The Girl's Guide to Getting Hitched: A charming feel-good read

by Sophie Hart

  ‘That’s not true. I don’t have to listen to this.’ She made a move towards the door, but Jon grabbed her, his fingers digging in painfully in the way he’d done so many times before. She’d always wondered whether or not it was accidental, but Aimee understood now that it was about power and control, like so many of his actions.

  ‘You do have to listen,’ Jon hissed, and she felt flecks of spittle land on her cheeks. ‘I’ve put a roof over your head, paid for all your meals, even the clothes you’re wearing now were bought by me.’

  With a sickening jolt, Aimee realised that was true. She looked down at the pretty chiffon summer dress from Karen Millen and felt nauseous, hating herself. Never again, she vowed. Giving up her job had been an enormous mistake; she never wanted to lose her independence like that.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she gabbled, seemingly incapable of saying anything else today. ‘I’ll pay you back, I’ll pay it all back.’

  ‘Pay it back? With what? You don’t have any money, and neither do your parents with their measly little house and clapped-out car. Mother was right all along – you were never good enough for me.’

  His grip was tightening with every word, and Aimee winced in pain, genuinely frightened.

  ‘Jon, you’re hurting me,’ she cried, sounding terrified.

  Jonathan didn’t seem to hear, his eyes blazing as he continued to rant maniacally. ‘You’re just a common little slag, out for whatever she can get, and I fell for it like—’

  Aimee shoved him as hard as she could and he lost his balance, falling hard against the desk. The jolt stopped him in his tracks, and Aimee seized her opportunity, making a bolt for the door. She pulled it open, then stopped abruptly in the doorway, turning back to look at her ex-fiancé. He was slumped against the desk, his head bowed, looking utterly dejected.

  ‘I never meant to hurt you, or for us to end up like this,’ Aimee told him. He raised his eyes to look at her, his expression beaten. ‘I did love you, Jon, you know that. But I can’t marry you.’

  With that, Aimee turned on her heel, walking for the final time along the plush cream carpet to the enormous front door. She could hear the sound of chattering and laughter drifting through from the back of the house, and felt nothing but relief that she no longer had to deal with those people.

  Collecting her handbag from the entrance hall, she pulled out her car keys and realised that the gleaming Mercedes had been yet another (unwanted) gift from Jonathan. There was no way she could drive home in it. She left the key on the side table and pulled out her phone to text Julia:

  Meet me outside the front gates asap!!

  Aimee didn’t want to hang around on Valerie’s property any longer than she had to. She marched sharply across the gravel driveway and out through the imposing gates. Moments later, Julia arrived, confusion written across her face as she spotted Aimee.

  ‘What happened? Is everything okay?’

  Aimee held up her empty left hand. ‘I think you might be out of a job.’

  Julia’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Are you being serious?’

  Aimee nodded, suddenly feeling close to tears once again, but this time it was for an entirely different reason. ‘I told him I couldn’t marry him.’

  ‘Oh, Aimee,’ Julia sighed, instinctively hugging her. ‘How did he take it?’

  ‘As you’d imagine. Shock, anger… Overall I think he was more sorry about being embarrassed in front of his guests and disappointing his mother, than any genuine sadness about splitting up with me.’

  ‘Well for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I’d have jacked in this job ages ago if it wasn’t for you. Jon and Valerie are a total nightmare!’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ Aimee wondered.

  ‘As a wedding planner, it’s really not my place to try and stop the wedding. It’s kind of counterproductive,’ Julia smiled. ‘Seriously though, are you okay?’

  ‘I will be,’ Aimee nodded.

  ‘If there’s anything you need, anything at all, just let me know.’

  ‘Um… there is one thing…’ Aimee began. Julia looked at her expectantly. ‘A lift to my parents’ house. I just gave Jon the keys for the Mercedes. Symbolic, but not very practical.’

  Julia burst into laughter. ‘Absolutely,’ she grinned. ‘It would be my pleasure. Come on, Runaway Bride. Let’s get you out of here.’

  36

  ‘My most brilliant achievement was my ability to persuade my wife to marry me’ – Winston Churchill

  The first strains of Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ creaked into life on the organ in the old country church, and the expectant congregation turned around in their seats, every eye focused on the ornate door through which the bride would make her entrance.

  Outside, on a brilliant, summer, sun-dappled afternoon, a beautiful young woman stood beside her father, aware that these were her final few moments as Miss Deborah Barlow. In approximately thirty minutes’ time, she would be Mrs Stephen Reid, and the happiest woman on earth.

  But this was no fantasy, from which Debbie would shake herself free in a few moments to discover the disappointment of being in her scruffy old bedroom. This was actually happening. It was her wedding day, and everything was even better than she’d dreamed.

  The weather was beautiful – not too hot, in a way that would make the guests swelter uncomfortably, and the bride perspire, in a distinctly un-bridal fashion, but with warm rays of sunshine that caressed her bare shoulders.

  Debbie was standing outside St Anne’s, the same parish church in which she’d been christened as a baby, in which she’d gone to midnight mass as a child, and which she’d recently rediscovered with Stevie, making a point of getting to properly know Father David before he bound the two of them in holy matrimony.

  On the pavement that ran past the church, a small crowd had gathered to watch and share in the happiness of the occasion. It didn’t matter that they were strangers – there was something pure and joyful about a beautiful bride in her gown on her wedding day.

  ‘Not long now,’ Angela winked.

  Debbie grinned back, as Angela fussed around her, making tiny adjustments to ensure that she looked perfect. She smoothed down a hair, where it had escaped from the intricate low bun at the nape of Debbie’s neck, and brushed away the tiniest speck of mascara from the corner of her eye.

  ‘Thanks Ange. I would hug you, but…’ Debbie gestured at her dress; crisp and white and certainly not made for spontaneous hugs – not at this stage of the day.

  ‘I understand. And you look absolutely stunning, Debs, you really do.’

  For once, Debbie believed it. She’d finally made it into her perfect wedding dress. Okay, so it might not have been a size ten, but the size twelve gown fit her to perfection, emphasising her newly slender figure and trim waist. It was an A-line cut in ivory satin, with a jewelled belt and a corset back, a chapel-length train trailing behind her. She’d paired it with a simple, pencil-edged veil, and in her bouquet were sweet-smelling, pale pink roses, cream hydrangeas, freesias and lisianthus. It was everything she’d ever wanted.

  Debbie’s father, Norman, turned to her, his face a mixture of nerves and pride and awe. He held out his arm for his daughter to take. ‘I think it’s time.’

  Debbie felt a sharp pang of nerves, and then it was as though all of her anxieties melted away, dissipating through her body, and leaving her perfectly calm, perfectly serene. She linked her arm through her father’s and took a deep breath as they stepped through the stone archway into the church.

  It took a second for Debbie’s eyes to adjust to the dimness of the interior after the brightness outside. When they did, she saw the familiar old church looking more beautiful than she’d ever known it. The florist – a friend of Julia’s called Linda, who ran a flower shop in the city centre – had done an incredible job of decorating it. Garlands of ivy were looped along the window frames, decorated with white orchid
s and spray roses, while posies hung from the end of every pew, illuminated by thin shafts of light piercing through the stained glass windows.

  As Debbie advanced down the aisle, the pipe organ ringing out in celebration, she passed her friends and relatives, all dressed up in their finery. She grinned at Gill, nodded at her friend, Alex, unable to keep the smile off her face. There was cousin Wendy in her big hat, and Auntie Jean crying into a handkerchief.

  Following behind her, all of Debbie’s bridesmaids were wearing her favourite shade of peach, but in different styles to fit their very different figures. Her two nieces, as flower girls, wore white with a peach sash, and carried baskets of peach and white petals.

  Debbie was vaguely aware of the photographer walking a few steps ahead, trying and failing to be unobtrusive as he snapped the pictures that would form the basis of her memories, and which she hoped in years to come she would share with her children and grandchildren.

  And right there, at the end of the aisle, was Stevie. He looked more handsome than she’d ever seen him, in his grey morning suit, with a cream-coloured waistcoat and peach tie. He couldn’t take his eyes off her; the expression on his face was pure love, and Debbie felt a lump rise in her throat, willing herself not to cry. She knew it was all pomp and ceremony and tradition, but right now she couldn’t think of anything more incredible than two people making vows to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives.

  As she finally reached her very-soon-to-be-husband, Debbie slipped her arm out from her father’s, and he and Stevie shook hands. From that moment on, it was as though no one else existed. Debbie and Stevie gazed at one another, mesmerised, as though surprised to suddenly find themselves all dressed up and about to get married.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Stevie whispered.

  For what was possibly the first time in her life, Debbie felt beautiful. And it was nothing to do with her size or shape or even the dress she was wearing. She felt radiant, buoyed up by the love in the room.

  ‘I love you,’ Debbie whispered back.

  They squeezed one another’s hands in a gesture of affection and reassurance, then turned to Father David. He was in his seventies and grey-haired, thin and a little stooped, but he’d known Debbie’s family for decades.

  ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony…’

  Time seemed to fly. Debbie was vaguely aware of the photographer snapping away, capturing their special day forever, and she felt grateful as the ceremony seemed to pass in a blur and she knew there was no way she would remember it all. Then the vows had been said, the rings exchanged, and the vicar was giving Stevie permission to kiss his new bride.

  Spontaneous applause broke out in the church, as Stevie gave her a tentative peck, then swept her backwards, movie-style, in his arms, as Debbie giggled joyfully and held him tightly, kissing him back for all she was worth.

  * * *

  ‘You did such a good job,’ Gill smiled, her hand in Mike’s as she came over to greet Julia. They were standing outside in the churchyard, as Debbie and Stevie assembled for photos with their friends and family, still smiling in wonder and delight at the novelty of being husband and wife.

  ‘Hopefully the reception will go without a hitch, too,’ Julia replied, as she accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. The Tythe Barn – Debbie and Stevie’s chosen reception venue – was a short way down the road, close enough for most of the guests to walk, and the staff had agreed to serve drinks in the field surrounding the church immediately after the ceremony.

  ‘I can’t wait to see what ours is going to be like,’ Gill grinned, giving Mike’s arm a squeeze. He looked a little uncomfortable in his smart suit, but Gill looked wonderful in the blue and white china-pattern dress she was wearing.

  ‘I’ve no idea what those kids of ours will have come up with,’ Mike said, shaking his head worriedly.

  ‘You’ll enjoy it, I promise you. They’ve done you proud.’ Julia assured them.

  Gill and Mike still didn’t know what their wedding reception would involve. They’d decided on a small registry office ceremony, with the children and close friends in attendance, but the reception was entirely out of their hands, planned by the kids and brought to fruition by Julia. The only thing Gill knew was that Sammy had extended an invitation to his favourite nursery assistant, Debbie, hence why Gill and Mike had been invited to Debbie’s wedding.

  ‘Doesn’t she look beautiful,’ Gill sighed, looking across to where Debbie was laughing joyously as a group of her friends covered her in confetti and the photographer snapped away. The fitted gown followed every movement of her figure as she walked, perfectly showing off her new shape.

  ‘She looks like a different woman,’ Julia remarked. ‘She’s completely transformed from the Debbie I met last year.’

  ‘I wish I’d had the willpower to do that,’ Gill said wistfully. ‘But with five kids, dieting’s the last thing on my mind.’

  ‘You don’t need to diet,’ Mike said, sounding outraged, as he pulled her to him, squeezing her waist. ‘You’re perfect just as you are.’

  ‘Aw, thanks.’ Gill kissed him. ‘You’re not so bad yourself. Do you know, I think I might marry you.’

  They nuzzled again, and Julia decided to let them have their moment. ‘I’ll catch up with you two later. I’ll go and give my congratulations to the other pair of lovebirds.’

  Julia headed off across the churchyard, her fuchsia chiffon dress swishing around her tanned legs. There were so many happy couples here today, she thought with a pang. It seemed silly, as she’d attended dozens of weddings with her job, but it still made her feel strange not to have Nick by her side on such a happy occasion. She was really missing him today, she realised, wondering when she’d suddenly got so sentimental.

  This past year since Jack had been born had been the most turbulent of Julia’s life – nothing could have prepared her for the upheaval that perfect little bundle would bring to both of their lives, or how much she could feel love for a brand new person. She simply couldn’t imagine her life without him now.

  But neither had she expected just how exhausted, anxious, and at times completely overwhelmed, she would feel. The feelings of failure she’d experienced in the early days, when she didn’t know how to stop Jack from crying, or even how to work the bottle steriliser, had severely knocked her confidence. Parenthood had been a massive learning curve, and she knew there were so many times when she’d been worried and irritable, taking her mood out on Nick or failing to see his side. But as they’d celebrated Jack’s first birthday a few weeks ago, they’d both been happy and loving, open with each other about how far they’d come and what still needed to be done in their relationship.

  Julia had promised Nick that once these weddings were out of the way, she’d find a babysitter for Jack and whisk her husband away to a hotel for the night, to show him exactly what he’d been missing out on recently.

  ‘Julia!’

  She turned to see Angela waving at her, and the two women embraced. ‘You look gorgeous, Ang. That colour really suits you. And wasn’t it a lovely ceremony?’

  ‘I was tearing up all the way through,’ Angela confessed. ‘Just knowing how hard Debbie’s worked to look like that, and it was all totally worth it. She looked so gorgeous. And speaking of gorgeous… have you met my date for the day?’

  Julia shook her head, then her mouth fell open in shock as Angela turned and grabbed the hand of a hot, blond guy. ‘You remember Matt, don’t you?’

  ‘Matt!’ Julia exclaimed, recalling the personal trainer from Debbie’s spa day. ‘Of course I do! How are you?’

  ‘Pretty good thanks,’ he grinned, gazing adoringly at Angela.

  ‘So how long have you two been… I mean when did you… How…?’

  ‘He got my email from the receptionist at the hotel, from when we made the booking,’ Angela grinned, her eyes sparkling. ‘How cool is that?’

&nbs
p; ‘I owe that girl a drink,’ Matt beamed, clearly smitten, as he wrapped his arm around Angela’s shoulder.

  ‘We’ve been together almost three months,’ Angela explained. ‘Which is something of a record for me.’

  ‘Who knows, we might be needing your services soon,’ Matt winked at Julia, as Angela looked shocked, then giggled delightedly.

  Julia heard a commotion behind her, and turned to see Debbie gliding across the churchyard towards them.

  ‘Julia, I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to talk to you,’ Debbie said breathlessly.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about it, today will be a whirlwind. You look beautiful, by the way.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Debbie smiled radiantly. She really was glowing, emanating pure happiness. ‘It feels amazing. Look!’ she cried, holding up her hand to show them the shiny new wedding band nestling below her engagement ring.

  ‘You’re married!’ Julia exclaimed, swept up in Debbie’s enthusiasm.

  ‘And I couldn’t have done it without you.’

  Julia waved away the praise. ‘Of course you could. But I was happy to help. You deserve to have a fantastic day.’

  ‘Can we have the bride and groom with the bridesmaids over here please,’ the photographer shouted. Debbie glanced across, seeing everyone beginning to gather for the photo.

  ‘I’d better go,’ she said apologetically to Julia, grabbing Angela and pulling her reluctantly away from Matt. ‘But we’ll catch up later, at the reception?’

  ‘Of course,’ Julia promised, as Debbie turned to go, her expression one of pure bliss, her veil billowing out behind her, caught by the gentle summer breeze.

  37

  ‘The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life’s major mysteries’ – Iris Murdoch

  ‘What’s that Jack? What is it? It’s a giraffe, isn’t it? Can you say “giraffe”?’