Chapter 3
3
Puffy eyes, knotted hair, a tea stain right down my white vest – why would any man in his right mind leave me?
I look rough, despite getting my eight hours last night. Then again, it was eight hours of crying, rather than sleeping, so it all checks out.
When I got home last night, I did what any self-respecting woman does after a break-up (and no dinner), I cried my eyes out while I raided my kitchen, eating almost everything I could get my hands on. Then I put on a movie, but not a romcom, like you’re supposed to, or even something sad. I watched I Know What You Did Last Summer while I shovelled crisps into my mouth and laughed with glee from one murder to the next.
This morning, I feel like I’m hungover. Perhaps I am, just a bit, from the engagement drinks, but I think it’s mostly from crying and eating junk before falling asleep flat on the sofa. It feels like some of the crisps are still inside my neck. Wait, scratch that, it’s just one smashed one, practically glued to my skin, scratching me. Boys, I’m single again, form a queue.
I grab my phone and notice a text from Lou in the ‘Besties’ group chat inviting us all for celebratory brunch in – fuck, in an hour. I need to get ready, asap, but not a regular get ready, the kind that will hide all evidence from last night. I need to sort out my hair, take off last night’s make-up, put on some fresh war paint, and I need to do it all right now.
I think when you’re like me, and you feel like you’re always chasing your tail, and you’re always running late, you actually get getting ready in a hurry down to a fine art. I’m like a machine, flying through the motions on autopilot, throwing on clothes, caking on make-up, blasting my hair with enough dry shampoo that it actually looks like I’m ready in an instant, like a magician in a puff of smoke.
Now I just need to get there and, look, I can work miracles with myself, but I have no control over public transport. Luckily, living in Chapel Allerton, a taxi into town is doable. It drops me at the bottom of Greek Street with about thirty seconds to spare. I’ve done it again.
I spot Lou and the others lingering inside the entrance of the restaurant. Lou notices me and opens the door.
‘Molly!’ she sings, all smiles, greeting me with a hug.
‘Hey, sorry I’m a bit late,’ I reply.
‘You’re not late, we’re all early,’ she reassures me. ‘Come on, let’s go take our seats.’
Being a fiancée looks good on Lou. Seriously, the girl is glowing. She always looks pretty flawless, always in that effortless way, but today she’s taken it to another level. Her light brown hair has been curled into the softest, bounciest waves, and her make-up is almost invisible, to the point where it looks like nothing but natural beauty. She’s wearing a floor-length floral dress with pink and orange detail, and a cropped denim jacket. She looks like she’s ready for a photoshoot, and suddenly the rush-job I was so proud I did on myself doesn’t feel up to scratch.
A waiter greets the four of us and shows us to our table. There’s a seat next to Lou, but Willow practically pushes past me to get there first.
‘We can sit together,’ Nita tells me, hooking her arm with mine.
‘Thanks,’ I reply.
Everyone needs a crazy, wild-card friend, and ours is Nita. Even the way I met her is a funny story because, believe it or not, I met Nita on Matcher. Yes, the dating app. I was swiping my way through man after man, feeling completely underwhelmed, when I happened upon her. At first I thought it was some sort of glitch, that I had been served up a woman by mistake (and, to be honest, after all the underwhelming men I’d met, I actually started to wonder whether, if you manage to run out of men, it just starts showing you women instead) until I saw that in her profile picture she was holding a sign that simply said: stop swiping and read my bio . Curious, I took a look, only to find this inspiring and hilarious message. I don’t remember what it said word for word, but the sentiment of it was: Are you sick of swiping too? Maybe we don’t need to find a man on here to complete us, maybe what we’re missing is a fun bunch of girlies to hang out with. Message me, let’s hang out.
I showed the message to Lou and we decided that you can never have too many girlfriends, so we invited her out with us and the rest is history.
Nita is awesome. She looks so cool without ever looking like she has tried. Take the pair of jeans she’s wearing right now – I know that she tore the knee by scooting underneath a car to retrieve her phone on a night out, but they actually look like she bought them from some designer shop like that. She’s wearing a leather jacket, her long reddish hair pin-straight, and bright red lipstick that I bet she isn’t going to get on her cutlery like I would. She looks like a cool, modern Jessica Rabbit.
Finally, we have Willow. Willow is Lou’s friend from work and she’s fine, I guess, but the two of us just don’t seem to get along. We try to make it work, for Lou, but there’s just something that isn’t quite right between us. We tend to find ourselves on opposite sides of everything – we even look like each other’s exact opposite. Willow is short and petite, with a sharp, dark brown long bob – she has that chiselled, smouldering Megan Fox kind of beauty, making her very much the ‘girl next door’ type. I, on the other hand, am the kind of girl who actually lives next door. I’m tall (but not like a supermodel, just enough to make me stick out like a sore thumb) with green eyes, long blonde hair and a rounded face. I look more… I don’t know, lived in? Like I’ve had a harder life? I know it sounds silly but sometimes it’s hard not to feel like Big Bird, when I’m surrounded by brunette bombshells. I feel like Weird Barbie – but I am nowhere near as flexible.
Our waiter appears to take our orders. First our cocktails, then our food. A pina colada is pretty much a smoothie, right? And I can’t resist the Nutella pancakes – I’d probably order them even if I wasn’t heartbroken but, seeing as though I am, I order the double stack.
‘For brunch?’ Willow squeaks. ‘Surely it’s more of a dessert – when it’s smaller, of course.’
Oh, of course.
I just shrug my shoulders. She can’t shame me into ordering something else, because this is what I want.
‘I’ll have the breakfast salad, please,’ she tells the waiter.
Breakfast. Salad. Honestly, that sounds as vile as it does depressing, but I’m not going to say a word, because I know that grown adults are allowed to eat whatever the hell they want.
I feel Nita nudge me with her knee, under the table, ever so lightly. A silent acknowledgement that she’s on my side.
‘Okay, girls, so,’ Lou begins now that we’re alone. ‘As I’m sure you’ve all guessed, the reason I have gathered you here today is to officially ask you all if you would do me the honour of being my bridesmaids.’
‘Oh, Louise, it would mean the world to me,’ Willow gushes, getting in there first.
‘Absolutely,’ I add – even though I already said so yesterday, but it hardly feels worth mentioning it just to point score.
‘Yeah, count me in,’ Nita says. ‘Just promise me we can veto any ugly dresses.’
Lou laughs.
‘Nita, I know better than to try and tell you what to wear,’ Lou replies. ‘In fact, I might even let you choose for everyone.’
‘Let’s not be so hasty,’ Willow adds.
Nita shoots her a look.
‘Plenty of time to figure it out,’ I say tactfully, trying to move things along.
‘You say that, but I’ve put our names on the waiting list for the venue of my dreams,’ Lou tells us.
‘Oh my God, is it…?’ Willow says excitedly.
‘It is,’ Lou replies in a similar tone.
‘Oh my God, where is it?’ Nita asks, playfully mocking their enthusiasm.
‘La Palacio de la Mar,’ Lou replies.
‘Where?’ I ask, because I’m not even sure what language she’s speaking right now.
‘You’ve never heard of La Palacio de la Mar?’ Willow says in disbelief.
‘No,’ I reply, because why would I?
‘It’s a resort, in Spain,’ Lou tells us.
‘It’s the most exclusive, sought-after wedding venue, favoured by celebrities,’ Willow continues. ‘Lou and I talk about it all the time at work.’
It definitely feels like Willow is point-scoring, like she’s trying to prove to me that she knows Lou better than I do.
‘So, all I’m hearing is Spain, and I’m in,’ Nita says. ‘Imagine the hen do.’
‘Well, we’ll see if I can even get a booking, but I was thinking maybe somewhere local for the hen party.’
‘Hmm, yeah, okay, we’ll see,’ Nita says mischievously.
Of course, Nita is more excited for the hen party than she is the actual wedding. Love her for that.
The waiter places our food down in front of us and, mmm, it smells so good. I pick up my knife, stab it into the heart of my pancake stack, and then take my fork to cut myself a bite. It’s a huge piece, but I can take it.
Lou looks at me with a frown.
‘Oh my God, Molly. What’s wrong?’ she asks.
I just stare at her, my fork hovering in front of my mouth, trying to hide how annoyed I am that she can read my mind.
‘Nothing,’ I insist. ‘I’m just hungry. What are you on about?’
She narrows her eyes at me.
‘Did everything go okay with Dean last night?’ she asks.
‘Of course,’ I reply, widening my eyes to hit home my point, but it’s too much.
‘Molly!’ she practically snaps, her voice firm.
She knows. Obviously she knows.
‘It’s nothing, it’s not worth getting into,’ I insist.
‘It doesn’t seem like nothing,’ she says. ‘Come on, you can tell me, it’s okay.’
I sigh as I place down my fork.
‘Dean broke up with me,’ I blurt.
‘No! What?’ she replies.
‘ He broke up with you ?’ Nita says in disbelief.
‘Dean is single?’ Willow adds.
We all turn to face her. Is she serious?
‘I just mean, yeah, that’s awful,’ she says, trying to turn her remark around.
‘It’s fine,’ I reassure them all. ‘It’s for the best. Really, it is. We both wanted completely different things in life so it was always going to end in tears.’
‘Molly, I’m so sorry,’ Lou says sincerely. I can tell she feels bad that I’m going through this when she is so deliriously happy. That’s why I love her.
‘It still sucks, I know, but it’s onward and upward from here, right?’ I say with a smile.
The only thing to be right now is positive.
‘That’s my girl,’ Nita says, wrapping an arm around me. ‘You know what? We can be single girls together, at the wedding. We can pick up a couple of hot groomsmen. And just think how much fun the hen party will be now – especially if we’re in Spain.’
‘Nita!’ Lou says with a laugh. ‘It’s not going to be abroad.’
‘We’ll see, we’ll see,’ Nita jokes. She turns back to me. ‘I’m proud of you, Mol. It’s all going to be okay.’
I exhale deeply then smile. Yes, this is rubbish, but it’s going to be so much easier to get through with my friends by my side.
Well, my friends and Willow.