As the news sinks in, Sam wanders around making hot, sweet tea as though we’ve just been through some kind of emergency, and Janice just stands there looking blatantly bloody furious. Her face wears exactly the same expression it did when Johnny Martin, who she was only with because it was rumoured he had a twelve-inch kidney wiper, snogged her then vommed in her mouth. She’s absolutely horrified. She simply can’t believe I’ve beaten her to it. I’ll be waltzing up that aisle before her. And her with her new underwear and all. But then she always has been very competitive as far as I’m concerned. To her, this is just like the time I pipped her to the post in the 100 m charity butterfly at college. She refused to share her fags with me for a month after that.
‘You will be my bridesmaid, won’t you?’ I tease, enjoying my moment of glory. Janice is so jealous she’s turned the colour of Swarfega. ‘Bet you didn’t think in a million years I’d be marching up that aisle before you. Isn’t it going to be weird, being able to say “my husband this” and “my husband that”?’
‘But…’she stammers, looking aghast. ‘How? Who? And when?’
‘And why? Why didn’t you tell us?’ Sam blurts out.
‘I am telling you.’
‘But we didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. Is it someone we know? Are you pregnant?’
‘Don’t be stupid.’
‘Because if you are, we’ll support you. You don’t have to rush into anything, you know. Ouch!’ he yelps, as a pissed-off Pussy digs him in the ribs.
‘Who is he?’ Pussy asks. ‘Is he successful?’
‘I should bloody say so,’ George interrupts, throwing her one of his ‘looks’. I’m delighted he obviously hates her as much as I do.
‘You already knew about this?’ Sam starts to look cross.
‘Course, darling.’ George winces as David, almost imperceptibly, steps on his toe.
‘You can’t have met someone,’ Janice spits. ‘You never even go out. And you said you were happy being single. You said…’
God. I feel as though I’ve promised her sweets at the checkout, then changed my mind at the last minute.
‘What’s going on?’ Sam eyes George with all the affection one usually reserves for a rabid dog.
‘I mean,’ Janice carries on, ‘you were the one who said you wanted to be single for ever. I thought you’d be like those women in Sainsburys with the purple holey tights and the knitted berets. I thought, I honestly thought you’d end up living in your car or taking over from that woman who stands on Trinity Road roundabout and flashes her bum at cars.’
‘It’s not Jake, is it?’ Sam interrupts, a worried expression flickering across his face.
‘Who?’ I ask. ‘The woman on Trinity Road roundabout? I don’t think so. I mean I know Jake is kind of fond of flashing his arse around, but I don’t think even an old slutbucket like him would want every Tom, Dick and Harry in Wandsworth bogging at his bum.’
‘You know full well what I mean.’
‘I didn’t really want to tell you all yet,’ I tease. ‘Not until I’d told my mum. But…’
Like buggery I’m telling my mum. She’ll have a hairy baby if she so much as catches an inkling of what I’m planning to do. After all, we’re talking wedding fake here, not wedding cake. This isn’t exactly what she planned for me when she scrimped and saved on her schoolteacher’s salary to put me through university. Somehow, I can’t exactly see her dusting down the hatbox and talking royal icing. And I can’t bear to hurt her feelings by playing the ‘no grandchildren’ card again. So as far as she’s concerned, I’m keeping well and truly schtum. After all, what the eye doesn’t see and all that.
‘Well.’ I shrug ‘You’re my best friends in the world.’
‘With the exception of her.’ George points at Pussy.
I ignore him. I can see Sam’s furious already.
‘So of course it would mean an awful lot to me if you could all be there for my big day. We were hoping for the Fourth of July…’
‘Independence Day,’ says Sam, not without a touch of irony. I ignore him too.
‘But everything was booked up so we’re going for early September instead. So don’t say I don’t give you plenty of notice.’
Janice is silent. In fact, she’s too busy hyperventilating to say anything at all. Considering the possibility of slapping her face on the pretext of calming her down, I reject it in case it’s construed as an attempt on my part at taking the piss.