Baby? Oh fuck my life!
‘I didn’t know about the baby then!’ Ryan shouts.
Didn’t then? Please God, does he think I’m pregnant?
‘Well I don't care that she’s carrying your bastard child. I still want to marry her,’ Stuart says.
‘It's not my baby! How many times, it's not my baby!’ Ryan shouts.
‘It's not!’ I shout. ‘It's not true!’ I shout.
‘I don't care whose baby it is Poppy,’ Ryan says, not moving his gaze from Stuart. ‘It honestly doesn’t matter to me.’
‘She’s still coming with me. Come on Poppy.’ Stuart starts tugging me the other way, glaring at Ryan with revulsion.
‘She said she doesn’t want to go with you,’ Ryan says, tugging me his way, his eyes back with fury.
‘Both of you just get off me!’ I shout, releasing myself from their grasp.
‘Just go and see Melinda,’ Stuart says, throwing me back angrily.
I lose my footing and fall back onto the wet grass. I look up in shock through the rain just in time to see Ryan’s infuriated face.
‘Poppy! Are you OK?’ He rushes over to pick me up. His hands are trembling from what I think is rage.
‘Yeah, I...I...’
Bam! Ryan turns and smacks Stuart straight in the mouth sending him flying backwards. Stuart looks up in shock but his face quickly turns monstrous. He runs at him, his face contorted and tries to punch him, but Ryan ducks and plunges towards him, throwing him onto the grass. Stuart manages to punch him back. They take turns rolling around in the mud punching and kicking each other.
‘Stop!’ I all I can shout, feeling completely helpless. They ignore me and carry on.
Oh my God. They’re going to kill each other and it's all my fault. I run into the hall and grab Ollie and Richard who are on their way out for a cigarette.
‘Po Po, what the hell happened to you?’ Ollie laughs, taking in my muddy back side.
‘Quick, they’re fighting!’ I shout, dragging them outside.
By the time we get back there’s blood coming from Ryan’s nose and Stuart’s eyebrow is busted open. Ollie and Richard try to jump in, but they just seem to get involved in it, making the fighting group bigger. Elbows are thrust into faces, shins are kicked, arms and legs everywhere. Within a few seconds the fight seems to somehow spill into the hall and onto the dance floor.
People jump out of the way as they all scuffle, skidding to the centre of the dance floor. People stare, horror and shock on their faces. Richard and Ollie don't seem to be getting anywhere, just pushed further apart as the brawling continues.
I stare at them helplessly. How on earth can this be happening?
Ryan and Stuart lock onto each other and fall sideways, heading for the...oh shit, the buffet table. The table collapses as they plunge into it, smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches falling to the floor. You’d think this would stop them, but they’re too busy trying to get the other into a head lock to even seem to notice.
‘Stop fucking filming!’ I scream at the videographer who’s turned his attention from the happy couple to the brawl.
Richard and Ollie finally manage to drag Stuart off Ryan and begin trying to reason with them.
‘Calm down Stu, it's not worth it!’ Richard says, looking at Ryan.
‘I’m cool. I’m fine,’ he says, as they relax their grip.
Stuart runs in a split second towards Ryan, pushing him into a table containing glasses of champagne. They smash into what seems like a million pieces, with them both rolling in the glass, wanting to fight to the death.
‘For God’s sake – stop them!’ I shout to Ollie and Richard.
They run over and with the help of my Dad and Henry, manage to hold them back from each other.
‘What the fuck is going on!?’ Henry shouts over the music which is still playing.
‘It's him,’ Stuart shouts from Richard’s grip. ‘He’s been trying it on with my fiancée.’
‘I’m not your fiancée!’ I scream, anger bulging through my veins.
Gasps fill the room. I turn to see a mix of started and confused faces. Abbey’s relatives whisper amongst themselves, already branding us white trash.
‘What?’ Stuart shouts his face red with fury. ‘Don't tell me it's because of him!’
‘You heard her. She doesn’t want you!’ Ryan snarls, blood dripping from his nose.
‘Just shut up! Of course I’m not your fiancée, you idiot!’ I shout, so sick of him and this whole act.
‘Poppy! You don't know what you’re saying,’ my Mum says, suddenly by my side, clutching onto my arm.
‘Yes I do Mum! Just stay out of this.’
‘I will NOT! I will not let you ruin your life,’ she shouts, her face panic-stricken.
‘What!? So you think that by taking back a mean, controlling twat like him...I’ll be helping myself?’
‘Mind your language young lady!’ she shouts before turning her attention to Ollie. ‘I’m not going to let you be a screw up like your brother! You can’t just go around bringing bastard babies into the world.’
Wow Mum. Wow.
Ollie goes to stand up for himself but then sighs heavily as he realises he can’t be bothered.
‘Why can’t you both just be like Richard and Henry!?’ she exclaims, her face getting redder by the second.
‘Really?’ Richard says. ‘You think she should be happily married like me?’ He looks at Annabel who is quietly trying to back out of the room. ‘I’m not happily married! Annabel and I are getting a divorce.’
‘W…what?’ she stammers, looking around at the crowd, hot humiliation showing on her cheeks.
‘A DIVORCE!’ he screams back, his cheeks pink. ‘We only played happily families today because I knew you’d cause a scene. Like you always do. But fuck it, Poppy caused the scene, so why shouldn’t I join in? Maybe I should try living a bit more like Poppy and Ollie. They seem happier than I am! They don’t bow to your pressure!’
‘But…but…it’s only because I love you all,’ she sniffs. ‘I just want you to be happy.’
‘We are happy,’ I say quietly. ‘You just need to let us get on with it.’
For a second I think she’s thinking it through, wondering if she has been an interfering mother. Then she turns to Ryan.
‘He’s ruined everything! Just get him the hell out of here!’ she screams.
What was I thinking? My mother, admit that she might have been wrong? Obviously not.
‘Gladly!’ I scream. I walk over to him and release him from Ollie’s clutches.
‘Come on.’
I take his arm and pull him away towards the reception area. I turn around to face the crowd and decide to put the record straight once and for all.
‘Oh and just so everyone knows. I’m NOT pregnant! And I’m NOT marrying Stuart.’
Ryan and I walk in silence as I guide him towards the reception desk.
‘Excuse me, but can I have the key for my room. I seem to have mislaid it. I think its room thirty five.’
I just hope someone picks my handbag up for me. The immaculate reception clerk looks us both up and down judgementally.
‘Do you require any assistance?’ she asks narrowing her eyes at me.
‘No thanks. I just want my key. It's in the name of Poppy Windsor.’
She stares for a moment longer and then clicks onto her keyboard.
‘Here we are. See you at breakfast Miss Windsor.’ She takes one more disapproving look at both of us and then turns back to her computer screen.
‘Come on,’ I say, dangling the key in front of him. ‘I’ll get you cleaned up.’
He smiles weakly but I can tell he’s in pain, the blood still dripping from his nose. I press the lift button.
‘So, you’re definitely not pregnant?’ he asks, his face serious.
‘Definitely not. It was a misunderstanding that got a bit out of control.’
He smiles as if he’s thinking ‘of course, it's Poppy – there’s always a drama.’
The lift opens, presenting an old grey haired couple who instantly look alarmed.
‘You kids look like you’ve been having fun,’ the lady says, smiling warmly as they walk past us.
We both look at each other and smile.
‘We used to have fun, didn’t we dear,’ the old man says to her, kissing her on her hand romantically.
The lift doors close and I catch our reflection in the mirrored door. We look a right state. I thought Ryan looked bad, but I look equally rough. I’m drenched from the rain, my hair already starting to frizz and my dress is covered in mud from where I fell. Not that you could really tell, the difference in colour of the mud and the dress not being much.
‘Well, we look like a sexy pair,’ I say laughing as I turn to him.
His expression is deadly serious.
‘What's wrong?’
‘Pops, I’m so sorry,’ he says, looking pained.
‘What for?’ I ask, desperate to make him feel better.
‘I think it's pretty obvious.’ He wipes blood from his nose with his sleeve.
‘Don't be sorry. I enjoyed seeing you knock the crap out of him.’
He smiles briefly before the tortured look on his face returns.
‘I doubt I’ll be invited to their wedding anniversary party.’
The doors ping open and I help him out of the lift, putting his arm round my shoulders, even though I doubt he needs it. I just want to touch him.