Don't Tell the Groom

by Anna Bell

  ‘But all that hard work,’ says Mary, shaking her head. ‘There must be something you can do, something you can try.’

  I know that everyone says that a problem shared is a problem halved but this time it doesn’t feel like it. In fact, it feels like my problems are multiplying like frogspawn.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ says Josh.

  An hour later I’m sitting in Josh’s living room wondering just what the hell I’m doing. I’ve just been introduced to Mel, the man, and he is busy helping Josh set up.

  ‘This is so exciting,’ says Rebecca, squeezing my arm.

  ‘I’m really nervous. Do you think it will work?’

  ‘I don’t know your fiancé, but I hope it will.’

  ‘Right, Penny, we’re ready for your starring role,’ says Josh.

  I get up from the sofa and go into Josh’s dining room where he has the video camera set up. The idea is that I am going to send Mark a video message. I know it is a risky strategy and there is the very distinct possibility that he won’t play it. But if I wrote a letter there would be a chance he would rip it up before reading it and he clearly isn’t listening to his answerphone messages, as he hasn’t called me back.

  Josh came up with the idea and I think it is my best chance of getting Mark to listen to my explanation without him shutting me down. We’re just going to have to hope he actually watches it when we have the finished video and have managed to find him to give him a copy.

  ‘Right, Penny, just sit down here,’ says Josh.

  I do as instructed and I then smooth my hair down. I know a bit of frizz is probably the least of my worries, as I’m sitting here with eyes all puffy and red from all my crying.

  ‘And action,’ says Josh, smiling.

  Seeing Josh in director mode brings a smile to my face for the first time since the hen do.

  ‘Mark, I know you don’t want to hear anything I have to say, but you have to hear my side of the story. I’m going to tell you the truth, which I should have done from the word go, when you proposed. The truth was, I was scared that you would be disappointed in me and I couldn’t bear for you to look at me in that way.

  ‘I just thought if I could make it all better then I wouldn’t have to hurt you. But that hasn’t really worked, has it?

  ‘The truth – if you haven’t already worked it out from the bank statements – is that I have a problem with gambling. Online bingo to be exact.’

  I close my eyes as I can just tell what Mark is going to be shouting at the screen.

  ‘I know you’re going to tell me that I was stupid, and I was. But I can’t tell you what came over me. It was like I was in a trance. I just wanted the perfect wedding so that we could have a fairytale day, where everything was magical and everyone would be amazed. When I say it out loud it seems ridiculous. I know now that none of the chair covers, the table confetti or the white doves would have been the key to a happy marriage. I know now trust and honesty are the foundations of that, and I’ve destroyed them.

  ‘You wondered why you didn’t recognise Josh as one of my work colleagues, and that is because he isn’t from my work. He’s my mentor in the gambling support group. Think of it like an AA sponsor. He’s my go-to man when I’m thinking about gambling. And that was what Violet saw. She saw me with Josh and assumed that we were having an affair, but in truth he was helping me to get over my problem.

  ‘I know you’re probably thinking that it was your job to help me with my problems, and to some extent you should have been. But Josh has been through what I have. His gambling stories are worse than mine. He understood what I was thinking, and more importantly, he’s made me see what is important in my life. Which is you.

  ‘I want to marry you, Mark. That’s all I ever wanted to do. I want to go to stage six with you and start our family and I’d love to go to stage ten with you and retire to our country cottage. But I don’t really care about the stages, I don’t really care what happens as long as I’m with you.

  ‘I know that I made the biggest mistake of my life when I started the whole “don’t tell the groom” business, but the funny thing is that it’s made me a better person. I now don’t take for granted what I have and I know what is actually important. And being a princess for sixteen hours is not.

  ‘I’m not cancelling our wedding, Mark. And it has nothing to do with me wanting to put on my dress or not wanting to cancel the caterers – it’s because I know we belong together. As long as there is even the slimmest possibility that you will be at the altar then I’ll not cancel it. I don’t care that I might be humiliated in front of all our family and friends if you don’t turn up. I’m just hoping you can forgive me and that you will be there.’

  I can’t think of anything else to say. There’s so much I want to tell Mark and I desperately want to beg him to come back but I do want him to watch the whole video. And sometimes, Mark is right, less talking is actually more.

  ‘Great work, Penny,’ says Josh. ‘I’ve stopped recording. Now I think it’s time to film some of the segments.’

  I’m relieved that Josh thinks that what I said was good enough to end my plea segment.

  ‘You did so well,’ says Rebecca. ‘I’m so nervous about my bit.’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ I say, rubbing her arm in support.

  For a moment I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the other members of the group who have given up their Tuesday evening to help me with my video. Mary’s bringing cups of tea in from the kitchen and Nick the businessman has popped to the local chippie to bring us back dinner.

  I don’t advocate gambling, and I know what I did was wrong, but I can’t help feeling just a little bit blessed that in all this horrible mess, I’ve got to meet this bunch of people who I never would have encountered in my everyday life.

  When we started in our little gambling group the most important point that Mary stressed was how confidential our sessions were. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone about what went on in the room and other people’s addictions were closely guarded secrets, bearing in mind that some of them hadn’t been honest with their partners and their families. And yet they are still helping me. It means the world to me that my fellow addicts are willing to share their secrets, to help me.

  My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket and immediately my stomach flips and my heart starts to beat faster as I hope that Mark is on the other end of the line. My stomach sinks when I realise it is just Lou. Every time my phone makes a noise I’m like this. My poor stomach thinks I’m on a constant roller coaster with all the ups and downs.

  ‘Hi, Lou.’

  ‘Hey, Pen. Any news?’

  I shake my head before realising that Lou can’t see me do that. I’m so tired that I’m barely thinking straight. This heartbreak is not conducive to sleeping.

  ‘None. I have no idea where Mark is. His mum told me that he texted her to say he was staying in a hotel. And after last night I’ve given up trying to find out where that hotel is.’

  ‘But surely you’ve got to keep trying?’

  ‘I know it’s stupid, but part of me doesn’t want to find him. I don’t want him to tell me that it’s over. This way I can at least hope he’ll be at the wedding.’

  ‘Well, is there anything I can do? Do you want me to try and find him?’

  ‘Actually, yes. And I want you to make a delivery. In fact, what are you doing now?’

  ‘I’m ironing.’

  ‘Since when do you iron?’

  ‘Since I became pregnant and suddenly the wrinkles in the duvet bother me.’

  ‘Lou, as your friend, I’m going to rescue you from your crazy ironing. I’ll text you my friend Josh’s address and you can come and see what we’re up to.’

  ‘Josh with the eyes?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ I say, suddenly hoping that no one else can hear our conversation.

  ‘I’ll be over as soon as I can.’

  ‘Can you pick up some bridal magazines on the way?’ I ask.

  �
�What’s going on?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ I say cryptically.

  I feel like I’ve been having an out-of-body experience for the past twenty-four hours. Filming the video that I hope will persuade Mark to turn up at the altar was one of the most exhausting things I’ve ever done. The upside of it was that I slept last night for a whole nine hours. Which means today I am almost functioning like a human being.

  It’s Wednesday today – only three more sleeps until the wedding. I remember booking this day off work months ago and I imagined that I would be floating around in a state of ecstasy, excited about what was to come. I certainly didn’t imagine I’d be sitting in my PJs at 7 p.m., having not got dressed all day, and wondering if there was going to be a wedding.

  Josh and Lou should be here any time now. We’re launching ‘operation tell the groom’ tomorrow morning.

  When all this is over I owe Josh a huge thank you. He sent me a text message this morning saying he’d almost finished the video; he’d been up all night. This wedding planning has taught me a lot of things, and one of them is how generous other people can be.

  The doorbell rings and I get up. I know I should care that I haven’t washed my hair in days and that I probably should have showered before they came over, but I don’t. I suddenly panic and wonder if it is Mark, but then I realise that he has his key and he wouldn’t need to ring the bell.

  When I open the door it’s Lou. She has a takeaway bag in one hand and a large box of chocolate fingers in the other.

  ‘Glad to see you made an effort for me,’ says Lou, laughing. ‘Hope you’re hungry.’

  I hadn’t really thought about eating but all of sudden I realise that I am ravenous. If there is a wedding on Saturday I am going to be in danger of not fitting into my dress after two takeaways in two days. Not to mention the calories involved in a box of chocolate fingers.

  ‘I’m starving,’ I say.

  ‘Me too. And I finally fancy curry again.’

  I am just closing the door when I hear someone shout.

  ‘Wait.’

  I open the door again and there is Josh.

  ‘Hiya, I’ve got them!’ he shouts as he comes up the path.

  I hug Josh hello and bring him into the kitchen.

  ‘Do you want to see it now?’ asks Josh.

  ‘Absolutely,’ says Lou. ‘But we need to eat first.’

  ‘We can eat on our laps,’ I say, shrugging.

  Lou audibly sucks in a breath. I know, it’s a deviation from the norm. I usually draw the line at any meals being eaten in the lounge. Mainly as I drop food like a baby and our fauxsuede sofa isn’t Scotchguarded. But with my life falling apart that seems like the least of my worries.

  We scoop out the portions as quickly as we can as we’re all dying to watch the DVD.

  What Josh didn’t tell me is that he’s a video-editing genius. I imagined the video would resemble a video made at school with rough fades and cheesy lighting, but it is quite the opposite.

  My heartfelt plea comes first, before the slick editing takes us on a journey of my last three months. Mary, Rebecca, Josh and Nick all share their gambling stories and talk about how the group saved them from their problems.

  Next comes the cheesy montage of me attempting to make a bouquet of flowers, which I still fail at miserably, but I narrate over the top how I went to flower-arranging classes to try to save money.

  I’m then demonstrating my cutting skills as I explain I’ve been volunteering at the museum to get a discount on the reception. I’m pretty mean with the pinking shears now.

  By the end of the video, in which I’m symbolically burning the bridal magazines Lou brought over and I try to tell Mark how much I’ve changed on this wedding planning journey, I’m in tears.

  I can’t believe how good it looks. If I were Mark I’d take me back. But then again, if I were Mark we wouldn’t be in this lousy situation!

  ‘That’s beautiful,’ says Lou.

  She is crying buckets, but I can’t tell whether that is to do with my video or whether it is her pregnancy hormones. Last night she cried when Nick gave her his last chip.

  ‘I just hope it’s enough,’ I say.

  ‘Well, I’d marry you after watching that, if it were me. And I don’t believe in marriage, and I’m gay. That’s how good it is,’ says Josh.

  I can’t help but smile at Josh.

  ‘Thank you so much for all your help. I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, it’s been fun to pull an all-nighter on my computer doing something productive that wasn’t losing me money. Anyway, I’m shattered, so I’m going to head home. I’ve left you six copies just in case.’

  ‘Six?’

  Was that going to be enough?

  ‘Yeah, I know it’s a bit of overkill, but just in case.’

  ‘Thanks, Josh, for everything.’

  As we’re walking out of the door an idea springs to mind.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’re free on Saturday, are you?’

  ‘Let me guess. You want me to video the wedding?’

  ‘Well, that is if there is a wedding.’

  ‘Do I get a free dinner?’

  ‘You most certainly will.’

  ‘Then I’m in. Good luck,’ he says, enveloping me in a big hug.

  ‘Thanks, we’re going to need it. And Josh, invite Mel to the evening do.’

  ‘OK, great,’ he says, as he walks up the path.

  I go back into the lounge and Lou has managed to pull herself together and stop crying.

  ‘So, how are we going to give it to Mark and how are we going to make him watch it?’ I ask.

  Having a video worthy of winning an Oscar is one thing; making Mark watch it is going to be quite another. Having lived with him for almost five years I’ve never once been able to force him to watch Strictly Come Dancing.

  ‘Well, I phoned Kinetic-Co today,’ Lou says, ‘I might have told a small lie and I might have found out that their finance department is in block 4, which uses gate B. I’m just going to hang out near the exit until I see Mark’s car and then I’ll follow him until he stops. I’ll have a laptop with me on the off-chance he’ll watch it with me, and if not I’ll force him to take a DVD.’

  ‘You can’t just hang around in the car for hours – you’re pregnant.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s cold outside. I’ll just put the seat back a little, listen to Radio 1. Believe me, it will be far less stressful then being in the office for two hours.’

  I’m really not convinced by Lou’s plan. It doesn’t sound like a winning plan to me. I think about doing it myself, but as Mark hasn’t returned my calls I’m guessing I’m the last person that he wants to see right now. All I can do is hope that Lou’s plan works, as right now I am running out of time and options.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  To say yesterday had dragged would be an understatement. Yesterday was the longest day in the history of mankind.

  I got up at the crack of dawn; I showered, shaved and moisturised myself in all the necessary places. I blow-dried my hair into little ringlets, which is Mark’s favourite style, and I put on a full face of make-up. All before 7 a.m. All in preparation for when Mark watched the video and came running back to me.

  I went to bed at midnight on the penultimate night of my single life alone, still fully dressed.

  I was hoping that Mark would have come home. Lou had phoned me to tell me the sorry story. Her plan actually worked and she’d followed his car to a petrol station. She apparently waddled over to him and before he had a chance to fill up the car with petrol she started talking to him about the video. He turned to look at her before telling her that he didn’t want to hear anything she had to say and that he didn’t want to watch ‘a fucking video’. Mark never swears. He is quite possibly the maddest I’ve ever known him to be.

  Lou said she did manage to frisbee the DVD into his car before he got in and drove away
. She said he wasn’t rude to her, but I’m guessing that’s because she looks pretty pregnant now. The upside of getting a pregnant woman to fight your battles seems to be that the other person isn’t allowed to shout at them. The downside is that by the time Lou had waddled back to her car Mark had sped away and we still don’t know where he’s staying.

  I was desperate for me and Mark to have this all ironed out last night as my mum is due to turn up any minute now. I didn’t want to have to explain the case of the missing fiancé to her. I sort of hoped it would all come good and we’d get married, live happily ever after, and no one else would have to know.

  The doorbell rings. I know I have to answer it, but it’s like I’m wading through treacle to get to it. I’ve stopped jumping when the doorbell rings now as I know it won’t be Mark. At this time in the morning it will only be my mother.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ she says.

  I go to kiss her hello and all I can do is stare at her hand because it is carrying my wedding dress in a garment bag. The wedding dress for the wedding that probably isn’t going to happen.

  ‘My goodness. You look, um,’ she says, barging past me. I know I look a state. I’ve been sitting on the edge of my bed contemplating what the hell I’m going to do rather than washing off last night’s make-up, which is smeared all over my face.

  ‘I’ve made a list of everything we have to do today. Now where’s Mark? I need to hide the dress before he sees it.’

  ‘He’s not here.’

  ‘Excellent, I’ll go and put it in the spare room wardrobe. When’s he coming back?’

  I don’t have the energy to talk any more so I just shrug my shoulders.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asks.

  Just the sight of my mum and the concerned look on her face is enough to reduce me to tears.

  ‘Penny, whatever’s the matter with you?’

  I can’t face telling the story for the billionth time, so instead I lead her into the living room and plonk her down on the sofa. Pressing play on the DVD player, I take my dress from her hands and head out of the room.