My Fake Wedding(96)

On Sunday morning I wake early with worries about Sam and the whole giving away thing rolling around inside my head. I wander through to the bright kitchen, where George, in his favourite pink slippers, drinks fresh coffee at the table and pecks out text messages to someone in his office about the contestants they’ve got for tomorrow’s show. David, naked apart from a pair of flappy billabong shorts, is sat opposite him with his feet on the table, chattering excitedly on the telephone to his sister Nettie in Australia. From what I can gather, he’s telling her all about our wedding, as though it’s the most normal thing in the world. Obviously no secrets there.

‘Are you inviting your mum to our wedding?’ I ask George, when the beeping of his phone has ceased, signalling an end to the frantic volley of text messages.

‘I don’t know.’ He looks miserable. ‘I really want to. I mean, it’d be nice for her to be able to dress up and have somewhere to go. But I just can’t imagine having to explain it all to her.’

‘She’s tougher than you think, you know, George.’ I fetch a purple mug from the cupboard and pour myself a coffee. ‘Why don’t you try her? I think she’d be pleased for you.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘I might.’ He sounds a bit forlorn. Then, looking at me, he’s back to his old self again. ‘God, darling. You look totally RAF.’

‘What’s that?’ David finishes telling his sister all about the article he’s writing on the contents of Posh Spice’s make-up bag and puts the phone down. ‘Oooh. Coffee. Yummy.’

‘Katie,’ George jerks his head towards me as if I’m not there, ‘looks terrible. What’s the matter, darling? Business gone under already? You look as though you haven’t slept for weeks.’

‘God, yes.’ David sips coffee and looks apologetic. ‘Sorry, love, but you do look a bit shit. You could carry all of George’s lotions and potions around for months in those eyebags.’

‘I can’t sleep,’ I say honestly. ‘I’m nervous about the wedding. And I don’t know what to do about Jake.’

‘Are you in love with him?’

‘I don’t think so.’ I shake my head. ‘And then there’s Nick. You know the bike guy?’

‘Yes,’ they chorus, excited at the thought of gossip. ‘We know the bike guy.’

‘I’m still sleeping with him.’

‘Ooooh,’ George says with evident relish. ‘Utterly slutterly. Do tell.’

‘Well, he seems to like me,’ I say. ‘But he’s eighteen. And we have nothing in common.’

‘So?’ George shrugs.

‘So I’m starting to realise that meaningless sex isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’

‘Fine, fine,’ George says dismissively. ‘I mean, sorry to seem callous but as long as none of them are actually hurting your feelings, can we get on to more important matters? Like the wedding? Now, the theme is NCP.’

‘You want to hold the wedding in a multi-storey car park?’ I ask in surprise.

‘Don’t be thick, darling.’ George looks at me. ‘I mean No Common People. Although I suppose we can let Janice come, even though she’s been dipped in the peasant pot more than once. She is your best friend, after all. After me, of course.’

‘That’s if she’s still talking to me,’ I reason. ‘After what I said about Jasper.’

‘Of course she is.’ George sips coffee.

‘Don’t forget the surprise.’ David nudges George. ‘Oh.’ George waves his hands around excitedly. ‘The surprise. Of course. Oh, Katie. You’ll never guess what we’ve planned for you.’

Of course I can’t guess. And George can’t help telling me before I can even try. And when he does, I’m gobsmacked.

‘A hen weekend?’ I ask, just to be sure I’ve heard him right. ‘Yes.’ George looks so pleased with himself you’d have thought he’d just invented the wheel.

‘It was Nettie’s idea.’ David looks proud. ‘She says if she can’t come to the wedding, the least she can do is contribute some ideas.’

‘She can come if she wants. I don’t mind having your family there.’

‘She can’t.’ David shakes his head. ‘For a start, she’ll call me Davo in front of everybody and they’ll all think I’m some straight Australian wide boy.’

‘You’re supposed to be straight,’ I point out. ‘For one day, at least.’

‘I know.’ David laughs. ‘She can’t come anyway. She can’t take Iris and Isabella out of school. Shame really. I’d love to see them.’