Sanguine (adj.) – Cheerfully optimistic, hopeful or confident
‘I’m getting married today!’ Shelley woke me up by racing into my room, jumping on the bed and performing such an energetic dance routine I thought she’d do herself an injury. She then raced out making a squealing noise ‘Ermagerhrddddd I’M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!’
I yawned and sat up in the crumpled bed sheets and rubbed my eyes. Instinctively, my hand went to my stomach. I was growing a baby in there and no one had the faintest idea. Well, no one apart from Christie and Marie. It felt like such a delicious secret that I basked in the enjoyment of being in this small club of three who knew. I also had to face facts that today was going to take all my powers of secrecy and deception to avoid booze, not feel nauseous and fit into my dress without popping the zip. That was before I’d figured out a way to tell Ben he was going to be a daddy.
Shelley sped into the room once more, pulling me from my thoughts. ‘Get up, get up! We’ve got so much to do because I’M GETTING MARRIED!’ she screeched.
‘Okay, okay, I’m up.’ I half-groaned, flipping back the covers.
‘Great. Go and wake Cara up too!’ Shelley ordered, as she sprayed an ozone-layer-melting amount of deodorant, making me cover my mouth to avoid being gassed by the artificial scent of freshly washed linen.
I stumbled to my feet and did what she said; I needed Cara up for the moral support. After padding over the soft carpet and hearing Shelley open the door to welcome people in to help her get ready, I knocked on Cara’s bedroom door. But there was no answer.
‘Cara? Time to get—’ I pushed open the door and was faced with an empty bedroom.
‘Shell?’ I called. ‘I don’t think Cara came back last night.’
We’d gone to bed early. I’d barely been able to keep my eyes open and Shelley had wanted her beauty sleep.
‘What! You’d better be joking! Call her and get her to come home from whichever man she shared a bed with last night,’ Shelley fumed from the other room, as I picked up my mobile to call her AWOL cousin.
Cara’s phone just went straight to voicemail. Even though I knew she would probably be walking in the door at any moment, it wasn’t like she could have forgotten about this bloody wedding, I hurriedly left her a message.
The flat soon became a hive of activity as the hairdresser, photographer, make-up artist and florist arrived to work their magic and drop off essentials. Shelley was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs having her eye make-up expertly applied.
‘Do you not have two bridesmaids who need their make-up doing?’ the lady with poker-straight hair and gappy teeth asked.
‘Yeah, we’ve got Georgia here and my cousin Cara. Is she not back yet?’ Shelley asked, as I went to make everyone a cup of tea for the second time.
‘Erm, not yet. Let me check my phone again.’
I could see Shelley shift in her seat slightly before being told to sit still whilst the woman applied false lashes. Her carefree demeanour had changed as the time passed. Where the hell was Cara?
‘You want me to try anyone else? Maybe your mum’s seen her?’ I offered as her cousin’s phone continued to ring to voicemail.
Shelley hurriedly passed over her mobile to scroll through her contacts list. ‘Shit, we can’t have a bridesmaid who’s gone AWOL,’ she seethed, trying to balance her emotions between anger and worry.
‘At least it’s not the groom,’ the make-up artist said unhelpfully.
Shelley’s mouth dropped. ‘Oh my God, what if Jimmy doesn’t show!’
I tutted and shook my head. ‘Jimmy will be there. Cara will too. I’m sure she’s on her way right now. Let me call Ben and double-check everything is okay at their end. At least that will put your mind at ease?’
Shelley nodded. ‘Good idea, then we need a drink. My nerves can’t take this. I’ll bloody kill her when she turns up. Georgia, can you get the Prosecco open?’
I nodded and felt my stomach do a faint flip at the thought of a drink this early in the morning.
‘Sure, give me a minute.’ I wandered out of the room and into the bedroom, dialling Ben’s number.
‘Hey, you,’ he replied. Just hearing his voice made me bite back the emotions rushing around my chest. As soon as today was over I wanted the rest of our time here to be purely about us, the three of us.
‘Hi, I just wanted to see how everything was going?’
‘Fine, yeah. Jim’s in the shower, his dad has popped by for a drink and we’ve had a fry-up.’
‘Sounds a lot more relaxed than things are here. I’d kill for a fry-up right now.’ I paused. ‘You haven’t heard from Cara at all, have you?’
‘No, why?’
‘Oh, she’s not come back from wherever she was last night. Just a long shot that she might have got in touch with you or Jimmy. Shelley’s starting to freak out a bit, that’s all.’
‘Nope, not heard from her. You worried?’
‘Not yet, I’m sure she’ll be here soon enough. I’d better go and calm Shelley’s nerves with a stiff drink. I can’t wait to see you later.’
‘I can’t bloody wait either.’
I padded back into the kitchen after sending Cara a private Facebook message asking where she was. She hadn’t been online for at least twelve hours. This was getting weirder by the minute. I decided not to call and worry Patty; the least amount of panicking, the better.
‘What did they say? Did you find her?’ Shelley hurriedly asked through a fug of hairspray and perfume.
‘Jimmy is fine and getting ready, so no worries there, and Cara is on her way,’ I lied, mid-cough. I didn’t want Shelley to stress when Cara would turn up any minute, hopefully.
She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll bloody kill her when she gets here,’ she muttered, receiving a sympathetic glance from the make-up artist. ‘Where the hell has she been? She’d better have a flaming good excuse.’
‘Oh, err, she didn’t say, only that she’ll be here soon,’ I lied again.
‘Right, well, I’ll crack open the drinks as it’s your turn to get your make-up done,’ Shelley instructed.
I went and sat in the chair as the make-up artist tutted at my face. My forehead had this sheen that would need all the blotting paper in the world to fix. If this was a side effect of being pregnant, I didn’t like it. When was that blooming radiant glow supposed to happen?
‘Here you go. Lord knows we need this!’ Shelley lifted her champagne flute into the air and chinked the one she gave me. Just the smell of it made my stomach turn. ‘Cheers!’
I gingerly lifted my glass to hers and pretended to tip it to my lips as she closed her eyes and took a large sip. I then poured a mouthful or so into a half-empty mug of cold tea while Shelley’s back was turned. I saw the make-up artist looking at me with a raised eyebrow.
‘I’m on painkillers,’ I mumbled, with as much sass as I could. She nodded, blatantly knowing I was lying, and went back to her array of palettes spread out on the kitchen table.
‘Shelley, if we could get some shots of you on the balcony?’ the photographer asked, taking her outside. This gave me a few precious minutes to hurriedly type another Facebook message to Cara in shouty capital letters, when the door bounced open and she stumbled in.
‘I’m here!’ she sang, her legs twisting in different directions as she tried to figure out how to get her door key out of the lock. Her arms fumbled against the wood as she managed to remember this basic skill. The stench of alcohol trailed in behind her as she dramatically slammed the door shut. ‘Has someone messed with my door?’
I leapt up out of my seat, ignoring the make-up artist grumbling that she’d have to redo my base again now, and went to grab Cara. Thankfully, Shelley was oblivious to the late arrival, as she was too busy grinning at the camera lens on the balcony. I pulled Cara’s skinny and sweaty arm and led her to the bathroom before telling the make-up artist we’d just be a minute.
‘What the fuck are you doing! Where have you been?’ I hissed, locking the door behind us. Cara was struggling to stand up. She was completely wasted.
‘It’s fine. I’m here, ain’t I? Now, let’s get married!’ She fell into a fit of giggles as her legs gave way and she tumbled into the bathtub, pulling the shower curtain down on her. I winced at the state of her. My nostrils felt like they were on fire at the burning stench of booze in the small room, the pathetic fan whirring away stood no chance in purifying the brewery fumes.
‘Look at me! I’m a bride!’ she sang, giggling as she pulled the shower curtain over her messy hair like a veil.
‘Cara! Stop it, you need to sober up. How could you get into such a state?’ I breathed through my mouth, and tried to lift her out of the bath so I could run her a cold shower to wake her up. Although she was built like a bendy coat hanger, she weighed a hell of a lot more than I expected. She wasn’t listening to me; instead she was faffing with the bottle of expensive shower gel, looking utterly perplexed about how to open the thing.
‘Cara!’ I hissed. She looked up at me woefully. Her eyes were bloodshot; deep purple bags pulled them down – she resembled a Hush Puppy dog that was about to cry.
‘Cara, what’s happened?’ I softened my tone, I needed to find answers, but I also needed her to get her shit together before Shelley freaked out that neither of us were currently getting our hair or make-up done.
‘Hey!’ She changed her expression as a thought came to her. ‘You were banned from the wedding. What are you doing here?’
‘Well, I’m now back in the team. A team that is one member short because of you. Now, come on, tell me why you’ve got yourself in such a state?’
She sniffed loudly. ‘I can’t do it!’
‘Can’t do what?’
‘The wedding. This!’ She flung her arms as if pointing to herself. ‘I can’t pretend any more.’
I heard footsteps behind the door before a loud knock thumped against the wood.
‘Are you nearly done? We really have to be getting a move on,’ the make-up artist’s voice shrilled under the closed bathroom door.
‘Nearly,’ I replied breezily, with a hint of piss-off-can’t-you-see-I’m-busy undertone.
I turned back to Cara, who was pulling at the toilet paper, rolling out sheets to dab her eyes and blow her nose. She looked a world away from the glam, put-together version I’d met in Melbourne. Her skin was grey, angry-looking red blotches had broken out on her neck, and her hair needed a good brush. She looked tragic.
‘What can’t you do?’ I repeated, more firmly.
‘I’ve been seeing this guy. This older man,’ she began, with a loud sniff. Bits of toilet paper were stuck to a splodge of snot on her chin.
‘Wait – I thought you were single?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve been seeing this guy, in secret.’ She paused and took a deep breath. ‘I thought he was the one. I thought he loved me too, but it was all bullshit!’ She started to sob again. ‘I went to see him last night, I wanted to ask him to be my plus-one for today. I’d been asking him about it for ages, but never got a solid answer out of him. When I got there he was … he was … with another woman. Why does this always happen to me? Why?’ She began howling, painfully like a wounded animal. I couldn’t believe Shelley hadn’t heard.
Shit.
Getting dumped right before spending a day surrounded by love and happiness and smug other couples was not going to be easy. But, unfortunately for her, having such an important role to play meant she had to man up. Shelley was already back into bridezilla mode and would hardly be sympathetic to her cousin’s plight right now.
‘Cara, I know how awful it is to be dumped. I get it.’ I bent down to her level, gently moving a strand of slicked-down hair from her forehead. ‘But today is about Shelley. I promise that tomorrow we will go and find this shitbag and give him what he deserves, or spend the day in our pyjamas, eating ice cream and singing power ballads, but today, today you have to bring your A game.’ I tried to give her my fiercest look.
She remained silent for a moment. ‘I don’t know if I can, Georgia,’ she said in a whisper.
‘You can and you will.’ I nodded determinedly. ‘Now come on, get up, take a shower and I’ll make you a very strong cup of coffee. I’ll say that you weren’t feeling well or something.’ I smiled at her gently.
Looks like it wasn’t just me who was going to have to struggle through the rest of the day. I left her with the shower running and the promise that she would brush her teeth and wash her hair as quickly as possible.
‘Everything all right? Is that Cara? I’ll bloody kill her for being so late!’ Shelley screeched the minute I stepped from the bathroom, quickly shutting the door behind me.
‘It’s fine. She’s not feeling great but I’m sure a shower, a hot drink and some toast will sort her out. Speaking of which, have you eaten anything yet?’
Shelley pulled her narrowed eyes, which had been glaring at the closed bathroom door, to me and shook her head.
‘No, I’m too nervous to get anything down me. I’ll be fine.’ She glanced at the clock and at the make-up artist, who gave an over-the-top dramatic sigh and started tapping her foot.
‘You need to get a move on,’ Shelley snapped at me before banging a fist loudly on the bathroom door. ‘So does she!’ she shouted, then stomped off to top up her glass of fizz.
I slumped back into the make-up artist’s chair, ignoring her complaints that she would have to start all over again, and closed my eyes. Trying to get the bride to the church on time was harder than I ever imagined.