‘It’s so nice,’ Lauren agreed. For whatever reason, her expression didn’t seem to agree with her words. She looked as though she had been dug up and dragged to the table, her usually glowing skin was grey and sallow and her hair was a rat’s nest of tangles, accessorized by her cheap Claire’s Accessories tiara, that I had insisted she wear. Sarah didn’t even reply. She sat opposite me, completely silent with her lips glued together, her face green.
There is no such thing as a dignified hangover when you’re in your thirties. I had never been so thankful that I’d laid off the alcopops when I took a look at my BFFs, both about ready to chuck at any second.
‘Are you having a nice time?’ I asked Lauren, diving straight into the scones. ‘Yay, hen weekend?’
She nodded with grim determination. The tiara really set off the black circles underneath her eyes.
‘The hotel is lovely,’ I continued blithely. Was there ever such a thing as too much clotted cream? No. The answer is no. ‘I wish we didn’t have to leave tonight.’
‘How are you eating?’ Lauren whispered. ‘How are you putting food inside you?’
I shrugged. ‘It’s delicious? And I’m a greedy fucker?’
‘Madeline, language!’
With a mouth stuffed to bursting with warm scone, half a pot of cream and lashings of freshly made jam, I turned slowly, hoping I was having a delayed aural hallucination. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.
‘Looks like I’m just in time for the party.’ A tiny, blonde woman with a huge smile on her face stood behind me eye-balling Lauren. ‘Don’t just sit there catching flies, baby, come and give your mama a hug.’
Lauren stood up slowly. ‘Mom? What are you doing here?’
I looked at Lauren. Lauren looked at me. Sarah closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the table.
This was not good.
‘And so, when Sarah invited me to join you guys, I just knew I had to come along,’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller twittered, settling herself in the seat between myself and her daughter before any of us could find a thing to say. ‘But I have to tell you girls, it wasn’t easy to find this place and goodness me, the price of the taxi was extortionate.’
‘You took a taxi all the way from Bristol?’ I asked as she beamed in my general direction.
‘No, dear.’ She shook her head, brushing her long pale blonde hair over her shoulders. Unconsciously, Lauren did the same thing across the table. ‘From London.’
‘You took a cab all the way here from London?’ Lauren asked. ‘Mom, that’s crazy. It’s like, a hundred miles.’
‘It’s not like a hundred miles,’ she corrected carefully. ‘It is one hundred and fifteen. Lauren, darling, whatever do you have on your head?’
Lauren grabbed blindly at her tiara and tore it out of her hair, taking several tangled blonde wisps with it. Her mother smiled, pleased.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You look like a twelve-year-old at a tea party, silly thing.’
Which was funny because that’s exactly how I felt.
‘So, Sarah invited you?’ I asked. Sarah still hadn’t spoken but her eyebrows drew together in confusion. ‘What a nice surprise.’
‘Yes, I was a little disappointed not to have heard from you, Madeline, it’s been such a long time,’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller gave me a reproachful look. She wasn’t angry, just disappointed. ‘But I was so pleased to be included, it’s been such heartache watching my little girl go through with this shotgun wedding when I’ve been so far away.’
‘It’s not a shotgun wedding—’ Lauren began, only to be shushed by her mother.
‘I brought something for you, Sarah,’ she said, passing a little gift bag across the table. ‘Just to say thank you for thinking of me.’
Sarah moistened her lips and took a deep breath. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered before swallowing hard. She reached inside the bag and pulled out a packet of Hershey’s Kisses and a Maybelline mascara.
‘Your favourites,’ Lauren’s mum said. ‘I remember how excited you girls used to get when you came to visit. Of course, it’s been so long since you’ve been over to me, I don’t even know if they’re still your thing.’
‘They are, Mrs Hobbs-Miller,’ Sarah reassured her. ‘Thank you, Mrs Hobbs-Miller.’
‘How many times am I going to have to remind you guys to call me Vivienne?’ she said with a sparkling laugh. ‘Oh, it’s so nice to be with my girls again.’
We girls glanced around the table at each other. Nice? Hmm.
‘Perhaps don’t eat all those candies at once,’ she said to Sarah as she stashed the bag underneath the table. ‘Lauren tells me your husband left you. The last thing you need right now is to be gaining weight, trust me. Are you a little bigger than the last time I saw you?’
Sarah’s bottom lip began to tremble.
‘You know what?’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller took Lauren’s hand in hers and squeezed it before turning it over to check out her engagement ring and raising an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to run to the ladies’ room and wash up. Be a doll and order for me?’
‘What would you like?’ Lauren mumbled, twisting her diamond around her finger.
Her mum smoothed down her cashmere sweater as she stood. ‘Oh, whatever you’re having, honey. Only no milk. Or gluten. And of course I’m watching my weight so I don’t show you up on your big day. So anything is fine. I’m just so happy to be spending time with you gals.’
‘Oh my god,’ Lauren spat in Sarah’s general direction. ‘What the hell, Sarah?’
‘I didn’t invite her,’ Sarah protested, poking herself in her flat stomach. ‘She sent me a nice card when you asked me to be a bridesmaid and so I emailed her to say thank you and she asked what we were doing for the bachelorette and I told her and honestly, Lauren, I didn’t invite her. I don’t even remember if I mentioned the name of the hotel.’
‘She didn’t send me a card,’ I said, pulling a face.
‘Not about you, right now, Maddie,’ Lauren snapped. ‘I can’t do this right now, I can’t. I’ve been avoiding her since she got into town and I’m way too hungover to deal with it now.’
‘It won’t be that bad, will it?’ Sarah asked pleadingly. I was still sulking. Why hadn’t I got a card? I was a bridesmaid and an unpaid wedding planner. Surely that warranted the price of a stamp? ‘I mean, my mum is hardly mother of the year but it would have been weird if she hadn’t been involved in my wedding, wouldn’t it? This is just the same.’
‘Sarah, my mom only just got here and she already called you fat,’ Lauren replied. ‘She called me a twelve-year-old and has Maddie sulking like a teenager because she didn’t send her a card.’
‘I just don’t see what I did to not deserve a card,’ I muttered.
‘Shut up about the card, Maddie,’ Lauren warned. ‘Right now, we just have to get through this alive.’
‘She looks so sweet,’ Sarah said, staring at the doorway as though she was waiting for an axe murderer to return from the lavs. ‘I just want her to give me a hug and tell me I’m pretty.’
‘Yeah but afterwards you’d find a business card from her plastic surgeon in your pocket and a knife in between your shoulder blades.’ Lauren pasted a smile on her face as her mother reappeared. ‘You can’t win, it’s easier not to try.’
‘Did you order for me?’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller asked, settling back into her seat.
‘Not yet,’ Lauren replied. ‘Sorry.’
‘Hmm,’ she sniffed, still smiling. ‘I hope this husband of yours is an organized soul. You’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on, sweetheart. Thank goodness it’s so pretty.’
‘Lauren told us you’ve met Michael,’ I reached for the sugar bowl before snatching my fingers back. I didn’t need telling I was a porker when I already had jam all over my face. ‘Isn’t he lovely?’
‘He’s a delight,’ she confirmed without hesitation. That wasn’t Lauren’s recollection of the evening but whatever. ‘And such a good man to take on a project like this on
e.’
Lauren looked down at the tablecloth while her mother signalled the waiter.
‘Maddie.’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller turned her attention to me. I sucked in my stomach, combed my fingers through my hair and smiled. ‘Lauren tells me you’re planning the wedding.’
‘I’m helping Lauren,’ I said, nodding. ‘She’s had some amazing ideas. It’s going to be beautiful.’
‘That’s so wonderful and goodness knows she needs the help,’ she said. ‘It’s so nice to see you girls still so close. And planning a wedding can be so hard, have you done it before?’
‘Well, yeah,’ I said, looking over at Lauren. ‘It’s sort of my job.’
‘I thought Lauren said you were an assistant?’
‘An events assistant,’ I replied. ‘I plan weddings. At work. For a living.’
‘That’s so lovely,’ she said, a genuine look of pride on her face. ‘When did you start there?’
‘Uh,’ I reached out and grabbed two sugar lumps before she could say anything. ‘I’ve been there a while.’
‘And you get to do a lot of the actual planning, do you?’ she asked. ‘As an assistant?’
‘Lots,’ I confirmed. Lauren was still refusing to make eye contact. ‘Honest.’
It was like being trapped in the headmaster’s office with a hangover and no bell was going to ring, ever.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, patting my hand. ‘I don’t mean to keep asking, I just want to make sure my baby’s big day is perfect. I’m sure Sarah will agree with me, planning a wedding can be so stressful.’
‘Yeah,’ Sarah said, chewing her bottom lip.
‘Oh, I’m being so silly,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to talk about your wedding right now, do you?’
‘No,’ Sarah said, chewing her bottom lip.
‘Because you’re getting divorced.’
‘Yeah,’ Sarah said, chewing her bottom lip.
We sat in silence for a moment while the waiter poured her tea.
‘So how are you getting along at work, Sarah?’ she asked.
‘I think I might have to pop to the loo,’ Sarah said, wiping a dot of blood from her lips then abruptly pushing her chair away from the table and walking out of the room.
‘Oh no,’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller pressed her hands to her chest. ‘I should go after her, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘It’s OK, Mom,’ Lauren said. ‘She’ll be fine.’
‘It’s best to leave her when she’s upset,’ I added. ‘Sarah doesn’t like a fuss.’
‘Remind me never to come to you two if I need help,’ she said, laughing. ‘Poor Sarah. You can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through, you know.’
Lauren took a deep breath. ‘Here we go,’ she whispered.
‘When your father left me,’ she began, ‘I didn’t know what to do with myself. All alone with two tiny, wilful children.’
‘Mom, I was eighteen,’ Lauren replied. ‘And Jessica had already left home.’
‘Please don’t speak with your mouth full, Lauren,’ she replied. ‘I would lay awake at night, trying to work out what I could possibly have done wrong. How I could have made things better. I felt like we had let him down.’
‘We?’ I asked. Lauren shook her head vehemently.
‘But it’s not your fault when things go wrong,’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller took our hands in hers. ‘Sometimes it just doesn’t work out. Of course, the two of you don’t need to worry about that. Yet. Are you still with that dashing lawyer, Maddie?’
‘No, she’s with a different dashing lawyer,’ Lauren answered for me. Her help was not appreciated.
‘Oh.’ Her mum gave me a bittersweet smile. ‘Well, I guess that’s something. What happened?’
‘He met someone else,’ I said. My face felt hot. ‘It’s fine, it was a long time ago.’
‘Then it’s for the best,’ she said, rapping my hand briskly. ‘Just make sure you don’t make the same mistakes again.’
She was a wonderful woman.
‘None of you are getting any younger,’ she added in a sing-song voice. ‘Now, tell me everything about the wedding, I can’t wait to hear all of your ideas. Half of the things Lauren has shown me seem quite ridiculous. She tells me she wants an ice cream truck at the reception, don’t you think that seems terribly tacky? Before you know it, all the children will be running around with sticky hands, Lauren’s dress will be ruined, there’ll be bees everywhere …’
Under the table, Lauren grabbed my knee.
‘Yeah, um, I already booked that,’ I said. ‘It’s usually very popular.’
‘They do that sort of thing a lot at the weddings you plan, do they?’ she asked, a curious look on her unlined face. ‘Fascinating.’
‘Lauren thought it sounded fun, didn’t you, Lauren?’ I said, nudging my friend.
‘Michael wanted it,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t know. I guess I don’t know if it’s a great idea.’
‘Michael wanted it,’ Mrs Hobbs-Miller squeezed a lemon slice into her tea. ‘Well, that explains everything. Clearly I’ve arrived at just the right time.’
Sipping my sweet, sweet tea, I wondered whether it would be considered impolite to suggest that two weeks after the wedding might be a better time for her to arrive. Or even never.
‘Don’t worry, Maddie,’ she said, leaning her head to one side and smiling. ‘I’m here to help. We’ll get everything ship-shape in no time now.’
‘Has she gone?’ I asked as Lauren appeared in the doorway of the spa, clad in a fluffy white robe.
She nodded, holding her arms around herself tightly. ‘She’s gone,’ she confirmed. ‘I told her that we were taking a pole dancing lesson and she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Sarah said, holding her arms out for a hug which Lauren threw herself into. ‘I’d totally forgotten how scary she can be.’
‘And she likes you,’ she replied with a sniff. ‘Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen. She was never here.’
‘I still don’t know why I didn’t get a card,’ I said, pouring myself a glass of spa water.
‘I can’t believe I’m still hungover,’ Sarah said, changing the subject swiftly. Cow. ‘I feel like a skunk crawled down my throat and died.’
‘I can’t believe you got off with a child,’ I replied. ‘How old was he? Eighteen?’
‘Twenty-two,’ she threw me a filthy look. ‘And we don’t ever need to talk about that again, thanks.’
‘You made out with a twenty-two-year-old?’ Lauren clucked. ‘Oh my God, Sarah, that’s nasty.’
‘I may or may not have called Steve,’ she said, holding out her hands to cut us off. ‘And don’t ask because it did not go well and I don’t want to talk about it. So yes, I snogged a twenty-two-year-old. Clearly it’s both of your faults because you weren’t there to stop me.’
‘Then it’s Lauren’s fault,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t the one puking my guts up and telling everyone who would listen about the size of my boyfriend’s wang.’
My phone beeped quietly in the pocket of my dressing gown, but not quietly enough for Eagle Ears Hempel to miss it.
‘Ooh, speaking of wangs,’ she grinned. ‘Who is it? Is it Will? Is it another photo of his knob? I want to see it.’
‘It is not another photo of his knob.’ I should never have shown her the first one. ‘Don’t say it like he’s sent me hundreds.’
He had sent me six. It might seem like a lot written down, but they all made sense at the time and he was awfully proud of it. Eleanor has sent me about a thousand photos of her baby and she’s only been in my life two weeks longer than Will’s penis, so I think that number is fine.
‘Is it from Will?’ Lauren asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Is it a photo of his penis?’ Sarah asked.
I sighed.
‘Yes.’
‘Can we see it?’ Lauren asked.
There just didn’t seem any point in arguing with them, so
I handed over my phone.
‘You can never tell him I showed you,’ I said. If he had shown pictures of me to any of his friends I would have killed him, but this seemed to be one situation where double standards really did exist. As I said, he was very proud of his penis. ‘Now give it back.’
‘What angle is he taking it from?’ Lauren asked, turning the phone round in her hand trying to work it out before the picture resized itself on the screen. ‘Are you sure it’s not his thumb?’
‘Bloody big thumb,’ Sarah said, pulling a face. ‘Look, that’s his leg and that’s his—’
‘OK, we’ve seen enough.’ I held my hand out for my phone. ‘Give it back.’
‘Can I send him a photo of my tits?’ Sarah asked. ‘Let’s all send him a photo of our tits!’
‘Oh my God, yes!’ Lauren clapped her hands, spilling her orange juice all over her white robe. ‘Guys love tits!’
‘No one is sending him a photo of anyone’s tits,’ I said. I hated having to be the matron of the group, but there was No Way. ‘Will doesn’t want a photo of anyone’s tits − he’s just being silly.’
He did want a photo of someone’s tits. He wasn’t being silly.
‘What’s going on with the other one?’ Sarah asked through a mouthful of cheese. ‘Tom?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, twisting my hair into a ponytail on top of my head, still utterly confused after my conversation with Will earlier. ‘I’m organizing a party for him and that’s all.’
‘And texting him at one a.m.,’ she reminded me. ‘Classic Maddie.’
‘I still can’t believe he danced with you,’ Lauren said, falling into a mock swoon. ‘It’s so romantic.’
‘It wasn’t romantic,’ I said, lying to her and myself. ‘It was uncomfortable. What kind of bloke does that?’
‘A romantic,’ Lauren argued. ‘I’d rather someone took me dancing than sent me a photo of his semi-erect penis.’
‘Yeah, like, at least get a full hard-on,’ Lauren sniffed, turning to Sarah with a confident nod. ‘That’s why I thought it was a thumb.’