Ardent (adj.) – Enthusiastic or passionate
‘Here you go.’ Kelli passed me over a Styrofoam cup of coffee before perching on the edge of the chair opposite, smoothing down her tailored charcoal-grey dress as she sat. The girl who’d come to us for work experience wearing Avril Lavigne’s wardrobe circa 2005 had blossomed into this confident and competent businesswoman, dressed for success. She was killing it in the office-wear style stakes. I self-consciously tugged on my own deep purple pleated skirt, hoping I didn’t let the team down. I’d read this thing in a magazine a few years ago that if you wanted to be remembered for all the right reasons, then you should wear a pop of bright colour in corporate environments. I was hoping that Cosmo never lied.
‘That machine is more complicated than the one Felix has installed.’ She nodded her head to an intimidating neon-blue and stainless-steel coffee machine emitting strange grinding and beeping noises in the corner of the tastefully decorated waiting area. ‘You need a bloody PhD in barista-ing just to figure it out.’
‘Maybe that’s our first test,’ I whispered, stealing a glance at the bespectacled-wearing receptionist. I craned my neck to see if she was surreptitiously observing us and making notes to pass on to the panel of bankers we were about to meet.
‘Well, luckily all those years of making you and Ben coffee means I’m more than qualified.’ Kelli grinned and poured a sachet of sugar into her steaming drink. We’d been sitting here for ages, running through our presentation, and now I just wanted to go and shine. I was about to ask her how she was getting on with the new team of designers she’d been managing when my mobile rang.
‘Georgia, I know you’re just about to go in, but I wanted to let you know that we’ve been given sign-off on the content for Lonely Planet,’ the high-pitched and excitable tones of my PA, Erin, rang down the line. ‘I’ve also seen that Ben has just passed over Germany and thought you might like to know.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Oh.’ She let out a tinkly giggle. ‘I mean, I’ve been watching his flight on this app to see where he was. To make sure there weren’t any delays,’ she hurriedly added. ‘It’s so cool, it even shows you the view from the camera underneath the plane so it’s like I was there with him!’ she babbled.
I tucked the phone between my neck and my ear, sipped my coffee, and noticed Kelli roll her eyes in mirth. She’d openly admitted that she didn’t have the patience to deal with Erin; their working styles were worlds away from each other.
‘Erm, great, anything else?’
I heard papers rustling. ‘I’ve rearranged all your meetings for when you’re away to be sure that you don’t get hassled on your holiday. Oh, and I’ve set a reminder to check you in online for your flight to Melbourne when it opens. You know that journey takes twenty-three hours!’ She blew air through her teeth.
‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ I said, repeating what was fast becoming some sort of mantra for me.
‘Well, rather you than me. Actually, scratch that, I’d swap places for a break in Australia compared to London. Wait – is Oz even sunny this time of year? Isn’t it their autumn if it’s our spring? No matter. Compared to here I’d give it a go. Did you know there’s another tube strike planned for next week?’
‘Erin?’
‘Whoops, sorry, I went off on a bit of a tandem then.’
‘Tangent,’ I corrected her and smiled to myself.
I’d warmed to her when we’d hired her as she was so bubbly and chatty, but there were times, like when I was about to go and pitch for a huge investment deal and needed to stay focused, when I willed her to wrap things up this side of the decade.
‘Listen, we’re just about to go in so I need to get off the phone.’
‘Ah, of course! Sorry! Oh, one more thing, the estate agents have called because they couldn’t get hold of you, I’m guessing because your calls are diverted to me and then with Ben on a flight too. They said that they have finally sorted a moving date. I’ll add it all into an email for you.’
For a moment I forgot about preparing myself for this pitch and allowed myself a frisson of excitement. No matter how many times I thought about the fact that Ben and I would soon be homeowners, it still didn’t feel real. Life was almost too good to be true. I didn’t dare think about it too much, otherwise I’d convince myself that something just had to go tits up.
‘Got it. Thanks, Erin. Now I do need to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.’
‘Great! Good luck with the pitch. Break a leg! Is that what they say? Well, don’t literally do that otherwise your trip down under will have to be called off and, from what you’ve told me, Shelley wouldn’t appreciate that one bit!’
‘K, thanks. Bye.’ I hung up, cutting her off.
‘All good back at the ranch?’ Kelli asked, stifling a smile.
I nodded and popped my phone back into my bag. ‘Fine. You need to get used to her; she’ll be the one helping you while we’re both away.’
Kelli let out a faux groan. ‘I’ll soon have her working efficiently.’
‘She is efficient, just a little excitable sometimes.’
‘A little excitable? A hardcore Justin Bieber fan finding out they’ve got a meet-and-greet in his bedroom is less excitable than her!’ She laughed. ‘So, the big wedding of the year, huh? On a scale of one to ten, how likely are they to play Kylie and Jason at the evening disco?’
‘Hmm, a solid zero I’d say.’
‘What no “Especially for You”? What about “Come On Eileen”? If that’s not blasted out and you’re forced to dance with some drunk uncle with bad breath, then the marriage is fair game to be legally annulled,’ she said sagely.
‘Shelley’s already said she doesn’t want anything super cheesy; she was vetting the DJ’s collection a few weeks ago to make sure.’
‘What! But it’s a wedding! That’s like saying you don’t want to say any vows because they’re a bit old-fashioned. I mean I’m all for making it “your day, your way”, but there are some things you don’t mess with, and doing “YMCA” with wedding cake crumbs in your hair and some bloke’s tie around your head is one of them.’ Kelli shook her head in disbelief. ‘I’m guessing she’s gone all bridezilla then?’
‘If you call a daily updated WhatsApp group with me and her cousin Cara, who’s the other bridesmaid, slightly over-the-top, then yeah. Every morning I wake up to at least fifty unread messages from the pair of them. Photos of table centrepieces, links to wedding blogs where there was a real-life shaman performing the ceremony, and conversations back and forth over the preferred height of heels the bridesmaids should wear. The worst thing is they live together, so why there needs to be a text group, I don’t know. I mean, I’m happy to be involved, but I’m just too busy to be as into it as they are.’
‘Not to mention what happened to you with your own wedding.’ Kelli winced.
‘Yeah, that too, I guess.’ I absent-mindedly picked at my nail. It had felt like it had been constant wedding chatter since Shelley had sent out her ‘save the date’ cards.
‘Seriously though, a shaman?!’ Kelli struggled to hold herself together; even the receptionist kept looking over to see what was so funny. ‘A shaman! Oh, I’ve heard it all now!’ she said through chokes of laughter.
‘Don’t, it’s not a joke!’ I flashed the receptionist a nothing-to-see-here-type smile.
‘Sorry. Okay, game face on.’ She tried to straighten her mouth and wafted her hands at her eyes to compose herself. ‘God, you poor thing, going all that way down under to spend time with this marital monster. Tell her from me she needs to get a grip. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be much of a holiday for you and Ben.’
I was about to say that I’d given up trying to remind Shelley that it was for one day, ONE DAY, and instead was making sure not to tip her over the edge when she was so fraught with nerves and constantly consumed by stress. I also secretly hoped that once I got over there she would be a lot calmer and on top of things, but I was pulled from sticking up for her as we were beckoned over to head into the lions’ den.
‘Miss Green? They’re ready to see you now.’
Here goes.
*
We’re nailing this. It literally could not be going any better. They’re eating out of our hands, loving what we have to offer, and quite rightly so.
‘So, ladies and gentlemen, if you turn to page fifteen in your packs, you will see our year-on-year growth, which I’m sure you’ll agree is pretty impressive in this current market.’ I beamed proudly at the corporate faces spread around the mahogany desk in front of me as a rustle of papers filled the pine-scented room.
The past twenty minutes had flown by in what felt like a whirl of PowerPoint presentations, marketing stats and business buzzwords. Kelli had given a breakdown of our figures and projected financial targets, all of which had been met with subtle eyebrow raises and the slightest of smiles.
I confidently stepped forward, enjoying the spotlight and opportunity to talk about how unique my business was.
‘I wanted to tell you a little about how Lonely Hearts Travels came about. I only discovered the joy that comes from booking a flight and jetting off after I was jilted, and found the courage to turn my devastating break-up into a whole new life, thanks to the opportunities that travel gave me.’ I paused for effect. ‘I now get to work with broken-hearted singles who, just like I was, are looking to find themselves by changing their scene and embracing a sense of adventure. After being dumped it can be all too easy to sit back and feel like the weight of the world is against you, that your hand has been dealt and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well, travel is something you can do. Go to that country you’ve dreamt about visiting, hang out with like-minded people, taste new food and take envy-inducing photos showing how you are having the best life. By getting out there you get a new perspective on the world; it can even show you that your ex wasn’t this perfect person you’d built them up to be. No one’s perfect, after all, and don’t get me started on the pedestal that I’d put my ex-fiancé on.’ A weak laugh floated from the room, spurring me on.
‘They say that travel is pure escapism, which is why it makes sense to turn to your backpack when you’re at a time in your life that you want to escape from. On the tours we run, we encourage guests to talk about their break-ups in a healthy way, so that they don’t return home still carrying the weight of their sadness with them. It’s like shedding a skin, a heavy fur coat that you didn’t realise you were lugging around, and that’s the most refreshing and amazing feeling there is.’
Kelli was smiling at me to continue.
‘At Lonely Hearts Travels we believe that—’
I was cut off by the shrill ringing of someone’s mobile phone. The suits shifted in their seats as I paused and waited for the culprit to turn it off. I was half tempted to remind them that the sign in reception said all phones were expected to be placed on silent when in the presentation room. Nobody moved. I let out a little laugh as the tune rang on, increasing in pitch. The awkwardness grew as they exchanged confused glances as to who was being so ignorant as to let their phone ring for this long.
‘Anyone going to fess up?’ I smiled. They stared back at me blankly.
‘Georgia,’ Kelli hissed, violently nodding her head towards my handbag placed under the table, which I now realised was the source of the repetitive ringing.
Crap. If it’s Erin, I’ll bloody kill her. She’d been messing about with my phone to make sure my calls transferred to her and must not have done it correctly.
‘Oh!’ I flustered. ‘I am sorry! I was sure I’d put it on silent, I …’ I leant down and fumbled in my handbag, feeling my cheeks flush and heartbeat quicken. I muted the call, without checking who it was, and stood up, brushing my hair from my face and trying to compose myself.
‘So sorry.’ I cleared my throat. ‘So, as I was saying, at Lonely Hearts Travels we pride ourselves on offering unique trips to fabulous destinations that will get even the most broken-hearted guests back on top form.’
I paused to check that I still had a captive audience. Kelli had a slightly manic smile fixed on her pale face. The only other woman in the room, bar Kelli and me, had her piercing green eyes narrowed into a pinched frown. She’d been the only one to shake my hand limply and fail to raise a smile during the introductions. So much for sisterhood solidarity, I thought, nodding at Kelli to press play on the short video she’d created. It was a montage of clips filmed by various tour guides showing our guests having the time of their lives. From a woman laughing and waving in the back of a colourful tuk-tuk in Bangkok to groups of smiling tour-goers trekking in the lush rainforest of Brazil, from guests practising yoga poses on a beach in India to dancing at a festival in Berlin, all set to a Florence + the Machine song, that uplifting one with lots of clapping; it never failed to give me goosebumps. This sense of pride that I’d started a business that meant something, that these people were getting on with their lives and, often, changing their lives because of being on one of our tours really was incredible. With my life being so fast paced, I didn’t stop to take in what we’d achieved as often as I probably should. I made a mental note to take a step back before rushing on to the next project in the future.
Just as the crescendo hit and my throat felt clogged with emotion, my phone rang again.
Green-eyed woman coughed loudly and purposefully as the gentleman next to her shifted in his seat in embarrassment for me. I avoided Kelli’s eye but sensed her bristle. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d be livid too; we’d worked too hard to look unprofessional like this. I scrabbled to the floor and delved my hand in my bag to shut it up. I thought I’d turned the bastard thing onto silent, so why was it still ringing!
My finger was pressing on the off button when I noticed that the persistent caller was Shelley, my best friend and current Australian bridezilla. Why was she calling me? We always pre-arranged our Skype sessions because of the time difference. It must have been the middle of the night there. I pressed decline and was just about to turn my phone off when a text pinged through from her.
‘Call me ASAP! Everything ruined!!! Jimmy’s gone.’
Jimmy, her fiancé and Ben’s best friend, had gone? Gone where?
I stood up and brushed some fluff from my skirt. My bold purple skirt that in a sea of neutrals they’d fail to forget. Stupid Cosmo. Stupid skirt. I apologised once more and thanked Kelli for jumping in where I’d left off. I cleared my throat and continued with my pre-rehearsed speech, except I was struggling to concentrate. What did she mean, Jimmy had gone? I knew we’d been chatting before about how stressed she was over the wedding and how some of her ideas were a little – well, a lot – farcical, but this was serious. Super serious. I felt this scratching at the back of my mind as what I refused to believe wouldn’t stay restrained. It had happened again. I knew only too well the pain, humiliation and heartache of being jilted, and now it was happening to my best friend.
‘Excuse me, do you mind if I just …’ I picked up a glass of water from the table in front of me and gulped it back in one, feeling Kelli’s confused eyes trained on me. ‘Something in my throat,’ I laughed lightly, and tried to get back on track with what I was saying.
The rest of the pitch went by without a problem or interruption, and thankfully Kelli took centre stage, doing an excellent job in wrapping it up. I felt like I was going through the motions as I was desperate to get out of this stuffy room and speak to Shelley. It had taken all my concentration to stick to our script, answer their questions and keep my head in the game, when all I could think was how heartbroken and sick I’d felt when my ex-fiancé, Alex, had left me. She must be beside herself.
‘Excellent, well, I think we have everything we need for now. We are very keen to get things up and running as soon as possible, so we’ll call you tomorrow afternoon with our decision.’ The deep, monotone voice of the man opposite pulled me from my thoughts.
‘Thank you so much for your time, and apologies again for my phone.’ I blushed and shook their hands, giving the green-eyed lady an overly officious smile as Kelli quickly passed out our business cards. I kept that smile fixed rigidly to my face until we were back in the plush corridor waiting to be escorted to reception.
‘I’ll be two minutes, just nipping to the loo!’ I hurriedly told Kelli, before rushing into the bathroom.
I clocked my face in the brightly lit mirrors; all the colour had been washed from my skin and the lipstick that I’d patiently applied, matching lip liner and all, had been absent-mindedly chewed off. I shut the door of one of the stalls, sat on the closed toilet seat and pressed FaceTime; within seconds, Shelley’s face filled most of the screen.
‘Hey! What’s happened?’ I garbled, taking in her appearance and feeling that familiar sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. Dark, heavy bags sagged underneath her bloodshot eyes, stringy strands of dull blonde hair were stuck to her frowning forehead, and a cluster of angry spots lined her chin. Shelley shook her head. That’s when I realised that in her sleep-deprived-looking eyes were tears threatening to spill.
Oh God, it was true, Jimmy had left her. The wedding was off. She’d been jilted before her big day, just like I had.
She started to sob loudly.
‘Shelley! Oh hun, please stop crying. Tell me what’s going on.’
She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, judging from her ghostly pale skin and the trembling hands that wiped at the snot from the tip of her nose.
‘It’s … it’s …’ She grabbed a tissue from somewhere off screen and loudly blew into it. ‘It’s Jimmy. He’s gone.’
A cold chill ran up my spine. ‘But why? What’s happened? How could he do this to you?’
Shelley shook her head and grabbed another tissue to dab at her eyes, leaving white flakes of Kleenex on her sallow cheeks. ‘We’ve had a row. A huge row!’
They never rowed.
‘A row about what?’
‘The wedding, yet again.’ She tried to catch her breath. ‘He told me that he hates the table centres I’ve picked out and that he really doesn’t want us to have a photo booth, even though I told him that this was the one thing I wanted.’ With that, she was off again, sniffing and wiping her snotty nose.
‘Wait.’ I paused, trying to understand correctly. ‘Table centres and photo booths?’ I repeated slowly, just to make sure I’d heard her. These two innocent things were the reason that her patient and loving fiancé had dumped her and called off their wedding? I didn’t get it.
‘Yes! But that was just the start. I feel like he’s not supporting me with the whole thing. I feel so stressed out. I mean just look at me, Georgia. LOOK AT ME!’
I winced and hoped the quality of this call wasn’t good enough for her to see my reaction.
‘I need about a year of sleep. I’ve never felt so stressed out before. If it’s not wedding planning, it’s managing everyone’s expectations, treading carefully between the views of his mum and my mum. Oh my God, we’ve got less than a fortnight to go and there’s still so much to do, it’s just a complete nightmare!’
I pinched the bridge of my nose, still trying to make sense of it all. ‘Hang on – so the wedding is still on?’
She jolted back in her chair, looking confused. ‘Of course. Why? You’re still coming, aren’t you? Oh God, don’t tell me there’s been a problem with your flight. I knew you should have come out here earlier!’ she wailed.
‘So where has Jimmy gone? You said that he’d gone?’ I asked, through slightly gritted teeth.
‘He’s gone to see about getting a photo booth, like I asked him to do weeks ago.’
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was desperate to bark that she could have ruined a really important meeting for me, but judging by how on edge she seemed, it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t her fault; I was the one who should have turned my phone to silent and not jumped to conclusions, remembering that she’d been struck down with a case of bridezillaitis meaning rational decisions were few and far between. I sighed and tried to be the supportive best friend, grateful that she hadn’t suffered the same fate I had.
‘Why don’t you just take a break from it all for a bit?’ I said soothingly. ‘Then we’ve got our hen-do road trip to look forward to!’
Originally, Shelley had insisted that she didn’t need a hen do, despite me reasoning that with all the stress she felt she was under, a night out to let her hair down was exactly what she needed. Then one day, out of the blue, she’d announced that she wanted us to go on a road trip. She’d suggested starting in Melbourne and ending in Adelaide. We’d take a few days to drive up the coast, stopping at cool little beaches and quaint coastal towns as a sort of hen-do/pre-wedding relax time. She was then further insistent that she would plan out the exact route, ignoring my offer to help.
‘It can’t come soon enough.’ She’d caught her breath now and seemed a lot brighter as she was back on her favourite topic of conversation.
‘You know, I really wish you’d let me help you organise that; you need to let others in to take some of the burden off you doing it all.’
She wafted her hand at the screen. ‘It made sense for me to plan the route, being an Aussie and all, plus Cara has helped.’ Cara was a wannabe pro-wedding planner by the sounds of it. She was only trying to help, but whenever I’d mentioned ideas they never seemed to be as good as her suggestions. ‘I’m leaving the fun festivities up to you though!’
‘Don’t you worry about that.’ I’d already stocked up on everything and anything penis-shaped as hen-do props.
‘God, Georgia, there’s so much to do and so little time to do it.’ She shook her head skywards, as if hoping for divine intervention to help her with making favours and finalising seating plans.
‘Well, maybe explain to Jimmy how much you’d appreciate his help. A job shared is a job halved, or whatever that saying is?’
She sniffed. ‘He is good, well, most of the time.’ She plastered on a smile that was more like the Shelley I knew. ‘Sorry, Georgia, for just unloading then!’
I smiled kindly, hoping that her mini freak-out hadn’t messed up our pitch. ‘Hey, that’s what I’m here for.’
‘Well, I appreciate it. I can’t bloody wait to see you. Listen, I’d better go and try and get more sleep like you suggested. Speak soon!’
With that she hung up, leaving me looking into the black of my phone screen, wondering how I was going to get through Planet Wedding once I got over there.