The Accidental Proposal (12 page)

BOOK: The Accidental Proposal
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‘But what?’

‘That’ll cost a fortune. And you’ve already . . .’ Sam stops talking, and fingers her engagement ring.

‘Oh.’ I swallow hard. I hadn’t thought of that, particularly in the light of the four hundred and twenty-nine pounds I’ve also just spent on my new suit. ‘I mean, so? I can afford it. And you’re worth it,’ I add, sounding like a bad shampoo advert. ‘And seeing as the wedding’s going to be so low-key, please let me do something that shows everybody how much I love you.’

Sam puts her notebook down and takes my hand. ‘Edward, I know how much you love me. And I love you the same way. Surely that’s what’s important? Not some big, ostentatious party.’

‘Yes, but I want this wedding to be a celebration. Part of it, anyway. And so if we can’t do the church thing, then at least let me have this?’

Sam opens her mouth as if to say something, but then evidently thinks better of it. Instead, she just leans over and gives me a hug. ‘Okay, then.’

‘Great. So don’t you worry about it. Dan and I will make the arrangements.’

‘Are you sure?’

I kiss her on the forehead. ‘Positive. I’ll go and speak to the hotel tomorrow.’

‘No, I meant about getting Dan involved.’

‘Why not? In fact, I’ll get him to arrange the whole thing. It’ll give him something to do given his current unemployed status, plus hopefully it’ll help him get into his best-man role.’

Sam looks a little unsure. ‘Here’s hoping. And has he arranged anything else? For the stag night, I mean?’

I walk over and open the fridge, on the off-chance that there’ll be something unhealthy in there for lunch. ‘I don’t know. Probably the usual strippers or something.’

‘Or something?’

‘Yes, you know Dan.’

‘Which is exactly what worries me.’

‘Don’t worry. He’s promised he’ll look out for me on the night.’

‘Hmm,’ says Sam. ‘The only person Dan ever looks out for is himself. Are you sure it’s such a good idea?’

I shut the fridge door again. Everything in there is a little too green for my liking. ‘Sam, Dan’s not going to let me get into trouble. He knows how important all this is to me.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Sam turns her attention back to her notebook, and uncaps her pen. ‘So have you thought any more about who you want to invite?’

‘Well, like I said, Dan’s taking care of that. But it’s men only, I’m afraid. After all, you wouldn’t want me turning up and crashing your hen night, would you?’

‘To the
wedding
, Ed. I’ve done my family, so who else do you want to come?’

‘Oh. Right.’ I puff out my cheeks while I think for a second or two, then catch sight of my reflection in the window and decide it’s not the most attractive of looks. ‘Just the usual lot, really.’

Sam raises one eyebrow. ‘The usual lot. Which would be?’

‘Dan, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ says Sam. ‘Although he’ll already be there, as your best man.’

‘Oh, of course. Well, there’s Mrs B and Wendy – plus Andy. Assuming she can find someone to mind the Admiral Jim.’

‘They’re not shutting it in your honour?’ Sam smiles. ‘What about Natasha?’

‘She doesn’t know the first thing about running a pub . . . Ah. You mean the wedding. Well, put her down as a provisional, but I better check that with Dan first.’ Dan and Natasha had a bit of a thing a couple of years ago. And since she’s threatened to cut off his ‘thing’ if she sees him again, I better tread carefully.

‘Good point. And speaking of which, is he bringing anyone?’

‘Doubtful. Taking a girl to a wedding would be a little bit too much commitment as far as Dan’s concerned.’

Sam sighs. ‘I hope he’s not going to spend the whole time trying to get off with the bridesmaids. Should I have ugly ones just in case?’

‘Might be a plan. Or we can just invite Polly. That should keep him on his best behaviour.’

‘Isn’t that a bit cruel?’

I’m just about to say that I’m joking, of course, when I stop myself. It’s a brilliant idea. Firstly because it’s bound to keep him in line for the day, and secondly, because if my suspicions are correct, there’s still an awful lot of unfinished business there.

‘Actually, no. I see it more as doing him a favour. Then at least he can put it to bed once and for all. Sorry. Bad metaphor. But he just hasn’t been right since he tried to get back together with her last year, and maybe this will be a chance to kill or cure.’

‘Fine.’ Sam adds Polly’s name to the rather short list. ‘And how about Jane?’

‘Jane? My J . . . I mean, my
ex
Jane?’

‘Is there any other?’

For a moment, I wonder whether she knows about our coffee the other day, or even that I’ve already invited her. Maybe Jane just ‘happened’ to bump into Sam, and has mentioned the fact herself. But surely Sam would have told me. Unless she’s testing me.

I know this is one of those questions, where there’s an awful lot riding on my choice of answer. I also know that I need to give it some thought, as although my first answer might well be the correct answer, I’ve got no real way of knowing what the correct answer is until I see Sam’s reaction to whatever it is I say.

I suppose an option would be to try and work out what the right answer is and then say the opposite thing, because experience has shown me that that more often than not that
is
the correct thing to say. But what on earth is the right answer to ‘Do you want to invite your ex-girlfriend to your wedding?’ ‘Yes’ might well mean that of course, why not, you and I have no worries, I’m over her, and we’re friends now and that’s it – or it might mean that I still need her in my life, and I deem her important enough to want her at what’s supposed to my current girlfriend’s big day. ‘No’, of course, would seem the safer option, although that could be deemed as meaning that I still have feelings for her, and therefore her being at the wedding might give me second thoughts, which I don’t want to risk. Trouble is, I don’t know if it’s actually a trick question, and if so, have I blown it already by not saying ‘no’ – or ‘yes’ – immediately?

‘Edward?’

‘What?’

‘Do you want to invite Jane to the wedding?’

‘Er . . .’

Sam’s staring at me curiously, her pen poised above her notebook, and I know she’s going to need an answer. My dilemma is that I can see a problem with both the ‘yes’ or ‘no’ options, and as I can’t phone a friend, I’m going to have to decide myself. And pretty soon, too.

‘Well?’

Quick. Aargh!
. . .
No, hang on, I’ve got it.

‘What do you think?’

Sam frowns. ‘How would I know? She’s not my ex-girlfriend, is she?’

‘True. But suppose you did have an ex-girlfriend. Like Jane. Not that you’d have an ex-
girl
friend. Or one like Ja— Anyway, what would you do?’

‘Ed, it doesn’t really matter what I’d do, does it? I’m hardly going to veto your choice of wedding guests. So if you think it’s important that your ex is at your wedding just say so. It’s okay, honestly.’

I have to admire her dexterity. Straight back at me. And while she doesn’t look like she’s shaping up for an argument, experience tells me that where women are concerned there’s often no warning of the change from normal to nuclear. Well, two can play at that game.

‘Why do you think I’d want Jane at my, sorry,
our
, wedding?’

Sam sighs. ‘I don’t know, Edward. Maybe because you’re a nice guy. Maybe because the two of you can still be friends. Or maybe even because you want her to see once and for all that you’ve moved on.’

Ah. Those are good things, in that they reflect me in a positive light, but they don’t quite get me off the hook. It could of course be that
Sam
wants Jane at the wedding for exactly that reason – to show her I’m finally off the market – but she can’t of course invite her herself. And then it hits me. A moment of inspiration. An answer that can’t possibly be shot down. Hopefully.

‘Sam, to be honest, there’s only one other person I want at this wedding, and that’s you. So if you feel that adding Jane to the guest list is a good thing to do, whatever the reason, then go ahead. But quite frankly, I’d much rather concentrate on more important things. Like how big the cake you’re ordering is going to be.’

Sam looks at me for a second, and then breaks into a smile. ‘Sorry, Ed. I just wanted you to know it would have been okay.’

‘Would it? Really?’


Do
you want Jane there?’

And now – I realize –
is
the time to be truthful. Though perhaps not about the fact that I’ve already invited her. ‘Honestly? No.’

Sam smiles again. ‘Then of course it would have been.’

‘Great,’ I say, already dreading how on earth I’m going to dis-invite her. ‘That’s settled, then.’

Because knowing Jane, I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it won’t be easy.

Sunday, 12 April

 

8.11 p.m.

Sam spends most of the day with Madeleine, leaving me to write out the invitations for the people we want at the town hall, though of course I then have to drive round and hand deliver them, given the fact that we’ve only got two weeks to go.

‘Small and intimate’, is how she’s describing the ceremony, and while I’ve got no choice but to let her do it her way, at least we can have a bit of a bigger bash with the reception. Fortunately, the ballroom at the Grand Hotel is free – although sadly not
free
– on the day, so I’ve booked it, but when I meet Dan in the Admiral Jim to discuss the entertainment, and – once he’s stopped sniggering at the word ‘ballroom’ – tell him what I’m thinking of doing, he makes a face as if he’s trodden in something nasty.

‘You’re sure you want some Scottish country dancing?’ he says, enunciating the last three words very carefully. ‘I mean, you’re going to be the centre of attention, and I’ve seen you dance . . .’

‘Well, what’s the alternative? Some bloke called Terry who brings his own stack of multi-coloured flashing lights and tries to get us all to do the actions to YMCA? No thanks. Besides, it’ll be fun.’

‘Yeah, right – a room full of sweaty people all not knowing whether to stick it in or pull it out at the same time.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘Come to think of it, that reminds me of this party I went to once . . .’

‘Dan, please.’

‘Sorry. But can’t you think of something a bit more, well, modern?’

‘Like what?’

‘I dunno. What do people normally do at these things?’

I shrug. ‘Get drunk and dance, I think.’

‘So hire a proper band.’

‘Who?’

‘Ed, anyone’s got to be better than a bunch of men in tartan skirts trying to get everyone to do the how’s-your-father, or whatever those dances are called.’

I look at him disdainfully. ‘Can’t you pull a few strings and get some of your celebrity mates to do it?’

‘Yeah. Sure. I’ll just call Take That up and see if they’re free.’

‘You know Take That?’

‘It’s perhaps more accurate to say that they know me.’

‘Well that’s fantastic. Although . . .’

‘What?’

‘I don’t think Sam likes them.’

‘Seeing as I very much doubt they’d be interested in playing at the likes of your wedding that’s just as well.’

I decide to ignore Dan’s ‘likes of your’ insult. ‘Well, who else can we get?’

‘Leave it to me,’ says Dan, confidently. ‘I’ll sort something out.’

‘Er . . .’

‘What?’

‘Dan, the only time I’ll ever leave anything to you again will be in my will. Which I’m worried you’ll be reading sooner rather than later if I let you organize the music.’

‘That’s not very nice.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s just that the last time I let you sort something out, I nearly ended up in hospital.’

Dan looks a little offended. ‘You’re the one who wanted to dye your hair blond for that fancy dress party.’

‘Dye it, Dan. Not bleach it. And certainly not with Domestos.’

‘Yes, well, the proper stuff was expensive. And besides, this is your wedding. I’m hardly going to do something like that again, am I?’

‘You’d better not,’ I say, pointing my beer bottle at him. ‘Understand something, Dan. This is the most important day of my life – and Sam’s, hopefully. So I don’t want anything to muck it up. And that includes you and your shenanigans.’

Dan holds his palms up innocently. ‘Ed, when have I ever let you down?’

I reach into my pocket, and pretend to take out a piece of paper. ‘Do you want a list? I’ve got places and dates . . .’

He grins. ‘Fair enough. But seriously, I should be able to sort something out for the reception. Let’s face it, I’ve got more friends in high places than a stag night on Mount Everest. And speaking of which . . .’

‘Ah, yes. I’m glad you brought that up. Before you go any further, I need to talk to you about something.’

BOOK: The Accidental Proposal
8.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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