Portia MacIntosh - Bad Bridesmaid

Hopefully I’ll be able to avoid having to spend too much time with anyone in particular because so many other people will be there too – people who are not related to me and therefore might actually like me. I haven’t met any of Dan’s relatives, but I know there’s going to be quite a few members of his family there. The rest of the guests are just friends of Belle and Dan, some that I don’t know and some that I wish I didn’t know.

After hours of travelling I can’t help but let out a big yawn. Put it down to a combination of jetlag and tiredness, but I rub my sleepy eyes with my hands, smudging my heavy black eye makeup everywhere.

‘Dammit,’ I can’t help but say to myself.

Grabbing my toilet bag, I head for the train toilets to smarten myself up. It won’t be long before I arrive so I’d better go and apply my war paint.

Chapter 4

Ah, the great British Summer. Despite it being August, the sky is a thick blanket of cloud that is doing nothing to keep me warm. In fact, I am positively freezing. The weather back in Beverly Hills was supposed to be lovely these next few weeks, so a vacation from work to just chill out and enjoy the nice weather would have been welcomed. Instead I am here, in jolly old England, feeling the wrath of the hit-and-miss summer.

As I stand alone on the platform – under strict instruction from my sister, who couldn’t stress enough that I should wait on the platform, lest I wander off and die – I give my outfit the once over. I check that my black and white bandage dress is straight and give it a quick brush-down with my hands. Safe in the knowledge that my hair and makeup look as best they can after a twelve hour flight, a five hour train, and countless hours waiting in between, I stand and wait for my sister.

Right on schedule, Belle and Dan appear out of nowhere and bound towards me like a couple of puppies would if I were holding a tennis ball made of meat.

‘Hello,’ I greet them with all the enthusiasm I can muster. It’s clearly not enough though, because my sister and Dan simultaneously grab me and hug me.

‘Wow, OK,’ I can’t help but blurt out. I’m not used to much affection these days – least of all group hugs.

‘Don’t let Gran see how thin you look,’ my sister warns me when she finally lets me go. ‘She’ll flip.’

I could ask my sister – who is absolutely serious, by the way – how she proposes I hide my thinness from my gran, but I’m worried she might actually have a few suggestions. Whether it involves eating several Cornish pasties on the drive to the house or stuffing a pillow up my dress, I’m not crazy about actively doing anything to hide the body I work hard for.

‘You’re looking good too,’ I tell her. ‘You too, Dan.’

‘Thanks,’ he says, still as excited as a child at Christmas. ‘We’re so glad you could come, we were worried you might not show.’

‘You really think I wouldn’t show up to my own sister’s wedding?’ I gasp.

‘Yes… I mean no… I mean, you’re so busy with work all the time and–’

‘Relax, Dan. I’m messing with you,’ I assure him, but if I could have thought of a reason that wouldn’t see me disowned by my entire family, believe me, I would have used it.

‘Right.’ Dan laughs nervously. ‘Shall we get in the car…’

Dan, being the gent that he is, goes to pick up my suitcase by the handle.

‘You might want to drag it,’ I warn him. ‘It’s–’

Dan screams out in pain as he picks up my deceivingly heavy suitcase.

‘–really heavy,’ I rather pointlessly finish my sentence.

I stare at poor Dan who is doubled up in pain, his face turning purple, his eyes looking like they are about to pop right out of his head and bounce onto the train tracks… but that’s nothing compared to the angry shade of red my sister is turning.

‘Prince, are you OK?’ she asks, fussing around Dan who seems to feel more pain every time she touches him.

‘It’s my back,’ he tells me. ‘I hurt it playing football when I was at school, ended my career before it started. If I overdo it, I put it out. Why is your suitcase so heavy?’

‘Just clothes and shoes and stuff. I tried to warn you,’ I reason.

‘Mia,’ my sister starts, and I just know that this is going to be all my fault, ‘if you have broken my fiancé just in time for my wedding I will never speak to you again.’

My eyes widen in response to the way my sister is overreacting.

‘First of all, he’s a man, not a toy,’ I rant. ‘Second of all, I didn’t break him. He tried to lift my case before I could warn him it was heavy, it’s not like I took a swing at him with a baseball bat.’

‘I can’t believe you’re already trying to ruin my wedding,’ my sister shouts.

‘What the fuck?’ I screech, but I don’t get to say anything else before usually mild mannered Dan interrupts us with an ever so slightly raised voice of his own.

‘Enough,’ he snaps. ‘Let’s just get in the car and head back to the house, it’s not that bad and the house isn’t far.’

‘Are you sure, prince?’ Belle asks in her most sickliest voice.

‘I’m sure, princess.’

Oh God, I’d forgotten about their pathetic pet names for one another. Excuse me while I throw up.

Belle puts her arm around Dan and they slowly head for the car park.

‘I’ll just carry my own case, shall I?’ I call after them.

‘You should have done that in the first place,’ Belle snaps back.

I drag my case to Dan’s car before lifting it up and putting it on the back seat. It’s not that heavy but I suppose if the poor bastard has a weak back there was no way it was going to end well. Belle and Dan are in the front, so I climb in the back with my case.

‘Seatbelts,’ Belle insists. ‘We don’t want any more accidents.’

As instructed, I strap myself in – like I hadn’t planned on doing it anyway. As soon as Belle has given us all the once-over she gives Dan the nod to set off.

I knew that I would end up having arguments with my little sister over the next week or so, but I hadn’t expected the first one to be within minutes of seeing her. There’s an awkward atmosphere in the car. I can just tell my sister is mentally planning the speech she’s going to give me if Dan’s back is anything less than one hundred percent on their wedding day. I decide to try and quash the awkwardness by making small talk – and if there’s one thing Belle loves talking about, it’s Belle.

‘So have all the guests arrived?’ I ask.

‘Would you believe you aren’t the last person to arrive,’ Belle says brightly, like that’s supposed to make me feel like Sister of the Year. ‘Dan’s friend Leo and his mum aren’t here yet because he’s got work. He’s a fireman.’

‘That’s hot,’ I joke.

‘Mia, no,’ my sister says firmly.

‘Oi, it was a joke,’ I insist. Well, it was. Fire, hot, get it? My sense of humour is wasted on this audience. ‘I’m a writer, I’m supposed to make crap jokes.’

‘Anyway,’ she continues, shrugging off my attempt at humour, ‘our lot are here – Mum, Dad, Gran, Granddad, Auntie June, Uncle Steve, Hannah, Meg and Josh.’

Hannah, Meg and Josh are my cousins. They like me because they think I’m cool – much to their mother’s disgust. I haven’t seen them in a while, but I know that Hannah will be fifteen now, Meg is thirteen and Josh is ten.

‘Are your family here, Dan?’ I ask to keep the conversation going.

Dan opens his mouth to talk but my sister gets in there first.

‘Of course they are,’ she snaps. ‘We’ve got Dan’s mum and dad, his grandparents, his brother, his auntie, cousins and so on. Then we have our friends: Beth, Nancy, Jason, Heather.’