The Wedding Date

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘Yes, you’re absolutely right.’ I manage to fix a smile of some sort onto my face, which is convincing enough to allow Francesca to sit up straighter. ‘We’ve both moved on. I’m happy for Ben, really I am.’

  I won’t be telling Francesca the truth about my relationship status, whether it’s a watered down version or not. Project Wedding Date is back on. One way or another, I will have a boyfriend at that wedding.

  The only question is where to find one at such short notice?

  Chapter 22

  Turning Thirty

  Text Message:

  Delilah: Happy birthday! xxx

  Lauren: Don’t remind me! I’m 25. How did this happen??? In 5 years I’ll be 30. Ugh. I’m getting old, Delilah. Wrinkly. I already have a frown line and I’m sure I saw a grey hair glinting at me in the mirror yesterday

  Delilah: I should have got you a walking stick for your birthday. Or incontinence pads

  Lauren: I’m (quite literally) pissing myself. NOT

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  Lauren, Ryan and I are standing outside Clara’s flat waiting to be buzzed in when Lauren asks the question that we all know the answer to. We all knew the answer as soon as I came up with the suggestion. The revolted look on my face was all anybody needed to know, but these are desperate times. With Francesca’s wedding just three months away, what choice do I have? I’m going to extreme measures but I don’t feel I have any other option. This is no longer about making Ben jealous and him begging me to take him back (a fantasy, I will admit now, I have been enjoying over the past couple of months). With a baby on the way, this is purely about saving face. Proving to Ben that I too have moved on with my life and haven’t spent almost a year pining for him.

  Which we all know I have, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  ‘I’d rather eat a bucket of live rattle snakes,’ I tell my friends with a shrug. ‘But what else can I do?’

  I’ve seen the photos of Ben and his (ugh) pregnant fiancée. I broke every breakup rule in history and had a snoop on Ben’s Facebook. I saw the engagement photo, which depicted Ben grinning next to a stunning, leggy blonde (you can’t actually see her legs in the photo, but she looks the type. You know, absolutely perfect in every single way). Between them was a large piece of white card with the words ‘We’re Engaged!’ scrawled across it. They look so blissfully happy (and a little bit cheesy) as they beam at the camera, pleased with themselves and their love.

  Obviously I couldn’t stop there. I had a good old snoop at Ben’s photos: Ben and Eden sitting in a park with Mr Whippy ice creams, Ben and Eden on a barge, Ben and Eden wandering in the woods, clad in wellies and cagoules. And then there are the photos of just Eden. So many photos of just Eden. Ben seems to have his finger stuck on the shutter button on his phone, snapping away constantly to capture every single moment of his girlfriend’s life.

  Ugh.

  And the killer: the pregnancy announcement. They’d shared their news by posting a selfie of the couple in a darkened hospital room. Eden was lying on a bed with Ben pointing at her bare stomach while grinning like a caricature of the boyfriend I once knew.

  ‘You could always not go to the wedding,’ Ryan says now. ‘It isn’t like Francesca is a great friend of yours any more. You barely see each other, so what difference will it make?’

  ‘It’ll make a difference to me. I want Ben to see that I’ve moved on, that I’m happy and don’t need him.’

  Even though I’m not and I do.

  I press the intercom outside Clara’s flat and we’re buzzed in. Today is Clara’s thirtieth birthday and she’s hosting a party. She said I could bring a friend, so I’ve been greedy and brought two. Clara won’t mind – it’ll make her look more popular in front of her friends and colleagues.

  ‘Thank you for coming!’ Clara pulls me into a hug as soon as I step over the threshold, which is all for show as I don’t think she has ever hugged me before in my life.

  ‘Happy birthday.’ I peel myself away and hand Clara the gift bag I’ve brought along containing a card and a bath set that won’t be expensive or pretentious enough for my sister. But it’s the thought that counts, right? ‘Mum and Dad are on their way. They’re picking up one of Justin’s friends.’

  ‘It isn’t Riley, is it?’ Clara looks a bit panicked and I don’t blame her. The last time Justin’s best friend came to her flat, he stole one of her Agent Provocateur bras and posted on Facebook that he’d done unmentionable things while wearing it. ‘Graham!’ Clara stalks off towards her boyfriend, leaving us hovering by the door. ‘Graham, quick! Lock the bedroom door!’

  Clara’s sitting room is already pretty full. I recognise a couple of faces from the tedious dinner parties Clara has forced me to attend but they’re mostly strangers to me.

  ‘Which one’s Patrick then?’ Lauren asks, scanning the room. I’ve told Lauren and Ryan how dull and slimy Patrick is, but that could describe a number of Clara and Graham’s friends.

  ‘I can’t see him.’ I take another quick look, but nope, there’s no sign of him. ‘Maybe he’s not coming.’ My voice is a mix of hope and disappointment. Maybe I won’t have to do the terrible thing I’m contemplating after all.

  But then what?

  ‘Let’s go and get a drink.’ I lead my friends into Clara’s kitchen. The counter is filled with every conceivable bottle of spirits, the fridge is stocked with wine, Prosecco and bottled lager and the table is full of delicate canapés. There isn’t an egg and cress sandwich or sausage roll in sight and I doubt those tiny, twirly bits of pastry are going to be particularly filling. We’ll have to grab a kebab on the way home.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m not being a very good host, am I?’ Clara bustles into the kitchen and starts to fill glasses. ‘Do help yourself to nibbles.’ I pick up what appears to be a tiny cardboard rectangle covered in cream cheese with a thin slice of salmon arranged on top. ‘Have you seen Patrick yet? He’s been asking after you all evening. He’s definitely taken a shine to you, you know.’ Clara elbows me playfully and raises her eyebrows. I drop the cardboard and cream cheese canapé back onto the platter. It didn’t look very tempting to begin with and I’ve completely lost my appetite now.

  ‘Patrick’s here?’ Again, my voice is a mix of hope and disappointment.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Clara hands Ryan a glass of lager (drinking from the bottle is a big no-no at Clara’s place). ‘He was in the office last time I saw him. Graham’s having a bit of trouble accessing the internet so Patrick’s having a tinker.’ Clara grabs an open bottle of red wine and pours a glass for Lauren and I. ‘You will go and say hello, won’t you? He’s a lovely chap and you could do so much worse.’

  I could do so much better, but beggars can’t be choosers when you only have a matter of weeks to bag yourself a boyfriend to shove in your ex’s smug face.

  Clara hands the glasses of red wine to me and Lauren but I decline and grab a bottle of lager from the fridge instead. I refuse the offer of a glass too and, as an extra, mean measure, I grab a straw from the chrome pot on the counter and plonk it into the neck of the bottle and take a sip while Clara glares at me. It isn’t Clara’s fault that I feel my only option is to date Patrick (ugh) and make everyone think he’s my boyfriend at the wedding (double ugh) but I’m blaming her for having such slimy friends. Why can’t she have any hot, fun friends who are smitten with me?

  The intercom buzzes so, giving me and my straw once last glare, Clara marches from the room.

  ‘So let’s go and meet this Patrick then.’ Lauren links her arm through mine and guides me out of the safety of the kitchen and towards the lion’s den that is Clara and Graham’s office.

  The office is set up in the flat’s tiny second bedroom. There is just enough room for a desk and chair, a tall, slim bookcase and a small cabinet that houses the printer and paper supply. Patrick is sat at the desk with his back to us as we open the door and enter. He jerks up from his hunched position when he hears u
s, quickly closing the browser but not before we’ve all got an eyeful of a giant, naked breast with the pointiest nipple I have ever seen.

  ‘The internet’s working again then,’ Ryan mutters and Lauren stifles a giggle beside him.

  Patrick opens the browser again, typing in an innocent website address before he swivels around in his chair. ‘Delilah, hi! I didn’t see you there.’

  ‘That’s because you were too busy watching porn,’ Lauren mutters out of the corner of her mouth while smiling inanely at Patrick.

  ‘Hello Patrick.’ I shuffle forward slightly, moving to within just inches of Patrick, fighting every instinct that is telling me to turn around and run, abandoning my plan to seduce Patrick (ugh) altogether. ‘Clara said I’d find you in here.’

  ‘You’ve been looking for me?’ Patrick cocks an eyebrow and gives his hair a flick in what he assumes is a sexy pose. It is not.

  ‘Yes.’ I shuffle forward a fairy step more. ‘The thing is, Patrick…’ I pause, willing myself to say the words. Just ask him out on a date and then it will be over with. For now. ‘The thing is…’

  For goodness’ sake, just spit it out, Delilah! Ask him and deal with the consequences later.

  Patrick waits. And waits some more. ‘What is the thing?’

  ‘The thing is.’ I take a deep breath. I have to do this. It’s the only way to save face with Ben and his sprogged up fiancée. ‘I was wondering if –’

  I don’t get the chance to say the horrid words I was struggling to spit out as I’m suddenly entwined in a pair of strong arms. Patrick looks on in bewilderment as Ryan takes me by the shoulders, spins me around to face him and plants a great big smooch on my lips.

  Chapter 23

  Her New Boyfriend

  Text Message:

  Ryan: How soon is too soon when it comes to declaring somebody your boyfriend?

  Delilah: I don’t know. It depends

  Ryan: Yvette just introduced me as her boyfriend. This is our second date

  Delilah: Yep, that’s WAY too soon

  Ryan: Code Red?

  Delilah: I’m on it. Your granny’s about to take a tumble down the stairs

  Ryan: Poor granny

  I’ve kissed Ryan before, years and years ago when we were just kids messing about with an empty bottle and a belly full of cheap cider. I’d already kissed Smelly Peter that evening (who wasn’t actually smelly any more but had retained his odorous nickname through to high school) and would later snog Hugh McDonald and Mal Turner (who I’d dreamed about kissing since the Year eight Christmas disco). So kissing Ryan during spin the bottle hadn’t been a big deal. Now, however, kissing Ryan was a very big deal because I didn’t know what the hell was going on.

  Placing my palms on Ryan’s chest, I gave him a shove but instead of springing away shamefacedly while spluttering an apology, Ryan clamped his arms around me and pulled me close.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he whispered against my earlobe. ‘I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend.’

  Oh! I see! For a moment there I’d thought my best friend had gone completely cuckoo but he’s actually being a gentleman (there’s a first time for everything, eh?). This is even better than the Patrick plan because I don’t have to pretend to like the slimy toad! I already like Ryan – platonically, obviously – and he knows the deal with Ben and the wedding. This is actually perfect!

  ‘The thing is, Patrick.’ I disentangle myself from Ryan’s arms and turn to Patrick, who’s looking up at us from the office chair with a bewildered expression. Although his face is all scrunched up, it’s infinitely more attractive than his slimy resting face. ‘Have you met my boyfriend?’ I rest my head on Ryan’s shoulder and give a dreamy sigh.

  ‘Um, no. No I haven’t.’ Patrick clears his throat. ‘Clara never mentioned you had a boyfriend.’

  ‘Didn’t she?’ I tilt my head so that I’m facing Ryan and we both laugh. ‘How silly of Clara!’

  ‘Yes. Rather.’ Patrick clears his throat again. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go and find Graham. Let him know his computer is in tip top shape again.’

  ‘More like tit top shape,’ Ryan whispers as Patrick flees the office, scuttling past Lauren who’s still standing in the doorway and looking rather shocked by the events that have just unfolded in front of her. She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the doorframe, awaiting some sort of explanation.

  ‘What’s just happened here, guys?’

  I realise my head is still resting on Ryan’s shoulder and straighten up. ‘Ryan’s going to pretend to be my boyfriend. I’ll take him to Francesca’s wedding and we can pretend to be in lurve.’ I bat my eyelashes at Ryan and giggle. ‘It’s so perfect. I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.’

  I’m so relieved that I don’t have to endure any more dates – and with Patrick – that I could weep. Ryan is my knight in shining armour and I will be eternally grateful.

  ‘Why did you just think of it?’ Lauren asks Ryan. ‘You’ve had weeks to offer your services. Why now?’

  Ryan thrusts his thumb in the direction Patrick has scarpered to. ‘I’m not going to let our Delilah go out with him. He was watching porn at a party! Who does that?’

  Lauren narrows her eyes. ‘Do you fancy Delilah? Is this your way of worming your way in? You want to be more than friends. Is that it?’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Ryan grabs me and pulls me in close. ‘Delilah’s my mate. Nothing more.’ He rubs his knuckles against my skull until I squirm away. ‘I’m helping out, that’s all.’

  ‘If you’re sure…’ Lauren’s eyes remain narrowed slits.

  ‘I’m positive. Truly, absolutely positive.’

  Lauren pushes herself off the doorframe and shrugs. ‘That’s good enough for me.’

  ‘And me.’ I get my own back by ruffling Ryan’s perfectly styled hair. ‘Thank you. I owe you.’

  Ryan shrugs. ‘You’re actually doing me a favour too. If Mum thinks we’re dating, it’ll get her off my back for a bit.’ Ryan grins at me, completely satisfied with his master plan.

  ‘We’re going to tell people we know about this?’

  Ryan’s smile dims. ‘There’s no need to look so appalled. I’m a pretty good catch.’

  ‘If you say so…’

  ‘Tell her, Lauren. Tell her how handsome and charming I am.’ Ryan puts his arm on Lauren’s shoulder and pulls her in towards his chest. ‘You wouldn’t be ashamed to date me, would you?’

  ‘Pur-lease.’ Lauren rolls her eyes. ‘I’d rather date Porno Patrick than you, mate.’

  ‘I think the lady doth protest too much.’ Ryan squeezes Lauren and drops a kiss on top of her head. ‘I think the lady wants me. Badly.’

  ‘The lady thinks you stink of BO.’

  Ryan drops Lauren like a hot potato and gives his pits a good sniff. ‘I do not. Delilah, do I smell?’ Ryan looms towards me, arm held up in the air as he aims his pit at my nose. I hop away just in time.

  ‘No, Ryan, you do not smell.’ I’m not saying this just to be kind; Ryan has very good hygiene practices.

  ‘I was kidding.’ Lauren puts herself between us and takes each of our hands. ‘Come on, let’s go back to the party. I left my drink in the kitchen and I need something to block out the image of you two snogging.’

  Lauren leads us out of the little office and into the sitting room, which is en route to the kitchen and Lauren’s glass of wine. Clara sees us enter the room and pounces, with Graham and Patrick following closely behind.

  ‘You and Ryan are together?’ My sister asks the question like I’ve just announced my intention to marry a poodle, her voice loud with a mixture of horror and intrigue. ‘Since when?’

  ‘It’s quite a recent thing.’ I keep my voice low. Clara’s dramatic swoop has caused several heads to turn in our direction, including Mum and Dad’s. I know Ryan wants to tell the world, but I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.

  ‘I thought you were dating that other guy.’ Clara waves her
hand about. ‘What was his name?’

  ‘Ricky,’ Graham – unhelpfully – pipes up.

  ‘I told you it was recent,’ I say weakly.

  ‘Who is Ricky?’ Patrick is not at all impressed that I not only have a boyfriend but some sort of ex lurking too. I wouldn’t label Ricky an ex personally, but Patrick doesn’t know we only went on two dates.

  ‘He’s someone I’d rather not talk about, thank you very much,’ Ryan says rather pompously and I have to press my lips together pretty tightly to stop myself from giggling. Lauren isn’t having as much success as I am and is giggling into her palm.

  ‘What’s going on here?’

  All my giggles vanish the instant I hear Mum’s voice. She’s striding across the room with Dad tagging along.

  ‘Delilah and Ryan are an item.’ Clara’s poodle-marriage voice is back.

  ‘But Ricky only dumped her a few days ago,’ Mum says.

  ‘Mum!’ What is it with my family and their annoying unhelpfulness?

  ‘Never mind Ricky.’ Ryan, quite masterfully, takes me in his arms and dips me slightly. ‘Delilah is with me now.’ To prove his point, Ryan dips his head and snogs the life out of me. It’s quite breath-taking and if it wasn’t my best friend on the other end of those lips, I might have enjoyed it.

  ‘Blimey.’ Patrick takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and mops his brow. I can’t help wondering who actually carries cotton handkerchiefs these days. And what else he’s been mopping up with it this evening.

  ‘Oh my.’ Mum looks flustered but thrilled at the display Ryan has put on. ‘Look at that, Raymond. Delilah and Ryan. Didn’t I tell you they were perfect for each other?’

  She did? Eww.

  ‘You certainly did.’ Dad nods effusively. ‘I thought it was a load of hokum but look at the two of them. They’re in love. You can see it a mile off!’

  Can you? I sincerely hope not.

  ‘You can, can’t you?’ Mum looks like she’s about to cry. I can’t blame her. I want to cry too. ‘I’m so pleased for you. For both of you.’ She reaches out and squeezes both of our shoulders. ‘You make a smashing couple. You really do.’ Mum gives a sniff and excuses herself before going off in search of a tissue.