Girls on Tour

by Nicola Doherty

  ‘You look beautiful, Emily,’ I say, hugging her to distract her from thrusting bananas at Alice. Emily likes to be equipped with snacks at all times; I’m willing to bet the banana came all the way with her from M&S in Hitchin.

  Next minute the hairdresser, Stevie, sweeps into the room. ‘Well hello, Bridesmaid Two,’ he says, snapping his straighteners at me. ‘Is this Bridesmaid Two? Or Maid of Honour?’

  ‘Oh God,’ says Alice, looking nauseous. ‘I honestly hadn’t thought about it. I don’t know who the maid of honour is. I’m sorry if that’s really rude.’

  ‘It’s fine!’ I say quickly. ‘Poppy, you should be maid of honour. I can be a bridesmaid.’

  ‘No, you’re family! I’ll be a bridesmaid,’ says Poppy.

  ‘Melissa, help me out,’ says Alice to Melissa, who’s playing games on her phone. ‘What does the maid of honour have to do?’

  ‘I think she walks down the aisle with the best man,’ says Melissa. ‘And the bridesmaids walk with the groomsmen. Can I please not walk with Jesse? He’s my cousin and it would be weird.’

  ‘I don’t know who else you can walk with,’ says Alice. ‘You’re related to Nick and Jesse, don’t forget.’

  Stevie is looking bemused; he’s obviously not used to this kind of ad hoc scenario. We’ve just decided Poppy will be maid of honour but that Melissa will walk with the best man when the door bursts open and someone crashes into the room, soaked with sweat, dressed in workout clothes and plugged into an iPod. It’s Luther Carson, looking even sexier in real life than he does on screen, if that’s possible. Poppy, Aunt Emily, Melissa, Stevie and I all try not to stare at him as Alice introduces us. I don’t know if I’m more discombobulated by meeting Luther Carson, or by seeing him in the same room as my Aunt Emily.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he says, pulling off his sweaty T-shirt, seemingly oblivious to all our eyes riveted on him. ‘Alice, you look very pretty – nice job, baby.’ He goes to kiss Jenna, who swats him away distractedly.

  ‘That was a sweet run. Eight miles, sixty-two minutes,’ he says, flopping down on the bed, where all Alice’s underwear and accessories are laid out. ‘Well, what have we here? Sam’s a lucky guy.’ He’s picked up Alice’s garter belt and is looking at it with his trademark sexy smirk. Jenna glances up, finally seeming to notice him.

  ‘LUTHER!’ She stands up and starts shooing him away. ‘Put that down! Get out of here! Go and shower in one of the guest bathrooms and then see if they need help downstairs. Sorry about that, hon,’ she says to Alice, sitting down and applying a last dusting of translucent powder as if nothing’s happened.

  There’s a knock at the door. Poppy goes to answer it, and comes back to say, ‘The photographer wants to come in and do some getting-ready candid shots.’

  ‘Now?’ Alice says, looking green.

  ‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to, darling,’ says Aunt Emily. ‘It could be rather nice, though. Erica had them at her wedding.’ The look on Alice’s face tells me this may not be the first time she’s heard this phrase.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a few minutes on my own,’ she says faintly.

  ‘Good idea,’ says Emily. ‘Everyone, let’s clear out and give Alice some peace. You’ll be super, darling. I’ll come back in a while with your bouquet.’

  I look at them both, thinking how lucky Alice is to have her mother there on her wedding day. Emily is obviously thinking the same thing. As we leave the room, she squeezes my arm and whispers, a catch in her voice, ‘I do wish your mum was here.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say, squeezing her back. But there’s no time to brood: Stevie is already asking me how I feel about a sort of Grecian goddess up-do, and Nick has run upstairs to say that his Great-Aunt Sarah, who shouldn’t really be driving, has turned up early and managed to scrape one of Luther’s vintage cars, and did anyone remember to order pizza for the band?

  For the next hour and a half, chaos reigns as we frantically race to finish everything before the guests arrive. And then it’s time, and Alice is walking up the aisle on Uncle Graham’s arm, to the sound of ‘God Only Knows’ by the Beach Boys. Melissa follows with the best man, then Poppy with Jesse and me with Nick. The mess of this morning has disappeared and everything looks perfect: the canopy at the end of the lawn with stunning ocean views behind it; bunches of sweet peas at the end of each row of chairs; the marquee behind us where we’ll be eating and dancing later.

  The ceremony goes perfectly. Cynthia reads a Native American poem about two eagles soaring in the sky. Aunt Emily reads from Corinthians 13. When Alice and Sam recite the wedding vows I helped them find on the internet, and exchange the rings I picked up from the jeweller’s, my eyes start filling up.

  ‘Do you have a tissue?’ Poppy asks me, as we wait to have our photos taken afterwards. ‘Oh thanks, darling. I’m getting sentimental in my old age.’

  ‘Good. Me too,’ says a good-looking blond guy in a pale blue suit and white shirt, handing us each a glass of champagne. Poppy introduces me to Charlie, her boyfriend.

  ‘Quite a place, isn’t it?’ Charlie says, indicating the rolling green lawn, the perfect sunshine and the beach and ocean twenty feet away. ‘The last wedding I went to was in a sports hall in Dagenham. Bit different.’

  ‘I love the mix of guests,’ Poppy says. ‘Look at that guy – I think he was in True Blood – standing beside Alice’s mum in her hat. Have you met any celebs, Lily?’

  ‘Not really.’ I have already said hello to Brock Wilson and his wife – he said hi vaguely as if he couldn’t quite place me, which was a relief.

  ‘Sam must be annoyed those other three guys turned up wearing the same suit as him,’ Charlie says. I’m about to tell him this was on purpose when I see the glint in his eye and realise he’s joking. I think I might have temporarily lost my sense of humour in all the wedding panic.

  I start talking to Charlie and Poppy about their hotel and the rest of their travel plans, which they’re very excited about: Griffith Observatory and Palm Springs for her, Disneyland and Vegas for him. But the whole time, I’m conscious of Jesse in the distance, talking to a Natalie Portman lookalike. I really hope it’s not the actual Natalie Portman. He doesn’t approach me while we’re having our photos taken, or during the drinks reception. It’s textbook: the more he leaves me alone, the more I wish he would come over. And it’s also textbook that our one conversation today had to take place before I had the benefit of my professional make-up, my beautiful up-do and my pale pink strapless chiffon dress.

  I console myself with the fact that I’ll be beside him at dinner. But as we go in, Alice takes me aside and tells me Sam’s sister Melissa is upset that she’s not at the same table as the bride and groom.

  ‘She’s in tears,’ Alice says, looking worried. ‘I know she seems laid-back, but she’s a bit emotional and she adores Sam. Do you think …?’

  ‘Of course! She can have my place. It’s fine.’ I don’t want Alice to be stressed about anything today. And if Jesse wants to talk to me, he can come and find me. I feel less saintly, though, when I realise I’m now sitting between some random couple who are friends of Sam, and my dad and Fi.

  ‘Here she is,’ says Dad, giving me a hug. ‘We’ve barely seen you all day! Emily says you’ve been doing great work behind the scenes.’

  My reply is cut off by Fi gushing about what a beautiful place this is, and how gorgeous Alice looks, and how handsome Sam is, and how wonderful to have the sunshine, and how exciting it is to be in a celebrity’s house, and do I think it’s OK to take pictures. Honestly, she brings out my dark side like no one else. She’s also wearing a pink suit and an enormous purple hat, which exactly blocks my view of Jesse at the top table.

  As the meal goes on, I catch up with Dad, and make small talk with Sam’s friend Jeff about his web business and the app he’s building. Then Luther, as MC, announces that the toasts are starting. Luther himself kicks off with a speech that’s quite touching even though it’s mainly about him,
or rather, the book he wrote when Alice was his editor. He finishes up by saying, ‘And if I hadn’t written my book, I probably wouldn’t have taken a part in the best TV series ever’ – there are a few whoops – ‘and most importantly, I wouldn’t have met my adorable angel …’ He raises his glass to Jenna, and everyone cheers. ‘So here’s to you two beautiful people for helping me change my life. May you always be as happy as the day I first caught you sneaking around together.’

  The American and English contingents are pretty different in their speeches. Sam’s father’s speech is all about how much he’s learned from watching Alice and Sam grow together as a couple. Uncle Graham’s speech is mainly about Alice’s A level results and Winston Churchill. Alice and Sam both speak, and are witty and touching and adorable. They thank everyone who made the wedding possible, from their parents to Luther’s housekeeper.

  Then, to my surprise, Sam says, ‘Lastly I need to thank someone else who’s worked really hard to put this entire wedding together – Alice’s cousin Lily. She was meant to be doing a few light bridesmaid duties, but she’s ended up coordinating the entire day like a pro. Lily, you’ve given us exactly the wedding we wanted, and you’ve saved us from going insane in the process. To Lily.’

  ‘To Lily.’ And the entire marquee full of people joins in a toast to me. No curtain call or applause from an audience has ever made me feel so special.

  ‘Are you a professional wedding planner?’ asks Gretchen, the wife of my new friend Jeff.

  ‘Gosh, no. I just made a list and figured it out.’

  ‘You did a great job. Which florist did you use?’

  ‘We bought the flowers from the LA flower market. Sam’s mother and aunt arranged them.’

  She nods. ‘And these place cards?’

  ‘I ordered them off the internet.’ I wonder why she’s so interested. ‘It wasn’t hard. I mean, it was hard but it was fun.’

  ‘What’s that they say? Find a job you enjoy and you’ll never work a day in your life!’ pipes up Fi.

  ‘You should think about working in event management,’ Gretchen says. ‘I run a company in Santa Monica – we look after all kinds of events: wrap parties, premieres, product launches. We can always use good people. Do you have a driver’s licence?’

  ‘Sure. I’ve been driving around all week.’ I glance over at Dad, who’s looking proud.

  Gretchen hands me her card. ‘Give me a call tomorrow, and maybe we can set something up.’

  I’m about to tell her I’m just here on holiday when something makes me change my mind. ‘I’d love to. Thank you.’ I put her card away, thinking: I may as well call her. It might lead to nothing, but you never know. And I’m not exactly in a hurry to get back to rainy London.

  ‘Oh look,’ says Fi. ‘They’re setting up for the first dance! Let’s go and see.’

  Dad stands up, smiling at her Tigger-like enthusiasm. It occurs to me that he smiles a lot more now that she’s around. I might not like her all that much, but he clearly does, and I suppose I’d better start getting used to it. I stand up too and come with them, wincing as I do – I’m not used to wearing heels, and after being on my feet all day, these are starting to kill.

  ‘I do love your dress,’ Fi says to me for the millionth time, as we make our way through the tables.

  ‘Thanks, Fi.’ I give her a properly genuine smile, and Dad gives me the same thing.

  Sam and Alice never did agree on the kind of music they wanted for their wedding, so I found them a covers band that plays sixties and seventies music. I had assumed their first dance would be a slow number, but it’s upbeat: ‘(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher’ by Jackie Wilson. We’ve been listening to it for days and I know it’ll always remind me of their wedding. Now more couples are joining them on the dance floor: Sam’s parents, my dad and Fi, Luther and Jenna, Poppy and Charlie, Nick and some cute young guy who I bet is an actor. Aunt Emily is laughing as she dances with Uncle Graham. She doesn’t look much like Mum except when she laughs, and then it’s uncanny how similar they are.

  Feeling a lump in my throat, I try and imagine what today would be like if Mum were here. I’ve done that so often: every birthday, every Christmas, even normal days. She’d have been livid with me for ruining the crafting evening – not to mention everything else – but I think she’d be proud of the way I helped put the wedding together.

  ‘See, Lily?’ I can almost hear her saying. ‘You can do anything if you put your mind to it.’

  What about acting, though? I ask her silently. I have put my mind to it, and it hasn’t worked. Would she be disappointed? Would she be sad if I stopped trying, or if I went after that event planning job instead?

  Obviously I’ll never know, but I don’t think she would. I think she’d say it didn’t matter as long as I was happy. I feel a weight lifting as I remember: she always just wanted me to be happy. And I think she’d also ask me why I wasn’t dancing and what happened with that nice boy who was driving me around.

  ‘Hey,’ says a voice behind me.

  I turn around; it’s Jesse.

  ‘I’m glad I finally get to talk to you. Every time I’ve seen you today, you’ve been halfway up a ladder or shouting instructions to someone.’

  ‘I’ve been working,’ I say a little defensively.

  ‘I know you have.’ He comes closer and I notice again how handsome he looks in his suit, and how gorgeous his almond-shaped eyes are. ‘I hope you’re planning a quiet day tomorrow to recover?’

  ‘Tomorrow …’ I don’t want to sound as if I’m fishing for a date. ‘I’m going to help clear up a few things here in the morning, and then I think Dad wants to see this thing called Watts Towers, whatever that is.’ I don’t add that I have no intention of playing gooseberry with Dad and Fi.

  ‘Oh, great idea. They look like the Gaudí buildings in Barcelona, except they were built out of garbage by an Italian immigrant called Simon Rodia. It took him thirty-three years. There’s a great documentary about them, called I Build the Tower.’

  I nod, thinking: I appreciate the architectural history, but isn’t he going to mention anything about what happened?

  His face changes. ‘Well – enjoy,’ he says, and turns to leave. For the first time it occurs to me that he might have been looking for signals too.

  ‘Wait!’

  He turns back.

  ‘Jesse, I heard you ended your engagement – officially. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s better to have it out there,’ he says. ‘I mean except for all the screaming and yelling and recriminations. That I could do without.’

  I laugh reluctantly.

  ‘Look,’ he says in a low voice, ‘I know I should have told you we were engaged. But the truth is, I didn’t want you thinking I was an asshole for calling off the wedding. I guess I hate to be the bad guy. But I’ve realised that when you try to please everyone—’

  ‘You end up pleasing no one?’ I suggest.

  ‘Exactly.’ He smiles, and I smile back. I’d like to say I’m also sorry about his father, but I’m not supposed to know about that.

  ‘Jesse!’ Diane’s joined us, right on cue. ‘Carla’s over-tired and we need to get home. Can you drive us?’

  ‘No, Mom, I can’t,’ he says, without taking his eyes off me. ‘I’ve spent all day trying to talk to Lily and I’ve finally managed to pin her down, so you’ll have to drive yourselves.’

  Diane looks at me suspiciously, then back at Jesse. ‘Fine. But don’t forget, we’re doing the tour of Universal Studios tomorrow morning and then afterwards we’ve got the cookout.’

  ‘Actually, I can’t make the tour either,’ Jesse says calmly. ‘Or the cookout. I’m helping Lily clean up here, and then I’m taking her to see Watts Towers. And then in the evening I’m taking her out for dinner and drinks. I haven’t decided where yet – somewhere nice. Do you like Japanese food?’ he asks me.

  ‘Love it,’ I say, thrilled but with one cautious eye on Diane. I’ve never
been asked out in front of someone’s mum before; it’s very odd.

  ‘I never thought I’d say this, but …’ Diane turns to me. I brace myself, but she continues, ‘You did a good job with the wedding. We thought it was going to be a pretentious corporate LA affair, but you turned it into a family occasion after all.’

  Jesse and I look at each other in wonder as she leaves.

  ‘That’s rare praise from my mom,’ he says. ‘Well, thanks for the alibi. It was nice talking to you.’ He pats my arm and moves away; I stare at him, stricken.

  He turns around slowly. ‘Too much? Not funny?’

  ‘Not even a bit funny,’ I tell him, arms folded. He comes towards me again. The band has started playing ‘Signed, Sealed, Delivered’. Behind Jesse, I can see Nick giving me a very unsubtle thumbs-up from the dance floor.

  ‘Sorry. Do you want to dance?’ he asks, grinning.

  ‘I would, but my feet hurt,’ I admit, holding up one foot. ‘These are not the best heels to wear if you’re running around doing errands all day.’

  ‘Why don’t you take them off? Or better still …’ Suddenly I’m being scooped up in his arms and he’s carrying me away from the dance floor, down the lawn towards the ocean.

  ‘What are you doing? Jesse! Put me down!’ I shriek, giggling like a fool. And then I can’t say anything at all, because he’s kissing me. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him back, at length. I don’t even care that various members of both our extended families can probably see us: I’m feeling so outrageously, ridiculously happy I could burst.

  ‘So, tomorrow,’ he says, putting me down gently once we’ve stopped for breath. ‘Are you free? I just want to make sure you don’t have plans to go chasing off to the Hollywood Hills for another audition, or getting arrested on the beach …’

  I’m laughing, but I’m also thinking about the fact that the wedding went well, that I’ve made my peace with Dad and Fi, and that I’ve finally realised there might be things I can do with my life besides acting.

  ‘Yes,’ I tell him, kissing him again and kicking off my shoes. ‘I’m free. Come on, let’s go and dance.’