A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do Read online

  ‘It is, but I’m wondering if there’s a reason we’re all getting together,’ Mum mused, raising her eyebrows.

  I took a deep breath. There was no better opening than this. ‘Actually, there is a reason.’

  I heard a sharp intake of breath – presumably from the mothers – as Jared took my hand from across the table. ‘I’ve asked Ruth to marry me.’

  The breaths were released as Mum and Linda squealed, clapping their hands while Dad and Bob, father-in-law-to-be, beamed and shook hands with Jared.

  ‘I suspected as much.’ Mum had a smug look plastered over her face.

  Linda nodded. ‘It was either an engagement or the patter of tiny feet.’

  ‘One thing at a time,’ I joked. Everyone laughed, apart from Jared, who looked a little unwell at the suggestion. Kermit was making a comeback, so I decided to bring the real reason for our get-together back into focus.

  ‘Would you like to see the ring?’

  Of course everybody did – especially the mothers – so I flashed my gorgeous ring, explaining why I’d had to fish it out of my purse.

  ‘It’s stunning, Jared. Did you pick it yourself?’ Mum nearly fell off her chair when his reply was in the affirmative. Dad didn’t have a romantic bone in his body – or any shred of taste. ‘Wow. Well done. Louie, if you ever feel the need to buy me jewellery, come and ask Jared for help. He obviously has the knack.’

  ‘He doesn’t get it from Bob,’ Linda said. Bob and Dad shared an ‘uh oh, they’re ganging up on us’ look. A swift change of subject was needed before all their faults were dumped onto the foldaway table for all to see. Luckily for the pair, Mum unwittingly came to the rescue.

  ‘So, have you thought about dates yet?’

  Phew – Dad and Bob were off the hook, and the rest of the evening passed without too much more husband-bashing. We ate Jared’s lovely meal (I told you he was a keeper) and worked our way through a couple of bottles of wine before our parents dragged themselves away. Mum and Linda had been in their element as we bounced ideas around, but it was getting late.

  ‘Congratulations again. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you.’ Linda pulled her son into a hug, squeezing him a little tighter than was comfortable before repeating the process with me. ‘We’ll all have to get together again soon and discuss the wedding plans more.’

  Jared and I shared a furtive look. How much more was there to discuss? The mothers seemed to have covered everything from an engagement party (Jared and I didn’t think one was necessary) to honeymoon destinations (definitely necessary) and everything in between. We’d both agreed that we wanted a medium-sized wedding; big enough to be an actual event but nothing as extravagant as Trina’s. As long as our family and friends were there to witness the occasion, we would be happy.

  ‘There’s so much to plan,’ Mum said, her beaming smile showing how much she was looking forward to getting stuck in. ‘The first thing you need to do is decide the date.’

  ‘We really don’t want to wait too long, do we?’ I turned to Jared for assurance. ‘Maybe next spring?’

  Mum nodded. ‘That’s a good timescale. It’ll give you just over a year to plan.’

  ‘Will that give us enough time?’ If you’d asked me at the beginning of the evening how long I’d need to plan my wedding, I’d have said a few months would suffice, but now just over a year didn’t seem like a particularly long time after everything Mum and Linda had discussed. The workload involved in organising one little wedding seemed frighteningly immense.

  ‘Oh, plenty.’ Mum gave a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘Now, we’d better get going. Give me a call and we’ll arrange a time that suits everybody.’

  Linda gave my hand a squeeze. ‘This is going to be so much fun!’

  As she and Mum skipped out of the flat with Dad and Bob trailing after them, I wasn’t quite so sure of that any more.

  Six

  Trina

  Trina had woken at least an hour ago, arranging herself prettily on the crisp white pillows, the sheet riding down just enough to give Rory a peek at her pink silk negligee. She’d been hoping to entice her new husband into a little pre-breakfast honeymooning, but Rory lay still beside her, snoring and snuffling as though his slumber needed announcing constantly. Still, it wasn’t as though it was the first time Trina had heard him snore, so she couldn’t be too annoyed. But was it too much to ask that he’d wake up, ravish her (in a lovely, romantic way, obviously) and then arrange a sumptuous breakfast in bed? It would be lunch in bed at this rate, and Trina had so much planned for the day ahead.

  Trina and Rory had spent their first night as a married couple back at Durban Castle, being pampered with champagne and room service until their check-out at noon. Rory had arranged for their bed to be scattered with rose petals, which had been a lovely surprise as he carried her over the threshold of the honeymoon suite. It didn’t matter that it had been Winnie’s idea; men were notoriously unromantic. Trina had changed into a stunning pale blue chiffon nightgown that she had spent hours shopping for before the wedding. The floor-length nightgown was exquisite, with lace detailing at the back and waist, giving just the tiniest hint of the flesh beneath. Trina had felt truly beautiful as she presented herself to her new husband – and Rory had certainly appreciated the effort she had gone to.

  Now, though? Now Rory appreciated his sleep.

  Trina gave Rory a nudge with her foot before feigning sleep once more. Nothing. She tried again, slightly harder this time. Not a murmur. It took a swift kick to Rory’s calf to rouse the man, but he simply batted her foot away and his snoring resumed immediately.

  Trina snatched the sheet away and marched towards the en suite bathroom of their hotel room. After spending a romantic evening at the castle, Trina and Rory had flown to Mexico for their honeymoon. Rory was clearly still shattered from the flight, but perhaps the sound of a running shower would wake him. They would probably have to forgo breakfast in bed now, as Trina had a boat trip scheduled in just over an hour. There would be snorkelling, followed by a picnic on a secluded beach before they returned to the hotel for a couples massage. The honeymoon had been the only part of the wedding Trina felt she had any control over as Winnie wasn’t interested in something she couldn’t show off to her friends, so she had planned it all down to the minute details.

  Trina stepped into the shower. It was huge – able to fit at least four people within its frosted glass walls – and contained an array of luxurious products. Trina lathered and shampooed and conditioned before wrapping herself in a fluffy robe and padding back out to the bedroom. The hotel suite was divine, and managed to be both spacious and cosy, with its plump sofa and chairs facing the fireplace. Not that Trina and Rory needed a fireplace. The sun was already beating down on the terrace beyond the French doors.

  ‘Rory?’ Trina adopted what she hoped was a sensual tone as she moved through to the bedroom. ‘Ah, darling. You’re up.’ Finally. She was beginning to suspect she’d be snorkelling by herself that morning. ‘Wait, don’t move.’ Trina scurried to the bed before Rory could disentangle himself from the sheets, leaping and landing neatly in her husband’s lap.

  ‘Gosh, babe.’ Rory groaned as Trina covered his face in kisses. ‘Can I expect a wake-up call like this every morning?’

  ‘Definitely.’ Trina lay back on the bed, shivering with delight as Rory untied her robe. Or it could have been due to the fact that the air conditioning was cranked up to the max, but Trina wasn’t complaining either way. ‘But we don’t have much time. We’re going snorkelling soon.’

  Rory, who had been busy nuzzling Trina’s neck, paused and propped himself up on his elbow. ‘Snorkelling?’

  ‘I told you about it, remember?’ Trina had booked the trip back in England, way before the wedding. She’d discussed her plans with Rory beforehand and he’d smiled indulgently and said that he was happy to do whatever Trina wanted. ‘And I reminded you on the plane. You said you were looking forward to it.’

&nb
sp; ‘Did I?’ Rory saw his wife’s face fall. She’d put a lot of effort into planning their honeymoon – it was the only thing that hadn’t been meticulously planned by Winnie and Troy. ‘Oh, snorkelling. Of course! Yes, I’m very much looking forward to it.’

  ‘Really?’ Trina’s sparkle was back as she smiled up at her husband.

  ‘Really.’ Discussion over, Rory resumed his nuzzling.

  Trina wrapped her arms around Rory, feeling the taut, toned muscles in his shoulders and back. All that time he spent at the gym was well worth it. ‘You haven’t forgotten our couples massage, have you?’

  Rory propped himself up again. ‘What the hell is a couples massage?’

  So he hadn’t been listening after all.

  Their first full day of honeymoon didn’t quite go according to plan. After a speedy breakfast of croissants and coffee in the restaurant, they’d hurried to the beach, where the boat was waiting for them. They climbed aboard and set off with the instructor. And that’s when it all went wrong.

  ‘But you sail all the time,’ Trina said as she rubbed Rory’s back. His knuckles had turned white as he clung to the side of the boat, his head hanging over the edge.

  ‘I know. I love sailing. Eugh-euff!’ The noise that erupted from Rory as his body convulsed was most non-human. ‘I do not love this.’

  Rory’s seasickness had taken them both by surprise. Rory’s father owned a bloody yacht! He’d grown up wearing a lifejacket as they spent so much time on water. Rory didn’t get seasick. It was a joke. A cruel joke.

  ‘Poor baby.’ Trina circled Rory’s back with a gentle touch. ‘Do you want to go back to the hotel?’

  Rory shook his head. Going back to the hotel would be humiliating. It would be admitting defeat, which was not something a Hamilton-Wraith did lightly. It would take more than a bit of nausea to break Rory.

  ‘No, I’m fine. It’ll pass soon. Eugh-euff!’

  In the end they gave snorkelling a miss and instead headed straight to the secluded beach. Rory felt much better as soon as his feet hit dry sand, and they set up their picnic. The instructor left them to it, promising to return in a couple of hours.

  ‘I’m sorry about the snorkelling.’ Rory took Trina’s hand and gave it a squeeze. He knew he’d let her down. ‘Maybe we can try again later in the week, once I’ve got my bearings.’

  ‘Maybe, but don’t worry about it. Do you fancy a swim?’ Trina was wearing a two-hundred-quid bikini that her sister had insisted she buy for the trip, and she didn’t want to waste it by keeping it covered with a sundress.

  ‘I think I’m recovered enough for that.’ Rory jumped to his feet and peeled off his T-shirt. ‘I’ll race you there!’

  It was hardly a fair race, Trina mused as she watched Rory tear off towards the water. She had yet to remove her dress and couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from her husband’s magnificent body. She couldn’t believe how long it had taken for her to actually notice Rory. She’d seen him around over the years, had even spoken to him on occasion, but she’d never really seen him. Not until that night at the golf club dance. She’d been feeling down, as her date had failed to arrive, but Rory had managed to cheer her up. By the end of the night she was smitten.

  ‘Come on, Trina! The water’s lovely.’

  Shaking herself into action, Trina tore off the sundress and jogged down to the sea to join Rory … and perhaps partake in a little water-based honeymooning.

  The day should have looked up from that point. But it didn’t.

  ‘Oh my God, Rory! Wake up!’

  The pair had fallen asleep on the sand, exhausted after their splash in the water. The sound of the boat arriving to take them back to the resort woke Trina – and alerted her to the fact that her husband had forgotten to reapply sun cream. The front of his body, including his face, was an angry lobster colour, apart from one patch on his chest that was shaped like Trina’s head.

  ‘Mmm, what?’ Rory mumbled before attempting to sit up. The screech he emitted sent a shiver down Trina’s spine. ‘Fuck! Ow! What’s happened to me?’

  ‘You’re burned. You haven’t put any sun cream on since we left the hotel this morning.’

  ‘Why didn’t you remind me? Arggghh!’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d need reminding.’ Rory was an adult, after all. Yes, he still lived at home with his parents – where there were staff on hand to clean up after him and take care of his washing and meals – but that didn’t negate the fact that he was a twenty-seven-year-old man.

  ‘So you just let me burn? Ow! Christ, it hurts.’

  ‘I did not let you burn. I was asleep! I had no idea you hadn’t reapplied it until now.’

  ‘Everything okay here?’ The instructor had strolled up the beach to meet them. He winced when he caught sight of Rory. ‘Ouch. Nasty. That’s going to be sore, mate.’

  ‘It already is!’ Rory stormed away from Trina and the instructor as best as he could with his agonisingly stiff skin, stalking towards the waiting boat. Trina was left to pack up the barely touched picnic with the help of the kind instructor, who lugged the basket back to the boat. Rory was aboard, sulking – painfully – in a corner. He refused to talk to Trina the whole way back to the hotel, and because of his burned-to-a-crisp skin, the couples massage was out of the question.

  Seven

  Ruth

  My pink gym bag slung over my shoulder, I made my way into the local church hall in my leggings and T-shirt, which weren’t all that flattering but were necessary. Once upon a time, I’d attempted to lose weight but it hadn’t worked out too well. I’d hated every minute of it: the diets, the exercise, the crushing disappointment when I stood on the scales. However, there had been one thing I enjoyed while at the gym, and that had been the yoga class. My gym subscription had long lapsed, but I now took a weekly class at the church hall and while the facilities weren’t great (no changing rooms or showers), the instructors were lovely and the class was both invigorating and fun.

  I made my way into the hall, saying hello to the others en route, and set out my pink yoga mat alongside Mary, an eighty-two-year-old great-grandmother who had more energy and flexibility than most of the other participants combined.

  ‘Hi, Mary. Good week?’

  Mary, balancing on one leg to stretch out her thigh, released her leg and tilted her hand back and forth. ‘So-so, I suppose. I increased my jogging time by two minutes but then I found out one of my old school friends died at the weekend.’ She shook her head and switched feet, balancing on her left foot and grasping her right ankle behind her back. ‘There aren’t many of us left. We’re dropping like flies.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mary.’

  Mary released her foot and gave it a little wriggle. ‘You get used to it, dear. But that’s why you have to make the most of life while you can. Grab it by the bollocks, girl.’ Mary chuckled at my shocked face. ‘They say you only regret the things you didn’t do, you know.’

  I did know, though I didn’t entirely agree. I regretted a lot of the things I had done – most notably the ex-boyfriends I’d wasted so much time on in the past.

  ‘That’s why I’ve finally agreed to go on a date with Cecil.’ Mary’s cheeks turned pink beneath her blue veins at her confession. Her widowed neighbour had been sniffing around Mary since her husband passed away four years earlier, but she’d resisted until now.

  ‘Good for you. I hope you have a good time.’ I wanted to share my own news with Mary – with the whole room, actually – but we’d decided to keep our engagement quiet until we’d told those closest to us. Our whole families now knew – Mum and Linda couldn’t have kept it to themselves if they’d been gagged – but we hadn’t officially told our friends yet. ‘Officially’ because of course I’d told my best friend, Erin. I couldn’t have kept it from her for a second longer and was ready to burst, so it was for health reasons that I’d blabbed, really. Plus, I’d sworn her to secrecy, so it didn’t really count. We planned to tell our other friends in
a couple of days, at our usual Thursday night meet-up. My ring would hopefully be back from the jewellers by then and sitting snugly on my finger.

  And after that I would be free to tell that whole world that Jared Williams wanted to marry me!

  ‘Good evening, everyone.’ Nell, one of the instructors, padded into the room wearing a pair of aqua leggings and a white cropped top that showed off her tanned, toned body to perfection. Normally I would instantly dislike somebody who looked as good as Nell, but she was so lovely that she made it near impossible to harbour any ill thoughts towards her.

  ‘Good evening, guys.’ Greg, Nell’s husband and fellow yoga instructor, followed, carrying a CD player and a couple of rolled-up mats tucked under one arm. ‘Are we all ready?’

  Nell and Greg set out their equipment, and soothing tones began to emit from the CD player as they took us through a warm-up before our workout. I hadn’t been sure what to make of the husband and wife team when I first started the yoga class. I didn’t really trust people who were happy all the time, but Nell and Greg were a genuinely nice couple who were bright and cheery, yet calming.

  ‘Okay. Feet together, hands by your side.’ Nell stood on her mat in the position described. ‘We’re going to start with the mountain pose. Remember: beginners should follow Greg, who will modify each move accordingly, while those who have been with us for a while and feel able should follow me. Are we ready?’ Nell took a deep breath and raised her arms above her head. ‘We’re going to bring our arms down to our sides again on the exhale.’ Letting her breath out slowly, Nell lowered her arms, and we all copied. ‘Deep breath in. And exhale.’

  I went through the movements, which were now so familiar that I could switch my mind to other things while my body went through the motions. My mind automatically returned to my wedding, as it had throughout the day. I’d spent the majority of my time at work researching wedding and reception venues, adding to my already extensive list. There were so many options available, from churches to the local registry office, golf clubs to community centres and hotels to pub function rooms. It was bewildering.