A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do: A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘Of course.’ Sadie handed over her business card. ‘My website is listed on there if you’d like to have a browse at some more samples of my work.’

  ‘Thank you. Hopefully we’ll see you again soon.’ I slipped the card into my handbag before Jared and I made our way towards the catering area at the back of the huge hall. We were the last to arrive, which meant we would be footing the bill – but then that was the least I could do after the help I’d received. There was no way Jared and I could have made our way around the fair on our own.

  ‘No cake for me, thanks,’ Erin said as I placed the order. She was looking a bit green after apparently overindulging in the sweet treats. But who could blame her? I’d have done the same.

  ‘So? How did you get on?’ I sat down at the table crowded with tea, coffee and cake. I couldn’t wait to find out what the others had discovered.

  ‘These sweet stations look pretty popular.’ Erin handed me her phone, where she’d taken photos of cute little carts filled with jars of sweets and tables laden with goodies. I loved the idea of a sweet station – it was certainly fun, which was what I was aiming for – but I did not love the prices.

  ‘Most of the wedding favours work out pretty expensive too.’ Casey handed over her phone, which displayed the snapshots she’d taken. ‘But I bet you could make some of them yourself much cheaper. Like this one.’ Casey reached over, swiping her finger over her phone until she reached a photo of a mini plant pot. ‘These are pots of herbs with the guest’s name printed on a tag. It’s a really simple idea if you think about it, but it looks so cute.’

  ‘I’m not sure we’d have time to grow herbs,’ I pointed out. Less than six weeks, people. ‘But I do like the idea of getting creative and making our own favours.’

  ‘How about this one?’ Casey swiped her finger across the screen again, pausing at a photo of a cupcake in a cellophane bag tied with pretty ribbon. The cupcake was covered in pink icing topped with a Love Heart sweet. ‘They look easy enough, and they’ll be pretty cheap to make. Plus, you can personalise each by attaching a tag to the ribbon.’

  It was certainly something to think about. ‘Thanks, everyone. You’ve been a great help. I feel more confident that we can have a fabulous wedding on a budget. Especially now we have the reception venue sorted out.’ I turned to Billy and told him about my meeting with Cosmo. Billy had been right about Cosmo offering us a fantastic deal. Plus, the restaurant would be perfect, as I wanted our wedding to be fun and informal and Cosmo’s had a lovely relaxed atmosphere. ‘Cosmo said there’ll even be room to squeeze a DJ or something in there.’ I’d already started to jot down a playlist in my notebook – mostly tracks by the Spice Girls and S Club 7, naturally.

  We finished off our cakes and decided to call it a day as we were all exhausted. We passed the fashion show taking part on the catwalk as we made our way to the exit – and that’s when I saw it. My dress. It was fifties-style, cut below the knee with a full, netted skirt, a halter-neck top made of ivory silk and overlaid with polka-dotted organza, and nipped in at the waist with a pink organza sash. I stood and stared at the dress. It was so me! I could picture myself wearing that dress, teamed with a pair of ivory peep-toe heels.

  ‘Quick!’ I called to the others. ‘Find that designer!’

  Twenty-Two

  Ruth

  As soon as Jared and I got back from the fair, I began updating the notes on my wedding plan spreadsheet, making sure I referenced all the photos Erin and the others had emailed over (FYI, my friends are amazing and super-duper-efficient). I had my own wedding file now – though it would never quite reach the proportions of Trina’s – to which I added the leaflets and business cards we’d collected. Jared was out at the pub with Gavin (discussing the important matter of the stag do, no doubt), so, at a loose end, I decided to pop over to Billy’s once I’d finished my task. We’d lived together for over a decade – in a non-sexual manner (apart from one, ill-judged encounter, which we both tried our hardest to forget) – and it was still strange not seeing him every day. Things had been a tad awkward between us after our little friendship mishap (aka our one-night stand. ‘Friendship mishap’ doesn’t sound quite so seedy), but that had been a couple of years ago and we’d soon sorted ourselves out. Our friendship was too important to throw away over a quick fumble.

  Being a Saturday evening, I was hoping that Theo and Casey would be out, being young and free, allowing Billy and me to have a proper catch-up without the others, but I was out of luck as the pair were at home. And, not only that, Quinn was there too.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I didn’t mean to sound quite so rude, but it was a surprise to see Quinn curled up on the sofa. She hadn’t even known Billy and Theo until she started joining in with our Beginner’s Guide nights a few months earlier.

  Quinn shrugged. ‘I just felt like hanging out. I haven’t been home since the fair.’

  ‘We can’t seem to get rid of her,’ Theo said. ‘We tried leaving the front door open as a hint but she didn’t take it.’

  Quinn unfurled herself. ‘I’ll go if you want me to.’

  ‘Nah, I like having fit birds around the place. It’s why I let Casey move in.’

  Quinn’s and Casey’s eyes met, rolling in sync. Theo was a good-looking bloke but his so-called charm needed a lot of work. Being an ex-housemate, I’d been privy to this information for a long time and didn’t know whether to be shocked or utterly devastated in humanity whenever Theo managed to convince a girl he was worthy of their time or – worse – their emotions.

  ‘Anyway.’ I decided to change the subject before Theo ended up wearing the contents of the open bottle of wine sitting precariously close to Quinn. ‘Did you guys think Jared was acting funny today?’

  ‘In what way?’ Billy asked.

  ‘He was very quiet while we were looking around the fair and he doesn’t seem to have an opinion on anything wedding-related.’

  ‘I don’t blame him.’ Theo stretched and scratched, not minding at all that he had an audience. ‘Being trapped with all that wedding crap would have any normal bloke running for the divorce courts.’

  ‘Why would he run for the divorce courts when they’re not even married yet?’ Quinn asked.

  Theo pulled a face. ‘Whatever. Just cut the bloke some slack. Men don’t get wet over weddings like you women do.’

  ‘You don’t think he’s changed his mind then?’ The wobbles were refusing to do one, no matter how much I willed them to bog off.

  ‘After today, it’s highly likely.’

  ‘Shut up, Theo,’ Billy, Casey and Quinn all cried.

  Billy turned to me. ‘Jared hasn’t changed his mind.’

  ‘He’s mad about you,’ Quinn added.

  ‘Do you really think so? Shut up, Theo.’ Seeing my ex-housemate open his mouth, I decided to cut him off, knowing that the words that were about to leave his mouth would be the most unhelpful – and possibly offensive – words he could think of. ‘You’ve never been in love, so your opinion doesn’t count.’

  ‘Have you really never been in love?’ Quinn asked.

  Theo shook his head, a smug look on his face. ‘But I have felt the love of many women.’ He winked at Quinn, and I felt a bit queasy.

  ‘Love and sex aren’t the same thing,’ she told him and a heated debate ensued. With Quinn’s uber-romantic view on life opposing Theo’s misogynistic piggish ways, I figured it could take a while before they burned themselves out so I took myself off to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

  ‘Jared loves you, you know.’ Billy joined me in the kitchen and hopped up to perch on the counter while I busied myself making tea and coffee. ‘He hasn’t changed his mind, I’m sure. Why would he?’

  ‘Bless you, Billy.’ I stretched out and gave his hair a ruffle. I could always count on Billy to make me feel better about myself. ‘How are things going between you and Casey?’

  ‘It’s going well. She’s a great housemate and we’ve got loads in com
mon. We’re going to the cinema tomorrow.’ He mentioned a comic-based film and I was suddenly immensely grateful that Casey was in our lives and I no longer had to endure those films with Billy myself.

  ‘Quinn and Theo seem to be getting on well too.’ I finished making the drinks and handed one to Billy. ‘You don’t think something’s going to happen between them, do you?’

  ‘I hope not.’ Billy hopped down from the counter. ‘There is a bit of flirting going on, but Theo will only use her until he gets bored.’

  ‘Which we both know won’t take long.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Billy lowered his voice as we started to head back into the sitting room. ‘Quinn’s too good for Theo.’

  ‘Way too good.’ We joined the others and settled in for a nice evening of chat and laughter. I felt much better by the time I left. My friends were right. Jared did love me. He wouldn’t have asked me to marry him if he didn’t.

  Jared’s love for me was cemented further in my mind as we stood in Mum and Dad’s front garden the following weekend, peering at the heap of crap that had once been a caravan. Dad’s chest was inexplicably puffed up with pride as he showed it off. Mum’s face was explicably pinched.

  ‘It’s nowhere near ready,’ she hissed at me as Dad wrestled with the rusted door. When it eventually opened, it almost came off altogether in Dad’s hands but he didn’t seem surprised that it was hanging off its hinges. ‘And he’s already bought a blasted treadmill and cross-trainer. They’re cluttering up my dining room. I nearly break my ankle every time I try to eat a meal. Look.’ She stuck out a slippered foot, revealing a heavily bruised calf. ‘You know, most men spend their spare time hiding from their wives down at the pub or chasing loose women, but your father has to tinker with this pile of junk.’

  ‘But you’d rather he was here with this.’ There really wasn’t any better way to describe the former caravan without resorting to insults. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

  Mum placed a hand on her forehead and emitted a weary sigh. ‘I don’t know, love. I really don’t.’

  ‘Are you coming in or not?’ Dad had bravely stepped into the caravan, but he’d stuck his head out when nobody had followed him. Jared braved the rickety old vehicle and I winced as he stepped over the threshold. ‘Careful there, Jared. The floor can be a bit unpredictable.’

  I peered around the doorway (I wasn’t brave or stupid enough to actually step inside myself) and had to hand it to Dad. He had optimism, that was for sure. Where Dad described the floor as unpredictable, I’d have described it as rusting and half-missing.

  ‘It’s a work in progress,’ Dad said.

  ‘A work in progress?’ Mum gave a hoot. ‘A work in progress?’

  I stepped back as Dad’s head popped out of the caravan. ‘Yes, Vee. A work in progress. A bit like your roast chicken. How many decades have you been working on that, and it still comes out as dry as a nun’s you-know-what?’

  ‘Well.’ Mum’s chest puffed out but I could tell by the stony expression on her face that it wasn’t with pride. I expected to see steam sputtering from her ears. ‘This is the first I’ve heard about it. Why haven’t you complained before if it’s so bad?’

  ‘Tact, dear. It’s called tact.’ Dad disappeared back inside his pride and joy while Mum marched back into the house, giving the door a good slam to show that she was royally pissed off.

  Yep, Jared must have really loved me to put up with this. Not only was he standing in the middle of a domestic between my parents without batting an eyelid, but he was doing so while risking his life in a rusty bucket on wheels. I checked. Yes, it did still have wheels.

  ‘Aren’t you going to go and say sorry?’ I popped my head back into the caravan. Good lord, there was a gaping hole in the corner. I could see next door’s cat licking his arse on the other side of the fence. ‘Mum looked really upset.’

  ‘She’s upset? What about me?’ Dad thumped a fist on his chest. ‘She puts my caravan down every day. Every minute of every day, in fact.’

  And who could blame her?

  ‘But she doesn’t have your vision, does she? She can’t see it how you do. All she sees is a load of rusty crap in her garden.’ As would any sane person. ‘She doesn’t have your artistic flair.’ Dad’s chest puffed up once more. ‘She won’t get it until it’s finished. Do you want to fight until then?’

  Dad shook his head. ‘Was I too harsh?’

  ‘It depends. Do you want Mum to cook for you ever again?’ Dad nodded. I don’t think he’d made more than a ham sandwich during their entire married life. ‘Then go and grovel. And make it good.’

  Dad rushed into the house while Jared stepped gratefully back onto solid ground.

  ‘Promise me one thing,’ I said as we headed back towards the house. ‘We’ll never end up like that when we’re married.’

  Jared slung an arm around my shoulders. ‘Cross my heart. I will never, ever tell you just how bad your cooking is.’

  I gave Jared a nudge, but I was relieved by his promise. If Jared was marrying me for my cooking skills, we’d never make it down the aisle.

  We found Mum in the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest as she looked down at Dad. The daft sod was actually on his knees on the lino.

  ‘Your chicken’s lovely, you know that. I was hurt and angry and lashing out. Please forgive me.’

  ‘Oh, get up, you fool.’ Mum grasped Dad by the collar and hauled him back up to his feet. ‘You’re making a show of yourself in front of Jared.’

  ‘I don’t care. I only care about your forgiveness.’

  Steady on, Dad. He was laying it on a bit thick.

  ‘Make me a cup of tea and I’ll think about it.’ Mum winked at me as she passed and I followed her into the sitting room while Dad leaped at the kettle. Mum and I settled down on the sofa while Dad clattered about in the kitchen, with Jared staying for moral support.

  ‘Stephen phoned last night,’ Mum told me. ‘They’ve booked the flights for the wedding. They won’t get here until the day before, though.’

  I would have liked more time to catch up with my brother before the wedding, but I was just glad he and his family could make it over from New York at such short notice. I’d been a bit worried that they wouldn’t make it, and I couldn’t imagine getting married without Stephen being there.

  ‘How are the wedding plans coming along?’ Mum asked. ‘Linda told me she’s making the cake. I didn’t know she baked.’

  ‘Yeah, she makes gorgeous cakes.’ The first time I’d tasted her chocolate cake, I’d wanted to move into Linda’s kitchen permanently. If I hadn’t already been smitten with Jared, I’d have fallen for him just for his mum’s cake. ‘Since when do the two of you chat?’

  ‘Since your engagement. We swapped numbers. It’s an important job being mothers to the bride and groom. We need to compare notes.’

  ‘Right.’ I wasn’t sure I quite approved of this new alliance. What if Mum mentioned the caravan/gym and Linda questioned what her son was marrying into?

  ‘So what else have you planned?’

  I updated Mum on the wedding fair and the cost-saving measures we were putting into place. As well as accepting Linda’s offer of a cake, I’d saved some much-needed cash by printing off invites at work while Kelvin dashed off for an ‘impromptu meeting’, which had clearly been a sneaky chocolate break. The Curly Wurly sticking out of his pocket had been a dead giveaway.

  ‘I’ll need some addresses for the invitations.’ I pulled out my notebook while Mum toddled off to locate her address book and I jotted down the contact details of our family. ‘Do I really have to invite Aunty Pat?’

  ‘Can you imagine the fallout if you didn’t?’

  Mum and I exchanged a glance before I scribbled down the address in my notebook. Great. It looked like I was inviting the Wicked Witch of the West after all.

  Twenty-Three

  Erin

  Sunday mornings were made for lengthy lie-ins or lazy sex or even propping yourself up with
pillows while you read the papers, if you were so inclined. Sunday mornings were not made for dragging your zombie-like carcass to a salon in the city centre. But that was exactly what Erin was doing.

  ‘You owe me. You do know that, don’t you?’ Erin scowled across at Richard, who was singing along to the radio as they drove along.

  ‘I owe you? It isn’t my wedding you’re practising for.’

  ‘No, but it is your sister’s.’ Erin slumped in her seat. She would rather be doing anything else right now. But mostly sleeping. Sleeping was good and healthy and didn’t have anything to do with Lindsay and her stupid wedding.

  ‘You can’t blame me for my sister’s lack of taste.’

  Erin could, and she would. ‘You don’t have to look so pleased about it, though.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Richard tried to keep a straight face, but failed. ‘I’m just excited about the game, that’s all.’

  After dropping Erin and LuLu off at the salon, Richard was taking Ralph to watch a rugby match, the lucky bastard. Erin didn’t follow rugby – she wasn’t a fan of any sport, no matter how hot the players were – but she’d take it up if it meant she could avoid the TOWIE-athon that was about to occur. The salon came into view, and it was far worse than Erin could ever have imagined. Nestled between a greasy-looking kebab shop and a closed-down pawnbrokers, the salon was overly pink with a bubble-gum neon sign with the word Sparkle glowing against the dull morning. The whole façade offended Erin’s eyes.

  ‘Please don’t make me go in there.’ Erin grasped hold of Richard’s arm, stretching her eyes to Bambi-like proportions. ‘I’ll come out orange.’

  ‘They’re only doing a trial run of your hair and make-up.’ Richard cut off the engine and unclasped his seatbelt. He hopped out of the car to open the passenger door for LuLu.