Rainbow is totally hyperactive. ‘OMG! Look at this. I’m completely INCREDIBLISED. It’s all Hollywood and EVERYTHING. I bet the Kardashians stay in places like this. It’s so A-LIST!’ She runs round opening and closing all the doors, checking out what’s in every drawer. ‘Kettle. Hairdryer. Ironing board. You could TOTALLY live here!’
Lija lies down on the bed and closes her eyes. ‘Heaven.’
‘Thank you, Edie,’ I say. ‘It’s wonderful.’
‘You’re welcome. Nothing too much trouble for my older sister.’
I wonder whether I should have booked somewhere like this for our wedding night but, if I’m honest, I’d rather go back to The Dreamcatcher to be with Danny. This is a super treat, but it’s not really us.
Rainbow runs out of the bathroom, clutching a fluffy robe. ‘Check out the DRESSING GOWNS!’ She models hers. ‘Totally LUSH.’
‘Pre-dinner cocktails, ladies,’ my sister says. ‘Ta-dah!’ She delves into her wheelie case and pulls out a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin followed by two or three other spirits and cordial along with a bag of limes. ‘May I present to you the Laverstoke! Glasses, Rainbow.’
Obligingly, Rainbow finds the glasses in my room and then brings the ones from their room too.
‘It should have slices of fresh ginger in it,’ Edie says as she mixes, ‘but that was too much of a shag.’
‘I’m sure we’ll manage,’ I offer.
‘I’ve got a non-alcoholic one for you, Lija,’ she says.
Lija rolls her eyes. ‘Joy.’
I want to point out that Rainbow should, at her tender years, maybe have just a small cocktail, but then that makes me feel like The Responsible Adult and I’m going to let my hair down. I’m sure Rainbow has forgotten more than I know about how to handle alcohol in a sensible manner. If two of my bridesmaids have hangovers, then so be it.
Edie mixes us cocktails and Rainbow plonks a big carrier bag on the bed and tips a colourful tangle of knitwear onto the duvet. ‘Bad taste Christmas jumpers,’ she squeals. ‘Courtesy of eBay.’
Lija opens her eyes and recoils in horror when she sees Rainbow holding a garishly bright jumper in front of her. ‘I would rather stick pins in eyes. Christmas or not flipping Christmas, I am not wearing that thing in public.’
‘You SO are,’ Rainbow says. ‘I got this one especially for you.’ She passes Lija a black sweater with BAH HUMBUG written on it in big, sparkly letters.
Lija brightens. ‘Cool.’
I get a red jumper with a worried-looking turkey on the front. Edie has Santa stuck in a chimney showing his butt crack and Rainbow has one that says, DASHER, DANCER, PRANCER, VIXEN, COMET, CUPID, DARYL DIXON and has a picture of Norman Reedus bearing his customary crossbow and wearing a Santa hat. Even though I don’t have a television, I know more about the delights of The Walking Dead than I need to, courtesy of Rainbow.
‘These are excellent,’ I say.
‘Put them on! Put them on!’ Rainbow urges.
So we all strip off our tops and replace them with the unseemly Christmas sweaters. Edie hands round the cocktails. ‘To Fay and Danny,’ she proposes and we drink.
‘To Christmas!’ I offer. We drink again.
‘To being a BRIDESMAID,’ Rainbow trills.
‘To Christmas being flipping over.’ Lija glowers at her booze-free cocktail.
Edie puts her arm round me. ‘I’m the only one who’s not a bridesmaid.’ She pouts at me.
‘Of course you must be a bridesmaid. The girls are just wearing what they want to. I’m sure you’ve got something suitable in your wardrobe.’
‘Great,’ Edie says. ‘I won’t let you down.’
‘You’ll probably be better dressed than I will be.’ Edie’s outfit certainly won’t be from a charity shop. Which reminds me that I still have some mending to do.
By the time dinner comes round we are less sober and righteous than we might be so, thankfully, they put us in a cosy corner away from the main dining area where we can be noisy. More drink is taken.
Back in the room, on Rainbow’s instruction, we take off our jumpers and change into the fluffy robes.
‘We’re having more costume changes than a BEYONCÉ concert!’ she trills, ecstatically, her little cheeks pink with cocktails.
She also produces a bright pink BRIDE TO BE sash for me to wear, along with a pink tiara. Then she makes us all hot chocolate from the hospitality tray, producing a can of squirty cream and a tub of multicoloured sprinkles from her wheelie case.
‘You’ve thought of everything.’
‘I’ve got chocolate COCKS too.’ She delves into her bag and pulls out a box of confectionary willies, waving them at us. ‘They’re only LITTLE ones. Not like PROPER man-size.’
‘Cocktail cocks.’ Lija regards them with disdain, but eats one with relish nevertheless.
‘Pah!’ Edie says. ‘You won’t get Fay putting a cock in her mouth. Chocolate or otherwise. I’m the only one in the family who … well, never mind.’
‘Of course I’m up for one,’ I say gamely and am given a willy to chew on. I consider this getting off lightly, considering how my hen party might have gone.
Rainbow delves into her case once more. ‘Secret Santa PRESENTS! WOO-HOO!’
We exchange presents – hastily bought and wrapped in my case as I’d already chosen their presents ready to go under the tree for Christmas day. Rainbow tears into hers.
‘Look at me RIPPING this up,’ she says. ‘My nana folds it all really carefully so she can use it again. She recycles cards and EVERYTHING. She’d go MENTAL if she saw this.’ Rainbow gaily rips another strip from her present. ‘WHEEEEEE!’
There are face paints for Rainbow and my present is a rainbow-coloured neckerchief for Diggery. Edie gets a wand with a sparkly tiara at the end and, for Lija, a pink, sparkly ‘Baby on Board’ sticker for her car which makes her cry a bit.
Rainbow insists on painting all of our faces with snowflakes and I’m relieved we didn’t exchange pressies before we went to dinner or I’d have to have eaten my meal looking like Elsa from Frozen. When she’s finished, she waves a DVD at us. ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary. My nan says that NO ONE rocks a Christmas jumper better than Colin Firth.’
Rainbow’s nan might have a point.
‘But first …’ She brandishes some red nail polish. ‘More beautification. Manicures and pedicures!’
I can’t think of the last time I wore nail polish, but I’ve already learned that I won’t get away from this, so I sit back with my hot chocolate, adjust my tiara and let Rainbow attend to my fingers and toes. When she’s finished with me, she daubs Edie and Lija too.
‘We’re all matching and EVERYTHING. This is going to be one SICK wedding!’
When Rainbow starts on her own nails, I slip into the bathroom and sit on the lid of the loo while I call Danny.
‘Hey,’ he says. ‘Having a good time?’
‘Yes. I feel nineteen again.’
‘That’s a good thing?’
‘I’ve had more cocktails than I can remember and a chocolate willy or two.’
‘OK.’ He sounds a bit unsure about the last bit.
‘I’ve worn a bad taste Christmas jumper and am now sporting a lurid sash and tiara. I have glittery snowflakes all over my cheeks.’ Which I’m hoping will wash off by tomorrow. ‘I’ve just had a manicure and my toes painted. You won’t recognise me.’
‘Sounds as if Rainbow has all the essential hen party bases covered.’
‘She’s done a great job. And for the finale we’re about to watch Bridget Jones’s Diary.’
‘Glad you’re having a good time.’
‘I’m missing you,’ I say. ‘What are you doing? Are you at Stan’s?’ There seems to be quite a bit of background noise that I can’t make out.
‘Yeah. Having an evening of quiet contemplation.’
‘I can hear all sorts of banging and chatter.’
‘Must be on the telly.’
‘Oh. You?
??re not having second thoughts?’
‘Erm …’ He leaves an agonising pause, during which my heart bangs in my chest. ‘No.’
‘Don’t tease. I’m serious.’
‘There’s nothing that will make me happier.’
‘Good.’ I hold the phone closer as if it will bring Danny nearer. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be back to get the food prepared.’
‘Hmm,’ Danny says. ‘Maybe talk to Lija about that.’
‘Why? What?’
‘Relax,’ he says. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Fay.’ Then he hangs up.
When I come out of the bathroom, Lija is waving her fingers around to dry her nail polish. ‘What’s happening tomorrow?’ I ask. ‘It sounds as if I’ve missed out on part of the plan.’
‘We’re all going to have cooked breakfast, then we are going home to make food for wedding while you have relaxing massage.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s all booked,’ Edie confirms. ‘You can’t be making sandwiches and stuff on your wedding day.’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Well, you should,’ my sister says. ‘We’ll come back and pick you up in plenty of time to get ready and whisk you to the register office.’
‘You’re spoiling me.’
She kisses my cheek. ‘That’s what sisters do.’
When we’re all filed and painted, Rainbow hands out posh popcorn – even though we’ve just had a three-course dinner – dims the lights and we settle on the big, comfy bed to watch the film.
I put my arm round her and give her a squeeze. ‘This is the best hen party ever,’ I tell her.
‘Cool.’ There’s a big satisfied grin on her cherubic face. ‘Don’t smudge your nails.’
Chapter Fifty-Nine
It’s so late when we get to bed. We had to watch the bit where Bridget goes after Mark Darcy in the snow time and time again. Rainbow had a good weep. In fact, she cried so much she made her snowflakes run.
Lija looks a little tired this morning and I wonder if our late night has taken its toll on her too.
‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘Yeah. Baby may have kicked me for first time.’ She places a hand on her bump. ‘Or may be trapped fart. Here.’ She takes my hand and covers the same spot.
I feel a ripple beneath my fingers. ‘Definitely a baby moving.’
‘Good.’ Lija risks a wary slow smile.
‘It seems very real now. It will all be fine, you know.’
‘So you keep saying.’ Lija sighs. ‘But first, we have wedding. Anything you need me to do?’
‘Can you nip to the supermarket for some roses for bouquets? Danny’s picked me a basket of holly and fronds of conifer, but it might need a little extra.’
‘Romantic bastard,’ she notes with a shake of her head. ‘He’s too much.’
‘Some red flowers if possible. Roses would be nice.’
‘Sure.’ She shrugs. ‘I can do this.’
So Lija scoots out and brings back three bunches of red roses for a fiver and I put them in water in the sink in my bathroom. We have a huge cooked breakfast together and then the girls go back to the house and leave me alone. I feel quite teary as I watch them go off without me.
I take myself to the spa and I have a lovely massage – a new experience for me. The lady finds knots in muscles that I didn’t even know I had, but I come out feeling relaxed and a little spaced out.
Then I don’t quite know what to do with myself, so I try to embrace the concept of ‘chilling out’. I shouldn’t really call Danny on my wedding day, so I sit around in the hotel lounge – in a slightly blissed-out, slightly stressed state – and flick through all the magazines spread out on the coffee tables in the lounge while eating the last of the chocolate cocks. I listen to the Christmas carols on loop, marvel at the size of the Christmas tree and watch people coming and going. Brisk businessmen and -women in dark suits, families with fractious kids, giggly couples who can’t keep their hands off each other, parties of jolly friends here for pre-Christmas lunches. All of life is here.
I go back to the room and, finally, make the few necessary repairs to my wedding dress. I take the bunches of beautiful red roses and arrange them with some of the holly and foliage that Danny collected for me. I tie them with red ribbon that I bought a few days ago. One each for me, Edie, Lija and Rainbow. They look simple but lovely and I hope the girls like them as much as I do.
Before I know it, Edie, Lija and Rainbow are back. We go up to the room and get dressed.
‘I’m going to do your hair and make-up,’ Rainbow says.
‘I’m not really sure …’
Yet, before I can protest further, my hair is scraped back and she’s slapping foundation on my face. For the next fifteen minutes, she assaults me with a range of brushes, pencils, mascara wands and goodness knows what else. Then she plugs in something that looks like an instrument of torture and sets about my hair with it.
‘Is this absolutely necessary?’ Rainbow is deep into the zone, tongue out in concentration.
‘Be quiet, Fay,’ Edie says from across the room. ‘You look fabulous.’
When Rainbow’s finally finished primping me, I slip into my red velvet coat dress.
‘You’ll be glad of that.’ Edie smooths down the back. ‘It’s freezing out there. The sky is so low and heavy, it’s barely above the hedges.’
I do up the final button and give a twirl. ‘What do you think?’
‘OMG!’ Rainbow does a little excited dance.
Edie whips open the wardrobe to uncover a full-length mirror and, reluctantly, I find myself shepherded towards it. ‘Looking good, sis.’
When I bring myself to look in the glass, a groomed and glossy creature stares back at me. Danny won’t even know it’s me as I hardly recognise myself. I examine my powdered brows, my full, red lips and come to the conclusion that Rainbow has done quite a good job.
Rainbow has her hands clasped anxiously. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I think you’ve worked a miracle,’ I say.
‘Yaaaaay!’
I run my hands down my dress. ‘That’s it. I’m ready.’
‘Let’s get you to that register office then.’
Standing back, I look at my bridesmaids. Lija is in her black dress and Doc Martens looking paler than ever. Rainbow looks like some kind of cute angel. The addition of lacy wings to her white seventies hippy dress only adds to the impression. Edie is rocking the Audrey Hepburn look that she does so well. She’s wearing a cream, fitted dress with long black gloves. Her white designer coat is over her arm.
‘I wish I had a hat,’ she says, pulling on her gloves. ‘A black pill box would really set this off.’
‘You all look lovely.’
‘I bought you this.’ Rainbow gives me a small blue box.
‘You shouldn’t have.’
‘It’s for now,’ she says. So I open it and inside is a silver heart necklace, studded with tiny rainbow-coloured crystals.
‘It’s Swarovski and EVERYTHING.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ She fastens it round my neck for me.
‘Do you REALLY love it or are you doing FAKE love?’
‘I really love it,’ I assure her.
‘I wanted to give you something special on your big day. My nan helped me choose it.’
‘She has very good taste.’
‘Yeah. I love her to the moon and back. She needs a BOYFRIEND. I don’t like her being on her own. Well, except for me, my dad, my brother and the dog. I thought we might pair her up with Stan at the wedding.’
I twist my head to look at her. ‘Your nan’s coming along?’
She flushes red. ‘Er … only afterwards. Not to the register office THINGY. I thought that might be OK. Is it?’
‘Of course. I hadn’t thought to invite her.’ If I’m honest, I hadn’t really thought to invite anyone. Perhaps we’ve taken ‘small wedding’ to the extreme. ‘I should have said. I’m de
lighted she’ll be there. I’d love to meet her. You could have brought that young man you liked at the afternoon tea the other day too.’
More flushing from Rainbow. ‘OMG. He is soooooo LUSH. If he was in a boy band, he’d be, like, the lead singer or SOMETHING.’
Lija rolls her eyes. ‘Stop twittering,’ she says to Rainbow.
‘Anyway,’ I say to take the girl’s embarrassment away, ‘I’m not sure that your nan is Stan’s type. How old is she again?’
‘Nearly SIXTY,’ Rainbow says, looking horrified. ‘WELL old. They’d be perfect. Stan’s old too.’
‘That fact hadn’t escaped my notice.’
‘We should hit the road,’ Edie says. ‘The time slot at the register office is quite tight. You’re the last wedding in before they close for Christmas.’
I get a nervous jolt in my tummy. ‘I am doing the right thing?’
Then they all look at me in amazement and burst out laughing. I’ll take that as a yes then.
Chapter Sixty
I check my watch again. It’s a scant five minutes before we’re due to get married, and of Danny there’s no sign. There’s a tense hush inside Bletchley register office.
‘Ring him again,’ Edie whispers.
With a sigh I punch in the number once more. ‘It’s going straight to voicemail again.’ I listen to Danny’s chirpy message and, as I’ve already left several urgent pleas for him to call me, hang up. I give my newly manicured fingernails an anxious chew. ‘He’s not coming.’
‘Of course he is,’ Edie snaps.
‘Maybe it’s Stan.’ I try Stan’s phone too, but he’s not picking up either. Does that make it better or worse? Are they together? Has something awful happened to Danny or to Stan?
I pace the corridor, fixing my eyes on the worn carpet. We are the last wedding on the list today and the registrar is getting a bit impatient that my intended is nowhere in sight. She’s been popping in and out for the last ten minutes, tutting as she does. Now she comes out of her office again and pats her tidy greying chignon. Her mouth is a thin, tight line when she says, ‘We’re running out of time, Miss Merryweather.’ A pointed glance at the clock above the door. ‘The office closes for Christmas very shortly.’