Authors: Kirsty Greenwood
She takes another swig of wine, cursing as some of it dribbles down her chin and rolls down in between her massively pushed up cleavage.
“
Big dangly balls!
”
she cries, dabbing the wine from her breasts with a tissue. Olly eyes her furtively from behind the magazine.
Outside a car pips its horn. Three short bursts and then a longer one.
“
That’s Bull! My beloved!
”
Dionne slides her feet into some impossibly high heeled shiny patent boots and pats her hair.
“
Right. I’m off. Jean-Paul Gaultier’s upstairs somewhere. He’s been fed. Make sure you let him out for a poo and
a
wee, otherwise he’ll
just shit and piss everywhere.
”
She smiles again at Olly.
“
Bye Olly, sweet. And thanks for stepping in.
”
Olly smiles back.
“
My pleasure. Enjoy your Madras. Jean-Paul Gaultier will be well looked after.
”
He turns back to his magazine, not once making eye contact with me.
I follow Dionne through the hall to the front door, and watch as she races to Bull’s car - a yellow BMW with blacked out windows - and slides in. I try to catch a glimpse of him but to no avail, Dionne is in the way. As the car is screeching out of the road she winds down the window and yells
“
I’ll probably be really late!
”
Of course.
I wave her away and go back inside.
Walking back through the hall and into Dionne’s small but tidy kitchen, I choose a bottle of white from the fridge, grab two glasses and join Olly in Dionne's’ boudoir inspired living room.
I pour out two glasses, shut Lady Gaga off the hi-fi and plop down onto the leopard print sofa opposite him.
“
No questions,
”
I say first.
“
Please, Olly, don’t ask me any questions because I don’t want to answer any more.
”
Olly looks up from the magazine, expression nonchalant.
“
Go on then.
”
I take a deep breath and attempt to explain.
I tell him the story so far, obviously leaving out the bit about Riley and the whole crazy finger sucking, near kiss situation. When I’m finished, I take a slug of wine and tense up, waiting for him to get mad at me again. Even to my own ears, it sounds like the most ridiculous story ever invented.
And I know it’s true
!
Olly doesn’t get angry though. He comes over to the sofa and sinks down beside me. Brushing my hair from my face, he kisses me tenderly on the head.
“
Let me help you,
”
he says, concern clouding his perfect features.
Emotion sweeps through my body. Happiness, guilt, thankfulness? What a sweetheart. Offering to help after I said those awful things about his stamina and his taste in music. I love him.
“
Thank you.
”
I look up into his earnest blue eyes.
“
It’s been a really odd couple of days.
”
“
I love you, Nat. I just want you to be okay.
”
He squeezes my hand.
“
Excellent. Well, in the absence of Brian, I really need to find another hypnotist; we can
g
oogle it, probably. Where is Dionne’s laptop?
”
I look around the living room.
“
Natty,
”
Olly coos.
“
I meant help you mentally. Emotionally.
”
“
Okaaaaay?
”
I ask, totally confused.
“
I spoke to my parents and they agree that perhaps you should see someone with the capabilities to deal with this. So I’ve made you an appointment with the GP for Monday morning.
”
“
Whaaaat?
”
“
We think…
”
he sighs ever so sadly.
“
I
think you might be…
depressed. The stress of the wedding, not losing weight…
It’s the only way to explain your erratic behaviour. Why you’re making things up about getting hypnotised. It’s such a bizarre excuse. I think maybe you’re in denial.
”
Is he for real? He really does think I’m crazy! A surge of anger zings into my chest. I’ve just spent half an hour explaining it all to him. Telling him exactly what I've been going through the past couple of days. And he thinks I’m depressed about the size of my thighs?
“
Fuck, Olly, I’m not depressed, I’ve been hyp-no-tised. I just told you! I need another hypnotist, not a doctor.
”
Olly jumps back in his seat, eyes wide with shock.
“
Listen to yourself! In all the time I’ve known you, you have never shouted at anyone, let alone cursed in such a way. It’s really unbecoming.
”
“
Unbecoming?
”
I spit
.
“
Sorry -
did we just get a Delorean back to the nineteen-fifties?
”
Olly looks at me as if to say that my retort is exactly what he’s talking about. I will myself to keep calm
-
something I’ve never had a problem doing before, but it’s like the
truth-tell
ing has unlocked a part of me I never even knew existed. An angry, feisty side that, when I think about it, could have been lying dormant for years. Because Brian didn’t change my thoughts and feelings, did he? He just took away my ability to keep them in. It’s an oddly releasing feeling. Like when water freezes in a pipe. Everything expands until the pipe can't take the pressure. And then BOOM! It explodes. Something like that.
I count to ten in my head, waiting for my heart to slow down its furious, indignant pounding, but it’s no use. I’m angry. I know the whole tale of the past two days sounds farfetched, but surely it’s his job to believe me. To trust in me. Is a little out of the ordinary behaviour really
so
out of the ordinary for me? Have I always been this straight?
I take my glass of wine and rebelliously down it in one. Olly draws back and gasps.
“
That’s full alcoholic wine, Nat,
”
he scolds.
“
It’s supposed to be treated with respect. And you tell me there’s nothing wrong! The evidence is right here, clear as day!
”
He inhales sharply and starts gesticulating madly.
“
I shouldn’t even be surprised. I mean, look at your mother. Mental illness runs in the family. You were always going to be susceptible to depression, darling.
”
And with that I do something that I will most probably be ashamed of for the rest of my life. I pick up Olly’s untouched glass of wine from the coffee table, and I throw it in his face.
How dare he? How dare he jump on my mother’s pain, on my past and label me like that. It’s one thing to criticise me, but another to make a comment about my family. Only
I’m
allowed to do that.
I glare at him, watching as he disbelievingly runs his shirt sleeve over his face. The wine drips off his exquisite eyelashes and then rolls sadly off his jaw before plopping onto his chest.
He looks like he’s about to cry.
I immediately feel guilty. What a mean thing to do to a person. He was only trying to help. I should have known that Olly wasn’t the type of person
to believe in anything so left
field as hypnotism. And what he’s saying isn’t entirely wrong. My mother is depressed. Maybe I’m depressed…
Maybe he’s right.
“
I’m so, so sorry,
”
I say taking a step towards him, reaching my hand to his chest. But he steps back, widening the distance between us, an expression of dismay fixed upon his face.
“
Olly,
”
I try, tears filling my eyes.
“
See a doctor. See a…
a hypnotist. Whatever. Just don’t talk to me until you are back to yourself. If you can’t figure out how to do that then…
then I’m calling the wedding off.
”
He strides across the living room to the door. And right before he leaves he spins his head around, his face purple with constrained anger, reaches into his wallet and tugs out a foil wrapper, chucking it onto the floor.
“
And to think I bought these for you!
”
he spits before slamming the door behind him.
I shuffle over and pick up the foil packet. It’s some kind of anaesthetic condom. As I hear his car drive off, Jean-Paul Gaultier trots into the living room, gives a little bark of greeting and proceeds to piddle on my feet.
Email From:
sexyladydionne
To:
nat
t
yb
Cc:
alisonbutterworth
Subject: Re: CHATTERLEY WEDDING CHECKLIST
Auntie Janine has given us a list of her songs. The following are her best vocals. Can you choose two, please?
Up Where We Belong by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes
I’m Not in Love by 10CC
Titanic song by Celine Dionne
Bring it All Back by S Club 7.
Have found some shoes to go with your dress. They are on this website
www.brideshoessparkle4u.net
They are the ones with diamante hearts on the top. Are they too high? You need high shoes to make you look slimmer.
Irene from the corner shop has offered to do the evening buffet at a cut price. I have sorted out the menu. Nobody is coming who is allergic to nuts, are they? Oh well, too late now! Haha. JOKE.
Here is the link to the car we have ordered – it’s amaaaaazeballs
www.fivestarlimousines.com/pinklimo
* I was thinking I might wear a tiara as well. Do you mind? I’ve already bought it.
* Bull is going to be an usher. Don't worry. You'll probably meet him before the big day! I was thinking Jean-Paul Gaultier could be one too, I’ve seen some really cute doggie tuxedos in town.
Don’t worry – everything is under control babe. Just keeping you updated.
Following a quick spell washing and sniffling in Dionne's power shower, I dress myself in one of her robes and spend the next hour simultaneously
g
oogling and sobbing.
I
g
oogle the following.
Hypnotists in Manchester
That weird shaky breath thing you do when you cry
Amazing Brian Fernando
Jon Hamm. Nude.
Toning down orange hue in hair - tips
What to do when you are accidentally hypnotised and upset your fiancé who might then bin you
Is it possible to unhypnotise yourself?
Depression genetic
Some of the internet searches have proved more fruitful than others. For instance there are far more hypnotists in Manchester than you might think. The first three numbers I call don’t pi
ck up, which is understandable -
it being a Saturday night and all. I imagine that they’re all out together. Drinking cocktails and gleefully telling tales about whose minds they’ve messed up recently.
The fourth number I dial picks up after only one ring.
“
Hello, Alice McKee speaking.
”
Her voice is young and professional. I feel a glimmer of hope. As calmly as I can manage I explain my situation to her.
“
And so I need you to hypnotise me into not being hypnotised. If that’s okay?
”
I finish.
“
Oh. No no no,
”
she says in a voice that suggests I just asked her to do a naked samba outside Manchester Town Hall.
“
I’m afraid I cannot help with that.
”
“
But why?
”
I ask, trying to disguise the hiccups that have now appeared, courtesy of all the crying.
“
It just wouldn’t work. Only the person who put you into trance, can take you out of it. That’s the way it is.
”
That can’t be it? She must be able to do something!
“
But can’t you just say some stuff and…
you know, clap me out of it?
”
I whine.
“
It’s ruining everything! Some charlatan has hypnotised me and it’s ruining my life! Come
on…
Alice!
”