Weddings and Other Things I Hate Read online

  “Mum, he has two grown daughters, still living at home. He’s seen the laundry, he knows we wear bras.”

  “Can we all just stop talking about undergarments at dinner,” interrupts Dad.

  “See, what you’ve done? All this bra talk and you’ve made those poor men turn bright red,” adds Mum.

  I excuse myself from the table and go to my room so I can take off the aforementioned bra and lather myself in aloe vera as best I can.

  The itching and burning of my back has been driving me crazy all day, but Thea swears that a heavy layer of aloe vera on my back, all night, will sort it out properly.

  I don’t care what I need to put on it, as long as I can get some sleep.

  I call Siobhan to help me with the parts I can’t reach and in return I will answer any and all questions about the hen party in the time it takes for her to do it.

  I hold a towel at my chest, to preserve my modesty and wince every time she applies more.

  “There,” she says. “You’re done. Now, lie on your front for a bit to let it soak into the skin.”

  She leaves me alone and I search for a book to read. While I lie on the bed, my phone rings, it’s Helen, on her break from work.

  “You’ll be disappointed that you didn’t video call,” I say.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because your lobster girlfriend is lathered up and looking sweaty. Christ, this stuff stinks.”

  “As tempting as you make that sound, I can’t risk anyone coming in and seeing your white bits, you’d give these poor old dolls a heart attack. You can send me a picture though. Get some side boob action going, while you’re at it,” she says with a laugh.

  “Could you sound more like a creep?” I ask.

  “I could be rubbing my knees as I spoke? Maybe I am… I’m kidding! I love you, Jane, but you’re not one for sending risqué photos and that’s ok. You’re great, just the way you are; white patches and all.”

  She ends the call when her break finishes and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m still topless and my skin glistens with the lotion. I remove the towel and start to change the position of my body into a more flattering pose.

  “She thinks she knows me so well,” I mutter.

  I turn on the camera of my phone and snap a picture of my reflection. I try to sport a sultry look but it comes across less ‘sexy pout’, more ‘trapped wind’.

  I click on the arrow to send the picture and add the caption: ‘How you like me now?’

  I scroll down to find Helen’s name to send it but a tap at my bedroom door makes jump and click the wrong name. I drop the phone in a panic and scramble around to find the towel to cover myself up, just as I hear the ‘message sent’ sound.

  “Don’t come in,” I shout. “I’m not decent.”

  I hear my dad clear his throat and shout louder than necessary, “Your mum wants to know if you want some ice-cream?”

  “No, I’m ok, Dad.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I start to search through the pile of clothes that are lying on the floor to try and find my phone while Dad keeps repeating the same question about ice-cream.

  “We have strawberry.” he continues.

  “I don’t want any bloody ice cream, please, Dad, just go!”

  “Right, so.”

  I find the phone, peeping out for under the bed and my heart sinks when I see the message icon lit up.

  I click into it and read:

  I like it very much! Henry x

  Chapter 3

  The next day, I sit staring blankly at the screen of my computer in work.

  I decided not to reply to Henry, there was nothing I could have said that didn’t sound like a lame excuse.

  I flirted with the idea of telling him I have a sex addiction, but I didn’t think that would solve anything and I’d be running the risk of it getting back to the company directors.

  I have to talk to him, but it isn’t going to be done in work. This has to be handled carefully, and I know that. As stupid as it sounds, I have to just tell the truth and hope that he believes it.

  I had already accidentally text him in the past, so it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that I could do it again. This time didn’t involve alcohol, though, and now he has a picture of my freaking boobs on his phone.

  What if he starts to show people? What if his wife hasn’t really left and she sees it? What am I going to tell Helen?

  Everything is getting too much, so I decide I need fresh air before I deal with any of it.

  I open the door to leave, and I find myself face-to-face with Henry.

  “I was just about to phone and ask if you could see Henry,” says Tim.

  I can feel myself pale and stand to one side to let him in.

  I close the door behind him and ask him to take a seat.

  “I was going to wait until lunchtime, but I’ve to head out,” he says. “Just thought we could have a chat.”

  “Yes, that’s… best. I don’t think we should talk about it here though. This is a personal matter,” I say, as I try not to let my voice break with nerves.

  I have to get this whole situation under control, and quickly, but I don’t want him to make a scene and for the company gossip mill to go into overdrive.

  “You look so nervous,” he says. “You really don’t need to be. I always knew you had a cracking body, but that picture last night was fantastic.”

  “About the picture,” I begin.

  My office phone rings and I grab it to tell Tim to hold all calls but he cuts me off before I can finish my sentence.

  “Mr Amard is here,” he says.

  “Just finishing up with Henry, I’ll be with him in one minute,” I say, curtly, and hang up the phone.

  “One of the directors is outside; Henry, we’ll talk about this after work. The wine bar on the main street, 5:30pm and be discreet.”

  “Of course, I look forward to it.” he replies with a smirk.

  He leaves the office and an involuntary shudder passes through me just as Mr Amard comes into the room.

  “Jane,” he says, “haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I? I thought Dermot was the new rep now?”

  “He is; Henry just had something he needed to see me about. It was nothing important. How can I help?”

  “I have some good news,” he replies. “I was talking with the others and we’ve been so pleased with your work that we thought we should arrange to have a meeting and see about your future here.”

  “Really?”

  “Why do you sound so surprised? Do you not feel like you’ve done a good job?” he says with a laugh.

  “No,” I reply, hastily. “I mean, yes, I’m enjoying my work and I feel like I’m a real asset.”

  “Good, because we’re thinking of expanding further, which means more workforce, which means more HR,” he says. “I think you could do with expanding this department. You know, to free you up for the big picture stuff and passing on the smaller things to some junior associates. I know this all means more responsibilities but don’t worry, that will be reflected in your pay. What do you think?”

  I can’t believe it. I knew they liked me and I know that I’ve been handling everything that they throw at me, but this recognition was exactly what I need. Especially when I feel like I’m losing control in other parts of my life.

  “I think we should set up that meeting and get the ball rolling,” I say.

  “Great, I’ll get my assistant to organise it with your guy and we’ll put a plan together.”

  I can’t stop smiling when he leaves the room though my mood quickly starts to come down, once I realise I will have to meet Henry to sort out my spectacular boob-mess.

  As soon as it turns 5:15pm, I switch off my monitor and hastily exit the building so no one can stop and ask me about my plans.

  When I reach the wine bar, Henry is already sitting at a table, waiting for me.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asks.r />
  “No, I’m not staying here long.”

  “What’s the hurry? You could let me take control of this… dance, for once.”

  “There’s no dance, Henry. Last night was a mistake.”

  “Don’t get cold feet on me now, Jane. I knew if I let you miss me for long enough, you’d come running back.”

  “Miss you? Running back? No, Henry, you’ve got this all wrong. That picture was meant for ˗”

  “Let me guess? Helen?” he says as he picks up his glass of red wine and takes a sip.

  “Yes, fat thumbs again. I’m so mortified by this and I just have to make sure we’re very clear on where we stand with each other.”

  He takes another sip of his drink and says: “Oh, Jane, I think we know exactly where we stand with each other. You keep trying to fight this chemistry between us and it’s not working. You’re sending me all these signals, then topless photos and now you’re chickening out.”

  “One photo, by accident, and for the love of God, keep your voice down.”

  I glance at the couple who are sitting at a nearby table, that don’t seem to be listening to us.

  “I promise you, this was an honest mistake,” I whisper.

  “If you say so, babe, but I know you and I are meant to get it on. It’s the only way we are going to let this sexual tension between us go. I’m not gonna lie and say I’m looking for a relationship, but I am willing to help you satisfy your urges.”

  I swallow down the bile surge triggered by his last sentence and decide on a different approach.

  “You’re right,” I say.

  “I am? I mean, of course I’m right.”

  “But I’m not interested in a one-night thing.”

  “I could probably stretch to a weekend?”

  “No, I want a baby, Henry. I want your baby.”

  “You want my what?”

  “I think I’ve been subconsciously trying to show you just how desirable I can be as a mate and you’ve called me out on it. That’s the only way I can explain this hot and cold behaviour; but now I’ve finally realised that I am sick of trying to stay away from you. It’s time we stopped fighting this and make a baby. I’m ovulating right now and my car is surprisingly spacious in the back seat. What do you say?”

  His face pales but I hold his gaze. I’m relying on my poker face to see me through this ridiculous situation and have to hope he will fold first.

  “Jane, I’m really flattered but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he says, steadily. “I am just out of a long-term relationship and I’m really not ready to do something so permanent.

  “I’m sure you’d make someone a very desirable, eh, mate.”

  He winces as he says ‘mate’ and it takes all my self-control not to laugh in his face.

  “We are both looking for something very different from this,” he adds.

  I wait for a few seconds so I can pretend to be digesting this devastating blow.

  “I understand,” I say. “I appreciate that you did the right thing and didn’t agree to something you can’t commit to. I just want to make it abundantly clear that your refusal has no bearing on your job or position in the company.”

  “Do you ever switch off? I know that, this is simply about two people in the prime of life discussing carnal desires.”

  It’s no use, I can’t hide the disgust from my face after that last gem.

  First of all, he’s twice my age, so I take great offence that he’s saying we are both in the ‘prime of life’. If anything he is careering towards a midlife crisis Porsche purchase.

  Secondly, even if I do have a preference towards an older man, it wouldn’t be for one who used the phrase ‘carnal desires’.

  “I can see by your face you’re disappointed,” he says, patting my knee. “Are you sure I can’t sort you out?”

  He winks as I remove his hand from my knee and place it back on his own leg.

  “I’m good,” I reply as I stand up to leave. “I’m going to block your number from my phone, you know, just in case I get the urge to try and tempt you again. As a gentleman, I assume you’ve already deleted that picture?”

  He takes out his phone and I watch as he deletes my message and picture from his gallery. I also ask him to show me his deleted items to make sure it wasn’t there either. He is true to his word, the picture is gone.

  I shake his hand before I leave the bar and make my way to the car to get as far away from this man, and this situation, as quickly as possible.

  As soon as I get into the car, I lock the door behind me in case he changes his mind and wants to see how spacious my vehicle is.

  I pick up my phone to call Helen and tell her about the whole debacle and notice that there are several missed calls from home.

  I ring back but there is no answer. I try Mum’s phone, then Siobhan’s but there’s still no one picking up.

  As a last resort, I try Dad, but I already know this is futile. Despite having a mobile, he uses it to check the weather and never answers when we call.

  I turn on the engine and I’m about to take off when my phone buzzes with a call from Lucas.

  “Hey, what’s going on there?” I ask, poorly disguising the panic from my voice.

  “I think you should get home, Jane.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Ernie, he’s not looking too great. Your mum took him to the vet, but they’re not back yet.”

  “I’ll head there now.”

  I hang up the phone and speed through the city, towards Kilkin so I can be with Ernie when he needs me.

  I try not to think of the possibility that I’m heading towards bad news, but he is sixteen years old and I’m not naive. Although he always has a bout of energy for me when I get home, Mum says that it’s the only time of day she ever sees him awake.

  The vet’s office is in the centre of town and rarely stays open this late unless someone calls the emergency line. That in itself, should be enough to tell me that things are bleak.

  I pull up outside and run into the office to get answers. I find Siobhan and my mum sitting on the chairs in the waiting room.

  I can see that Siobhan has been crying and Mum is holding back tears.

  “What’s happened?” I ask.

  “He won’t do,” says Mum.

  “He won’t do what? Go to the toilet?”

  “No love, he won’t make it. Your dad has been watching him these last couple of weeks and he’s been getting awful slow. Then today he’s been whimpering and barely able to walk, so we took him down here. The vet said it’s cancer, spread all over. The poor thing has been suffering and we didn’t even know. The kindest thing we can do is put him to sleep.”

  “What? Like, not even try operating or treatment? Just kill him?” I say, barely holding back my anger at my family’s choice of action.

  “We asked that, love, we really did, but it’s too extensive and he’d never make it out of the operation alive. His organs are already starting to shut down,” she replies.

  “But he was fine,” I say in disbelief. “Sure, he was slow but he’s old. Dad’s old and slower, but we don’t just decide to put him down.”

  “Jane!” shouts Siobhan. “I know you’re upset but you have to believe us when we tell you that this is for the best. We’re not just flippantly ending Ernie’s life. He’s our dog too. Besides, he clearly isn’t fine. The vet told us that dogs can withstand eight times more pain than humans before they let it show. He’s been bad for a lot longer than just today, it’s just happens to be today that he’s reached his limit.”

  I sit down on the chair beside them and start to cry.

  “Where is he now?” I ask.

  “They’re getting him comfortable on the table and then we can all go in and be with him so he doesn’t have to be on his own,” Siobhan answers.

  I take comfort in the fact that I will be able to see him one last time, and he won’t have to be worried about being with the vet on his own. />
  “He doesn’t like to be in the vets by himself,” I continue. “He cries. Remember when he was getting his vaccinations? He yelped the place down.”

  “They gave him something for the pain, he’s probably having a little doze while he’s waiting for us,” says Mum, reassuringly.

  A nurse appears and calls us behind the counter; she leads us into a different room where Ernie is lying on a table. He is lying still but I can see his chest rising and falling, ever so slightly.

  The three of us gather around him while the vet explains what is going to happen. I don’t pay much attention to the technicalities of it all, because it doesn’t matter.

  At the end of the day, it is an injection that will stop his suffering and all I plan on doing is patting my friend’s belly until he’s gone.

  Ernie opens his eyes slightly, and his tail wags a little when he sees my face but he’s soon asleep again. I continue to watch his breathing while they administer the injection and I hold back tears as his breaths get shallower and less frequent.

  I can hear Siobhan and Mum cry, but I refuse to look at them in case they set me off. I have to be strong; I don’t want Ernie’s last remaining minutes to be plagued with worry that his family are distressed.

  He won’t like that. He is our fierce protector and was my constant companion during the summer holidays from school. When I can’t stand to be around anyone or anything human, Ernie is the only one I want near me. His comforting presence was once the only draw for me to return to Kilkin.

  And at that moment I am even more grateful that I’ve repaired things with my family and moved back here. If I had still been in Belfast, I would have missed his final moments and would have failed my old friend.

  The vet has left, to give us some privacy but returns a half hour later to check on Ernie.

  “He’s gone,” he says.

  I don’t have to hold my tears back any longer, but at that moment I don’t feel like crying. There is a wall going up inside of me and I want to run out of the office and keep going until I collapse.

  “Have you thought about what you would like done with the body?” asks the vet. “Most people opt for cremation.”

  “What do you think, Jane?” asks Mum.