by Anna Bell
‘Well, if you will have a small wedding,’ she says stroppily. ‘I thought it would be fitting, seeing as you two did kiss at my wedding, where you were my bridesmaid.’
‘I was and you made me wear that hideous dress. Yes, perhaps I should have you as one and then I can get my own back. The bridesmaid dresses I’ll choose will be meringue like and corseted and quite horrid.’
‘Uh, well, you can count me out of that,’ says Lucy, laughing.
‘Oh, that sounds more like it,’ says Ed.
‘This reading that I’m doing,’ pipes up Olivia. ‘Do I just read the book I’m reading now? I’m reading a Horrible Histories about Egyptians. Did you know they used poo in their medicine?’
All the adults at the table try not to smirk.
‘I’ll choose you a nice poem. And before you ask, Mum, we don’t want you to read an extract of what you’re reading at the time either,’ I say.
My mum reads romance books on the other end of the scale to the ones I read, less cupcakes and bunting and more whips and handcuffs.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got something in mind,’ says my mum. ‘We read this great book of poetry at our book club.’
‘At your erotic book club?’ says Jim, his ears perking right up.
‘We’ll give you a poem, too, Mum,’ I say shutting this conversation down before it can get started.
She sighs heavily. ‘There was a time when you used to appreciate the arts,’ she says sniffily.
‘I still do. That’s why I’m giving you a poem.’
‘I’m sure the one I would have chosen would have been a lot more entertaining and probably quite informative too, you know, for the honeymoon.’
I shut my eyes in horror as I hear Jim sniggering.
‘At least you won’t be able to censor my speech. You’ll have at least one surprise,’ she continues.
‘What speech?’ I say, almost choking on a bit of naan bread.
‘The speech – you know, the father-of-the-bride one? I doubt your father will actually do one, so I’ll have to step in.’
‘Actually, we weren’t going to do speeches.’
‘Oh, come on, you have to do speeches, it’s like the law,’ says Kerry. ‘And you can’t get Dad to do one; he’d probably forget your name.’
‘Kerry’s right, you can’t not have them,’ says Mum, ignoring the jibe about dad. ‘I’ve been saving up stories about you for years specially. And I’ve got so many about you and Danny from when you were younger. You know you got married when you were four?’
‘We did?’
‘You did,’ says Kerry, clapping her hands together. ‘I remember that. I married Stuart and you married Danny. You had Mum’s old white flouncy shirt on.’
I shake my head. ‘Do you remember that?’ I ask Danny.
‘No,’ he says laughing.
‘Yes,’ says Kerry, her eyes lighting up. ‘I hadn’t thought about this. There are so many stories to choose from. Like when you used to go around lifting up her skirt playing knicker chase.’
I close my eyes and smile at the memory. ‘That was so wrong as games go.’
‘Yeah,’ says Danny. ‘I don’t think kids would be able to do that now. Going around lifting girls’ skirts up.’
‘We didn’t play anything like that at our school, just kiss chase,’ says Lucy.
‘Also wrong, when you think about it,’ I say and we both nod.
‘I thought I could talk about seeing Danny naked,’ says Mum, and we all stare at her open mouthed.
‘When?’
‘Oh, when he was little. When he was in the bath with you.’
‘That makes it sound so much better,’ I say, realising how the case against speeches is mounting.
‘I wouldn’t worry,’ says Mum. ‘I’ve seen Jim naked too. Only he was fully grown.’
Kerry bangs her cutlery noisily on the plate.
‘Mum, I thought we weren’t going to talk about that ever again.’
‘But, darling, it’s so funny.’
Jim has gone bright purple.
‘Don’t worry, darling,’ she purrs to Keith, who’s quietly eating his curry. ‘He was very drunk and mistook me for Kerry.’
‘Not making it any better, Mum,’ says Kerry, her head in her hands.
‘It was after Kerry’s thirtieth birthday,’ I say, to clarify for those at our end of the table who haven’t heard the story before. ‘We had this cottage in Devon.’
‘Pre-Olivia,’ says Kerry. ‘It was boozy. Can we change the subject? How about we talk about when Hazel saw you naked the night before last?’ she says to me.
‘What?’ says Lucy.
‘No, we’re not talking about that,’ I say.
‘What happened?’ says Lucy, turning to Kerry.
‘Well, Hazel walked in on them when Danny was about to . . . ’
‘Seriously, stop,’ I say mortified. ‘So, Keith, did you have a nice Christmas? You were with your daughters, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, that’s right. It was perfectly satisfactory.’
I wait in case there’s any more to come, but he adds nothing further.
‘So, wait, did we agree I’m doing a speech? It’s either me or your father,’ says Mum.
‘Oh, God, that would be worse,’ I say.
‘See, everyone hates speeches,’ says Lucy to Ed.
‘Well, I for one don’t hate them, I think they’re a great idea,’ says Mum.
‘I agree,’ says Ed. ‘Nice and traditional.’
‘Bloody traditional,’ mutters Lucy under her breath.
‘If you do a speech, though, my mum’s going to want to do one,’ says Danny.
‘Oh God, your mum,’ says Jim laughing. He stares at me and Danny. ‘Are you sure you’ve thought this whole wedding thing through? I somehow think eloping would have been the better strategy.’
‘Been there, done that,’ I mutter with a smirk.
The table goes silent and all eyes fall on me.
‘That’s what you were talking about when you mentioned the other dress. You tried to elope, didn’t you?’ says Kerry. ‘That’s what the rush is. You’re married already, aren’t you, and this is some sort of blessing. No wonder you want it low key.’
‘What? You eloped,’ says Mum, a hint of hurt in her voice. ‘Without us?’
I look nervously at Danny and he holds my hand across the table as there’s an uncomfortable silence.
‘We tried to elope but then we found out that you have to wait twenty-nine days and, to be honest, we were relieved,’ he says. ‘I don’t think we would have been able to go through with it without you all there.’
I know that you shouldn’t love someone when they lie, but in this case, I do. And it’s not that much of a lie – there’s an element of truth in it.
‘But you were thinking about it,’ says Kerry. There’s an audible hint of hurt.
‘We just didn’t want a fuss. We didn’t want a big wedding and we were worried that it would spiral out of control,’ I say.
‘Amen to that,’ says Lucy, finishing another glass of wine.
‘You were the one who wanted to invite your great-aunt Dora,’ says Ed.
‘She practically raised me as my mum was always working. It’s a bit different to you asking your old boss,’ she screams.
Lucy’s eyes are almost glowing red. Whatever tension has been bubbling beneath the surface suddenly comes out in a huge explosion. It might have taken the heat off the whole eloping revelation but I can’t help feeling for my bestie.
‘Sometimes it’s useful to network,’ says Ed, exhaling loudly afterwards.
‘Not on your wedding day, it’s not,’ Lucy stands up and throws her napkin down. ‘Thank you, Kerry and Jim for your hospitality. And Danny, it was so good to meet you. I look forward to seeing lots more of you.’
She gets up from the table and leaves the kitchen. I look around the table, stunned at what just happened, before I push my chair out and hurry off a
fter her.
‘What’s going on? Are you OK?’ I ask, grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving.
‘I’m fine, it’s just wedding stuff. It’s getting to us a bit at the moment. I think hearing his mum’s plans for our big day over Christmas didn’t help. Do you mind me going?’ she says, grabbing her coat off the hook and slipping it on. ‘I just don’t want to bring you guys down. It’s such an exciting time for you and I think we’re ruining it.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’re not at all,’ I say. ‘Making sure you’re OK, that’s what’s important.’
I see tears welling up in Lucy’s eyes.
‘I think I’m better off alone. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ she says.
‘Are you going to be OK getting home?’
‘Yes, fine. I’ll see you later,’ she says, giving me a hug and wiping away her tears before she hurries off out of the house.
I’m just about to shut the door behind her when Ed walks up to me.
‘Sorry, Lydia. For ruining your night and being a dick. I do love her, you know.’
‘I know,’ I say, feeling sorry for him. He looks heartbroken.
‘It’s just weddings. I get the impression that she wants to be married to me but it’s like she’s lost sight that that’s what the wedding is actually about and all she can see is stress.’
‘You’re going to work it out,’ I say, confident that they will. There was no one more excited than Lucy when they got engaged.
‘I hope so. I’d better go,’ he says, leaning over and giving me a kiss. ‘I’ve got to catch up with her before she goes too far.’
‘Night, Ed.’
I close the door and wonder if I could sneak back downstairs to my flat. I think it’s too much to hope that people will have forgotten about the whole eloping thing. But I know I can’t leave Danny there alone.
‘So,’ I say sitting down at the table in Lucy’s seat. I look at Keith, wondering what inane question I can ask him this time.
‘Can we do the passe dobble now?’ asks Olivia, interrupting me.
‘Actually, I’m kind of stuffed,’ says Danny, rubbing his belly.
‘Do the dance,’ I whisper.
‘Yes, do the dance,’ says Kerry. ‘I think we all need cheering up after that revelation.’
‘I’m sorry, Kerry, but you’ve got to remember that we didn’t actually do it and you’re going to be bridesmaid,’ I say cheerily.
‘With no meringue or corset?’
‘No,’ I say. ‘You can choose your own dress.’
‘Excellent.’
‘So, am I forgiven?’
‘Hmm, maybe a couple of nights of babysitting might help it along.’
I smile.
‘So come on, then, Michael Flatley, let’s see those moves,’ says Jim.
‘Is that like Flat Stanley? Hay is for horses?’ says Olivia giggling.
‘No Michael Flatley was a dancer in the olden days,’ says Kerry and I’m about to correct her when I realise how long ago it must have been when Riverdance came out. ‘We’re waiting, Danny.’
He looks at me pleadingly and I give him a wink of encouragement.
‘Come on, then, Miss Olivia,’ he says standing up. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.
‘He’s definitely a keeper,’ says Kerry, whispering to me.
‘I know,’ I say, ‘I know.’
Chapter Nineteen
Happy New Year! Hope you had a good one. I finally got to watch the ball drop in Times Square. The ball was a bit weird and disappointing but the atmosphere was electric. Very sore head today. BTW if you could understand the answerphone message ignore my drunk ramblings. It might have sounded like I didn’t like Ross, but I was talking about my Boss who is such a dick. I obviously do really like Ross and think he’s a great guy.
Email; Danny to Lydia, January 2017
‘So this is nice,’ says Danny. We’re lying snuggled up in bed staring up at the ceiling. It’s not quite like it was in Spain. For starters it sounds like there’s a herd of elephants in the room above us, who seem to be watching Frozen on a loop.
‘Hmm. I wish we were at your house or back in Spain,’ I say, realising how much of a problem my living arrangements are.
‘It’s not that bad,’ he says as ‘Let it Go’ comes back on and the noise increases tenfold as Kerry joins in with Olivia in murdering the song.
It really is that bad. Last night Danny had to gag me when we were having sex, not because we were doing something kinky but because Kerry and Jim were having some kind of heated argument and we didn’t want them to overhear us.
‘I am going to miss this place,’ I say.
I don’t know why I’m so sad, it’s tiny and slightly damp smelling when I do my laundry and it has nowhere near enough light. And that’s before I start on the noise from my family above. But despite all that, this place is special to me. It’s felt like home to me at a time when I needed a refuge.
‘We can always come and visit. We can stay here when we come back; if Jim and Kerry are going to do Airbnb anyway we can just book it out. And you’ve still got a few weeks to make the most of it before you leave.’
This is probably the perfect time to tell him about my promotion and adjusted timescale for the move. I take a deep breath, but Danny beats me to it.
‘Don’t be too sad about moving. I know that it might be convenient here, I mean you’ve got the city on your doorstep and you barely have to get out of bed to make a cup of tea,’ he says, laughing.
I poke him in the ribs for taking the piss. He might have misread the apprehension on my face, but he’s right, I’m going to miss living in a city.
Moving down to Portsmouth was the easy option after I quit the job in London. It was a city I knew well having grown up on the outskirts, but there was also a lot going for it: there were lots of flat shares available, Kerry and Jim had just bought a flat here and despite the economic downturn there were still jobs. I hadn’t really expected to fall in love with it as much as I did. Living in Southsea feels more like living in a village than a city, and I love being right next to the sea.
‘Ambleside has a lot going for it,’ he says. ‘I’m sure you’ll settle in quickly.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ I say, ignoring the pang in my heart at leaving.
‘And next weekend I’ll give you a proper tour of the area so you can imagine it. So, what’s on the agenda for us today?’
He’s looking like an excited puppy and I decide now’s not the right time to tell him about the promotion.
‘I thought we could go the Dockyard to see all the ships.’
‘Sounds great. I haven’t been since I went with school.’
‘I’ll jump in the shower, then,’ I say, going to get out of bed, but Danny pulls me back in. ‘Before you go, I reckon that no one can hear us down here above the Frozen racket,’ he whispers in my ear, before he runs his hands down my body.
‘Won’t they now?’ I say, yelping a little as his fingers start to trace patterns on my inner thighs.
‘Not a thing. We can sightsee later, I promise.’
Maybe things aren’t too different to being in Spain after all.
*
‘Wow,’ says Danny. ‘I know I came here on a school trip but I don’t remember it being quite that interesting.’
We walk off the gangway from HMS Victory where we’ve just done an audio guide tour.
‘I know; there’s something so weird when you think you’re standing where actual history took place. I mean, seeing the spot where Nelson was shot.’
‘I know, and seeing how tiny his little cot bed was.’
‘Yes, it was so funny to think how small everyone would have been. You would have been like a giant.’
‘I know. I wouldn’t have fancied that. I’ve got bruises all over my head from hitting all those beams and we were only on there for an hour.’
‘Ah, poor Danny,’ I say, rubbing it for him. I’ll take any excuse to to
uch him.
We wander back into the main area of the Dockyard and weave through the crowds of people.
‘So, what should we see next?’ he asks, pulling his ticket out from his pocket. ‘I quite fancy seeing the Mary Rose Museum. Or we could go to the Naval Museum?’
I stop and look around. There are so many options. The Dockyard is a large site that contains different historical ships and museums and one ticket covers entry for all of them, which makes it tricky to know what to do first.
I haven’t been here for years and I’ve forgotten how interesting it is. I feel a bit bad as Ross has an annual pass and he used to always try and get me to come with him, only I used to fob him off.
‘We could go and see HMS Warrior,’ I say, as I’m enjoying walking around the ships. ‘I remember liking that one.’
We start walking towards it, Danny talking about the time when he came on a school trip and what he and his friends got up to, only I’ve stopped listening. There on the deck of HMS Warrior is Jules aka Wonder Girl – Ross’s girlfriend.
I immediately drop Danny’s hand and turn away from her, pretending that I’m looking for something in my bag.
‘You OK?’ asks Danny.
‘Yes, yes. I’m fine. I just fancied some Polos.’
‘Pretty frantic Polo hunting.’
‘Uh-huh,’ I say, finally finding some and bringing them out.
Danny’s at the gang plank to get on the ship and I’m desperately looking for Jules. I can’t imagine that she’s here alone. Ross has to be here somewhere.
‘Actually, I’ve changed my mind,’ I say, tugging at his sleeve and looking over my shoulder as I go. ‘I think we should go on one of the harbour tours. Look.’ I point at a board, detailing the tours you can take.
‘We’d get to see the naval base. That sounds good, doesn’t it? And we’ll get to go on a boat that actually moves. Come on.’
I tug at Danny’s sleeve and give him no choice. I spot a guy on Warrior dressed in a red down jacket. He’s got his back to me and he’s bending over a sign, but the jacket looks just like the one Ross wears.
I slip round the other side of Danny so that I’m hidden behind him and I quicken my pace.
‘Slow down,’ says Danny. ‘It says that it doesn’t go for another ten minutes. What’s the rush?’