It was worse than sitting a school exam – there was so much pressure. I glanced around the restaurant. The other diners were trying to see what we were doing, yet pretending that they weren’t. I took a deep breath and flipped the doll over on to its front. I picked up the nappy and laid it on its bottom.

  ‘No, no, no,’ said Rach, quickly turning the doll back over again. ‘You can’t turn the baby over flat on its face, it will suffocate. Pick its legs up and slide the nappy underneath,’ she instructed. ‘Not too high,’ she added, as I almost stood the baby on its head.

  Letting out my breath in a big sigh, I finally fastened the sticky tapes around the baby’s waist – although there was one hairy moment when one of the tapes got stuck on my fingernail and nearly pulled off the French nail polish that I’d spent ages applying that morning at work.

  ‘That was easy,’ I boasted, confident now that the nappy was safely on. Next Rach pulled out a bottle and handed it to Kaz.

  ‘Hold the baby cradled in the crook of your arm and gently tip the bottle towards its mouth,’ she instructed Kaz. The waiter came over to take another drinks order. He stared at Kaz, nursing the plastic doll in her arms, giving it a plastic bottle.

  ‘Ees it alive?’ he asked, peering down at the doll.

  ‘Oh no, it’s a plastic doll,’ explained Rach. The waiter looked bemused. Rach was screeching at Kaz now, not to tip the bottle too far down the baby’s throat, as it would start choking. She was quite loud – and the other diners were staring at her openly now, looking shocked. I got up to go to the ladies. As I walked past a couple at the next table, the woman grabbed at my sleeve.

  ‘Is she all right?’ she whispered sympathetically. ‘Does she think it’s a real baby?’ She did have a point. Rach did look like a demented woman who didn’t realize the difference between a plastic doll and the real thing. I was tempted to tell her that Rach had been let out of a psychiatric ward for the day, and we didn’t know her at all. It would be less embarrassing.

  ‘Yes, she does know it’s plastic,’ I admitted to the woman. ‘She’s getting a bit carried away showing us how to look after a baby that's all, as none of us have babies of our own.’ Now, the woman started looking sympathetically at me. I suddenly felt like some barren, old bag, who had never known the joys of cradling a baby in my arms.

  I marched back to Rach, and propelled her back into her seat.

  ‘I think it would be a good idea if we all took turns to take it home and practice with it,’ I said brightly, taking the doll from Kaz and quickly zipping it back into the holdall. We were enough of a laughing stock, already. Luckily, Rach agreed.

  ‘If you all have a bit of practice, then at least I will feel happier in a few weeks when this little one is born,’ she said, patting her bump. I had my doubts about whether Tash would ever be deemed fit enough to hold Rach’s precious baby, but I kept my thoughts to myself. I didn’t want the doll being whipped back out of the holdall, to give Tash another crash course.

  It was nice to see Soph back again. Everyone had missed her, and it had always seemed odd only having four chairs around the restaurant table during the meetings. There was a beep from outside the window. Paul’s silver Porsche had pulled up.

  ‘Paul’s come to pick me up. Shall I ask him to come in?’ asked Soph eagerly.

  ‘Perhaps not quite yet,’ said Tash, surprisingly gently for her, ‘– next time.’

  I watched as Soph ran happily out of the door and opened the passenger door of the Porsche. She slid into the leather seat and kissed Paul full on the lips. I waited for the pang of pain to jolt through me, but strangely it didn’t. I must be on the road to recovery, I thought, smiling at Tash.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked sympathetically.

  ‘Do you know what? I think I am,’ I said, firmly.

  The minutes were there on my computer the next morning.

  PROGRESS REPORTS.

  * Everybody to take home the educational doll for a night, apart from Tash, who needs it for two nights. By the next meeting, everyone must be able to put a nappy on correctly, feed a bottle, hold and burp the baby. Tash
asked if she should hold the baby and burp at the same time – as she would need to drink a can of coke to achieve that. Rach had rolled her eyes and patiently told Tash, that it was the baby who needed to burp, not her. (I think Rach is rapidly running out of patience. She had been thinking of asking a friend of hers who has recently given birth, to come to the next meeting with her baby. I said it wasn’t a good idea. We didn’t want to be had up for manslaughter if we tried to change a nappy and ended up suffocating it.)

  * Kaz to try hypnotherapy with Soph’s mum, to try and convince her that McDonald’s burgers are a tasty meal out. Kaz said she was willing to give anything a try, as she did really like Adam. It was only his cheapskate meals out that were putting her off. Soph’s mum to try and persuade Kaz that eating at McDonald’s was as good as dining at the Ivy. Soph said you might not see Kate Moss and her friends at McDonald’s, but that Ronald McDonald was as much of a long standing celebrity in his own right.

  * Venues for Soph’s hen night were discussed. Kaz suggested we go to Rome or somewhere equally cultural. Rach suggested Blackpool and we could all dress up as erotic dancers and wear nipple tassels. (I think the woman in the restaurant was right and Rach is slightly demented at the moment, with too many pregnancy hormones raging. I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating than prancing around Blackpool virtually naked, with only a pair of nipple tassels on. We were thirty, not nineteen – for God’s sake. )

  * Our bridesmaids’ dresses fittings were scheduled for a weeks’ time. (I needed to go on a crash diet, to try and reduce my slight muffin top that always came over the top of my jeans, however hard I tried to suck it in.)