‘It’s not that,’ she said, in between wobbles. ‘I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.’
‘About the wedding?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. I passed her a napkin to blow her nose. ‘It’s just, I’ve spent so long being in charge of my life. What if I can’t relinquish that control? I used to go on holiday alone. I used to disappear for weekends without having to inform anyone! I like my own space! I’m scared I’m going to stop being this whole person and just become half of a couple, or worse. That I’ll just be this impossible person to live with and Kyle will fuck off and find someone more wife-like.’
Hazel placed her hand on Lucy’s arm. ‘You’ll find a balance. Don’t forget that Kyle wants to marry you because of these things. I think he’d find it unnerving if you suddenly stopped being this independent woman he fell in love with.’
‘Awife, though,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s just so fucking old-fashioned.’
Hazel laughed. ‘It’s whatever you make it. Stop worrying. I’ve managed it twice without disappearing back to the fifties.’
Lucy steeled herself and raised her glass, motioning for us to do the same. ‘Promise me, ladies, that this won’t change. That regardless of how many husbands or children come along – we will always make time for each other.’
‘Agreed,’ I replied. Hazel looked like she was going to cry now.
Lucy wiped her nose and grinned. ‘And promise you’ll forget that I suggested going for a Chinese on my hen night when we have dancing and shots available to us. One of you better have some lippy and mascara I can use; we’re fucking out of here.’
‘Bill, please!’ Hazel yelled as I downed my wine and called a cab into town. In a little over a week my best mate would be married, but tonight she belonged to us.
Sunday November 5th
Bonfire Night! Despite the fact it was baltic, we all went to Glasgow Green to see the massive firework display they’d put on. I feel like I’m getting the whole parenting thing right when I do stuff like this. It gives me a sense of calm.
When we got there it was packed with bobble hats and gloved hands holding sparklers as far as the eye could see and Molly got one of those overpriced spinning things that lights up and then breaks by the time you get home. Hazel, Kevin and Grace also attended but we decided just to have our own family time. Just me, Oliver, Molly and several thousands of pounds’ worth of dangerous explosives, surrounded by strangers. It was splendid.
Monday November 6th
Oliver’s Movember tash is coming along nicely and when I say nicely, I mean he’s already starting to look like a sex offender and it’s disturbing me. That man can grow facial hair at an alarming rate.
*
After my little outburst on Halloween, I was expecting Frank to haul me into his office to ask why the hell I’d let slip about us to Sarah, but he didn’t say a word. Not even an awkward glance or underhand comment. There’s no way she’s mentioned it to him. She’s obviously scared I’ll tell him about her bitchy phone conversation.
Wednesday November 8th
I found another note in the sex jar this morning and I felt a little pang of guilt, given that the last one was a proposal I’d turned down. I haven’t been near the jar since. Still, Oliver had obviously left it out for me to read so I obliged.
You might want to shower first.
It didn’t take me long to put two and two together. I had bacterial vaginitis a few years back and Oliver commented on the smell while he was going down on me. Now I’m paranoid and prefer to shower before he puts his face anywhere near my foof. Oliver thinks I’m neurotic and I absolutely agree.
I scrunched up the note and threw it in the bin before sending Oliver a quick text.
I will be thinking about this all day now. Nicely played, you complete shit.
*
By the time Oliver put Molly to bed, I was already in the shower shaving my bits and by the time he was finished with me, I was back in the shower again, while he stripped the soaking wet sheets off the bed. God, he’s talented. Maybe the moustache could stay.
Thursday November 9th
Tonight I walked around for three hours in my bridesmaid’s shoes to make sure they were broken in before the big day. Lucy is now regretting not having a rehearsal in case she walks out of time to the music and looks like a prick. So now I’m also worried about this and have been practising slow walking up the hall in high heels and pissing off the neighbours below us.
Friday November 10th
Despite my ninja moves, Sarah Ward-Wilson spotted me in the school car park this morning, pulling up alongside me in her unnecessarily large car. I prepared myself for battle.
‘I’d like to apologise if I came across as being mean-spirited at the Halloween disco,’ she said, turning off her engine. ‘I realise that my sense of humour can be misread at times.’
