The Debt & the Doormat (44 page)

I avoid looking at Cheryl.  Whoops, I didn’t realise I’d upset her with this bit.

‘Anyway,’ I turn to Lilly.  ‘Lilly, I’m so sorry for everything that I did to hurt you.  I honestly didn’t mean it.  So I thought I’d re-jog your memory of the past five years and if you still don't want to be my friend then fine.’

A photo of us doing shots at the first year’s Christmas do appears on screen.  A photo of Lilly holding up a broken heel and me crying hysterically next to it.  A photo of us at Cheryl’s hen night, dressed in pink tutu’s, singing Grease on karaoke.  Lilly and I on the floor after fighting over Cheryl’s wedding bouquet.  A photo of us drinking a fish bowl at a posh bank do Lilly got us into.  Lilly dancing on the table at that do while I’m getting chucked out by the manager.  Me asleep on the pavement and Lilly dragging me home with a traffic cone on her head.  Us at a fancy dress party as Thelma and Louise.  Me getting sick on her carpet.  Her chucking a drink over a guy’s head because he dared say he didn’t like my dress.   

I watch Lilly throughout all of the images, as everyone around her laughs.  I don't know if I imagine it, but I swear she looks slightly touched underneath all of that stubborn aggression on the outside.

The last photo flashes up.  It's us squeezing each other in a tight hug, our eyes shut with the force.  The projector turns off and people turn back to me. 

I stare at Lilly and take another deep breath.  I slowly get down onto my knees.

‘I knew you’d make me beg.’

Everyone laughs and looks expectantly at Lilly, who still hasn’t raised a smile.  Is she seriously going to leave me hanging here?

‘You’re a real stupid bitch, you know that?’ Lilly says, loud enough for everyone to hear.

I gulp, not sure if this is good.  ‘Um...yes?’

‘Well, as long as you know,’ she says, breaking into a massive smile.  She runs up to me and hugs me tightly, so tightly that I think I might burst.  Everyone around us applauds and honestly, it's just like a movie.  I got my friend back.

‘You OK, Pops?’ Lilly asks giving me a glass of wine.

‘Yeah, just a bit emotional, you know,’ I say wiping away a tear. 

I really am going to miss everyone here.  Not Victor or the actual job part; but definitely the people.  Even though I’ve made up with Lilly I wonder if I’ll see her as much.  It's going to be hard with us both at different jobs.   

‘I’m so sorry Lilly.  I really am.’

‘Pops, let’s not talk about it again, OK?  Anyway, I haven’t told you my great news.’

‘What?’

‘Me and Cheryl are going into business together,’ she smiles.

‘What?  And you think that's a good idea?  You’ve called her a twat in the past.’

‘Pops, it's all decided.  We’re doing a freelance PA service.’

‘Oh my God, that's great.  I’ve got a job working for some director guy.’

‘Really?  Who?’

‘Um....Michael Schorky?’

‘Shut your fucking mouth!  That's fucking amazing!’

‘You know him too?  God, I’m the only one in the dark.’

‘Come on, let’s get shit faced,’ she grins.

This is why she’ll always be in my life.

‘I can't get too bad.  I’ve got the wedding tomorrow.’

‘How do I look?’ Abbey says to her friend who I think is called Tracey.

It's hard to keep up to be honest.  It was mayhem when I arrived here this morning.  The whole suite was filled with relatives, photographers, make-up artists, hair dressers.  I briefly got introduced to them all but I’m still struggling to remember anyone’s names. 

‘Fine.  Does my dress look OK?’ she asks back, fiddling with her hair.

‘Forget about you – how do I look?’  Mum says, pushing them both out of the way of the mirror and examining her cream and brown dress and enormous hat.

That's exactly what she needs – the poor cow looks like she’s going to vomit from nerves.

I walk closer to her and place my hand on her shoulder.

‘You look gorgeous Abbey.  Really stunning,’ I say adjusting her veil and trying not to stare at her giant pale breasts threatening to escape from her corset.  ‘And just remember – at least she didn’t wear white.’

‘Thanks Pops,’ she says, laughing and taking a deep breath.  ‘Your hands are really cold.  Quick – help me.’  She grabs both my hands and puts them up to her forehead.  ‘I’m boiling.’

And she’s not lying.  Her forehead is heating up.

‘I’m just so frigging nervous and with the rain and everything!  I mean, what if it's a sign?’

‘I’ve actually heard that rain on your wedding day is good luck,’ I say, smiling convincingly. 

‘I’m just so nervous!  What if I trip?’ she says, her forehead creasing under my hand.

‘Then you trip.  Who cares?  The main thing is that you and Henry love each other – this really is just a day – the main thing is that you’re going to be together for the rest of your life.’

‘You’re right.’  She starts to relax her shoulders. 

‘Can someone help me with my dress?’ Abbey’s Mum says, wandering round in a fluster.

‘I’ll try.’  I try the side zip, but there’s no way the zips going to go up.  The dress is miles too small.

‘Sorry, but I can't seem to do it.’

‘Why not?  It goes up – I know it does!  I’ve worn this dress before!’  She’s getting more flustered by the minute. 

‘Let me try,’ Abbey says, also seeming to struggle with the zip.

‘Oh my God!  There’s a fly in here!’ I hear my Mum shout from the bathroom.  ‘Quickly!  Someone kill it!’

‘I’ve got my own problems!’ Abbey’s Mum shouts back.  ‘This bloody dress!’

In a second she whips the dress up over her head and continues to struggle with the zip in her underwear.

‘The fly!  It's back!  Quickly!’ I can hear my Mum calling again. 

Everyone tries to ignore her, concentrating on their own problems.

‘I can't hear anyone coming!’ she screams.

I’m going to have to deal with this.  She’s my mental mother.

‘Mum,’ I say, walking into the bathroom.  ‘Stop being a drama queen.  Abbey’s worried enough.’

‘Get the fly swatter!  Aaah!’  She runs around the bathroom at a fly which I really can't see.

‘I can't see any fly,’ I say looking round the entire bathroom.

Tracey joins me in the bathroom.

‘Everything OK?’ she asks, looking at Mum as if she’s a huge liability. 

‘No!  There’s a fly in here.  He’s hiding!  I won't be able to rest until I know he’s dead.’  She seems genuinely terrified.

‘Come out fly,’ Tracey sings ‘let’s call him Harry.  Come out Harry,’ she giggles, clearly half cut from the champagne being passed round.

‘That's not helping,’ Mum says disapprovingly.

‘Well, I’m sure he’s gone,’ I say, all too aware of the time.

‘No!  He’s like a little clever person – he’s waiting!’

‘It's just a fucking fly!’ I scream while Tracey backs out of the room.

‘Don't use that language Poppy!  And he was like a little spy.’

‘A fly that's a spy?’ I ask, weary.  It's going to be a long day.

‘Yes!  It was like he had a little camera attached to him!  Plus he’s hidden so well,’ she says, eyeing every corner of the room.

‘Mum, how much have you had to drink?’

*
                            *                            *

Before we know it we’re all at the back of the church.  Mum’s stopped thinking a fly is out to get her and Abbey’s mum is safely in her dress, even if it is threatening to pop at any moment.

The sound of the organ blasts through our ear drums and we follow her down the aisle, the entire packed church staring at us.  I walk as slowly as possible in my dress the colour of poo, trying to ignore the attention and instead focus on the beautiful details.  Candles fill the church, emitting a tender romantic light which reflects of the garlands of roses which scent the church.  It's beautiful.

I find myself tearing up when the priest talks about the bond of love.  They seem to gaze so lovingly into each other’s eyes, as if they were the only two people in the world.  It's actually made me see my brother in a better light.  I know we’ve never gotten on, but when I see him through Abbey’s eyes I see a genuine adoring man.  I wonder if I’ll ever be that happy. 

Is it me or is the priest ogling her breasts? 

‘I breast you in the name of the father, son and the holy spirit.’

Breast you?  Oh my God.  Abbey goes bright red and Henry looks like he might punch the priest in the face.

‘Bless you!  Sorry – bless you,’ he corrects himself.

Awkward giggles fill the church.  Why can't we just have one family occasion without it ending in shambles?

*
                            *                            *

I’m smiling for photos at the back of the church when I see her.  Annabel.  What the hell is going on with those two?  Are they back together?  You wouldn’t know from how normally they’re behaving.  A hand on my waist pulls me out of my daydream.

‘Hey sexy,’ Stuart says into my ear.  ‘You look gorgeous.’

I flinch away from him, his hot breath repulsing me. 

‘Thanks,’ I say trying to ignore him and gaze in the other direction.

‘So, are you ready for our date?’  He takes my hand.

‘It's not a date,’ I say throwing his hand away.  ‘Like I said on the phone – this is just for my family.  There’s no possibility of us getting back together.’

‘OK sweet, whatever you say,’ he says, arrogantly guiding me towards his car.

We drive in silence and I’m glad for the quiet.  All morning I’ve had to deal with the constant chatter coming from Mum, Abbey, her Mum, her sister, her friends.  I think about how close I was to marrying Stuart before he left.  How I’d thought he was going to propose when he said he wanted to talk and instead broke my heart.  Would I be happy with him now if he had proposed and we’d instead got married?

When I look at him now we just seem like totally different people and it shocks me to think I ever thought we were compatible.  And then I think of Ryan.  My feelings for him are so overwhelmingly strong, they make any previous feelings seem ridiculously inadequate. 

Once we’re inside the reception I grab two glasses of champagne of one of the many waiters milling around and down one immediately.

‘Thanks,’ Stuart says, going to take the other glass from me.

‘Sorry – did you think this was for you?’ I laugh cruelly, before starting to drink the other one.

‘Oh, maybe you should slow down a bit, hey?’ he says, looking anxious.

‘I don't think so,’ I snort.  ‘If I have to play happy couple I’m going to have to get very,
very
drunk.’

‘Poppy!’ I hear Aunt Margaret call.

I swivel round and smile at her as she skips over, already looking half cut.

‘Hi Aunt Margaret,’ I say politely while swigging heavily on the champagne.  I can already feel the calming effect of the alcohol.

‘Poppy darling!  How are you?  Oh, Stuart!  How are you Stuart?’ she asks, hugging him tightly.

‘I’m fine thanks Aunt Mags,’ he smiles.

Aunt Mags.  Who does he think he is?  He only met her a few times when we were going out.

‘You two still going strong then?’ she asks joyfully.

‘Oh yes, better than ever,’ he says, wrapping his arm round my waist. 

I want to beat him off with a stick, but instead I plaster on a fake smile and clamp my lips shut.  Say nothing. 

‘Your cousin Sarah is here somewhere with a lovely new man of hers.’  She stands on her tip toes to scan the room.

Great.  As if I didn’t feel shit enough, being here in a dress the colour of dog shit, pretending to be happy with my utter creep of an ex.  Now I have to see my supermodel cousin Sarah and her spindly spider legs.  God, I hope she’s got fat.

‘Well, I’m sure we’ll bump into her – must mingle,’ I say walking away quickly.

I bump right into the happy couple, and Abbey grabs me, plastering a kiss on my cheek, her boob almost falling out in the process.

‘Thank you so much for calming me down earlier,’ she says, smiling from ear to ear.

‘No probs.’

‘Yeah, thanks Poppy.  Abbey told me what you did – with mum and everything and...well, thanks,’ Henry says, smiling awkwardly. 

That's probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.

‘Hey Hen!’ Stuart blasts running over to us.  ‘Can't believe you went through with it,’ he laughs.

‘Someone had to tie me down eventually,’ Henry says, smiling lovingly at Abbey.

They launch into a long boring conversation about Rugby as Abbey waits patiently for them to finish.

I excuse myself and walk over towards another waiter, getting another two glasses.  I just wish they were giving out free bottles of beer – I hate champagne.  But hey, whatever gets me through today.

‘Don't be drinking too much sweetheart – you don't want to get drunk and embarrass your brother on his day,’ Mum says to me, appearing from nowhere.

‘Thanks Mum – I’ll keep that in mind,’ I say knocking it back.

‘Where’s Stuart?’ she asks looking around for him.

‘Off catching up with Henry.’

‘I hope he’s behaving himself,’ my Dad says, clearing disapproving of his presence here.

At least I have one person on my side.   

‘I’ve just seen Aunt Margaret.  She looks well,’ I say, trying to take the attention from me.

‘I bet she does,’ Mum snorts.  ‘If I had a bag load of poison injected into my face I’d look fantastic too, but some of us like to grow old with some dignity.’

‘I just can't wait for this day to be over already.’  I smile sympathetically to my Dad, who I can see is itching to get out of his suit and into his pyjamas. 

I weave through what seems like hundreds of people, trying desperately to lose Stuart, who seems to be searching for me whenever I spot him.  Why can't he just leave me alone!?

‘Ah Poppy, over here,’ Aunt Margaret calls to me.

I begrudgingly walk over to her, through the crowds of pretentious idiots and drunken family.

I see her standing next to Sarah and unfortunately she’s still the spindly spider legged freak I remembered.  Her long blonde hair dangles down towards her bum and her face has the same sucking a wasp expression as ever.  But her boobs seem massive.  Has she had a boob job?

‘Poppy, obviously you remember Sarah and...Where has that new man of yours got off to?’ she says, seeming annoyed.

‘Oh, he’s around here somewhere.  Oh, there he is!’  She begins waving like crazy at someone over my shoulder.

‘Ryan!’

I turn round in what seems like slow motion to face Ryan, my Ryan, walking towards us.  His smiling expression quickly changes to match mine.  A sickening feeling creeps over me and I feel the colour drain from my face as I remember the last few words he spoke to me.   

How can he be here!?  How!?  Does God hate me that much?  Did I murder someone in a previous life!?

‘There you are,’ Aunt Margaret says.  ‘Ryan, this is Poppy.’

I freeze, wanting to evaporate; to be anywhere in the world but here.  I avoid his gaze and look down at the floor, wanting to die.  Hoping he doesn’t punch me immediately in the face.

‘Actually, we already know each other,’ he says, in the same silky voice that I’ve missed so badly.

I feel the same familiar ache begin in my chest, the same longing and depression that I’ve felt for the past few weeks.  This is torture.

‘Oh really?  How do you know each other?’ Sarah asks seeming rattled.

I glance up at him for a second and feel myself flush when I catch his brooding eyes.  Tingles run up my spine.  This is unbearable.

‘It's a bit of a long story actually,’ he says, seeming relaxed.  How can he be so relaxed? 

‘Hi Ryan,’ Stuart says, appearing from nowhere and wrapping his hand possessively round my waist.

Oh my God.  This is my worst nightmare.