My Fake Wedding(100)
‘Come on holiday then,’ I urge her. ‘You know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder and all.’
‘You reckon?’
‘I reckon,’ I say firmly. ‘He’ll be begging you to marry him when you come back. With a tan and everything.’
‘You know, Katie, you’re right. Bugger it. I’ll come.’
‘Great.’
‘But only if we can go shopping first. For a whole lot of gorgeous stuff to wear on the beach.’
‘We’re only going for the weekend. And we need to get you a bridesmaid’s dress first.’
‘Just make sure you steer well clear of the London bus look this time.’
We both cackle with laughter.
We celebrate by going out. Like we used to. Just the two of us. Jasper’s gone to a conference in the West Midlands, so Janice doesn’t feel she needs to put in any groundwork tonight.
‘Are you really OK about this wedding?’ she asks me, as we queue for Long Island iced teas at the bar.
‘Of course.’
‘Really?’
‘No,’ I reply. ‘I’m fucking shitting myself, to tell you the truth.’
‘You’re not upset that you’ll never have the whole pavlova thing? With the apartment-block cake and all?’
‘Not really. I mean blokes are all the bloody same at the end of the day, aren’t they?’
‘They certainly are.’ She raises her glass to mine. ‘Here’s to our fake weddings then. Both of them. Yours and mine, eh?’
‘Cheers.’
‘Oh sod it,’ she says. ‘Let’s get pissed.’
We drink shedloads. And we flirt with men to get gratis drinks, although we can perfectly well afford to buy our own. Even me. And we’re not exactly polite to the men who do buy us drinks. In fact, once they’ve given in, we lose all respect for them.
‘Sorry,’ Janice tells one bloke with a Jimmy Hill chin when he asks her to dance. ‘I’m a fully paid up member of ANAL.’
‘Uh?’
‘Anti Nauseating Arseholes League. So bugger off.’
‘And I’ve just joined WART,’ I join in. ‘Women Against Randy Tossers.’
It feels good to be letting off steam with my best mate after working so hard to get Neat Eats off the ground. It’s almost like being back at college again. Of course then I’d be shagging guys like these, just so I didn’t cause offence. And I’d go out with them afterwards to avoid upsetting them further. Which would make me so miserable I’d howl with self-pity as Janice and the rest of my housemates brought me cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows and sat on the end of my bed, partly to make me feel better, but mainly because they hugely enjoyed the whole cabaret atmosphere of it all.
‘God,’ I laugh later, as we step into the loo to re-apply lipstick and untwist gussets. ‘I’m choking on the smell of Lynx in there and I still can’t see anyone I fancy. When I took up this whole being single business I thought it was going to be so exciting, you know? A new man every day and all that? No strings attached.’
‘A Daily Male.’ Janice giggles drunkenly.
‘Exactly.’ I laugh. ‘With a Male on Sunday for weekends. Extra thick and full of useless information.’
‘Too right.’
‘But all I seem to have ended up with is one ex-boyfriend and a twelve-year-old I have nothing in common with.’ I frown. ‘Where did I go wrong, Janice?’
She hugs me warmly. ‘I don’t know, mate,’ she says. ‘I just don’t know.’
On Friday morning, I drop Nick off at college so he can resit his maths GCSE and wang over to Sam’s house in Balham. He’s taken the morning off work to plan the menu for his birthday barbie with me.
‘Did you like the invitations?’ he asks me.
‘I didn’t get one.’ I look up from my notebook in surprise.
‘What?’ He runs his hands through his hair, confused. ‘But Pussy posted them ages ago.’
‘Did the postbox she put mine into have Keep Britain Tidy on it?’ I laugh.
‘Don’t be silly, Simpson. Pussy likes you. She’s always saying how great you are.’
To you, yes, I think, chewing the end of my pencil.
He frowns. ‘Though I think she did want to help with the food at my birthday.’
‘You should have let her then,’ I lie. ‘I wouldn’t have minded.’
Though actually, I realise, I would have minded like buggery. It occurs to me that I’m actually jealous of what Pussy and Sam have. He looks after her so well. I don’t have that kind of security. Jake’s always too busy rushing back to look after Fishpants and the baby, and with Nick, it’s me doing the looking after. He’s a big kid, after all.