Over the years I’ve come to understand – not every wedding is blissful and romantic. Wedding days are wired to be exciting and heart-filled, but add in strong characters with opposing ideas, and they quickly become power struggles. There are a lot more horror stories than you’d imagine.
This is another thing I’ve been dying to ask. ‘Is anyone on your side coming – apart from me?’
Cally gives a wistful smile. ‘I’m an only child, my mum’s asthma is too bad for her to fly, and my two best women friends are seven and eight months pregnant. We’re having the wedding party we really want once we go back home again.’ She lets out a sigh. ‘I ended up pouring my heart out to Jess one day on the phone, and her idea of having you to help, Milla, has saved my sanity.’
‘You can definitely count on us.’ Forget carrying tissues, I might be taking out the mother of the groom.
Cally puts a hand on her waist. ‘I might have managed, if it weren’t for …’ She breaks off and looks at the tape measure hanging around Sera’s neck.
I step in because it’s happened to me so often this last year. ‘We all know what it’s like to hit the cookie dough Haagen Dazs to bust the stress and wake up ten pounds heavier.’ Actually, looking round at the other lean people in the room, they probably don’t know at all, but whatever.
Cally winces, then she lowers her voice. ‘Actually, it’s top secret – but I’m pregnant. It wasn’t planned but we’re really happy. I just didn’t count on expanding so fast.’ As she pushes back her hair there are sweat beads on her forehead. ‘But his family can’t know, or they’ll only think it’s proof I’ve trapped him.’ Her voice is rising. ‘His mum is already frosty – one whiff of this and she’ll turn into the ice queen.’
It’s one tiny ‘p’ word, but it’s still enough to bring all the awful memories from nine months ago flooding back. But even so, my heart goes out to Cally. ‘How have you been feeling?’ I mean, the first three months are notorious, even superwoman Phoebe didn’t escape the all-day nausea. ‘Are you drinking plenty of ginger tea and nibbling on bread sticks?’
That sunny morning last summer when I came into the office with the usual takeaway coffees, and instead of diving on them Phoebe just winced … then marched out. Then came back an hour and a half later looking like death and sipping a bottle of iced Fentimans lemonade. That’s another moment etched on my brain like a silver nitrate photo negative.
Before that I think Phoebe was scared that Ben might wake up one day and slip straight back to where he’d come from. But even though the pregnancy finally slammed the door on Ben ever changing his mind, and however desperate she’d been to make it happen, I still suspect that on that particular day the enormity stunned her before it delighted her.
She confirmed the news later that week by throwing a Clearblue pregnancy test stick in the office bin, then sat for a full three hours before she finally went off to pee a second time and left me alone with it. After everything that had come before, this was like an extra kick in the guts. For a while, the only way I could cope with it was to pretend it wasn’t happening.
Cally’s eyes are lighting up. ‘You didn’t say you had kids, Milla?’
I can feel Poppy at my side giving my elbow a sympathetic squeeze. And standing there in the studio it hits me how much I wanted that to be me.
I take a moment. Swallow hard. ‘No, it was someone I shared an office with.’ Poor Cally, it’s not her fault. ‘You’re safe with me though, I know all the cheats.’
Needless to say Phoebe turned out to be the kind of pregnant person who couldn’t lift a finger and had to have every last cream cracker carried to her. It wasn’t that I wanted Ben back – I didn’t. But rather than me being reminded every time she retched or went pale that she was getting the cosy family I’d wanted, it was in everyone’s interest for me to keep her feeling as well as I could. A constant supply of ice cubes to suck, mint tea, ginger thins – you name it, I tried it. And thanks to looking after my mum for all those years, mostly I was successful. So long as I could keep her as close to normal as possible, until she started to show it gave me another few months to get my head around it all.
Cally gives a shudder. ‘All I can eat so far is chocolate cake which is why I’ve piled on the pounds.’
‘So you mentioned you’d like me to carry your tissues on Saturday?’
Her grin is rueful. ‘There’s a Gucci bag over there full of my favourite snacks. Can you carry that too?’
‘Of course.’ So much for thinking this was going to be straight forward. But if anyone needs a wingman, it’s Cally. She’s one of those women who are so open and honest and lovely, she deserves a perfect day.
Sera’s looking over to me. ‘Your dress is waiting over there, Milla.’
Cally pulls a face. ‘Fingers crossed yours fits better than mine.’
I’m puzzled by the floor length cover on the rail, because Cally mentioned cocktail length. ‘I was expecting a short one?’
Cally wrinkles her nose again. ‘Me too. Then Sera showed me a full-length dark champagne satin with over layers of burnished gold lace and tulle in your size and I couldn’t resist.’ She sends me an anxious smile. ‘So long as you don’t mind an upgrade to official bridesmaid?’
It’s more the leap to what sounds like a Cinderella ball dress I’m surprised at, but I can’t say that. Sera’s dresses are amazing, but ballgowns aren’t exactly my thing. ‘Whatever works for you.’ So long as I can wear my control pants, I don’t give a damn, and at least I’m being paid.
Sera laughs. ‘Have a look and try it on. Then we’ll pop Cally’s next layer over.’
‘Great.’ I’m almost at the hanging rail when Cally recalls the last of the details. ‘And the taxi will be here to pick you up at seven-thirty sharp on Saturday morning.’
I let out a squeak. ‘That early?’
‘The ceremony is at twelve, we don’t want to be rushed. You have a suite booked to stay over at the hotel. And I’ll email you the final order of the day, so you know what’s coming.’
‘Lovely.’ My stomach is clenching with each new piece of information. I should be used to dawn starts, we’re always doing them with the wedding fairs.
She’s still going. ‘Oh, and I can’t drink, but no one can know. So if you could help out with that too?’
