The Bridesmaid Pact

‘It’s great,’ I assured her, lying through my teeth. The only other people apart from Dorrie who could have dragged me here were the children – I felt the familiar tug of my heart, the boys would have had a blast here. I’d have to promise them I’d take them to make up for leaving them behind for the weekend.

‘Good,’ beamed Doris. She was always happier when other people were happy. ‘So what do you all want to do tonight?’

‘Any chance we can escape into Paris?’ Caz said hopefully. ‘I know some great cafés in Montmartre.’

‘Caz, even you must know that’s not an option,’ laughed Beth. ‘I’m sure Dorrie is just being polite. What do you want to do tonight, Dorrie? After all, this is your weekend.’

‘Well, there’s a Wild West show in Disney Village,’ said Dorrie.

Caz groaned. ‘You are so not going to make us go to that, are you?’ she said. ‘It’s bound to be full of screaming five-year-olds.’

‘And what’s wrong with five-year-olds?’ I snapped, my longing to see the children leaving me slightly oversensitive. Beth shushed me, clearly not wanting to get in a row, but Caz just rolled her eyes.

‘We’ll go to the later version,’ said Dorrie, ‘and I promise there’ll be drink. And Sarah, no more texting.’

‘Sorry,’ I said. I’d been surreptitiously texting Steve on and off all day to see how he was getting on. This was the first time I’d ever been away from the kids for any length of time and I was missing them badly. I wasn’t, oddly enough, missing Steve. It was peculiarly restful not having to think about Steve, or us, or what I was going to do about the monumental mess my life was in.

‘So it’s agreed, then?’ said Doris. ‘Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show and then we can probably still have time to see the fireworks before the evening ends.’

A couple of hours later we were all sitting in hysterics around a barbecue as we watched a spectacular show. It started with two cowboys in a mock brawl, which was so convincing we nearly moved tables as they came crashing towards us. They moved on then to have fun with a bucking bronco, and on discovering it was Dorrie’s hen weekend, they insisted she had a go, much to her delight. The show wrapped up with songs from Annie Get Your Gun and Oklahoma!. It wasn’t what I’d have chosen to see, and despite my slight thawing earlier on, I’d still have preferred to have spent the evening without Caz, but I had had enough beer to begin to relax and enjoy myself.

At least Doris had let us give up our Minnie Mouse ears in favour of cowgirl hats. Caz had flirted with the bar staff enough to blag some extra drinks and the mood was mellow. The main thing was that Doris was having a great time. She had been uncharacteristically tense of late, and Beth and I had been worrying that she’d been holding out on us over something, but listening to her launch into some outrageous tale involving Darren, a condom and an embarrassing encounter with Darren’s mum, I felt she was relaxing into her old self once more.

‘So how are things?’ Caz had sidled round to my side of the table, while Doris and Beth were indulging in a giggling conversation with a French actor who called himself Rodeo Bill.

‘Fine,’ I said, thinking, If only you knew. There was a time when Caz knew everything that was going on in my head. Despite what she’d done to me, part of me still missed her friendship terribly.

‘Is that fine, as in “Everything’s great” fine, or fine as in “Shut up and leave me alone” fine?’

Damn Caz. She always could see right through me.

I picked away at a beer mat, unwanted tears suddenly springing to my eyes.

‘Everything’s fine, honestly,’ I said. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’

‘No, no of course not.’ Caz looked sad when she said this. ‘You know, Sarah, if I could turn the clock back—’

‘Well you can’t,’ I said. ‘What’s done is done.’

‘And will I ever be forgiven?’ she asked in a small voice.

‘I don’t know, Caz,’ I said. ‘How would you feel if you were in my shoes?’

‘Point taken,’ Caz said. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

She looked so forlorn I nearly took pity on her and told her the true state of my marriage, but somehow I couldn’t. That would mean acknowledging how wrong I’d been to trust him and not her.

‘No, you shouldn’t have,’ I said harshly.

‘I’m sorry,’ Caz said again. ‘Truly I am.’

‘Let’s forget it, shall we?’ I said. ‘Come on, this is Dorrie’s night. We shouldn’t spoil it for her.’

‘Fine by me,’ said Caz. She turned to Doris and Beth. ‘Is it time for fireworks yet?’

‘Lordy, is that the time?’ Dorrie said, giggling. Dorrie didn’t tend to do really drunk, but I was glad she was having a good time. She got up slightly giddily, and stumbled against the chair. She must have tripped over her feet because suddenly she was lying on her back on the floor looking up at us.

‘I didn’t realize you’d had that much to drink,’ I said laughing. ‘Honestly, Dorrie, what are you like?’

Dorrie didn’t say anything for a minute, then laughed and said, ‘I must have had more than I realized. Come on, pull me up.’

I leant over and helped her to her feet. There was a fleeting moment when I had the slightest of feelings that she wasn’t happy about something. But it was gone in an instant. Dorrie was on her feet and demanding to be taken to fireworks.

‘Then it’s back to my room to polish off the vodka I bought on the way,’ she said.

‘Fireworks then vodka, it is,’ I said, linking arms with her. Beth joined her on the other side, and then I was aware that Caz was hovering next to me. I still hadn’t forgiven her, but not to grab her arm seemed really churlish.

The four of us walked arm in arm back towards the park. Well we would have walked, but of course Dorrie insisted we dance and sing ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard’. I wondered if she really believed in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Knowing Dorrie, she probably did.

‘Isn’t this great?’ Dorrie smiled at us and squeezed my arm. ‘The Fab Four finally back together. This has been the perfect hen weekend.’

The Fab Four might have been together temporarily, but I couldn’t see it lasting. I had no plans to see Caz again, whatever Dorrie might have thought. Too much water had gone under the bridge. Caz might be sorry, but for me, it was too late.

Chapter Four (#ulink_314d11d8-f22d-51aa-91b1-e947da7d09d4)

Doris

‘Welcome to Disney’s Fantallusion!’ the audio recording boomed out as we stood in the chilly March night air waiting for the fireworks. We’d missed the start of the parade, but were just in time to see the brightly lit floats carrying all the Disney characters from Jasmine and Aladdin to Belle and the Beast into the Central Plaza and up towards the Town Square. Jasmine and Aladdin’s carpet actually flew, and Belle and the Beast did a majestic waltz. It was glitzy and tacky and I didn’t care one bit. I was like a pig in clover.

This was why I’d come, for the delicious feeling of it being night and the place being brightly lit and all my favourite Disney characters dancing on great big fuck-off platforms. It reminded me of when Dad took me to Florida every year, and made me feel like a kid again: warm, safe and secure. There was something about the memory of those trips that made me yearn for a more innocent time, when I really did believe in a happy-ever-after. As usual, when I thought about Dad, and remembered the way he used to squeeze my hand, and say, ‘Look, kiddo, is that the best or what?’ whenever a particularly big rocket went off, I got a lump in my throat. I still missed him so badly, I could almost hear his voice in my head. I hadn’t wanted him to die, but neither had I wanted him to live the way he had been living.

The place was buzzing with families, huddling together for warmth. There were masses of excited children rushing around in the dark, small children trustfully holding their parents’ hands, just like I had on that long-ago childhood trip. Mind you, judging by the wails of some of the younger ones, they were ready for their beds. I felt a pang and thought about Woody, my eight-month-old. Tonight was the first night I hadn’t put him to bed since he was born, and I missed his baby smell, and his chubby cheeks and the way he cooed when I poured water over his head in the bath. I loved the way he clapped his hands and played peek-a-boo under the blankets. Woody had brought joy back into my life, during a time when I thought I’d never feel happy again. When he was bigger, I’d have to come back with him and Darren. If I were still able to of course. I shoved the thought from my mind. I’d promised myself no negativity this weekend. None. Whatsoever. It wasn’t allowed.

‘Fantallusion?’ Beth rolled her eyes. ‘What kind of word is that?’

‘Does it matter?’ I said. ‘Isn’t this fun?’

‘No!’ the other three said in unison. ‘We only came because you wanted to.’

‘You have to admit, Do, it is incredibly tacky,’ said Caz.

‘Says the girl who got married in a Las Vegas wedding chapel,’ I retorted. ‘Nothing wrong with a bit of tack. You lot ought to know me well enough by now. Talking of which, why aren’t you all wearing your flashing Minnie Mouse ears?’

‘If this wasn’t your weekend, I think I might have to kill you,’ said Caz, but she put on her ears anyway. And afterwards, even Caz had to admit we’d been treated to the most fabulous firework display any of us had ever seen.

When it was over, we slowly made our way back through the crowds to our hotel. It had been a good call to be staying so close to the park; apart from the obvious pleasure of staying in a Toy Story-themed bedroom, I was grateful not to have to walk too far. I tired so easily these days. Darren hadn’t wanted me to come, of course, but I had laughed off his concerns. Nothing, but nothing was going to ruin my hen weekend with the girls.

‘I hadn’t realized you were that pissed,’ Caz laughed at me as I stumbled and fell for the second time, as we reached the entrance of the park.