I thankfully managed to slow her and calm her down. She plonked herself on the kerbside and put her head on her knees. She was freaking out.
‘Are you having second thoughts about this?’ I asked cagily, sitting down beside her. ‘I hear it’s normal . . . I mean, if you are.’ I rooted around in my handbag looking for anything that might be useful: a brown paper bag to breathe into . . . a sedative . . . some wiser words than the ones I was currently using – anything.
I found a Milkybar. Luckily, Lucy snatched it from my hand and began tearing it open without questioning.
‘I’m not having seconds thoughts,’ she insisted, biting into the chocolate, ‘I just don’t want a fucking dog and pony show. Kyle’s parents are trying to make us invite all three million of his extended family, his sister Gayle is insisting she’ll take over the seating arrangements in case Charles is sat next to Angus or within breathing distance of Marjory, and I don’t even know who the fuck anyone is. Kyle is keeping out of it and quite frankly I’ll be murdering him first if he doesn’t tell them to back off. I never realised he was such a fucking mummy’s boy.’
She finished the Milkybar in two bites (must buy another for Molly) before resting her head on my shoulder. ‘I want to run away,’ she said quietly.
‘So do it.’
She looked up at me, her blue eyes blinking away the little pools of stress tears that had started to form.
‘Go away and get married,’ I continued. ‘Go and do your own thing. Fuck what anyone else wants.’
‘But we’ve paid the deposit on the venue—’
‘And you can still use it for a party when you get back. Go to Gretna, just the two of you. Wear a bright green dress. Get married barefoot, whatever.’
‘And miss out on walking down the aisle looking fabulous in front of everyone?’ She gave me a nudge and grinned. ‘No way.’
I laughed. Lucy will never surrender. ‘I just want you to be happy, mate. I’ll help in any way I can.’
She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket and began to stand up. ‘Fuck it. I’m just going to marry you instead. Forget this place. I’ll look at vintage dresses online. It’ll give me something to do at work.’
I don’t envy Lucy. I can’t imagine Oliver’s family demanding a religious ceremony and his mum taking over everything. My parents would show up with some hash and a bottle of organic wine.
Tuesday June 13th
Last night I dreamt that Oliver told me he’d kissed that woman again and he was leaving Molly and me to be with her. I woke up with wet eyes and a knot in my stomach the size of a fist. Even though it was just a stupid dream and intellectually I know that this won’t happen, my heart hurts. And itwasstupid; he was wearing a cowboy hat, for fuckssake. I think I’m going to sit with this feeling for a while and if it doesn’t dissipate, I’ll bring it up at therapy.
Wednesday June 14th
Check-up at the dentist this morning which ended up costing me 120 quid for two fillings, an x-ray and a clean. I think I’d rather have kept the tooth decay. I then had to terrify my own kid with my slurring face and drink my tea through a straw afterwards.
I dropped Molly at nursery, doing my best to not lopsidedly smile at anyone, but of course Lord Wilson cornered me in the cloakroom and I had to communicate using only half of my face.
‘Oh, you poor thing,’ she said robotically. ‘I’d empathise but my dentist says I have the healthiest teeth he’s ever seen . . . my sugar intake is almost non-existent, you see; Stevia all the way!’
My urge to just stand there and drool on her Nikes was strong. Lately she’s always dressed like she’s either been or is heading to the gym, with a water bottle in her hand and a visible camel toe in her yoga pants. I may be podgy and eat a lot of sugar but at least my fanny doesn’t eat my clothing.
‘Nice seeing you,’ I mumbled insincerely, before ushering Molly into her classroom. I hoped that she’d pay attention to someone else but she fucking followed me, chattering about Wholefoods and her new personal trainer, Marc with a C. Before she could tell me her body fat ratio, I caught the attention of Molly’s teacher and pretended to have a pressing nursery-related question until Lord Wilson left. The fact that she refuses to mention or even acknowledge the whole husband affair fiasco is a little disturbing and now it just feels awkward when we meet. I understand that she’s probably embarrassed but I can’t help feeling like I’ve been used in some way. Like I was useful at the time but now my services are no longer required.
Thursday June 15th
Frank told Lucy off for looking through bridal websites at work today.
‘This is not appropriate use of either work time or resources. I’m sure you can look at wedding dresses on your own time,’ he stated firmly but loudly enough for the whole office to hear from behind his closed door. See? Self-important prick. Thankfully, Lucy was on form as usual.
‘I think you’re being unreasonable.’
‘Well, you’re entitled to your opinion. However, I am the—’
‘Surely my excellent work ethic is valued enough that you’d trust my judgement to ensure my standards won’t slip,’ she continued defiantly. ‘Have a little faith in me.’
‘This isn’t up for discussion, Lucy. I’ve said what—’
‘Frank, did you know that planning a wedding is one of the most stressful times in a woman’s life?’
