Perspicacious (adj.) – Having strong insight into and an understanding of things
The small, half-moon bay was just ahead of us. Golden sand glinted in the sunlight against the gentle lapping waves where a couple of people were snorkelling. The trees lining the edge of the semicircle had been draped in white satin streamers, which were billowing in the slow, warm breeze, and bunting was tied up between branches with colourful ribbons wrapped around their trunks.
The small number of wedding guests were seated on white wooden chairs laid out on either side of a section of sand to make room for an aisle. Huge church candles in gleaming silver lanterns dotted the sides and rose petals had been artfully scattered around. At the front, under a willow arch with chunky flower heads poking through and blue glass baubles hanging from the top, stood a very nervous-looking Jimmy, an angry-looking registrar and my Ben.
He looked bloody gorgeous. He was wearing a deep blue suit, a creamy white shirt open at the top and flip-flops, which, for some reason, all seemed to work. He grinned at me as soon as he saw us approaching, while Jimmy kept his eyes trained on the water ahead. People started to clap and wave, and thankfully Cara seemed to perk up at my shoulder. Shelley slowed down to take it all in.
Music was playing as we got closer, a soft string version of a song I recognised but couldn’t place. Behind the guests were some small groups of sunbathers who’d sat up on their towels to enjoy the show, and children who had previously been playing bat and ball stopped their game to gawp at the pretty woman in the wedding dress. The music changed and the traditional wedding march song rang out of some invisible speakers over our heads. Keith gripped his daughter tightly by the arm and shook his head to stop himself from tearing up.
‘Here we go!’ Shelley grinned and gave us the nod, gently patting her dad on his tense forearm.
Cara was the first to go up the aisle; she was either hiding her hangover remarkably well or had made a complete recovery on the journey here. Either way, she glided up to the front without fault and smiled kindly at all the guests who were now on their feet and peering back at us with their camera phones trained in our direction.
‘Georgia, your turn!’ Shelley whispered, and nodded her head in the direction Cara had just gone.
I took a deep breath and smiled back at her and her dad. ‘Good luck.’
As I started to take slow steps along the aisle, I suddenly felt this rising emotion of wobbles grip me. I could feel the eyes of everyone focus on me. I felt myself skid a little on my footing.
‘Fuck,’ I muttered under my breath. Picking my head up high, I forced myself to get to the end, to reach the front where my boyfriend was waiting. Jesus, why was it taking so long? Why did I feel so hot and sick under the scrutiny of everyone? Why did I agree to this?
I’d walked up the aisle in my own head hundreds of times; I’d daydreamed about what the guests would say to me, how they would compliment me on my dress or the decorations that I’d spent months hand-making. I’d used up so much of my brain space thinking about the big day that I never got to experience. Seeing the effort and stress that Shelley had put in for her wedding brought it all back to me. The squabbles between families, the need to please everyone, the worries about budgets, the fear of missing out, the desperation for it to be perfect because you only got one shot at this. I practically raced the last part to stand in front of the chair beside Cara, hoping that my hammering heart would calm down. I couldn’t even look at Ben, couldn’t bring myself to focus on Shelley, who was now taking her time to walk down the aisle behind me. I just felt like I wanted to vomit.
I glanced around. A few skinny trees lay to one side and the rest was the open bay. The reception venue was a good few minutes’ walk over the hot sand to get to, and there were no other toilets or enclosed areas around to secretly throw up in. Breathe, just breathe, I told myself, realising that Shelley had now made it to the front and was kissing her dad on the cheek before he came and sat to my right. The registrar tapped his watch with a sigh and then began.
I let out a small burp that was mercifully blocked out by the music still playing and continued to manically smile at the soon-to-be-wed couple. As the registrar wiped his reddened forehead and beckoned for all the guests to sit back down, I gratefully sunk into my chair and told myself to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. This was not the time to start experiencing morning sickness.
The nauseous feeling eventually passed and I lifted my gaze from the stubby tufts of grass shooting from the edges of the sand ahead of me to Shelley and Jimmy, who were about to exchange their rings, with not a bird of prey in sight. I realised that Ben had been staring at me this whole time, his eyebrows knotted together, probably because of how green my skin had turned.
He was mouthing something to me. ‘Are you okay?’
I nodded and gave him a weak smile, feeling my stomach flip once more. It was as if this morning’s drama to get Shelley here had subsided and now the secret baby wanted its moment to shine too.
Ben caught my eye for a second longer, looking as if he didn’t fully believe me, then nodded and turned away. I tried to focus on the registrar, who was loudly droning on about marriage being the most important step a person can take in their lives and how sacred this bond was between these two people. I felt Cara flinch beside me.
‘What joy this union brings to these two people who have mutually decided to take the path of true love, light and happiness towards a better future. A future that contains never-ending promises of honesty, respect and commitment. Their vows to cherish and love each other are the most wonderful and important steps in the world,’ the registrar explained, in his monotone voice.
‘Pfft, a load of bullshit,’ Cara grumbled. I heard the person in the row behind us tut, and prayed that her Uncle Keith hadn’t heard her. ‘So, if you’re single you’re just useless?’ she said, a little louder, until I nudged her in the ribs and gave her a look.
Soon after he’d proclaimed that they were now man and wife; everyone was back on their feet, clapping, whooping and taking photos of the couple. Once they broke for air from their first kiss, Jimmy pumped his arm and Shelley wiped away the happy tears from her eyes. I had a feeling that Jimmy was as ecstatic about marrying the woman he loved as he was that she was no longer a bridezilla. They practically skipped back down the aisle, shaking hands with friends and family members who were congratulating them. I linked my arm through Cara’s and hissed that she needed to smile and act like everything was fine as we followed them down the aisle and over to the restaurant opposite the bay.
Tissue pom-poms were strung on invisible threads between whitewashed beams, pastel-coloured flowers bloomed from vintage birdcages, and huge lit-up letters spelling out ‘LOVE’ glowed from the back of the airy room. There was a selfie station set up in the corner – a compromise on a photo booth; chalkboards with beautiful handwritten messages telling guests to say cheese and use the hashtag #Smileforthenewlyweds were artfully propped on tall tables. Wicker baskets full of flip-flops – sorry, thongs – were placed at the edge of the dance floor for later. Looking around at the room that could have come from one of Shelley’s many wedding magazines, I felt this strange feeling of pride that she’d pulled it off.
‘Hey, beautiful, nice flowers.’ Ben sidled over to me with a glass of fizz in each hand. Oh God, here we go. ‘I got us both a drink.’
‘Yeah, it’s something hey?’ I shook my head; my neck was starting to ache under the weight of this stupid crown. ‘Oh, I’m good for a drink thanks. I’ve just finished one,’ I lied. ‘Think I’m going to pace myself.’ I caught his downturned mouth. ‘But, thanks.’ He nodded and placed one of the full flutes on a nearby tall table trussed up in ruffled paper and confetti stars that were catching the light. ‘It’s still going to be a long day, and who knows when Shelley will need me to help her with her dress or whatever maids of honour do at the actual wedding.’
Ben smiled. ‘You look absolutely fantastic, you know. Flower headpiece and all.’ He cast his eyes over the golden-coloured dress, drinking me in. I self-consciously placed a hand over my stomach, knowing too well that the material was a lot tighter than it should have been.
‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ I smiled and pecked him gently on the cheek, inhaling his familiar citrusy aftershave.
‘What a morning eh? I heard about the wedding-planner dude doing a runner. Was that what you were doing when you couldn’t meet me yesterday?’ he asked, quickly stepped out of the way of a young waitress who was scuttling past, struggling with a heavy tray of beer bottles.
‘Yep!’ I squeaked, forgetting that I’d almost broken the baby daddy news to him then. I knew we needed to talk, we had a lot to discuss, but not just yet.
‘What a shit.’
‘Don’t remind me.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘First, he went AWOL, then the car to bring us here was caught in traffic so we had to jump on the next ferry over, then Shelley had to get changed in a public loo, and not to mention the drama with Cara.’ I glanced around to see where Shelley’s cousin was hanging out. I spied her leaning on the bar, twirling a straw around her full cocktail glass, giggling to the barman who must have been at least ten years younger than her.
‘Jimmy was convinced that Shelley wasn’t going to turn up,’ Ben admitted, taking a long sip of his drink.
‘Well, we were cutting it very close.’ I winced with a smile.
‘I mean he was worried that she’d been listening to you.’ He dropped his voice to a whisper.
‘What. Me? Why?’
Ben let out a deep sigh and finished his glass before continuing. ‘Apparently she told him about the row you had.’ Oh, that. ‘You never told me that you two had fallen out.’ He raised his eyebrows, as if waiting for me to explain.
‘Just the stress of the wedding was getting to her and …’ I trailed out, it was all in the past now, what did it matter?
‘And you thought it was all bullshit. Marriage, I mean.’
I felt a blush dance on my cheeks. It was so warm in this room and I needed to get something to eat soon. I didn’t want another repeat episode of feeling like I was about to vom during the ceremony.
‘I don’t get it, Georgia.’
‘Get what?’
‘You and weddings,’ he said, running a hand through his dark locks. ‘I mean, you came over here to help your mate out, but then have been blowing hot and cold over what you think of it all. One moment you’re acting almost jealous that she’s having this big fancy day, and then the next moment you’re scoffing at how ridiculous and over the top it is.’
I stared at him. Had I been doing that?
‘Oh, well, no, I …’ I bumbled, then took a deep breath. ‘What does it matter anyway?’ I looked up at him. Why did he care what I thought about getting married; it wasn’t like either of us had brought up that as a possibility in the near future? That was before this baby bombshell I was soon to be chucking his way.
‘No reason, I just find you hard to keep up with.’ He gratefully picked up another flute of fizz as a waiter sauntered past. ‘You want one?’
‘What, a wedding?’ I scoffed.
He shook his head. ‘No, I meant a drink.’
‘Oh.’ I smiled weakly. ‘Erm, no, I’m good thanks.’
I needed to tell him. I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but I needed to tell him that he was soon to be a dad. I took a deep breath. ‘Well, actually there is something I need to—’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you would kindly take your seats for the wedding breakfast.’ A loud booming voice rang through the room, instantly hushing the chatter that had been going on around us and silencing me from sharing my secret.
Ben glanced at his watch. ‘Thank God for that, I’m starving.’ He took my arm, leading me to the top table where we would be sitting at either end. ‘Wait, sorry, babe, what was it you were going to say?’
‘Oh, nothing. I’ll tell you another time.’ I brushed it off and let him gently move us past the other guests, who were scanning down the seating plan to find their spot for the meal, trying to work out what had just happened. Was Ben on the verge of proposing? Had I been putting him off from doing that by being such a wedding phobic? I didn’t have time to think as I was squashed in beside Keith and Johanna at the long table at the top of the room. Speeches were first on the agenda.
Thankfully, both Jimmy’s and Shelley’s parents were on much better terms than when they’d all been in that restaurant together. After spending yesterday exploring Sydney, they’d bonded over overpriced coffee and a mutual hatred of traffic jams. I mean, who didn’t hate traffic jams? But I wasn’t going to complain – the animosity had been eclipsed by this happy day. The meal went without a hitch, as did the speeches. Jimmy said all the right things about his new wife looking lovely, and Ben had the room in his hand as he told jokes from their childhood. We were given a break in the timetable for the band to set up and the evening guests to arrive. This meant that everyone went to grab a few more drinks or went out to smoke.
‘How are you doing, hun?’ I sidled up to Cara, who was sitting on a high stool at one end of the bar.
‘It’s all crap,’ she exclaimed a little too loudly, considering the looks she received from Jimmy’s parents nearby.
‘Shh,’ I hissed at her.
‘What?’ She turned around to face me, swaying on her diamanté heels. God, she was still half-cut. Either that or she’d topped up her hangover with the hair of the dog. ‘I thought you’d have loved this. Being proved right.’
I jolted back slightly. ‘What? What do you mean “proved right”?’
‘About marriages being a sham. About it all being pointless.’ She was slurring her words by now. ‘You said that no one can make a promise that they’ll be able to keep for the next fifty-odd years. And you’re right.’
‘Cara, I never said that.’ I felt my cheeks heat up as I denied the allegation. I would have remembered this, surely.
‘Well, whatever, either way you’re right. Weddings suck.’ She pouted.
‘Come on now, you know that’s not true. Look at how your and Shelley’s hard work has paid off! Everyone is loving it.’ She ignored me and muttered something under her breath. ‘I know it’s hard for you, but you have to see that it will soon get better.’
She glanced up at me under her false lashes and bobbed her head gently. ‘I know. I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay okay. But I’ll be fine.’
I didn’t get it. Here was this stunning woman with a great career, amazing apartment; apart from being a little high-maintenance, she should still have men flocking. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, why did you tell everyone that you were single and loving it?’
Cara sighed. ‘I couldn’t say that I was seeing that guy.’
‘Why? Oh God, he’s not related to you is he?’
She laughed for the first time today. ‘No! Eurgh! He was just a guy I met at the gym, of no relation to us at all. I just meant that I couldn’t tell anyone as it was complicated.’
‘Complicated?’
Cara sighed. ‘Shelley would go mad if I told her I’d been with a married man.’
‘He was married!’ I gasped.
‘Sshh.’ It was her turn to hiss at me to keep my voice down.
‘Wait – so the woman you walked in on him with …’
‘That was his wife. He’s gone back to her.’ She sniffed and tried to pull herself together, flashing a megawatt smile at the young barman before turning her attention back to my shocked expression. ‘What does it matter now anyway?’ She brushed a strand of hair from her face and glanced over her shoulder at the happy couple dancing in the centre of a busy dance floor. ‘I mean, both you and Shelley have got it made.’ She nodded at Ben, who was laughing over in the corner with two men in dark blue suits. ‘In fact, you probably don’t know how lucky you are.’
I realised then that it had all been an act. She didn’t have her life together as I’d thought she did. She was desperate for her happy-ever-after ending like we all were.
‘That’s the reason I don’t want Shell and Jim to move out. I hate living in that huge place by myself. I hate being the last singleton on the shelf. I hate that every time people mention fucking weddings and children they give me this patronising sympathetic look.’ She tilted her head to one side and moved her mouth into a sad smile, to demonstrate. ‘I may be living in one of the best cities in the world, but that doesn’t mean meeting men is any easier. All the good ones are married, or in long-term relationships. The ones left are either too young and immature, thinking that dick pics is the way to charm a woman, or that romance means “Netflix and Chill”. I’m scared of dying alone and being that straggly-haired old lady who pushes battered shopping trolleys down the street with junk piled inside, whilst waving a bell or singing some weird, out-of-tune song.’
‘At least you’d be pushing a trolley full of nice designer things.’
She laughed weakly. ‘Yeah, but it would be so good to share this all with someone – not pushing trolleys down busy streets cackling, together; I mean, sharing my life with someone.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be planning your own big white wedding sooner rather than later.’
She gawped at me. ‘What, me do all this? Pfft, no thanks. The stress, the family politics, not to mention the pressure on every single thing being perfect or else your whole day, sorry your whole marriage, will be doomed from the start.’ She shook her head. ‘I wanted to help Shelley because I guess I realised that it was my only chance to be a part of this bonkers world of weddings.’
I shook my head in disbelief. She’d seemed so organised and full of knowledge of the wedding world that I’d expected this to be the test run for her own spectacular day.
‘If it were me I’d elope with my other half.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘What? You?’
Cara nodded. ‘Why not? It’s so romantic, just you and him running off to tie the knot in a ceremony full of secrecy and intimacy.’
At that moment, the DJ played a classic Jackson 5/Stevie Wonder mega-mix. Cara groaned. ‘See what I mean? Why spend thousands of pounds and have a bloke like him ruin it by playing shite like that?’
I laughed. ‘Maybe so, but come on, you. Let’s dance anyway. You never know, the man of your dreams may be the bloke playing this shite.’ We peered around past the happy moving bodies filling the dance floor. The DJ was at least eighty years old and had a cowboy hat and long stringy grey goatie. ‘Oh, well, maybe not.’
Cara laughed. ‘I wanted to speak to you actually.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘I hate myself for being weak and always running back to this guy. I know I was a little grouchy at the start of our trip, but that was because he was playing his usual games with me.’ She let out a deep sigh; it was still raw. ‘I actually loved that small taste of travel and it’s made me want to push myself even more.’
I tried not to gawp at her in shock. I thought she was hating every minute of our low-cost basic backpacking trip.
‘You work in travel, don’t you?’
I tried to find my tongue. ‘Yep, yes, I have a travel business.’
She scrunched up her face a little. ‘See, I didn’t want to join a tour group, too restrictive with dates and a set route. I was thinking of doing something a little freer.’
‘Solo travel?’
‘I’m not sure, that sounds pretty scary. I was thinking more of a dating trip? You know, around the world in eighty dates or something.’ She flicked back her hair as one of Jimmy’s mates walked past, giving her the eye. ‘Anyway, I’m just mulling it all over, but I wanted to see if you had any ideas.’
If I hadn’t been holding on to the bar, I would have fallen over in shock. ‘Erm, I’ll have a think.’
‘Come on,’ she continued, ‘you can think and dance. Let’s show these guests how to really get the party started!’