The Bridesmaid Pact (14 page)

‘Me, humiliate you?’ I said bitterly. ‘That’s a laugh.’

I got up and walked away from him.

‘And where do you think you’re going at this time of night?’ said Steve.

‘Home,’ I said. ‘If I can still call it that.’

‘Oh, you’re impossible,’ said Steve. ‘I’ve had enough of your jealous fits.’

I stopped walking and stared at him. Even now he was trying to blame me. Even now.

‘It’s all right, Steve,’ I said. ‘Whatever lies you can come up with, I know you’re seeing Kirsty. Our marriage is a sham. It’s time we got a divorce.’

September 1997

The wedding reception was in full flow when I saw her. I had half hoped she was coming, but a bit of me didn’t want to see Caz on my wedding day. Ever since she’d said she didn’t want to be my bridesmaid, I’d been racked with suspicion and guilt. I’d tried to talk to Steve about Caz, but he’d laughed at me and said that Caz was a sad, mad man-eater and he wouldn’t touch her with a bargepole. The weeks leading up to the wedding had been tense and anxious, but now I was here, I had started to unwind and enjoy the big day. After his initial irritation with my late arrival, Steve had seemed genuinely thrilled when I came down the aisle, I heard the catch in his voice as he repeated his vows. Surely he couldn’t have made that up, or the emotion in his voice when he’d said in his speech how proud he was to be my husband? I had to face it, my best friend was a troubled soul and bad news around men. I’d always known that. Just never expected her to shit on
my
doorstep. I had to trust Steve, I had to. Otherwise this day would be a complete farce.

I was busy doing the rounds of Steve’s relations, and he was taking mine, when I saw Caz sneak in. I saw her make
for Beth and Dorrie, both of whom were talking to her in animated fashion.

I stood immobilized for a moment, barely noticing that Steve’s granny was still commenting on how beautiful the flowers were and what a lovely bride I made. I couldn’t breathe. I hadn’t seen Caz since the day of our dress fittings, and had assumed as she didn’t want to be my bridesmaid, she wouldn’t come to the wedding at all. I couldn’t ignore her. It was my wedding day, and she was – had been – my best friend from our first day of primary school.

I started moving towards where Caz and the girls were, but was waylaid by Joe, Steve’s lovely younger brother.

‘The band’s about to start up,’ he said. ‘Come on, nearly time for your first dance as a married woman.’

He dragged Steve away from my Auntie Norma, and then made a huge announcement as we walked onto the dance floor. I felt like a total dummy, as Steve took my hand and held me close, as we smooched to ‘I Will Always Love You’.
The Bodyguard
was the first film we went to see together and inevitably Whitney Houston became the theme tune to our relationship, even if I did find her a bit cheesy.

I felt exposed in the middle of the room. I was aware of Caz, somewhere in the shadows, her eyes boring into my back. I’d become uncomfortably aware in the last month of how intensely jealous she could be. Was she watching me dance with Steve, enviously wishing it could be her? That was Steve’s take on things.

‘Happy?’ said Steve, pulling me close and kissing me on the lips, which elicited a roar of approval from the crowd.

The answer he was waiting for was yes, but Caz’s arrival had put me off guard. I tried to smile, conscious it wasn’t reaching my eyes.

‘Ecstatic,’ I said with an enthusiasm I didn’t feel. I longed for the dance to end, for the feeling of exposure to go away. I didn’t want to be here any more. This couldn’t be right. Not on my wedding day. I shouldn’t be feeling so churned up and nervous. This was meant to be the happiest day of my life.

Eventually the torment was over, and Steve’s dad cut in demanding a dance with his ‘beautiful daughter-in-law’. I have to confess to a little thrill at those words. I had longed to be married to Steve for so long, and now here I was, the new Mrs Johnson. Steve dutifully went off to dance first with my mum, then Beth and Dorrie, but by the time Joe had turned up to take his turn to whisk me round the dance floor, I noticed Steve sneaking off to the bar. Typical. He hated dancing.

‘Having a good time?’ said Joe, as he pulled me firmly around the dance floor. It was different dancing with Joe, he seemed to lead me, so my steps felt fluid, whereas Steve just pushed me about and I felt like an enormous klutz.

‘Yes,’ I said, but my eyes kept darting to the door.

‘Sometimes my brother is a big, dumb prat,’ said Joe as the dance came to an end. ‘If I’d just married you, I wouldn’t leave your side all evening.’ He pecked me softly on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, Mrs Johnson, you look lovely.’

I stood there a bit stunned, as Joe walked away, wondering what on earth he meant.

There was a natural pause as the DJ started to ramp it up a gear to get more people on the dance floor. I stood in a daze, as people all around me came out to party on down. I’d never felt less like partying in my life, so I gave my excuses and made my way to the bar. I was feeling thirsty and wanted to catch up with Steve.

There was no one much in the bar apart from two elderly chaps from Steve’s side of the family. Odd. I frowned; where had he gone? I wandered back down the corridor to the dance floor, feeling a little bit like a ghost at my own funeral. Everyone else seemed to be having such a good time. How come I wasn’t? I couldn’t face either dancing or small talk, so I made my way out to the front of the hotel, to get some fresh air.

It was then that I saw them. Standing, huddled together quietly in the shadows, murmuring urgently to one another. He had her hands in his, she went to stroke his cheek. Oh god, no. Not on our wedding day. How could she? How could
he
?

I stood rooted to the spot. The flowers from my bouquet wilting in the summer heat, along with my dreams. I didn’t know what to do or say, but then Caz pulled away and said something I couldn’t catch in a choking sound of voice.

‘Don’t be like that,’ I heard Steve say, as Caz ran towards the light.

Seeing me there, she stopped in horror, the look of anguish on her face almost comical, if it hadn’t been so bloody tragic.

‘It’s not…this isn’t what you think,’ she said.

‘No?’ A month’s worth of bitterness and suspicion trickled off
my tongue. ‘What is it then? Do you both think I’m completely stupid?
For fuck’s sake. This is my wedding day. Why do you have to spoil
everything?’

Caz didn’t say anything. She didn’t even try to deny it. She just looked awkwardly down at her feet, and mumbled an apology.

‘I should go,’ she said. ‘I was leaving anyway.’

‘Yes, you should,’ I said acidly.

Caz looked at me, and then back at Steve, as if trying to make a decision.

‘It’s not his fault,’ she said eventually. ‘I put him in an awkward position. I’m sorry. I should never have come.’

Throughout this exchange, Steve had said nothing. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.

‘Well?’ I said.

‘Well, what?’ Steve looked at me belligerently. ‘I can’t help it if your friend is a tart who can’t stop throwing herself at me.’

I so wanted to believe that was true. But I’d seen the way he looked at her. I’d seen the way he held her.

‘Why aren’t I enough?’ I said dully. ‘You’re enough for me, why aren’t I enough for you?’

‘Don’t be like that, baby,’ he said, seeing I was crying. ‘Come on, this is our wedding day. Look, maybe I’ve had a bit of a silly infatuation with Caz. But it’s over. Honestly. I was telling her that when you came along. I married you, didn’t I? Can we forget this ever happened? Today’s the first day of the rest of our lives. Let’s forget all about her.’

I stood, uncertain, churned up, feeling I was being taken for a mug, but wanting to believe him. We’d made vows to one another. How could I say my marriage was over before it had even begun? How could I face all those people knowing what a mistake I’d made?

As if sensing my uncertainty, Steve moved towards me, and took my hands in his. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I am so sorry. I’ve always been a terrible flirt, you know that. And things got a bit out of hand with Caz. I should never have gone there, would never have gone there if she hadn’t thrown herself at me.’

‘You didn’t have to respond,’ I said, feeling myself weaken.

‘I didn’t, not really,’ he said. ‘Nothing happened. And I promise you I’ll never do anything to hurt you again. It’s you I love, and I always will.’

He looked so sincere. He seemed so sorry. I loved him so much. I was hurt. I was distrustful, but maybe this was the first hurdle of our marriage. I couldn’t trip over it. I took a deep breath and said, ‘OK, I forgive you, but please Steve, never do that to me again.’

‘I promise, I won’t,’ he said. Then, sweeping me into his arms, he marched me back down the corridor. ‘Now let’s make this the best night of our whole lives.’

I wanted things to be right. I wanted them to be perfect. So I shut my eyes and pretended that they were.

April 2005

I hadn’t wanted a hen night. I hated the idea that you should have a night to mourn the passing of your freedom. I couldn’t wait to be married to Matt. After so many years in the wilderness, watching Sarah and her growing family, and Dorrie being so happy with Darren, it was my turn. Why would I want to do anything other than celebrate that? Plus, I hate being centre of attention, and I dreaded some well-meaning and misguided attempt to make me wear a learner’s plate and force a stripogram on me. My pleas were in vain though.

‘You
have
to have a hen night, and that’s that,’ said Dorrie. ‘We won’t hear otherwise.’

‘Will Sarah be able to cope if Caz is there though?’ I fretted. Sarah and Caz barely saw each other these days. Dorrie and I had still kept in touch with her, and I had put my foot down and told Sarah and Caz they were both going to be my bridesmaids, reasoning that so long as they could manage to be civil for the ceremony and the photographs they needn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day. But a whole evening of them together? With alcohol involved? I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. At least Sarah
was in the early stages of pregnancy and wouldn’t be drinking, but Caz could be unpredictable at the best of times. I hoped she didn’t cause any trouble.

But I couldn’t have a hen night without Caz being there. After all, even though Dorrie and I had been angry with her for the way she’d treated Sarah, Caz had always been a good friend to me when I needed her. She was still the only person who knew my secret. Not even Matt knew about it. I still felt I owed her.

The evening didn’t get off to the best of starts. I was so knackered from weeks of negotiating my way through the minefield of dealing with Mum’s increasing neuroticism of all things wedding related, all I really wanted to do was have an early night and a soak in the bath. I’ve never been much of a party animal, but Dorrie was determined I was going to be one tonight. She’d come round to the house Matt and I had just bought (though to please Mum we weren’t officially living in yet) to pour a few drinks down my neck and get me going, as she put it. Despite my protestations, she insisted that I wore a veil, and had arrived with a bunch of pink balloons saying
Hen’s Night
.

Before long she’d packed me in a taxi and we’d arrived at a restaurant, where a sundry group of my friends (though thankfully none of my relatives) were waiting. Sarah was already there, drinking sparkling water of course, with more balloons at the table, and an L Plate that she insisted on me wearing. Caz turned up late and already the worse for wear.

‘Here, you’ve got to wear this,’ she said, producing a blue garter.

‘No, I don’t,’ I said.

‘Yup, you need something blue, and it can be your
something borrowed as well,’ she insisted, and to my mortification made me put it on.

‘Caz, have you been drinking?’ I said. It wasn’t that I didn’t like a drink myself, but the night was still young, there was plenty of time to get hammered.

‘And what if I have?’ Caz’s tone took on an aggressive belligerence I recognized. Bugger, if she was like this early on in the evening, it didn’t bode well.

‘Caz, it’s my hen night,’ I pleaded. ‘Please be nice.’

She looked crestfallen for a moment. ‘Sorry, Beth, I didn’t mean to.’ She ran her hand through her sleek, short gamine haircut. ‘It’s been a bad week.’

‘Your mum?’ Caz never said much, but I knew she was often called upon to deal with results of her mum’s drunken rampages.

‘Got it in one, but I don’t want to talk about it.’ Caz took a swig of her bottle of Beck’s. ‘Come on, Beth, this is your night, we’re here to have fun.’

I can’t say I didn’t have a laugh that night. The early part of the evening was great. We were all getting on really well, and Caz and Sarah were dutifully being polite to one another for my sake. My friends from work mixed well with my friends from uni and Dorrie cooed and charmed her way round the crowd, making up for my shyness and ensuring everyone was having a good time.

Just as it was time to pay the bill, there was a commotion and in strolled a copper.

‘Oh god, no,’ I groaned. ‘Doris, I’m going to kill you.’

‘It wasn’t me,’ said Doris.

‘It was me,’ said Caz. ‘I thought you could do with lightening up.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ I hissed. But it was too late. The guy was
already going into his routine, and showing off his bronzed and impossibly toned body, rather closer to my face than I would have liked. The rest of the girls went wild, shouting, ‘Get ’em off, get ’em off!’ as he removed each item of clothing. I have never blushed so much in my life, particularly when invited to rub him all over with cream. I was mortified, but felt obliged to go along with it, hating every minute, wanting to kill Caz for putting me through this humiliation.

When it got to his g-string, I politely declined any suggestion that I might like to remove that for him and have some
extra
fun as he put it. And no amount of teasing from the girls would change my mind. Caz looked as if she wouldn’t mind taking over where I left off – by now I realized she was very drunk – but the guy fortunately had other jobs to get to, and to my relief left with his bits still all in the right places, and my dignity intact.

‘Don’t ever do that to me again,’ I said. ‘That was hideous.’

‘Oh come on, Beth, you really need to learn to relax, you know,’ said Caz, slurring her words a little. ‘I reckon that Andy the bastard has a lot to answer for. I hope Matt’s managed to heat you up a bit.’

Andy the bastard. Why was Caz mentioning Andy the bastard at my hen night?

‘Shut up, Caz,’ I said. ‘That’s all in the past.’

‘That’s funny, Andy the bastard nearly had his own little bastard,’ said Caz, as if struck by a sudden revelation. ‘He’s probably got heaps of little bastards by now.’

‘Will you be quiet,’ I hissed. ‘I’m getting married to Matt. I never want to think about Andy again.’

‘Right, who’s for a club?’ Caz suddenly changed tack, and led the charge as we sorted out the bill and started heading for the door.

All I wanted was to go home and curl up with a cup of hot chocolate, but I realized my chances of that happening were about zero. So I allowed myself to be dragged along by the rest of them, as we piled into cabs which took us up the road to nearby Hadley, where apparently there was a new nightclub called Dreams.

‘What was that all about?’ said Sarah, looking tired and a bit wan, her normally sleek fair bob lank and lifeless. Nobody would compare her to Meg Ryan now. The pregnancy was clearly taking its toll.

‘All what?’ I said shortly. I’d deliberately avoided getting in a cab with Caz, who’d gone off with Dorrie and a couple of my livelier uni friends.

‘About Andy’s bastard,’ said Sarah.

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Caz just mouthing off as usual. I don’t know why she had to bring him up tonight of all nights.’

Sarah didn’t look convinced, but the cab was drawing up in front of Dreams and before long we found ourselves in a nightclub with pounding music and flashing lights. I had a headache and wanted to go home.

Caz wouldn’t hear of it though, she had us all up on the dance floor, even me. It was clearly her idea of a great night out, particularly as she’d found a couple of good-looking guys to smooch with. Part of me admired her self-possession and confidence, another part of me was slightly horrified. I could hear Mum’s voice in my head saying, ‘Will you look at her making such a show of herself?’ And I couldn’t help but agree.

Eventually the place started to slow down, and things were getting on the quiet side. Time, I thought with relief, to go home. Everyone was beginning to flop on the comfortable sofas in the corner of the club, away from the dance floor. At least we could hear ourselves think here.

‘We should play
Truth or Dare
,’ said Caz suddenly. ‘Come on, it’s a hen night. We should be having fun.’

Everyone woke up a bit then. I must admit even I started off thinking it might be a laugh. Most of the early questions were quite innocuous,
What was your most embarrassing moment of the week? When was your first kiss?
That kind of thing.

Caz, of course, had to up the ante.

‘This is way too tame,’ she said. ‘I think we should have a few more dares.’

‘OK then,’ said Sarah. ‘I dare you to go and snog the barman.’

Caz marched over bold as brass, walked behind the bar, and to our joint hysteria did just that.

‘See, it’s easy if you know how,’ she said. ‘Right, Beth, I dare you to do the same.’

‘Not on your nellie,’ I said. ‘I’m nearly a married woman.’

‘OK then, let’s have the truth,’ Caz continued. ‘What’s your guiltiest secret?’

‘I don’t have one,’ I said.

‘You must have done
something
bad, once in your life,’ said Dorrie teasingly. ‘Even Goody Two-Shoes Beth must have stolen sweets or something in her childhood? Go on.’

‘Yes, tell, tell,’ the others chanted.

‘I stole sweets when I was six years old. There. Satisfied?’

‘What about with Matt?’ said Caz. ‘Don’t you get up to anything naughty with him?’

‘No,’ I said, turning puce again. God, would this evening’s humiliation never end?

‘What, you’ve never been a little bit naughty?’ Dorrie was teasing I know, but I just wanted her to shut up. ‘Not even with Andy the bastard? He always seemed like a right dirty sod to me.’

‘I reckon Andy the bastard left her frigid,’ said Caz. ‘That’s where the problem lies.’

‘Caz, will you just shut up,’ I said. ‘I do not want to talk about Andy now or ever again.’

‘I’m not surprised after what he put you through,’ said Caz.

‘Caz, just leave it,’ I screamed. I got up and ran to the bathroom, shaking with anger. How could she do this to me? Why did she have to keep on and on?

Dorrie came running after me. ‘I’m sorry, Beth, I was messing about. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘It wasn’t your fault, it was Caz’s,’ I said. ‘She’s a liability.’

‘What did Caz mean?’ said Dorrie. ‘What did he put you through?’

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘He was just a rotten bastard who broke my heart, Caz is pissed and doesn’t know what she’s on about.’

I went back to the bar, where Caz had seemingly forgotten what she’d said and was smooching with one of the guys from earlier. It was quite clear where she was going to end up tonight.

I thought about her behaviour tonight, and on so many other nights like it. She’d never betrayed my secret but tonight she’d come very close. In the morning I was going to ring her and tell her I didn’t want her as my bridesmaid any more. Everything she touched turned to dust, and I wasn’t going to risk her ruining my wedding.