Weddings and Other Things I Hate Read online

  Weddings

  and Other

  Things

  I Hate

  Elizabeth McGivern

  First published by Pernickety Publishing in 2020

  Copyright © 2020 Elizabeth McGivern

  The moral right of Elizabeth McGivern to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the copyright, designs and patents act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 1

  “Why didn’t you put suncream on before we left?” asks Helen.

  “It didn’t look that hot out. I thought I’d be ok,” I answer, wincing in pain at the cool feeling of aftersun on my shoulders.

  “Jane, if you stand too close to a low-watt light bulb you get burnt.”

  “Ha, bloody, ha! Just get the cream on so I can stop feeling like I’m about to spontaneously combust… please?”

  Helen dutifully applies the lotion and I feel her hand shudder as she tries to hold in laughter.

  “Are you laughing, back there?” I ask.

  “No,” she replies, but the crack in her voice betrays her.

  “Get off, I’ll do it myself.”

  Turning around, I snatch the lotion off her and stomp into the bathroom.

  It doesn’t take long for me to regret this, because I can’t reach the sorest parts of my back but I don’t want to go back out with my tail between my legs.

  I sit at the edge of the bath and sulk. It’s the only thing I can do effectively in my present state.

  I hear a gentle tap at the door and Helen pops her head into the room. She’s sporting her best attempt at a serious face and it makes me laugh.

  “Oh, so you can laugh, but I can’t?” she asks.

  “I’m the injured party; I can do what I like.”

  She walks over to the bath and squats in front of me.

  “Jane, my darling lobster, can you please let me finish putting this cream on your back so you don’t blister?” she asks, sweetly.

  “Lobster is not a term of endearment. Even if you say it in a nice voice.”

  “It is when you look like you’ve spent an hour trapped under a sunbed.”

  I stand up and pull her to her feet. I hand her back the aftersun and turn so my back is facing her.

  “Do your job, wench.”

  Each drop of the cold lotion is blissful agony and I’m not one of those people who can grin and bear it. By the end, I’m sure that I need an award for amateur dramatics and brace myself for Helen’s relentless ribbing.

  She stays surprisingly quiet and leaves me to get dressed as she waits for me out on the balcony.

  It’s our last evening in Rome and despite the disastrous start to our trip, I’m sad that we’d soon be heading home and leaving our holiday bubble behind.

  The trouble all started when we were in the taxi on our way to the hotel from the airport. The local taxi-man didn’t recognise the address we’d given him and as Helen tried to speak to him in broken Italian, I still had both of our passports in my hands, from going through airport security, and decided to put them both in my bag for safe-keeping.

  Before I did, I checked the photo page at the back of mine, and as I took in the information my heart sank.

  I noticed the date. My passport was due to expire in two days.

  I had spent the last two months badgering Helen to make sure her passport was valid, making sure she was organised and ready for the trip. I loved her, but she could be so flaky, at times. Only this time, it was I who was the flake.

  I knew that if she found out I had spent all that time lecturing her on her disorganisation, while my passport was due to run out while we were here, I’d never hear the end of it.

  I hid them in my bag and decided that I would deal with it when we were back at the hotel. How, I had no idea, but that was a fight for another moment, for now, I had to focus on making sure we got to where we were supposed to be going.

  When we eventually arrived at the hotel, we found that the pictures we used to make a decision on where to stay on this holiday had painted our accommodation in a much more favourable light to how it looked in reality.

  “Wow. They really played fast and loose with the word ‘hotel’,” said Helen.

  “It’s barely bigger than the cattle shed at home,” I replied flatly.

  We decided to put our dismay on the back burner after we were warmly greeted by our hostess, who introduced herself as ‘Mama Rosa’. Helen was overjoyed at her friendly demeanour and instantly felt better about where we were staying.

  I was unnerved by her over-zealous introduction but instead of interjecting, decided to stay quiet and let Helen deal with her for the remainder of our stay.

  Mama Rosa wrestled both our bags from us and we followed behind her, as she walked us into the building.

  Helen and Mama chatted between themselves as I covertly looked online for alternative accommodation nearby.

  Over the last three months, Helen had spent her evenings learning conversational Italian. She sounded impressive to me, but the more I watched her interactions with people, the more I realised her words were always met with the same look of confusion.

  We were shown to our first-floor room and it wasn’t as dire as I imagined it would be.

  Mama left us to get settled and as soon as the door closed behind her I turned to let Helen know about a decent-looking hotel, five miles from here.

  “We can’t leave,” she said. “Mama is lovely and this place isn’t that that bad. Look, it even has a balcony.”

  “Everything is orange, I’m getting a migraine.”

  “Stop being so negative. So what if it’s not as nice as we hoped? It’s in a decent location and we’ll only be here to sleep. We’ve got far too much to fit in over the next few days.”

  I shrugged and plopped myself down on the bed.

  “Christ, this feels like we’re sleeping on the floor,” I shouted.

  “You are so melodramatic,” she replied as she lay down beside me. “Actually, you’re right, that’s not great.”

  She stood up again and hunted in her bag for the guide book. We had only just arrived and it was already tattered from the weeks she’d spent thumbing her way through every page and making notes for our itinerary.

  “Hurry up and get changed, we’ve got lots to do,” she said.

  “I was hoping we could have a rest first, we have been travelling for ages.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “What?” I asked, as innocently as I could.

  “This is not one of those ‘laze-around-by-a-pool-in-between-sex’ holidays, it’s a ‘we’re-seeing-absolutely-everything-that-we-possibly-can’ holiday. That’s why I bought you those shoes.”

  I looked at my feet and sighed at my ugly present. They were ‘proper’ walking shoes, according to Helen. I couldn’t attest to the validity of her claim, but I could say with complete confidence that they were hideous.

  “Those shoes are going to be heavenly for your feet,�
�� she continued. “You’re going to thank me for them, when we get back here tonight and you’re not in agony with blisters.”

  I thought about bringing up the passport problem now, but I decided that it might be more bearable if she had some authentic Italian wine in her system. I figured that would ease the blow before I had to explain that I would probably need to spend one of our days in an Irish embassy to sort out the issue, instead of sight-seeing as planned.

  We left the hotel within the hour in search of our first tourist destination: the Trevi Fountain. I waited outside the hotel, while Helen spoke to Mama for directions. I took the opportunity to text Mum and let her know I hadn’t been murdered. Yet.

  I had already texted her when we landed, but I knew that wasn’t going to be enough communication for her to feel like I was safe.

  “Ok,” said Helen as she walked up beside me. “We have to get the number seventeen bus for three stops and then we should be within walking distance of the general area of the fountain.”

  I gave her a salute and started to follow her towards the bus stop. As much as I liked to claim she was disorganised, I had been really impressed with how much research she’d done and how confident she was in directing us around a foreign city.

  It didn’t take long for a bus to arrive and we were soon on our way.

  “I’m so pleased that you trust me to get us there,” she said. “I’m delighted that your control-freak tendencies are taking a holiday too.”

  “Harsh,” I said with a laugh. “I’m just happy to be herded wherever we need to go. I’m hoping that means that when I drink too much wine, you’ll be sensible enough to get us back to the hotel with zero help from me.”

  She rolled her eyes but her smile remained. I loved looking out the window as we sped along towards our destination, and wondered if I would ever be brave enough to move to a completely new country and start over. I felt like Helen would be only too happy to jump into an adventure like that, but I was very much stuck in my ways.

  We’ve been dating for eight months, and the long-distance pains of our relationship are a nightmare. This summer had been perfect, though. She was finished her course and hadn’t started her nursing degree at university in Dublin. I had hoped that she would consider doing one in Cork, but her flat was in Dublin and she’d already secured a part-time job at a nursing home to help pay her way through university.

  Unfortunately, these stolen moments were the way things have to be – at least until she graduates, or I give up on family farm life in Cork and make the move to Dublin. This isn’t something I’ve seriously considered mind you, simply because I love my job and I am settled in Cork.

  I still live with my parents, as well as my sister, Siobhan and her fiancé Lucas. However, this will all change soon because Siobhan and Lucas are building their own house, on land a thirty second walk away from the family farm in Kilkin, and are due to be married soon. I will miss them when they move out, but I comfort myself with the fact that there will be less competition for the bathroom in the morning.

  “This is our stop,” said Helen.

  We got off the bus and stepped onto a busy street. I didn’t want to sound like I doubted her directions, but I had a feeling that this wasn’t where we were supposed to be. A quick look at Helen’s face, told me she thought the same.

  “This doesn’t look right,” she said.

  We looked around and found that we had got off next to a busy market with stalls in every direction but there wasn’t a fountain in sight.

  “We can’t be that far,” she continued. “It’s bound to be down one of these side-streets, it’s not going to be in the middle of a market.”

  I kept a smile planted firmly on my face and stopped myself from suggesting we look it up on the maps on our phones. Helen was adamant that we didn’t ‘cheat’ and rely on our overly used technology for our trip. She had already lectured me that people were too dependent on technology and we should be ‘authentic’ travellers.

  At the time, I had agreed, but now as I stood in the middle of a market when we were supposed to be looking at a fountain, I just wanted to get where we needed to go without having to walk unnecessary miles, in the wrong direction.

  “Why don’t I quickly check the map on the phone? It doesn’t mean I don’t completely trust your sense of direction, I just think it’s really ridiculous not to use all the tools at our disposal,” I said.

  “Fine, but only because I’m boiling and hungry, not because I don’t think I could figure this out eventually.”

  “Of course,” I soothed. “Ok, according to my phone we’re about a twenty two minute walk away.”

  “What? That can’t be right? How could we be that far away?”

  “I’ve no idea, but I can see a window with a pizza slice and wine glass painted on it. I suggest we get something to eat and drink in there first and then head off.”

  “Deal.”

  Within minutes, we were sitting at a wobbly table with a red plastic table cloth. Our server was quick with the carafe of white wine and a large slice of margarita pizza for each of us.

  I didn’t know if I was just so hungry from travelling and the heat, but it was the nicest meal I’d ever had. We ordered two more slices of pizza while Helen studied the map again to figure out where we were.

  “I have to tell you something,” I said.

  “Ok,” she replied without looking up from the map.

  “You know the way you love me and I love you and we’re in a nice respectful partnership that doesn’t hold mistakes against each other? And we certainly don’t lecture one another for silly oversights?”

  “No, but go on.”

  “My passport expires, the day after tomorrow,” I blurted out and picked up my glass to take a large gulp of wine.

  Helen let the map drop to the table and leaned back in her seat.

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No, I just assumed I had another year left in it. It was a… miscalculation.”

  “We’re going to be stranded in Italy, because you were too busy lecturing me about being irresponsible, to check if your own passport was in date? Did they not say anything to you in airport security when we landed?”

  “No, I guess they didn’t notice. I think I’ll have to go find the Irish embassy and see if I can get an emergency one.”

  “God knows how long that’s going to take! It could take the whole bloody trip,” she said, looking more exasperated by the second.

  “Or it could take an hour. We don’t know.”

  We both sipped at our wine and let the silence stretch awkwardly between us.

  Helen finished the last of her drink and stood up to leave the café.

  “If we’re going to end up wasting precious time trying to sort out your bloody passport then I’m not wasting another second in this dive,” she announced.

  “Will you be quiet,” I hissed. “Don’t take your bad mood out on these people; besides it’s not so bad and the wine is lush.”

  “The only lush around here is you, now get your bag and let’s find this bloody fountain.”

  I reluctantly left the last of my food and drink behind as I followed my grumpy girlfriend into the unknown. I kept my phone out and tried to give her advice on where to turn but she refused to listen and kept looking at her guide book with a tiny map inside.

  “Helen,” I called as she marched ahead. “Can you stop being so stubborn and follow these directions?”

  She stopped in her tracks and turned to face me.

  “Why are you so angry? It’s not like I’ve ruined the entire holiday. This whole passport thing will probably get fixed in a few seconds and we’ll laugh about this in years to come,” I continued.

  I reached out my hand and beckoned her to come back and walk with me. After a beat, she smiled and came back to stand beside me.

  “I need this holiday to be perfect, Jane,” she said.

  “What do you mean? Everything is fine.”
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  “I didn’t say ‘fine’, I said ‘perfect’.”

  I started to laugh; I didn’t have any idea what she was getting herself so worked up about.

  “It’s not funny, Jane,” she replied. “The first holiday as a couple can make or break people and I want everything to go to plan.”

  “Helen, would you quit? I love you, we’re in freaking Rome and we’ve just had the nicest pizza and wine of our lives. Things are fantastic and they’re going to get even better, once we find one of the hundred things you’ve planned out for us. Everything is going to be brilliant, because you’re brilliant, ok?”

  I gave her a reassuring peck on the lips and she took a deep breath to relax herself.

  “Give me the damn phone, I’m sick of this tiny map,” she said.

  As we walked down the cobbled streets and soaked up the beauty that surrounded us, we were finally rewarded when we turned a narrow corner and came face-to-face with the Trevi Fountain. I stopped in my tracks when I first saw it. I knew it was going to be beautiful, but I didn’t expect a fountain to take my breath away.

  Helen tugged at my hand and pulled me closer to the steps that led down to the fountain’s edge. Tourists from all over the world vied to get a good selfie with it in the background, but I was still awe struck.

  “Are you ok?” asked Helen.

  “It’s… it’s beautiful,” I said.

  “No shit,” she replied. “Come on, let’s throw our coins in so we’ll come back.”

  “What?”

  “You throw the coin over your shoulder, into the water and that way you know you’re going to come back some day.”

  I smiled at her and did as I was told but as soon as my purse came out I was pounced upon, by pushy rose sellers who wanted me to buy a flower for Helen.

  I politely refused a couple of times, before I gave up and bought one to present to my laughing girlfriend. We stood with our back to the water and counted to three together before we both threw our coins into the water.

  “Were we meant to make a wish?” I asked.

  “No need, I have a feeling we’re going to make our own wishes come true.”