Tales From a Hen Weekend (27 page)

‘I’ll look after her – don’t worry,’ says Emily.

‘Look after me? What’s the matter with you all? I’m not ill! I’m not the one with the broken ankle! I’ve just cancelled my wedding! OK?’

They all continue to look at me anxiously as they pick up their bags and get their passports and boarding cards ready.

‘We’ve all had a great time, haven’t we?’ I add, encouragingly. ‘Aren’t you glad I didn’t cancel the hen weekend too?’

A smile or two. A snigger. A murmur of agreement. Helen strides forwards and takes hold of me by the shoulders, giving me a kiss on both cheeks.

‘Well,
I’ll
say it, Katie, if no one else is going to! I’ve had an absolutely super time. Thanks a million for asking me. And I’m
glad
you didn’t tell us about the wedding till today. I think we’ve all told quite enough morbid stories over the weekend without this one to cap the lot, don’t you, girls?’

‘Yes,’ agrees Lisa quickly, struggling to stop looking as distraught as she obviously feels. ‘Yes, it wouldn’t have been half as much fun dressing you up and playing those hen party games if we knew it wasn’t really a hen party.’

I give her a quick kiss.

‘Sorry for letting you down,’ I whisper, ‘about the dress.’

‘I’m hanging it up in the back bedroom,’ she whispers back, ‘in case you change your mind.’

‘Come on, everyone!’ says Helen urgently. ‘That’s the final call for our flight.’

There’s so much more I want to say, but time has run out. They’re in such a hurry, I’m not even sure if I’ve kissed everyone goodbye. I’ve ended up kissing Emily by mistake, and she’s not even going. They’re rushing through to the departure gate now, looking back over their shoulders, waving until they’re out of sight. I can imagine the stunned silence between them all as they’re showing their boarding passes, putting their bags through the X-ray machines, running to the gate and joining the queue to board their plane. And then perhaps the sudden exclamations:
Can you believe it! How did she pull that off? Pretending all weekend… never saying a word… absolutely ridiculous!

Emily and I look at each other in silence for a minute.

‘Come on, you,’ she says calmly, taking hold of my arm. ‘We need to get out of here.’

‘Yes. But where?’

‘I’ll call the hotel. See if we can have a room back for tonight.’

‘Good idea,’ I say, watching her do it.

I feel like I’m never going to be able to make another decision in my life.

I allow myself to be led, like someone rather weak who’s just had a debilitating illness or a bit of a nasty shock, out of the airport and into a taxi. As the driver pulls away I sink back against the seat as if I’m exhausted.

‘It must be a relief,’ says Emily, squeezing my hand, ‘to have it all out in the open.’

‘Yes. I suppose so. I feel like such a cow, though. Upsetting everybody.’

‘You can’t get married just to avoid upsetting everybody, Katie.’

We sit in the hotel lounge and order hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. It feels extremely necessary to have the cream and the marshmallows.

‘Are you hungry?’ asks Emily as we’re sipping our drinks.

We haven’t eaten since lunch.

‘Not really. Probably enough calories in this to keep an entire family fed for a week!’

‘What do you want to do this evening?’

‘Can I be honest? I’d like to snuggle up in front of the TV and watch a film. Would you mind?’

‘Mind? I had my fingers crossed you weren’t going to suggest going clubbing!’

I laugh.

‘No, you can have too much of a good thing, can’t you. I’d like to get started early in the morning anyway.’

We’re giggling as we get into our pyjamas at the ridiculous hour of eight o’clock, switch the TV onto a movie channel and climb under our duvets. We’ve brought a big bar of chocolate with us.

‘It feels like we’re about fourteen and having a sleepover,’ says Emily.

‘Fantastic.’

‘There’s
Dirty Dancing
on this channel in five minutes!’ she adds, her thumb hovering over the remote control.

‘Even more fantastic! I’ve only seen it about fifteen times.’

‘Yeah, I reckon I must have clocked up about twelve myself. My all-time favourite.’

‘Bring it on, then, sister! We can sing along with all the songs.’

I flop back against the pillows and pop a square of chocolate into my mouth.

‘Katie?’ she adds just as the film’s about to begin.

‘Mm?’

‘I think you’re doing the right thing. If that helps. About the wedding – I think it was a good idea to put it off. You can always put it back on again, once you and Matt… once you’ve had time to settle down.’

‘I don’t think we will, though, Em. I don’t want to go through all this stuff again. I think I’ve decided not to bother getting married, ever.’

‘No. I can see where you’re coming from. It’s not worth the hassle, is it? Everyone else getting involved… dresses, flowers, all that crap.’

‘Exactly. Why bother, eh?’ I laugh, breaking off another piece of chocolate. I feel relaxed. Carefree, almost. How long has it been since I felt such a total lack of stress?

‘We’ll stay as we are, then, shall we, love? Unwedded bliss?’

‘Yep. Apart from one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

The film’s just starting and she’s turning up the volume. I don’t think she’s really concentrating but I take a chance anyway.

‘I’ve decided I want a baby.’

‘So you haven’t mentioned this to Matt?’

We’re eating toast and marmalade in the morning. I wouldn’t let Emily talk about it last night. She wanted to. She even tried to turn
Dirty Dancing
off, but I grabbed the remote out of her hand and turned it back on again.

‘I’ll tell you in the morning,’ I said. ‘I’m too tired tonight.’

‘Then you shouldn’t have
mentioned
it!’ she hissed, her eyes wide with the shock – yet another one I’d inflicted on her.

‘I know. Sorry. I was just feeling nice and relaxed and chilled, and it kind of slipped out.’

‘How long have you been thinking about this?’

‘Since yesterday.’

‘So it’s not exactly a rational decision?’

I looked back at her calmly. ‘Yes, it is. Now, can we watch the film?’

As it happened, we both fell asleep before the end of it. This morning she started firing questions at me again almost as soon as she opened her eyes. At first, she said, she thought she’d dreamt it.

‘I was hoping I had, actually,’ she says grimly now. ‘Have you gone stark raving mad since we’ve been over here?’

‘You mean have the leprechauns got to me?’ I giggle, spreading marmalade thickly over my second slice of toast. My appetite seems to have come back with a vengeance. I feel great. It’s amazing what getting rid of a whole load of pretence will do for you.

‘Look. I don’t want to be a wet blanket or anything, but don’t you think you and Matt have got a few things to talk about? I mean, you’ve literally just cancelled your wedding, and you’re telling me now that you’ve made a unilateral decision to get pregnant?’

‘I can’t do it unilaterally, Em. I will actually need some help from him.’

‘Yes, but…!’ she sighs with frustration. ‘He doesn’t even know you’re
thinking
about this! Does he
want
to start a family?’

‘I’ve absolutely no idea. Strange, isn’t it? I thought we knew each other inside out, but it’s only recently occurred to me that we’ve never even discussed the subject.’

‘You must have done! For God’s sake! Everybody talks to their partner about whether they want kids or not!’

‘Have
you
?’ I ask her with genuine interest. ‘Do you and Sean talk about it?’

‘Yes, we do, from time to time. We’ve agreed that we do want to have children, but not for a while yet. Not until after we’ve…’ She tails off and looks up at me warily.

‘After you’ve got married, you were going to say, weren’t you. But last night we both agreed we wouldn’t bother.’

‘Well. You know. Perhaps
one
day we might… maybe after a lot longer… maybe not till we decide to start a family. Things change. Circumstances …’

‘Of course you’ll get married,’ I tell her briskly. ‘Of course you will, and of course you’ll have kids. Don’t look so worried. I won’t hold it against you.’

‘But – Katie! Not yet! Not
yet
is what I’m saying. You and Matt need a bit of time, and space, to get over this whole wedding thing. And you’ve had a lot of emotional upheavals this weekend – what with your mum, and your sister, and then all this stuff about Helen and Greg.’

‘That’s got nothing to do with me wanting a baby, has it?’

‘Well, I don’t know. I don’t know
where
this is coming from. I can’t help thinking it’s some sort of reaction.’

‘What: I’ve had a bit of a crappy time so I think I’ll go home and get pregnant? No, Em, I’m not quite as neurotic as that. I actually think I’ve wanted this for a long time, without even realising it.’

‘You’ve lost me now. Sorry. I don’t do psychology. My subconscious mind is uncharted territory and that’s the way I like it.’

I finish my toast, wipe my mouth on my serviette and drain my coffee cup. Emily’s watching me as if I’m a dangerous breed of dog that might leap up and take a bite out of her arm at any moment.

‘OK. Look. My mum and my sister weren’t the only ones who poured out family secrets to me this weekend. I had a talk with Joyce as well. She’d never told me before why she hasn’t got any kids. Well, it’s not through choice. They’ve never been able to have any. It just made me think – OK?’

‘Yes, but… fair enough, OK, I feel sorry for Joyce – I feel sorry for anyone in that situation. But that doesn’t mean you have to immediately try for a baby yourself, does it? What are you going to do – give it to her?’

‘Don’t be silly, Emily. It just made me realise that if I
do
want a baby, I need to get on with it. Not leave it too late.’

‘You’re thirty-one, not forty-five!’

‘Even so. It can take years.’

‘In some cases, yes. In others, it can take five bloody minutes!’

‘Five minutes?’ I retort, grinning.

‘Well, if you’re lucky,’ she concedes, grinning back. ‘Or maybe five seconds!’

We’re laughing together as we get up from the table and go back to our room to get our bags.

But even while I’m laughing, I’m thinking: yes. I hope it happens quickly. Once I’ve made my mind up to something, you see, I don’t like messing around waiting. I want to get on with it.

According to the very helpful young guy at our reception desk, there’s a car hire place just along the road from the hotel. How convenient is that. It doesn’t take us long to settle the bill (again) and lug our bags down the street to the place he recommended.

‘We need a car for two days,’ I tell the lady at the counter, warmly. She looks nice. ‘Just something small. Oh, maybe not too small. It has to have a nice big back seat for my friend to put her leg up on.’

She looks back at me, unsmiling. Maybe not so nice. Maybe a bit suspicious of English girls with friends whose legs need to go up on the seat.

‘She’s broken her ankle,’ I feel obliged to explain. ‘But it’s OK. She won’t have muddy shoes on the seat, or anything.’

‘So it’s just for two days?’ she says, ignoring this.

‘That’s right. We’re taking her home to County Cork, you see, and then coming back to Dublin tomorrow to fly home to London. Bit of a bummer, isn’t it, breaking your ankle when you’re away for the weekend.’

‘And will you be the only nominated driver?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. It’s cheaper that way, isn’t it, and it’s not as if I’ll be having a drink, at all. Given it up, you know, after what happened…’

‘I could drive, if you like,’ offers Emily, looking anxious. ‘I don’t mind. You don’t have to.’

‘No, no, that’s fine. I’m happy to do it.’

‘But you could have a drink. Tonight, with Jude. A farewell drink. You might feel the need.’

‘The need, Em?’ I chuckle. ‘What do you mean,
the need
? I said, I’ve given up. More or less. Although poor old Jude’s been through so much, she might like a little drink tonight, I suppose.’

‘Honestly,’ says Emily, seeing me hesitate. ‘Let me drive, Katie. Please.’

‘Well, maybe one of you would like to complete this form when you make up your minds?’ says our friendly car hire lady, with a sour expression. ‘Name and address here, please, date of birth, mobile phone number if you have one, and…’

‘Sure. Yes, of course, no problem.’ Emily drops her bag and picks up the pen. ‘I’ll do it, Kate, and you can navigate. Jude can’t, from the back seat. She’ll get a crick in her neck.’

‘OK, then. If you’re sure.’

She fills in and signs the form and passes it back across the counter.

‘OK, and I need to see your driving licence, please.’

‘Driving licence.’ Emily looks blank for a moment, then opens her handbag, rummages around inside it without looking very confident, and then snaps the bag shut again and says, quietly, ‘Bugger. Sorry, Kate. I didn’t bring it with me. You’re going to have to drive after all.’

I’m thinking quickly to myself. Thinking about the spring-clean of my handbag I performed before we came away. The English store cards and supermarket loyalty cards I left in a neat little pile in the drawer of my bedside table because I didn’t want to be bringing anything unnecessary over here. I can see them now, in my mind’s eye. And lying tidily beside the neat little pile is my UK driving licence. Well, I didn’t think I’d be using it, did I?

‘Bugger,’ I echo. ‘I left mine at home too.’

We both stare at the lady behind the counter, who stares straight back at us. I don’t somehow think she’s going to offer to drive.

‘Jude?’ I mutter tentatively to Emily. ‘She might have her Irish licence with her?’

‘Your friend with the broken ankle?’ interjects our car hire friend in a very sarcastic tone. ‘I don’t
think
so, do you?’