by Fiona Gibson
And now she’s the one glaring as it all pours out: ‘Met these girls … works in the café… fancied Pete … nothing happened, I promise … really uncomfortable … all Pete’s idea …’ She knows she should cut in and yell, ‘Don’t try and blame it all on Pete! You were aiding and abetting …’ But as the words form in her mind, she almost laughs at how ridiculous they’d sound: aiding and abetting? Who has she turned into – the sodding police?
‘I’m sorry, Sadie,’ he says now, coming towards her and holding her tight, burying his face in her hair.
‘God, I’m so sorry too,’ she says as they kiss long and hard, unaware of the two pairs of large brown eyes fixed intently on them.
SEVENTY-FOUR
Early on the morning of Hannah and Ryan’s wedding, Sadie and Barney take the boys for a walk round Hissingham Park. The wedding is at two, and they are leaving the babies with Barney’s parents overnight. Both Sadie and Barney are feeling a little edgy about the prospect, despite Barney’s mother reassuring them that their home is now fully baby-proofed with an impressive assortment of guards and gates.
They are so busy running through the list of things they mustn’t forget to take that they don’t notice Magda across the park. She is walking her dog and stops to watch them, never having seen them out together before. Magda knows, of course, that Barney is married because she sees his wife every Monday and Friday through the café windows, pushing the buggy in all weathers. She’s served her coffee, offered to warm the boys’ bottles and seen her gamely trying to breastfeed her babies on a park bench, making a mental note to perhaps delay becoming a mother herself for as long as humanly possible.
What is it with men? she reflects. Why the pretence of being a single dad? Magda hadn’t told Barney that she’d met his wife, as she was interested to see if he’d mention her. And of course he didn’t. Even when she praised him, jokingly, for coping all by himself, he didn’t correct her then either. She chuckles to herself. It was pathetic really – although he doesn’t strike her as some kind of would-be playboy, not like Pete, who has yet to realise that Amy’s flirty texting will lead him precisely nowhere.
Barney and his wife are hugging now. Well, that’s nice, Magda thinks, starting to walk again as her dog pulls on the leash. Perhaps it’s not all over when you have kids. Magda checks her watch. She’s due to meet her boyfriend – the twenty-year-old photography student who, it seems, cannot take enough pictures of her. Taking a big lungful of morning air and seeing him waiting for her at the gates, she smiles and waves, her dog straining so hard now he’s pulling her along towards him.
‘That’s a really nice dress,’ Daisy says, observing Hannah from the bedroom doorway.
‘Thanks,’ Hannah says. ‘Come on in. You don’t have to stand there at the door.’
‘Where’s Dad?’ Daisy asks, glancing around furtively as if half-expecting something or someone to bounce out at her.
‘He’s upstairs, getting dressed.’
‘What, in your studio?’
‘Yes,’ Hannah laughs. ‘He’s been banished to the attic. No, actually, he offered – said he’d give me some space to get ready. You know, the bride and groom aren’t really supposed to spend the night before their wedding together.’
Daisy frowns. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know really. Just superstition, I guess, like not getting married in a red dress.’
‘What’s wrong with a red dress?’
‘Nothing,’ she laughs. ‘Anyway, I don’t believe any of that. I knew this was the dress for me as soon as I saw it – before I’d even tried it on.’
‘It’s a lot nicer than the other one,’ Daisy agrees.
Hannah turns and gives her a quizzical look. ‘Did you sneak a look at it in my wardrobe?’
Daisy nods, her cheeks flushing pink. ‘Yeah.’
‘I don’t mind. It’s pretty frumpy, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, a bit.’
‘It made me look like a fat nurse,’ she sniggers, and Daisy laughs too.
‘I don’t think you’re fat.’
‘Thanks, Daisy,’ Hannah says with a smile. ‘I don’t think so either. The dress just wasn’t very flattering. Yours is lovely, though – d’you feel good in it?’
‘I love it,’ she declares, looking down and appraising the bold stripes.
‘It really suits you. You look beautiful.’
‘So do you, Han,’ Lou says, wandering into the bedroom. ‘You both look stunning.’
‘Did you make Hannah’s tiara?’ Daisy asks.
‘Yes, I did. D’you like it?’ Lou perches on the edge of the bed near Daisy’s printed-out story.
‘I really do. D’you sell them in shops?’
‘I used to,’ Lou explains, ‘and I’m going to start again. I was working on some new ideas last week and I’m going to make them up when I get home. I’ve even found a couple of shops to stock them, and I’m going to update my website.’
‘That’s great, Lou,’ Hannah smiles.
‘D’you think Dad would buy me one?’ Daisy asks, fixing her gaze on Hannah.
‘Oh, I’m sure we could sort out something, couldn’t we, Lou? It’s Daisy’s birthday in three weeks’ time.’ She glances at Daisy. ‘You haven’t told us what you’d like yet.’ Told us. She’s said it, and it feels just right.
‘Well, that’s what I’d like,’ Daisy says firmly. ‘I don’t mean a little girlie tiara like princesses wear …’
‘No, you’re too grown-up for that,’ Lou agrees. ‘That’s not the kind of jewellery I make anyway.’
‘I mean a proper tiara, just like Hannah’s,’ she says with a grin.
Johnny and Cal take a cab from Felix’s flat, where they stayed last night, to Hackney Registry Office. Felix will meet them there after setting up at the bar, making sure everything is just so. Hannah, Daisy, Josh and Lou are travelling together in her boss Michael’s bright orange vintage Saab; Ryan tried to persuade his kids to come with him and Jack, his old college friend and best man, but they wouldn’t hear of it. ‘Imagine having a driver,’ Josh keeps saying. ‘Wouldn’t that be the best thing – being able to go anywhere you like?’
Having left their overnight bags in the hotel, Sadie and Barney climb into a black cab, while Hannah’s parents have arrived at the registry office far too early and are wondering if that smart-looking couple might be Ryan’s mum and dad, and whether they should go over and say hello. They are relieved when more people start arriving – first Ryan and the best man, then a group of Ryan’s colleagues from the ad agency and a bunch of excitable women from Hannah’s design company.
There’s Sadie and Barney and some funny-looking blond man who could have got a haircut before the wedding, and now their daughter is here, looking stunningly beautiful as she steps out of an orange car and hurries over to hug them before mingling with the group. Rose, Hannah’s mother, swallows hard and tries to steady her breath.
Ryan’s children are chatting to Hannah now, both looking very smart, and there’s Lou, the one who makes jewellery, wearing a dazzling flowery frock. Rose vaguely remembers the tall man who looks like he’s with her, and thinks he lived upstairs from the girls in Glasgow. She sees his son, who’s the spitting image of him, march over and start talking to Daisy, who looks a little startled.
People keep coming, some with babies and toddlers, the adults all kissing and hugging each other before filing into the building. Once inside, Rose can focus on her daughter properly. She is so overawed by the sight of the beautiful bride in the stunning red dress that she is unable to speak. She sees Ryan glancing at Hannah, perhaps a little taken aback by how different she looks today – so radiant and self-assured. Hannah smiles at Ryan, a big, broad smile which says she’s ready for this, and that it promises to be the best day of her life.
Hannah’s mother is conscious of her husband squeezing her hand as she takes her seat at the front, but she can’t look at him now; she knows it’ll set her off if she does. Instead, she
fixes her gaze upon the couple standing before her as the wedding begins.
Read on for Fiona’s tips for a
perfect girlie weekend away
Fiona’s perfect girlie weekend away
The Great Escape was inspired by my love of a girlie weekend away. In the book, Hannah, Sadie and Lou have very different reasons for craving a bit of respite from everyday life, and I’m convinced that a couple of days with your best girlfriends can be a real sanity saver. Of course, escaping with your partner and family is wonderful too, and I cherish the two weeks each summer when the five of us go away together. But there’s something about being with old friends – the ones who’ve known me for decades – that lifts the spirits in a different way.
Of course, there are different types of girlie weekend, and the key to making yours a success is matching the right kind of break to the right people. Here are some of my favourites.
The wild one: Throughout my twenties I worked on teenage and women’s magazines, in offices staffed with lovely people who I still count as my closest friends now, twenty years on. Back then, we were all footloose (and, crucially, child-free) and would hop over to buzzy cities like Dublin, Florence, Paris and Berlin whenever funds allowed. I have to admit that these weren’t exactly cultural trips. Once, on our ferry journey home from Amsterdam, a man marched over to where we were sitting, feeling a little fragile, and barked, ‘Not so bloody lairy now, are you?’
‘No,’ we whimpered. It’s safe to say that we hadn’t seen the inside of any museums on that trip.
The restorative one: Ah, how times change. I might no longer be up for dancing all night but I still love getting together with my friend Jen, and wallowing in the bubbly rooftop pool of an Edinburgh spa. It’s our once-a-year treat where we indulge in a bit of ‘life planning’, talking about where we’re headed and what changes, if any, we’d like to make to our lives – all that life-coachy stuff you can pay a fortune for. It’s a brilliant head clearer and puts a smile on my face for weeks afterwards.
The mums and kids one: As I write this, I’ve just come back from one of these weekends – complete chaos with three women and seven kids in a house we rented in Norfolk. There are always several small disasters – on one trip, unbeknown to us, one of the younger members of our party used the holiday house phone to call 118118 (120 times!) to ask ‘the lady’ to marry him. Quite reasonably, we were presented with the phone bill to pay a few weeks later. This time, one of my sons accidentally pierced a radiator in the games room with a dart, causing the dramatic spurting of water and frantic calls to a plumber. Luckily, there’s been no bill for that one … yet.
The get-over-heartbreak one: After a big break-up I took myself off to Barcelona with a friend, which worked wonders to set me back on track. It’s a bit like having a drastic haircut when a relationship ends – you just want things to look and feel a bit different. When I came back, the flat we’d once shared no longer seemed like a sad little place. Barcelona is one of those cities where you can kick up your heels if you want to, but also have a more mellow time exploring and browsing.
The just-because one: As you grow older, you often find that close friends are scattered all over the country. Even phonecalls are tricky these days – most of us work full time and have families, and even emailing falls by the wayside. When I lived in London, I’d get together with friends whenever I liked. Since we moved to Scotland thirteen years ago, it’s taken a little more planning – which is where the ‘just-because’ girlie weekend comes in. It’s a brilliant way to enjoy a big chunk of time together, and I love it all – from late nights spent chatting, to lazy breakfasts over a pot of coffee, to exploring during the day. It brings everyone together again and it’s so much more satisfying than a speedy drink after work. In fact, I think I’ll plan another one right now …
Acknowledgements
Enormous thanks to Caroline Sheldon and Bryony Woods, and to Sammia Rafique and the super-talented team at Avon. Thanks to Margery and Keith for unfailing support, and to my lovely friends Jen, Kath, Cathy, Michelle, Marie, Cheryl, Carolann and Fliss for always being there. Every two weeks, I get together with Tania, Vicki, Amanda, Sam and Hilary – I’m lucky to belong to such a brilliant, boosting writing group. Above all, a million thanks to my wonderful family. Jimmy, Sam, Dex and Erin – I love you more than words can say.
About the Author
Fiona Gibson is an author and journalist who has written for many UK publications including the Observer, the Guardian, Red and Marie Claire. She also writes a monthly column for Sainsbury’s magazine.
Fiona lives in Scotland with her husband, their twin sons and daughter. She likes to run, draw, walk the dog, play her sax, watch cheesy movies and lie in a bubble bath with the door firmly locked. To find out more, visit www.fionagibson.com.
By the same author:
Babyface
Wonderboy
Lucky Girl
Mummy Said the F-word
Stories We Could Tell
Mum On The Run
ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE A NOVEL?
Kick-start your future best seller with Fiona Gibson’s top 10 tips …
1. Discover your voice. Every writer needs to find their own ‘voice’ – a way of telling a story that feels natural and is compelling for the reader. The best way to do this is to not to think about it too much, but to write as often as you can, in various styles, until you land upon the one that feels right for you. Even if you don’t have much spare time, an hour a day spent at your laptop (or with notebook and pen) will bring on your writing in leaps and bounds.
2. To plan or not to plan …? I don’t tend to plot a book in too much detail as I like the feeling that things can take a different or surprising turn at any stage. It keeps the process interesting and fun. But having an outline does act as a sort of security blanket – I need to know what main events will be, and usually how the story will end.
3. Don’t share your work too early. I suspect that most of us ask friends to read our work because we feel insecure and want the boosting effect of praise. If a friend expresses some doubts about it, it can really knock your confidence – yet, if they’re wildly enthusiastic, you might think they’re just being kind. Try not to crave reassurance as you write your book. No one has to see it until it’s ready, or as good as you can possibly make it. I used to share early chapters with the writing group I belong to, but I’m less keen these days – it feels too private.
4. Set a word count target – say, 500 or 1000 words a day. Treat your writing as a job, making yourself sit down and get started instead of fiddling about on Amazon or tidying your desk.
5. Don’t sweat over the details. If you’re awash with self-doubt, remind yourself that a first draft can be as rough as anything as that’s all it is – a draft. No one’s going to break into your house, have a sneaky read of it and fall about laughing. Also, I’d suggest writing this first draft fairly swiftly, rather than getting bogged down in details at this stage. I try to get a first draft written in six months or so, then I go back and edit it twice or even three times. Keep pressing on, getting the story down – it’s what gives a story its momentum. You can always go back and fix those tentative early chapters at a later date.
6. If you’re having a confidence crisis … read writers who inspire you, go for walks with your notebook or sit in cafes and eavesdrop. Getting published might seem daunting but publishers do want great books, and agents want great authors – it’s how they make a living, after all. I don’t believe it’s a case of ‘who you know’ in book publishing. If an editor happens to love your book, then they’ll buy it, hopefully!
7. Write when you’re most productive. We all have times of day when the words flow more easily, so whether it’s early in the morning before your family wakes up, or in the wee small hours late at night, use this time to move your book forward.
8. Enter writing competitions. Short story comps are a great way to hone your writing, work on your voice a
nd style and possibly even net a prize. Most importantly, the closing date acts as a deadline, ensuring that you finish your story on time.
9. Create a support system. While I’m not keen on sharing a book I’m working on – my editor’s usually the first one to read it – I do enjoy the company of other writers. The group I belong to has a mixture of professional writers and others who write purely for enjoyment, and our areas range from historical fiction to bonkbusters and poetry. We do writing tasks together, and critique each others’ work – it’s hugely helpful and stops me feeling isolated.
10. Finally, try to enjoy your writing. You can often tell when a piece of writing has been literally squeezed out – the best writing generally feels effortless. So try to write what feels natural and enjoyable to you. Likewise, I don’t believe in looking for gaps in the market or consciously trying to create the ‘next big thing’, as it’s impossibly to tell what people will want to read next. I prefer to go by my own gut feelings, and if what I’m writing seems to flow entertainingly, then hopefully my readers will think so too.
Fiona Gibson Q&A
What items couldn’t you live without?
A notebook and pen. I’m a notebook obsessive and have dozens for all different purposes: plotting books, writing lists and scribbling notes on how I plan to be a better, fitter, healthier and more productive person (which, I have to admit, never quite works out – things rarely progress any further than the notes stage!). My other must-have item is a cafetiere – I drink way too much coffee, about a pint in the morning, to kick-start my brain. I’d also find it hard to get by without my trainers (for running), a bottle of posh bubble bath or bath oil for a soothing soak at night, and music – I have something playing all day as I hate writing in silence (Bon Iver and Fleet Foxes are current faves).