Confessions of an Essex Girl

by Becci Fox

  I wasn’t really enjoying the dancing either, because you know that staring man from my table? He was stood on the edge of the floor nursing a pint and properly eyeballing me. Maybe that pulling technique works wherever he’s from, but in Essex, that’s considered creepy. I was desperate to get out of his gaze, so I went up to Gemma and said, ‘Karen’s being so nuts. I’m actually too scared to stop dancing in case she has a go at me again,’ and Gemma replied, ‘Babe, why do you think I’ve been dancing for the last half-hour? I just want to go get a drink. If she doesn’t chill out, we’re going to fall out.’

  When Karen wasn’t watching, we both made a run for it. About an hour later, I caught Karen outside texting on her phone. So I thought, let’s see how she likes it, and went, ‘Oi, what the fuck you doing out here? The dance floor’s empty,’ and she goes, ‘I’m sexting, aren’t I?’

  She’d well and truly outdone me because I had no answer to that. You can’t compete with a sexting mentalist.

  If all this merriness wasn’t enough, I then had to contend with a molestation. I was stood on the side of the dance floor innocently taking pictures of Ryan making a drunken twat of himself when somebody grabbed my bum. And I mean a proper handful of left cheek. You know the staring guy? Surprisingly, it wasn’t him. I turned to see Charlie walking off. Can you believe that? See, that’s the sort of proof I’m talking about when I say he’s still into me. I’m honestly not being arrogant! And since he didn’t stick around to get my reaction, we can only assume he knew he’d done wrong and it was the hand of alcohol that had done it. I mean, he’s only human, so I don’t blame him for being tempted, but it put me in yet another moral fix. In the end, I decided never to mention this to Brooke, as what good could it do? If I’m to be honest, it had done a lot of good for me, though, because I suppose I always want Charlie to fancy me. Is that so wrong?

  Just as I was soaking up this exquisite feeling, Brooke came running up to me. For a second I thought she’d seen and wanted to have it out with me.

  ‘You got to come into the house with me. Gem’s refusing to come back in,’ she said.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Her dad’s not returned and her nan’s just told her why,’ she replied. Did I mention Nana Lil is a right old stirrer? We went up to Gem’s old bedroom to find her sobbing face down on her bed.

  ‘Just one day – all he had to do was be a dad to me for one day,’ she wailed. Nana Lil was sat there rubbing her back and going, ‘Men are all the same, darlin’. Don’t let him ruin your evening.’

  Derek is actually Lil’s son, but he’s hardly her favourite, which is probably why she blew the whistle on him. Basically, Derek hadn’t gone back to feed the dog, he’d gone back to his ‘fancy-piece’ in their village and now he was too drunk to come back. More like he was too busy getting his end away. It was a horrible thing to have done, and even though Gemma knows what her dad’s like, I knew she’d find an excuse for him as usual. He doesn’t even send her birthday cards, that’s how bad it is. She’s always hopeful, but he always disappoints. I can’t blame her for having expectations, though, because girls can’t help idolizing their dads, can they?

  The only solution was to get Grant to step up and start acting the husband. And to give him credit, once we got him there he managed to say all the right things and even made her smile. As I sat there watching them together, I felt a pang of jel. She was in so much pain, but there he was to pick her up and make her feel better. It was something I wanted for myself, but not, if you know what I mean?

  I went and got Gem a glass of champagne. Then me and Brooke fixed Gem’s make-up and made Nana Lil get back to the party. She’d done quite enough damage. The bling sling had gone awry too, so I had to do some on the-spot alterations. It was actually pretty nice having some downtime with the bride and groom. Don’t you just find you never spend any time with them at weddings, which sort of defeats the point of a wedding, right? I think I’ll have a much more intimate affair, somewhere hot and on a beach. Maybe the Maldives.

  Just to give me a reality slap, I heard my phone go off. It was another message from Jamie asking if I wanted to come to some party in Shoreditch next weekend. I wasn’t really feeling it, so I just ignored him for the meantime. I wasn’t being horrible, it’s just that you got to let some replies develop gradually over time like a fine wine, otherwise they come out all acidic. I needed to sleep on it and be sober.

  Russ turned out to be an alright DJ, although he was shit at taking requests. Every time I went up, he either didn’t have it or wouldn’t play it. I pointed out that everyone loves ‘Come On Eileen’, but he said he wouldn’t be seen dead playing that. I’m not being funny, but he’s hardly going to get anywhere in the DJ world if that’s his attitude. Anyways, before I knew it, he was playing their last song. What gives with weddings being over so quickly? Unfortunately, they’d chosen ‘All Night Long’ by Lionel Richie. I envy all of you who still find joy in that uplifting melody because Ryan has tainted it for ever.

  So the music started and a circle gathered round the newly-weds. All good so far. But then I spotted Ryan taking his shoes off. He then put a shoe on each hand and started dancing in the circle with Gem and Grant. We were absolutely pissing ourselves, and each time Ryan tried to get out of the circle, Charlie shoved him back into the middle. Eventually he stayed there and just happily played the trumpet with his shoe-hands.

  It was when Ryan started with the shouting that it stopped being so funny. At the top of his voice he yelled, ‘The marriage is a sham, the marriage is a sham,’ over and over. Lionel was singing ‘jambo jumbo’ so loud that no one seemed to hear Ryan’s outburst, so I ran into the circle, pushed Charlie out the way and got Ryan out of there.

  ‘What you playing at, babe?’ I asked. Ryan just stared back with a blank expression. ‘Listen, I can’t talk to you with your shoes on your hands, hun,’ I said, pulling them off him.

  He grabbed his shoes back and scurried back into the circle, skidding into Gemma and Grant as he went. As he regained his balance, he yelled, ‘The marriage is a sham,’ right in Gem’s face. Her face dropped and she stopped dead in her tracks and looked angrily at Grant. I had to use every ounce of strength to drag Ryan out of the marquee entirely, and Brooke wasn’t far behind.

  ‘You’ve done it now,’ I said, furious with him.

  ‘People got to be honest if they like a bit of cock, yeah?’ he said.

  ‘Who, Gemma or Grant?’ I said, proper confused now.

  ‘He means your Tony,’ Brooke said, interrupting.

  ‘What you talking about? Hun, what’s going on?’

  Brooke grabbed Ryan’s iPhone and brought up his Grindr profile. Right at the top, there was a bloke called ‘IG8 Straight’, and he was twenty metres away according to this. Brooke went on to his profile and there was Tony’s big old moon face staring back at me.

  ‘What’s this all mean?’

  ‘The marriage is a sham,’ Ryan repeated. Since he was talking like a crack-head, it was left to Brooke to explain.

  ‘You remember the Duke of Essex Polo, yeah? That’s when Ryan first saw him with Tasha. You know this bloke who’s been jizzing on him in the showers at Virgin Active? That’s Tony.’

  ‘You’re kidding me?’

  ‘That’s not everything. Ryan also met him up town after work once. When I say they met up town, I mean they met in Liverpool Street station’s toilets. Apparently it’s rife in there. Let’s just say it was a mutually beneficial meeting.’

  ‘I don’t believe this. Why’s he not told me any of this?’

  ‘Because he didn’t want to be the one tearing up your family. You know loads of blokes do this sort of shit but it don’t make them a bad husband or father? Like, he could be bi and just a bit confused, right?’

  ‘So Ryan’s been sat on this bombshell for two whole months?’

  ‘Becs, you should have seen him at the polo. He didn’t know what to do with himself. I was the one who told him not
to say anything.’

  ‘Well no wonder he’s so off his face now. He wasn’t built to contain secrets. So hold up, has Ryan spoken to Tony?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, they had a little tête-à-tête when Tony got here.’

  ‘I geddit now – so that’s why the dicksplash is being all cosy with Tasha. He’s fucking scared, isn’t he?’

  ‘So what you going to do, babe?’ asked Brooke.

  ‘I’m not going to a piggin’ thing. It’s nothing to do with me. If Tony were having a full-on emotional affair with someone, then I’d have to get involved, but looks to me like he’s just fooling around for the moment.’

  Don’t get me wrong, this was a shock, but I suppose my gut instinct had always told me Tony was up to no good. I mean, he couldn’t seriously have been watching all those sport programmes. Darts, I ask you? But I’d make the call when or if I needed to step in. And I’d be confronting Tony if I did, not Tasha. I’m no grass. At the end of the day, it was my little Lola that was in the forefront of my mind. She’s a well happy kid, so why rock her world? In a way, it was a good thing he’d been caught out because now he knew he was playing a very dangerous game. I wanted Tony to feel the fear and not think he could take my sister for a mug. He’d have to make up his own mind about where his loyalties lay. Right now a more urgent matter needed to be dealt with, so I had to leave Brooke outside with Ryan. I was very aware that Gemma would be thinking the worst right now.

  The music had stopped long ago and everyone was gradually filtering out of the marquee. Gem was hugging some old dear and smiling away, but as soon I got up to her the mask slipped right off.

  ‘What was all that about? What’s Ryan mean?’ she said, grabbing me with her good arm and looking all urgent.

  ‘Calm the passion, hun,’ I said. ‘He’s so drunk he doesn’t know what he’s saying. But let me tell you this much. It’s not your marriage that’s the sham. He means some other marriage.’

  ‘Are you lying to me?’

  ‘Swear on my nan’s life, it was aimed at some other poor sods. I can’t really talk about it,’ I said, ending it there. I normally tell her everything, but this seemed a bad story to tell someone on their wedding day. I couldn’t say ‘our old school friend’s sucked off my sister’s husband’. I wanted her to have a hundred per cent faith in marriage on today of all days.

  She knew not to question me further and just went, ‘Thank fuck for that. Honestly, babe, I couldn’t take another personal drama today.’

  ‘Tell me about it. But it’s been fun though, hasn’t it?’ I said hopefully.

  ‘Most amazing day of my life, babe,’ she said. ‘Thanks for getting me through everything earlier. He’s a shit, and I know it.’

  ‘Hun, no need to thank me, it’s my job. And check this out,’ I said, waving my iPhone at her. ‘I filmed Ryan dancing with his shoes on his hands. How many hits do you reckon we’ll get when I upload it on YouTube?’

  ‘Oh my God, amazing! Sweet revenge is ours. He did take down that one of me and the stripper, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah, course he did,’ I replied, although I really couldn’t be sure. He told me the one of me falling into a bush had been taken down, but had it fuck. Ryan’s actually going to kill me when he sees that I’ve detailed the most humiliating episode in his life like this, but it happened – I got video evidence and I got witnesses, so sue me.

  Ryan was in no fit state to go home alone so I decided he was coming back with the Foxes that night. I’d seen Jake snogging Emily in a corner, and, if I knew my brother, Emily wouldn’t be needing the bed at mine. When I finally found Ryan again, he was sat in Gemma’s parents’ house with Marilyn, scribbling in the sodding Guest Book. I grabbed it off him but it was too late. He’d written under each heartfelt message the exact same thing. For instance, one of them went like this: ‘My darling Gem and Grant, Congratulations on your wedding day. You’ve made your old nan very proud and I hope you have as many happy years together as me and your granddad did. He would have loved today so much but I’m sure he was watching over us all. Love you very much, Nana Lily . . . And Ryan, your favourite gay.’ If anything, Gem’s granddad would have been turning in his urn, because each message was accompanied by a drawing of a giant cock, and he hadn’t missed a single page either.

  I threw the pen across the room in despair. I couldn’t believe Brooke had left him alone after all he’d done that evening. There was nothing we could do now, so I pulled him up, stuck a sleepy Marilyn under my arm and walked them to the waiting minibus. En route he even tried to stick his tongue down my throat, so that just shows how gone he was. Ryan, that is, not Marilyn. I shoved both of them in between Nana Vera and Dad for safe-keeping while I went and said my goodbyes to Gem and Grant in the marquee. I found Brooke snogging the face off Charlie in there too. Typical. Isn’t it the law that all the bridesmaids get some action, and not from a gay? Proper disappointing.

  I got back to the bus to find my dad with his arm around Ryan. Ryan was sobbing away while Nan tried to console him. ‘You’ll find yourself a nice man some day, darlin’,’ she said to him. ‘These things take time. I’m a bit psychic and I’d say your fella was just on the horizon.’

  I noticed Tony shift uncomfortably in the back. It must all have felt a bit too close to home for him. And I reckon he knew I knew because he didn’t take the piss out of me once on the way home. It was quite a peaceful journey back with Ryan’s soft whimpering in the background. It gave me a chance to reflect on all that had happened. It then occurred to me that something hadn’t happened.

  ‘Oh my God, did Gemma throw her bouquet?’ I said suddenly.

  ‘Brides don’t seem to do that any more,’ Emily said. ‘They like to keep their wedding flowers.’

  ‘That is so fucking selfish,’ I said, feeling outraged. ‘What about the rest of us? They’re jinxing all our marriage prospects if they’re hogging all the bouquets.’

  ‘People make such a fuss about their weddings, these days,’ Nan chipped in. ‘I got married, then I went straight on my honeymoon. I didn’t care much about keeping flowers.’

  ‘That’s what I’m saying – why are brides so fucking precious these days? I would have given the flowers back if she’d asked.’

  ‘Becs, have you had quite a bit to drink?’ Mum said, interrupting me.

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ I replied. I rested my head against the window and took some time out. No one likes the drunk ranter at the end of the evening.

  The best bit about a wedding is the gossip the day after. Although, Ryan wasn’t exactly the most chatty person the next morning. I woke up to the sound of him hurling into what I hoped was my toilet. Much to his irritation, I was feeling kinda perky. I wanted to find out what Ryan had said to Tony, but he wouldn’t come out the bathroom so I left him to it and walked over to the parents.

  As soon as I walked into the living room, Mum and Dad stopped talking.

  ‘I see, I see, keeping secrets, are we?’

  ‘Never from you, Princess . . . I thought you was Jake,’ Dad said.

  ‘What you whispering about, then?’

  ‘Just about how busy Jake was last night,’ Mum replied, taking a furtive sip of her tea.

  ‘C’mon, and the rest . . .’ I said, having to lead them into the goss.

  ‘Well, you know who’s in his room right now. But Nan saw him snogging Cleo at one point,’ said Dad.

  ‘And then I saw him snogging one of the bar girls,’ added Mum. ‘I really don’t know about him. He needs to have his heart broken and see how he likes it.’

  ‘So that makes Emily his third victim?’ I said, doing some amazing maths. ‘I just don’t get how he stops the other girls from finding out. He must have sensors in his back or something.’

  ‘Do something dangerous every day, that’s what he says,’ Dad said, brimming with pride. Dad totally encourages this Casanova behaviour, but when I told Dad and Jake what had happened with Ben (and I gave them the clean version of events), t
hey both exploded. Such double standards. Don’t get me wrong, I admire Jake for grabbing life by the balls, but I wish he was more respectful towards my people.

  That afternoon we returned to the scene of the crime, as Gem’s parents had put on a post-wedding barbecue. Miraculously, I’d managed to get Ryan moving and drove him back to his flat to change. Marilyn was forced to sit on his lap on the way, but I told him if he puked on my baby, I was dropping them both off at the doggy day spa. I put a couple of sick bags in the glove compartment just in case.

  Gem and Grant literally pounced on the SLR as soon as we came up the drive. I could see it in their eyes – they wanted me to feed them a few spoonfuls of scandal – so I told them about Jake’s hat-trick just to keep them going. They were loving it.

  I got Ryan out the car and he held on to me like an old man. You would not have thought the boy was a personal trainer. I sat him down and sorted him out with a pint of orange and lemonade. You cannot beat that drink when you’re hanging, but he needed a sugar hit too so I grabbed a plate of Chocolate Fingers. ‘C’mon, have just one. Everybody loves a Finger,’ I said, but even that didn’t get a rise out of him. He needed more time before he could give me the gritty details, so I left him to recover.

  I tried having a go at the barbecue with Grant for a bit, but all the sausages kept falling through the grill. Who designed these things, I ask you? I gave up for everybody’s sake and decided to join Gem, Brooke and Charlie, who were now sat with Ryan. Charlie wouldn’t look me in the eye at first, so he clearly had a guilty conscience. Ryan was looking even more pathetic thanks to Nana Lil, who had now wrapped a blanket round him.

  ‘What do you look like, hun?’ I said.