The Bridesmaid Pact (10 page)

Doris

There’s nothing like a funeral to concentrate the mind when you’re feeling gloomy about your future. I sat in the church throughout most of Caz’s mum’s funeral in a state of abject terror, imagining how it would be for Daz, for my mum, for Woody, if I weren’t around any more.

It also brought back memories of Dad’s funeral. I hadn’t really known Caz’s mum, and hadn’t liked what I had seen of her. She’d always been rude and aggressive the few times we’d met. Plus, I had some small idea of how miserable Caz’s life had been, just from the way she seemed so starved of affection and lapped up the love in my house. The love I took so much for granted.

So the sight of the coffin had me in a puddle, and the service itself left me feeling incredibly sad. By the time Caz had let rip about the misery of her childhood, I was a blubbering mess. Daz squeezed my hand tightly, instinctively understanding how I felt. Beside me, I also was aware of Sarah sobbing quietly, and I noticed Beth wipe a tear away; it was as if we’d all had a reminder of how hard Caz’s life had been and of how much she needed us.

After it was all over, the girls and I went back to the
wake, which was held in the church hall where we’d been to so many chaperoned discos when we were younger, and I managed to persuade Sarah that Steve could cope with the boys for a while longer so we could all go for a drink. Caz was the only one of us who’d moved away from North London, and Sarah and I both still lived in Northfields itself. None of us had too far to go home.

We got to the pub first – the Green Man, much favoured haunt of our teens, where we’d sneak in and see if we could get served. I’d never got away with it, but Caz with all her chutzpah usually managed to wangle a half, which we’d nurse all evening, sharing secretive sips and thinking ourselves daring and grown up. I felt a pang of nostalgia for our innocence.

‘There you are,’ I said, as Caz made her way into the pub garden – it was a warm evening for early May, so we thought we’d sit outside – followed by a gorgeous-looking bloke, whom I’d clocked her with at the wake. Not that I have eyes for anyone other than Darren you understand, I’m a strictly One Man Woman, but still, he was stunning. Dark hair, dark eyes, strong torso. Caz had certainly kept him quiet.

‘Sorry, got pounced on by my ageing aunt,’ said Caz. She looked a little shy, which was very unusual.

‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’ I said.

‘Oh, yes, sorry.’ Caz looked flustered. ‘This is my friend, Charlie. We work together sometimes.’

Charlie
. Could this really be Charlie?
The
Charlie whom Caz had married in a drunken spree in Las Vegas all those years ago? I could feel my eyebrows rise, and looking at the others I saw they were equally gobsmacked.

Caz shot me a warning look as if to say don’t you dare
say
anything
– which I took to mean that it
was
the same Charlie. I’m well known for my ability to put my foot in it, so I kept schtumm.

‘Charlie, how lovely to meet you, I’m Sarah.’ Sarah stood up first and shook his hand. Wonders will never cease. Maybe she was beginning to come around to some kind of rapprochement with Caz. Beth and I introduced ourselves and we all sat down for a good old gossip. We kept things light, deliberately – Caz looked in no mood for confidences – laughing at the WI contingent, gently mocking Father Miserecordie’s booming voice, generally prattling about the way we used to be back when we were all friends.

‘I’d better be off.’ Charlie pushed his empty pint glass away, and got to his feet. ‘Will you be OK?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Caz. ‘You know me, tough as old boots.’

‘Hmm,’ said Charlie. ‘Nice to meet you all, ladies. See you again I hope.’

‘Is that
the
Charlie?’ I hissed, as soon as he’d gone. ‘Blimey, he’s a bit of all right. Why ever did you divorce him?’

‘Oh, that,’ said Caz. ‘We very young, very stupid and very drunk. Charlie’s a mate that’s all.’

‘So, you don’t fancy trying again?’ said Sarah.

‘No,’ said Caz. ‘Besides, he’s got a girlfriend.’

There was an awkward pause, which Beth and I both leapt in to fill, before Caz stopped us, and said, ‘I just want to thank you guys for coming. It really meant a lot to me. You didn’t have to.’

‘I think we did,’ I said. I leant over and touched her arm. ‘One four all, all four one, remember?’

Caz blinked back tears. ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever been much good at being for anybody,’ she said.

‘Maybe that’s because you never had anyone looking out
for you,’ said Sarah, somewhat unexpectedly. ‘We’re all so lucky. Our families supported us. I knew you’d had a tough time growing up, but until today I hadn’t appreciated how tough. I had no idea. None of us did. I’m sorry if I wasn’t more understanding.’

Caz looked as if she was going to burst into tears, so I said hurriedly, ‘Did you like our costumes?’

‘The Four Marys – or three of them anyway,’ Caz grinned. ‘I might have known you’d think of that.’

‘Actually, it wasn’t my idea,’ I said, ‘it was Beth’s.’

Caz turned to Beth, who as usual was sitting quietly in the corner. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘I nearly howled with laughter when I saw you all.’

‘I thought it might cheer you up,’ said Beth.

‘It did,’ said Caz. ‘Thanks again, you guys. I’m not sure I deserve it, but I really do appreciate you being here. Anyway, enough of my misery, what about the rest of you? How are the wedding plans, Dorrie?’

‘Don’t,’ I said, pulling a face. ‘I’ve got Darren’s mum on my back, morning noon and night to ask why I haven’t asked Great Auntie Joan that Darren hasn’t seen for about a hundred years, while my mum’s not with it half the time and acts as if she couldn’t care less.’

And me, wondering if it’s all going to be worth it, whether the day I’ve been waiting for my whole life, would turn out to be a day I’d never forget for all the wrong reasons.

‘I’ve got some news,’ Beth popped up shyly. ‘Well, I hope I have.’

I looked at her and then twigged. She wasn’t drinking. In fact, she hadn’t had a drink when we’d been out for ages.

‘You’re not—?’

‘Pregnant?’ said Beth. ‘Not yet, but hoping to be. We’ve
had IVF. Matt didn’t want anyone to know, but I can’t keep it to myself any longer.’

‘Oh Beth, that’s fantastic,’ I said. ‘When will you know?’

‘They only implanted the eggs last Friday,’ Beth said. ‘And it takes at least a fortnight. Already it feels like the longest fortnight of my life. I’ve read through all the magazines in the house and I’m bored stiff of daytime TV.’

Sarah frowned. ‘Should you be out?’ she said. ‘I thought you were supposed to try and rest as much as possible when you’d had IVF.’

‘That’s what Matt said,’ admitted Beth. ‘We had a bit of a row about it actually. But I’ve been resting for a week, and I was going bonkers at home. And I couldn’t have missed this. I’ll be fine.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Caz, looking a bit anxious. ‘I’d feel terrible if it didn’t work.’

‘Absolutely sure,’ said Beth. ‘We’ve spent a long time waiting for Foetus, I refuse to accept that anything more will go wrong.’

‘Well, here’s to Foetus,’ I said, and we all raised our glasses and drank to Beth and Matt. I felt an overwhelming sadness. Would I ever get pregnant again? And was Woody even going to remember me as I was now? I looked around at my three friends. Finally I’d got them back together. I thought back to our childhood and the day we’d made the Bridesmaid Pact. I had always imagined my wedding day as being the most perfect day of my life. And now I was dreading it.

A couple of days later, visiting the woman who was going to do the flowers, I felt a bit better. Whatever happened, I was going to do my best to enjoy my wedding day. Sarah had
come with me for moral support, since Mum was still showing hardly any interest. I wished I knew how to reach her, but she was locked away in her private, grief-stricken world.

‘Oh dear, I’m sensing your aura is rather dark and gloomy today. Normally I’d say you were a turquoise, but oh dear, oh dear, you look rather grey today, not at all what I’d expect from a blushing bride.’ The flower lady, a plump blonde, tottering on high heels, with the longest nails I’d ever seen, was full of such psychobabble. I seemed to vaguely remember her mentioning auras when I spoke to her on the phone, but she’d come highly recommended via Darren’s Auntie Lottie’s third granddaughter, Kylie. Kylie was all into New Age Philosophy, I should have known better than to go with her recommendation.

How did she know how I was feeling inside? I was a scientist, I didn’t believe in that kind of crap. My work before having Woody had consisted of looking at cells down microscopes and doing experiments, not feelings, or colours, or auras. She’d only just met me, how could she know anything about me?

‘Actually, I’m feeling quite chirpy today,’ I said, ‘I’m surprised my aura’s not orange.’

‘No, it’s most definitely grey,’ she said, patting my arm firmly. ‘I have a gift.’

I tried not to eyeball Sarah, who was snorting in the corner.

‘We need to cheer you up by showing you some fabulous flowers,’ she
continued.

‘That is why I’m here,’ I said sweetly.

‘So what is it you’re looking for, dear?’ she said. Dear? She must have been around my age. I was being patronised by a blonde Barbie.

‘Well, I’m going for a Disney theme,’ I said, ‘so I’d like my bouquet to have delicate, pink roses, and maybe some gypsophila. I’d like my side of the family to have pink carnations in their buttonholes and Darren’s to have white. Can you show me some samples?’

Aura Lady condescended to talk me through her books. She appeared to only have heard the word ‘Disney’ in what I’d said and produced picture after picture of overblown bouquets stuffed full of massive baby pink or tangerine roses, nothing delicate or subtle at all. Not only that, Aura Lady’s prices were extortionate. With these OTT flowers, and my gloomy grey aura, the wedding was doomed.

I really wanted a wreath in my hair, but wasn’t sure that I could get away with it. I tried one on and Sarah frowned.

‘Oh that’s very you,’ cooed Aura Lady. ‘I think tangerine is definitely your colour.’

Sarah frowned and shook her head. ‘It’s a bit eighties isn’t it?’

‘I suppose,’ I said sighing. ‘I’ve always loved the thought of flowers in my hair, but more kind of woven in. Like something from a Disney movie.’

‘You are a crazy woman, Doris Bradley,’ said Sarah.

‘I know,’ I said, grinning and feeling a bit better. It was good to have Sarah with me. I wished the others could have been there too.

‘Do you remember doing this for your wedding?’ I said.

‘Oh god, yes,’ said Sarah. ‘What a hoot. We kept mucking about and choosing the most awful colours for my bridesmaids’ dresses. We nearly sent Mum bonkers when we told her we wanted to wear black and carry lilies.’

‘Yes, well, Caz was in her
Heathers
phase then, wasn’t she?’ I said.

‘I hadn’t quite realized how far she’d take the bitchiness though,’ said Sarah dryly.

I glanced across at her. Her face was sad and set. It was a look I knew well. She’d confided in me often enough about Steve’s infidelities. I don’t know why she put up with him.

‘Steve been misbehaving again, has he?’

Sarah pulled a face.

‘How did you guess?’

‘Just the way you speak about him,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you just leave him? I’d never put up with that from Darren.’

‘Well Darren wouldn’t cheat on you,’ said Sarah.

‘True,’ I said, ‘he knows I’d kill him.’

Sarah sighed. ‘Maybe I’m just a coward,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it more and more. Even on my wedding day, I knew it was wrong. I knew
we
were wrong. And I was so stupidly in love with him, I let him persuade me that Caz had come on to him. Steve’s been lying to me since the day we were married. What kind of relationship is that?’

‘A bad one,’ I said. ‘You deserve better.’

‘But the boys…’ said Sarah.

‘Are an excuse,’ I said bluntly. ‘How good is it for them to have unhappy parents?’

‘Well we’re not exactly unhappy,’ said Sarah. ‘We rub along OK. We just lead very separate lives.’

I raised my eyebrows.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ said Sarah.

‘Like what?’

‘All disapproving and like you know best,’ she said.

‘That’s because I do,’ I said. ‘And I think it’s time you faced facts. Steve’s not going to change and you shouldn’t have to be this unhappy all your life.’

Sarah sighed and stared into space.

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I just wish it were that easy to walk away, but it isn’t.’

‘How’s the wedding co-ordination going then?’

Darren came in and wrapped his arms around me.

‘What’s wrong?’ I laughed. ‘Shouldn’t you have washed off the zillions of germs you picked up from the tube before hugging me?’

‘I washed my hands in the downstairs loo when I came in,’ he said solemnly.

He went to kiss Woody, who was sitting in his highchair banging a wooden spoon on the top of his head.

‘Honestly, Darren,’ I said. ‘Did your mother never tell you a little bit of dirt ain’t never hurt no one?’

‘My mother didn’t study microbiology. Do you know how many particles there are in the average sneeze?’

‘Enough,’ I said. This was a well-worn theme with Darren, whose obsession with cleanliness at times reached Howard Hughes proportions. ‘I think I’d rather talk about the wedding.’

‘How was it today?’

I groaned. ‘How wasn’t it? Your mum is still banging on about inviting your Auntie Joan, but I just can’t see how we’re going to squeeze her in without losing someone else we’ll offend equally.’

‘I’ll talk to her,’ promised Darren. ‘How was the flower lady?’

‘Nuts,’ I said. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how Auntie Lottie can have thought Kylie’s flowers were so wonderful, I’ve never seen anything so tasteless in my life.’ Darren raised a sardonic brow as I said this. ‘Even by my standards they
were gaudy,’ I added. ‘As well as being waaaay out of our price range.’

‘Kylie did get married in not much more than a lacy bra and knickers though,’ said Darren.