Authors: Jenny Colgan
âWhat seems fine to you?' said Alex, coming in to
get some more wine. He lost his grip on the doorway temporarily, but caught it again.
âEhm, I always refer to my lasagnes as he's. Makes them, er, rise better.'
Alex stared hard at the blackened mass before him. âLooks like fucking terminal cancer to me.'
âYes, well, never mind about that. Go back in and sit down.'
Grabbing another bottle, he stumbled back into the living room, where I heard a whoop of laughter from Fran and Mookie. Must have been telling them about my lasagne, the bastard.
I stood back and prodded my handiwork with a knife.
âMaybe if I just feed Nash and get some pizza in for everyone else â¦'
âThat would be great,' said Angus sweetly.
âI spent all day making this lasagne.'
âI know.'
âI put nutmeg in it and everything.'
âDon't worry.'
I walked back into the living room and cleared my throat. Fraser was still staring unhappily at his glass of wine, and downing it at an extraordinary rate, while Nash patted him companionably on the arm. Alex had moved to sit between Mookie and Fran, who were laughing around him like a couple of starlets, and he was interrogating Linda, whose face was a dreadful colour.
âCome on, pet,' he was insisting, âjust tell us who it is.'
Linda's face looked like it might explode.
âYes, come on, do tell us,' encouraged Mookie. Everyone seemed to have forgotten Linda's name.
Finally, she gritted her teeth. âRalph Fiennes,' she said, almost inaudibly.
Fran waved her glass in the air. âNo, Linda, it's got to be someone embarrassing as opposed to someone rich and handsome and gorgeous and lovely and â¦'
âFour foot nine,' finished Alex snidely.
Linda looked up at him, eyes burning.
âYou'd never understand!' she shouted. I'd never heard her shout. âNone of you could ever understand what he means to me!' And she stomped off to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
There was a silence.
âTwo down,' said Alex, not very helpfully.
âWould you like me to go and see to her?' Mookie offered gravely.
âThanks,' I said, âbut, well â¦'
âI'll go,' said Angus.
I turned round gratefully. âWould you?'
He nodded. âThat means I'm not here when you tell them about the lasagne.'
âWhat about the lasagne?' said Nash, stricken.
âAh.'
Half an hour later, everything was much improved. The pizzas had arrived and even Nash had had enough, although he insisted on picking every piece of vegetable matter off them first. Linda had gone to sleep, and
Angus assured us she was OK. Well, not suicidal. We'd cleared the stupid, mismatched tables out of the room and the seven of us sat bunched around the sofa or kicking our heels on the floor, trying not to knock over the candles, which had stayed with us. Van Morrison was playing, but very, very quietly.
âYou haven't gone,' said Alex to Fran.
âOh, go away, I don't want to go.'
He started poking her in the side.
âYou've got to! Forfeit, remember?'
Fran rolled over and lay on her stomach.
âI'm refusing to answer. I'll take the forfeit.'
âWooo,' we said. âForfeit! Forfeit!'
âWhat, though?'
Alex grinned. âYou could show us your tits.'
I kicked him. âDon't be disgusting.'
Fran sighed. âYes, and everyone's seen them.'
âI haven't!' said Mookie.
Everyone looked at her.
âLater,' said Fran.
Angus was leaning against the sofa.
âI know what you could do, Francesca,' he said softly.
The room turned to listen to him.
âYou're an actress. Why don't you do some acting for us? Do a piece. What are you auditioning for at the moment?'
There was a chorus of âgood idea'. Fran looked embarrassed but shrugged.
âI'm auditioning for
Much Ado
,' she said. âTo tour schools with. I'm trying out for Beatrice.'
âOK, give us a bit of that then.'
We shifted around to give her some room. For about a second she pretended not to be absolutely thrilled to be asked, then just got on with it.
âBeatrice has just been asked if she's going to get married,' she said, then began:
âNot till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust?'
âValiant dust?' whispered Alex loudly. âWoo ⦠scary.'
âShhh,' I said.
â⦠to make
an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.'
She was extremely good; her voice was strong, and the words rang out with perfect clarity.
âThe fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every thing and so dance out the answer.'
âNot another man-hater,' said Alex. Truly he was
extremely drunk, and I pinched him hard on the thigh.
â⦠For, hear me, Hero:
wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque pace faster and faster, till he sink into his
grave.'
Everyone clapped; then suddenly Fraser leaned forward and clasped his head.
âGod!' he said. âIt's just so much! It's just such a huge thing to do!'
We fussed around him and told him not to worry.
âI'm not sure I want to dance the boring dances,' he sighed, holding his glass. âNot yet.'
âYou're right,' said Angus. âListen to your instinct. Don't do it. In fact, let's take a vote on it. Hands up all those who think Fraser shouldn't get married.'
âPlease, don't do this, guys,' Fraser said, but too late. Angus's hand was already in the air, as was Fran's. Alex put his up, âbut only because all marriage is a bunch of crap.' As he was sitting on the floor, he lost his balance and tipped over backwards, then decided not to get up again. Once we'd ascertained he hadn't set his hair on fire, we left him there. âI'll second that,'
said Nash. Mookie, once she'd realized that everyone else had, put her own hand up tentatively.
Fraser looked straight at me. âWhat about you, Mel? Are you conscientiously objecting? Has some doubt crept into your mind after my fiancée's delightful behaviour this evening?'
I realized I'd forgotten to put my own hand up.
âOh, no, I, ehm, got momentarily distracted.'
âBut you're still putting your hand up?'
I put my hand up and stared back at him resolutely.
âYes. Definitely.'
âJust checking.'
âAre you putting yours up?' said Angus to Fraser.
Fraser laughed hollowly. âWhat, you mean I'm allowed to have an opinion after you lot?'
âYeah, go on, Fraser, what's your vote?' said Fran.
âTell me what he does,' said Alex.
Fraser looked at his glass and laughed. âI don't think I have a vote.'
âOf course you do,' said Angus. âMake your own fucking decisions, man.'
Fraser got to his feet, wobbling. âAgainst the might of the wedding industry, Pyrford Parish Church, Earthworks flower company,
Hello!
magazine, the PR industry, Charlotte Coleman Bridal Designs, Gieves & Hawkes the tailors, Sloane Caterers Inc, Asprey's, Moët & Chandon, Heal's furniture shops, the Phillipses, the McConnalds, and my great auntie Margaret, who is eighty-two and flying in from Australia,' he declaimed dramatically, âI am afraid I have no vote,' he bowed from the waist. âNo vote at all.'
We all looked at him for a bit.
âThat,' he said, âwould have been a great moment to depart. If I wanted to go, and not sit here and drink my little brother's whisky. As long as you promise to shut up about the fucking wedding.'
And so it was only once he'd gone to the loo that Mookie could come out with her idea about the bomb.
Alex sat bolt upright when he heard about the bomb.
âWhaaa â¦' he coughed. âWhat bomb.'
Mookie was blushing, as usual, at being the centre of attention.
âWell, rally, I suppose, it was an awful prank at school.'
âWhat was?' Alex demanded.
âWhen we wanted to ride our ponies and not go to assembly.'
âOh God, yes, we did that too, didn't we, Mel?' I shot Fran a Woking look.
âAnyway, we set off all these smoke bombs â oh, the mess of it, rally â and that set off the fire alarms, and by the time they'd sorted everything out it was far too late to do anything at all. And of course with weddings, they're one after another, rally, aren't they? It's like Heathrow. If you miss your slot, you're there for ever.'
We stared at each other, stunned by the criminal genius.
âNash,' said Angus, taking command, âgo distract Fraser.'
âHey, I'm the best man, ken. If I'm going to choke to death, I want to hear about it, OK?'
âFair enough. Alex, could you do it?'
âWha', walk into a toilet with your brother? He'll think I'm a fuggin' botty burglar.'
âGo on, Alex,' I said. âYou don't care anyway. Just distract him. Do a tap dance or something.'
âTap dance. Yeah. Right. Tap dance.' He staggered to his feet. âFucking tap dance.'
Next thing we heard was the bathroom door opening and the sound of copious vomiting. Fraser's voice could be heard, enquiring as to whether he was all right.
âWhat a stroke of genius,' said Angus.
âWhat a fucking piss-head, more like,' I said, crossly.
âOK,' said Angus. âThis is a brilliant plan.'
âLike the last brilliant plan?' I added.
âBut have we got the balls to carry it out?' Angus continued.
We looked at each other. Having come up with the idea, Mookie had retreated again and was staring at the floor.
Noticing our silence, Angus continued:
âWhere do you get the bombs, Mookie?'
âEhm, well, one of my cousins, he's pretty high up in the Met.'
âYou're joking â we'd steal them off the police?'
âNot stealing, rally â he keeps a few around his house.'
Nash whistled through his teeth.
âThen we'd need a couple of people to check the fire
alarm â and a couple of people to make sure all the grannies get out and stuff.'
âMaybe we could keep the grannies out of the church all together?' someone said.
âHang on!' I said. âWhat if there's a mass stampede and hundreds of people are run over and killed? What if Amanda has a hysterical fit and commits suicide? What if Fraser never speaks to any of us again? What if you all get arrested?' God, I nearly wished I was going.
âIt could be a sign,' said Angus. âA beacon across the land to those in danger of wedlock.'
âOh no! Dangerous David Koresh visionary thing!' I said, getting agitated. Off stage, the vomiting seemed to be quieting down. I hoped he wasn't going to use my toothbrush.
âFor people to think more carefully about why they're getting married and who to. We'll only set off a little one. We'll make sure nobody panics. Then we'll run for it. Think of it in the slightly naughty rather than the deranged criminal stakes.'
âWell, I'm up for it,' said Fran.
âOf course you're up for it: it's got an element of chaos!' I said.
âHuh! Well, if that's what you think â¦'
âI know where to place the bombs for, you know ⦠well, the best places for them to go off, rally,' said Mookie shyly.
âGreat, great,' said Angus. âAnd Nash, you'll be at the front, so you're on granny duty. Fraser will help you.'
âI doubt this will sound so good when we wake up in the morning,' I said sourly.
âAnd I'll do the fire alarms.'
âAs well as being the criminal master mind,' I said. âThis is a terrible idea.'
âWe don't really need you,' said Fran.