The Bridesmaid Pact

‘I’m game if you are,’ Caz said, grinning at Dorrie, never one to miss out on a dare. She and Sarah had barely spoken to each other all afternoon, leaving Dorrie and me to gamely plug in the gaps, but at least they weren’t out and out fighting.

‘Oh, I’m game,’ said Dorrie. ‘You know me. Are you sure you two don’t want to go?’

‘Absolutely,’ we said in unison.

We waved them off to the massive queue and took ourselves off to a Buzz Lightyear ride which consisted of zapping lots of aliens, at which I was rubbish but Sarah proved rather good.

‘How come you got so many?’ I said in surprise. ‘I didn’t have you taped as a computer games nerd.’

‘It’s amazing what you pick up from five-year-olds,’ said Sarah. She has two boys the oldest of whom is obsessed with PlayStation. ‘It also helps that I was imagining all the aliens with Caz’s face on them.’

‘Sarah,’ I protested weakly. ‘Is that fair?’

‘The nerve of her!’ Sarah suddenly said. ‘I can understand why Dorrie asked her. We all know how kind and – well, some might say stupidly forgiving – she is, but Caz didn’t have to say yes did she? She must have known it would be awkward.’

‘More for her than us, maybe,’ I said.

‘Oh come on, Beth, you know what she did to me,’ said Sarah. ‘You might be prepared to forgive and forget, but I don’t find it that easy.’

‘I know, I know,’ I said. ‘And I can’t say I was all that keen to see her. But can’t you make an effort? At least for Doris’s sake. It obviously means a lot to her. Can’t you at least try?’

‘I’ll think about it,’ said Sarah, in a noncommittal manner, but I noticed when Doris and Caz came back, both looking slightly pale it has to be said, that she made an effort to at least speak to Caz and even shared one or two jokes with her. I grinned encouragingly at Dorrie. Who knows, maybe her madcap reunion scheme might actually work. Stranger things have been known to happen.

Chapter Three (#ulink_a526be3a-da48-5459-b14b-72093174b564)

Sarah

Had I known what Doris’s ‘treat’ for us was going to be, I’m not sure I’d have gone on her hen weekend. Bless Doris, with her understanding boyfriend who’d do anything for her and dippy but wonderful mum who babysits at the drop of a hat, she can never quite get that life for other people is slightly more complicated. All she has to do is flutter her eyelashes at Daz and he’s putty in her hands, so arranging a weekend away without the baby isn’t the major undertaking it is for me. Besides, she doesn’t have school runs to factor in. Having persuaded Steve that he owed me big time was an undertaking in itself. I didn’t directly want to broach the subject of why he owes me, because I couldn’t face the lies and self-justifications. Better let him fret a bit about what I knew or didn’t know rather than having a full-blown and ultimately meaningless confrontation about it. We’d been there too many times and I just didn’t have the energy to do it again.

So Steve agreed to ‘babysit’ his own children for the weekend. For all his other faults, Stephen is a good dad, when he can be persuaded to take time away from his precious office and pay any attention to the kids. I can’t take that away from him, and he hadn’t griped as much as I thought he would about me having a girlie weekend with my best friends. Or rather, my best friends barring one.

I knew I hadn’t behaved well when Dorrie opened the door and produced Caz. Beth was right. What happened was a long time ago, and maybe I should forgive and forget. But just seeing her again had churned up all my jealous hateful feelings and the white-hot anger that I had carried with me for years. Caz was supposed to be my best friend and she had betrayed me in the worst way imaginable. And although with hindsight and a much better knowledge of my husband’s behaviour, I could see her side of the story, it still didn’t take anything away from what she’d done. Whatever way you cut it, Caz had broken my trust and I wasn’t sure if I could ever forgive her for that. Just seeing her again had been like reopening an old wound. A knife twisted in my stomach as I wondered, yet again, whether Steve had found her more sexy than me, whether he’d ever thought about whether he made the right choice. I know I did.

But this wasn’t my weekend to spoil, and I love Dorrie too much to want to ruin things for her. So when Beth and I met them, fresh from their trip up Space Mountain, I took a deep breath and said as casually as I could, ‘So, how’s it going then?’

Caz looked at me a little cautiously. I couldn’t blame her, seeing as I had snapped her head off earlier.

‘Er, OK,’ she said. ‘Still travelling the world, tarting up ungrateful models.’

‘Sounds a lot more fun than the school run and the washing,’ I said. Honestly, trying to make out her life was somehow dull and mundane, she had no idea how the real world operated. There were days when I’d give anything to be young, free and single again.

‘Well it’s not all it’s cracked up to be,’ Caz said. ‘There are times when I live out of a suitcase, and generally speaking I see nothing of the country but a series of nameless hotels. It’s not that exciting.’

‘More exciting than my life,’ I said.

‘But you’ve got the kids, and Steve—’ she said, then wavered a little.

‘Oh yes, Steve,’ I said sweetly. ‘Yes, I have got him, haven’t I?’

An awkwardness hung between us, and Dorrie and Beth who’d been looking on nervously from the sidelines, both jumped in with ‘Let’s get some candyfloss’ (Beth) and, ‘I don’t care how old you are, we are all going to go and have our photo taken with Goofy, right now’ (Dorrie).

Dorrie grabbed my arm and Beth grabbed Caz’s and they manhandled us over to where a queue of children was patiently waiting to have their picture taken with Goofy. We were the only adults in the queue.

‘Dorrie, do we have to do this?’ Caz groaned. ‘I feel like such a dork.’

‘Me too,’ I said, and momentarily forgetting my animosity to Caz in the face of such mortification, I grinned at her. I’d forgotten this, how Caz and I always used to stand together against Dorrie’s battier ideas.

‘Yes, we absolutely do,’ said Dorrie in mock serious tones. ‘This is my weekend and you will do things my way. That is all.’

Beth giggled, ‘Dorrie, everyone else having their photo taken is about two foot tall. We’ll look ridiculous.’

‘I don’t care,’ said Dorrie. ‘We are having a picture with Goofy and that is that.’

So ten minutes later, we all stood posing like idiots next to Goofy. Dorrie of course had thrust her arm through his, but I refused point blank to let him put his arm round me. It was bad enough to be standing next to an adult dressed up as a cartoon character without having to be hugged by him. To make matters worse, Dorrie wanted thousands of pictures with him, ‘For posterity,’ she said. ‘I may never do this again.’

‘We certainly won’t,’ Caz muttered, and I couldn’t help grinning.

‘Isn’t this fun?’ Dorrie beamed as she got us to all link arms and stand in front of Goofy for a final photo. Caz and I studiously stood on either end as far apart as we could get.

‘Good, can we go now?’ I said as we broke up after the last shot. A huge crowd of toddlers was building up, this was getting more embarrassing by the minute.

‘Oh look, look,’ Dorrie waved madly, ‘it’s Mickey! Cooee, come and have your photo with us, Mickey.’

So we all stood in line again, this time having no choice but to link arms with Mickey and Goofy. I produced a series of contorted smiles as the endless torture went on.

‘Honestly, Dorrie, I’m going to kill you for this,’ I said.

‘But just think of the great photos we’re going to have,’ said Dorrie, beaming brightly. I have never known anyone be so positive as Dorrie – no wonder she loved all things Disney.

Finally the marathon photo session came to an end, and the poor beleaguered minder was able to hand back Dorrie’s camera.

‘Right, can we go now?’ hissed Caz. ‘I’ve had as much of this as I can take.’

Unfortunately, Goofy didn’t seem to think so and insisted that not only was hugging required, but kissing too.

‘Dear god,’ I said laughing hysterically as we finally made our way to the candyfloss stall. ‘I can’t believe I have just been snogged by a cartoon character.’

‘I told you it would be fun,’ said Dorrie, with self-satisfaction. ‘I so love it when I’m right.’

‘Oh, do shut up,’ we said. Suddenly it felt like old times. I glanced at Caz, wondering if she felt the same. Could we possibly reclaim our past after all?

‘So, are we still having fun?’ Dorrie had gathered us all, like the mother hen she was, and insisted we wait out a spring shower in a café crowded with families: small children darted here and there, toddlers screamed and were pacified with soothers and bottles. I had a pang of longing for my own family, at home without me. I knew the boys would love Euro Disney. I had a sudden fantasy of Steve and me finally sorting out our problems and coming here for a family celebration. Then dismissed it. That was never going to happen.

The café staff were evidently overrun, as the place was overflowing with plastic cups and plates which hadn’t been cleared away. I was beginning to get a headache, not helped by the endlessly cheery music. I’d only been here a day and already I was fed up with the place, longing to have a hot drink out of a proper mug, rather than a Styrofoam cup. And really, if I were being honest, I wanted to be at home with the children.

‘Yes, Auntie Dorrie,’ grinned Caz. ‘Honestly, we’re not your children, and we’re not Darren. You can talk to us like normal human beings, you know.’

‘Sorry,’ Dorrie looked shamefaced. ‘I don’t mean to go on, but you know how much I love everything Disney and I just want everyone to have a good time.’