‘This is a really weird way to start a hen party.’ Sal’s voice carries across the moor as she stalks down the path on her six-inch heels, dragging her very noisy wheelie-case behind her. Reaching us, she glances from me to Beth, then back again, before parking the suitcase, adjusting her shades, and folding her arms. ‘You pair have really lost touch with Rach, haven’t you? I mean if you’d asked me—’
‘We didn’t, because she didn’t.’
‘Didn’t what?’
‘Ask you,’ says Beth, reasonably. ‘She asked us.’ She flashes a finger between the two of us. ‘Because we’re her …’ she pauses, leans in, and I don’t know which is more wicked, her grin or the look in her eye, ‘besties.’
I grin back, I can’t help myself. I’m feeling good, and not even Sal can puncture my mood. Freddie texted me! We’ve been ships passing in the night for a few days and I’ve been torn. On the one hand, I wanted to barricade the door so he couldn’t escape, hold the coffee hostage so he had to come looking for it, grab him, pin him down (for explanation, not carnal, reasons) and insist that nothing has changed. I’m fine about the kiss, and now we can move on. Exactly as we were.
On the other hand, I’ve been terrified that if we do talk he’ll say things have changed between us, that he’s now checking every day that I’ve not moved his stuff in the kitchen cupboards, that none of my clothes have sneaked into his side of the flat – which is tricky, as we don’t really have sides – and that quite honestly maybe I need to move out before things escalate. Or, and this would be a low blow that would send me back into the post-hen-night spiral, he’ll say the kiss was crap and he doesn’t know why he did it.
So, it would be better to carry on skirting round each other, and the issue.
Anyway, crisis averted! We’re cool.
‘Soz I’ve been avoiding u, am a prat’ – I love that he is so honest – ‘but not sorry about the kiss. Adorable people need to be snogged, and it was my turn. Feel free to snog me if you ever think I deserve it. Well, any time really. Movie date night on the sofa tonight? Hands free – I promise. Let’s not mention this again though, for the sake of my fragile ego?’
‘Movie night if I can pick.’
‘You’re pushing it now! I only said I was a prat.’
‘Ha! I’m still going to pick. And as the other prat, Chris Pratt, would say – I like to do Garfield Mondays.’
‘Eh?’
‘Can we do Monday instead of tonight, I’m at Rach’s hen party this weekend.’
‘So, I’m just a hangover cure?’
‘Something like that.’
‘You’re using and abusing me.’
There’s a long break in texts, while we both ponder the sensible answer to that. Well, at least, I do.
‘How about I pick you up from wherever it is, then you don’t have to worry about a taxi the morning after?! Call it me making up.’
‘You’re a star. Here’s where it’s at!’ I send him the address. ‘Will text a time as soon as I know, if that’s okay?’
Like I say, we’re cool. Though a bit of me is disappointed that he didn’t declare undying love, the need to strip me naked on the kitchen worktop, and a realisation that his previous love was now a thing of the past.
Hands free isn’t great. Though he did say I could snog him if I wanted.
And hey, we’re friends. That beats everything.
‘Pfffft!’ Sal is still spouting off. ‘The girl is getting married in a castle, she likes nice things these days, she’s … she doesn’t want her last big single-girl blow out to be a party in the park!’ Sal is scowling. I reckon she’s more bothered about herself than Rachel, at least I hope so. And we haven’t completely cocked this up. Most of it was Beth’s idea, but I threw myself behind it totally.
‘Don’t worry …’ Beth pauses, ‘it gets worse. Promise.’ She’s enjoying this. ‘That’s why you need spare clothes. Who knows, maybe we’re sleeping under the stars!’
Sal’s look is replaced with one of horror. ‘I am not sleeping in a tent. Not for anybody!’
‘Not even for your best friend, who’s getting married soon?’
‘Sod off. This isn’t what she’d expect me to do! And I’ve brought nice clothes, not, not …’
‘Camping clothes?’
‘And don’t you have a baby that needs looking after?’
‘Ooh, the bitch is back. Well, for your information, Joe’s not a milk-sucking leech!’
‘Sorry?’ Sal frowns. I hold my breath. I’d thought it was Sal and Maddie that I had to be barrier like with. Turns out it’s a Sal sandwich.
‘He’s not stuck to my boob 24/7 you daft bint, I just ping him off now and then like this.’ Beth flicks her finger off her thumb, and I cringe. ‘And I did bring him, we’re going to all take turns getting up in the night.’
Sal is turning a funny shade of pink. ‘But he pukes!’
‘Not all the time.’
Maybe I should step in, calm things down. But then again, maybe not. Sal has always been a bit cold and calculated, which is why I don’t get why Jack married her. But hey, maybe it’s all down to fizzy kisses that make you go all disorientated and fuzzy inside. So, I shouldn’t judge on that one. But neither am I inclined to step in. Yet. Obviously if they start to roll on the grass ripping each other’s hair out I might.
‘Oh, my goodness, sorry, sorry. Traffic. Have I missed anything?’ Maddie is standing before us, perfect matching pink trolley bag and hairband, with a nervous smile on her face.
‘You have got to be kidding? You’ve not brought him?’ Sal and Beth still have horns locked.
‘Of course, I haven’t! I expressed, you know …’ She makes a milking-the-cow gesture. ‘Gold top all the way.’
‘You’ve not missed anything important!’ I hug Maddie, then whisper in her ear. ‘Just some Beth baiting!’ She giggles and relaxes a bit. When we were at school, Beth always used to say that harmony was boring, then would proceed to wind people up to the extent that somebody was bound to blow and cause a scene. In Sal, she had the perfect candidate, as she’d had a bit of a humour bypass and was so competitive she never realised that she was being teased. ‘Anyway,’ I go back to normal volume, ‘you’re not late, Rachel’s not here yet, and she’s bringing Michael’s sister Daisy, and a mate from work called Claire.’
‘Oh, good.’ Maddie smiles properly for the first time. ‘I like Daisy.’
‘I do, too.’ I do, she’s sweet, nothing at all like Michael. It’s hard to imagine they share the same genes.
‘Hi, er, are you Rachel’s friends?’ I nod. ‘I’m Claire, from her office.’ Claire stops short of our group, nervously shifting from foot to foot, clutching her bag. I can’t blame her, Beth and Sal are still squaring up, and Mads and I are huddled together watching from a safe distance.
‘Oh, wow, yes! Hi!’ I leap on her enthusiastically hoping her arrival might defuse things. ‘I’m Jane, and this is Maddie, and that’s Sal and Beth.’ I point them out in turn. ‘Dump your bag with the rest and give us a hand to get the rugs out if you like. Rach and Daisy should be here soon.’
I can’t actually blame Sal for being a bit tetchy, when she’s turned up all ready for a night in some glam location and discovers it’s a rug and Domino pizza in the park night. Even Rach is a bit confused when the Deliveroo guy turns up two minutes after she does, and starts dishing out the ‘Mega Night In with added extras’ deal. She’s side-eyeing Sal, and Beth and I are trying to keep straight faces.
‘Party in the park!’ I grin at Rachel. ‘We thought we’d go all nostalgic.’ Beth and I high-five, pleased with ourselves. ‘Remember when we used to do this when we were in the sixth form?’
She nods tentatively, and it’s obvious she’s not entirely convinced that this is the best hen party ever.
‘It was girls only, we used to pelt the lads with pizza, if they came near!’ Beth adds.
‘You’re not telling me you’ve planned a pizza fight?’ Sally sounds horrified, and Rach has what can only be described as a fixed smile on her face.
‘Fab!’ Rachel bravely tries to sound excited.
‘Oh my God, I nearly forgot!’ Yells Beth and reaches for her bag. ‘The coup de foudre!’
‘The what?’ Mad frowns.
‘I don’t think you mean that!’ For the first time, Sal shows the glimmer of a smile. ‘Unless you’ve got some hottie hidden in that tiny bag.’
‘Wha?’ Beth stops furtling.
‘A coup de foudre is a bolt of thunder, love at first sight, just like me and –’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, if you mention his name!’
‘I was going to say me and my pug, Charles!’
‘You’ve got a pug?’ Maddie leans forward. ‘Oh I love pugs, they’re just so squishy and …’
‘Called Charles?’ I interrupt. This bit is funnier to me. ‘You’ve called your dog Charles?’
‘He’s very regal and talks to plants.’ Sal’s expression softens. Forget Jack, I think we’ve just discovered who her true love really is. Apart from herself of course.
‘I think you mean pees on them.’ Beth interjects. ‘Anyhow, stop interrupting. This is more important!’ And she whips out a bottle of Prosecco.
Claire, who has been pretty quiet, shifts uncomfortably on her corner of the rug, Maddie cheers and Sal rolls her eyes.
‘Well, thank heavens, you at least had the sense to bring some alcohol.’ She does however follow up with a smile and I heave an inward sigh of relief. Looks like hostilities have been suspended for a bit.
‘Come on.’ I chivvy them along. ‘Eat up, you need to line your stomachs for what’s coming next!’
‘You mean there’s more?’
‘Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Sally.’ Beth raises an eyebrow, but they do seem to have a truce.
‘When I had my hen party I … shit, what the f—’
Beth manages to dump her whole glass of Prosecco in Sal’s lap. Oops, okay they can’t be nice to each other for more than two minutes. ‘Sorry. Chill, it’ll soon dry, alcohol evaporates doesn’t it? More anybody?’
This has not got off to a good start, but I know it will get better. I just know it.
Fifteen minutes later, with pizza and Prosecco done and dusted, there is a noisy hoot of a horn.
‘Quick, quick, you’re going to love this!’ Beth is cramming the small litter bins with cardboard, she’s told Maddie to dispose of the bottles and plastic cups in another, and I’m rolling the rugs up as fast as I can. There may be pizza in them, but who cares?
Beth and I stand at the door of the bus and wait nervously as the others hand their cases to the driver to be stashed.
‘Oh my God!’ Sally is so close behind Rachel as they go up the step she practically falls in, but she finally looks happy. Sitting on the grass put her so far out of her comfort zone that she was pricklier than a hedgehog. Here, I’m sure, she can forgive Beth every jibe. Which is handy.
‘This is amazing.’ Rachel does a twirl before landing on a seat. ‘Where on earth did you find this?’
I grin. ‘You likey?’
‘Oh, me likey. Definitely.’ She pats the seat.
‘Welcome to the boogie bus! A booze cruise has got nothing on this.’
There’s a bit of a stunned silence as everybody gazes round in awe, and me and Beth give each other the thumbs up.
Then we get the party started.
The disco lights are on, the champagne bar is open, and we’re ready to party.
I haven’t got a clue where we’ve parked up, but I don’t really care. It’s to be hoped it’s in the middle of nowhere as this bus has some sound system as we dance our way through the ’70s and ’80s and have a blast with the karaoke.
Maddie and Sal seem to have buried the hatchet (but, luckily, not in each other), Beth has completely let her hair down and forgotten to try to needle anybody. ‘I’m not leaking milk am I?’ She peers down her front.
I grin and shake my head.
‘I’ve not had my boobs bouncing like this for years!’
The only person I’m worried about is Claire. She’s had one dance, but seems to be trying to down the entire contents of the bar on her own. Well, with Maddie’s help actually.
‘This is ace.’ Rachel spins me round and distracts me. Wrapping me in a three-way hug with Daisy and we ‘Party Like It’s 1999’, trying to avoid Sal’s flailing arms and the chance of a black eye.
The music slowly fades and the lighting changes, and Rachel screams. ‘A pole! A pole! Pole dancing, how did you know?’
I reckon this, not the Prosecco, is the pinnacle of our achievement tonight. Who’d have thought that having a pole between her legs was all that Rach had ever wanted?
She’s wrapped round there in an instant. It’s not elegant, it’s not good, but it’s bloody funny. And awesome when Sally actually mounts the bloody thing as though she’s been taking lessons from Pink!.
Beth and I sit back, and wallow in our awesomeness and we watch them make complete dicks of themselves in a good way.
The boogie bus is a triumph.
I chat to Daisy about the photography course she’s doing at college.
And Beth huddles with Maddie in a corner whispering about who knows what.
And Claire gets very, very pissed and voms out of the window, because even though I’ve tried my very, very best to include her, it’s hard when you’re quiet and just not part of the gang.
And then the driver starts up the bus and we’re off again.
‘All out, cases are here, ladies.’ Our driver is obviously used to dealing with inebriated hens. He herds us off in the same way you would if we were the actual feathered, clucky variety. It works well.
Daisy and Claire opted out of phase two, so they yell goodbyes and stay put, and Beth swears a lot after discovering an emergency text (and lots of missed calls) from her mum insisting that her baby son is on hunger strike and needs the real deal. So after some major foot stamping she climbs back on board and shouts out that she’ll be back in the morning after performing her mothering duties. And, to Sal’s horror, displays her boobs to illustrate the point.
Which leaves three bridesmaids and a bride to be.
We all stand in the darkness, slightly stunned as the bus drives away. Then Sally points.
‘We’re staying here?’
‘We certainly are.’ I smile as I look at the entrance to the very posh spa hotel, and then glance over at Rachel, who gives me the thumbs up.
‘This place is supposed to be awesome!’
‘No tent?’ Says Sal, as though she can’t quite believe it.
‘No tent.’
She smiles, her face transformed. She has found the perfect place to park her suitcase. ‘Come on, girls.’ She’s so keen she’s leading the way to Reception, dragging Rachel behind her.
‘Be with you in a sec, you check in!’ I call after them, hanging back to breathe in some fresh air.
This is phase two. Sleep and pamper. I need sleep, I really need sleep. My feet are killing, and I feel more than a little bit tipsy. So tipsy in fact, I could swear I just saw … No. It can’t be.
‘Jane, any chance we can, erm, talk?’
I have been accosted just outside the entrance hall. By Jack.
Sobering up normally takes about eight hours. I reckon this takes eight seconds.
‘Oh my God, what the hell are you doing here? You can’t be here! Shush, out, out.’ I’m bundling him down the steps as we speak, and glance nervously back to check that nobody has seen him. Nobody meaning Maddie. ‘Stay!’ I waggle a warning finger.
He nods meekly as I storm back over and make sure everybody has checked in and is heading for bed. ‘You go up, I’ve got to check a couple of things for tomorrow!’ They go, too tipsy and knackered to complain.
‘What the …’ I bundle the unfortunate Jack into what I think is a bin store. It’s dark and smelly anyway. ‘Why are you here?’
‘It’s Michael’s stag do.’
‘Here?’ This I cannot believe. ‘Here?!’ I say it again. ‘But it’s a spa hotel! Why the hell did you come to a spa hotel, and you knew we were coming!’
‘No, we didn’t! Michael hadn’t got a clue where you lot were going, and Sally told me you and Beth were behaving like children and wouldn’t tell anybody.’
Okay, I’ll do a U-turn on that one. I glare though, because of the behaving like children remark. ‘It was a surprise! And it’s still a country house and spa!’
‘I know.’ He looks miserable. ‘It was a complete cock-up. We left it too late to book anything else.’ I don’t ask him who ‘we’ is, because I’ve a horrible suspicion it involves the man I do not wish to speak of. ‘Andy looked around’ – ha-ha, I was right – ‘and said it was this or nothing, we had to settle for a whisky and wildlife weekend, except it wasn’t a weekend, it was Thursday to Saturday.’
He looks so down I start to laugh.
‘We’ve been up to our knees in bogs and deer shit stalking the master of the moors.’
‘Master of the moors?’ This is beginning to sound like a kinky kind of murder mystery weekend. My laugh is starting to sound slightly hysterical.
‘A stag.’
‘Oh, then what, did you shoot it?’
‘God, no! I’m not into that bloodlust thing. It was amazing, so majestic.’ He perks up a bit. ‘I got some brilliant photos.’
‘I bet!’ I feel a sudden pang of jealousy but haven’t got time to dwell on that. ‘Are you sure when you booked a stag party there wasn’t some kind of misunderstanding?’
Jack laughs. ‘Maybe. Then we came back here for a lesson is whisky. We’re off in the morning though for some bird action.’
I raise an eyebrow.
‘The feathered type! We’re flying birds of prey.’ He looks so downcast it’s hard not to laugh. ‘We have to get up early.’
‘Very early?’ I try to ignore the giggles and give him my stern look. Stern, but drunk. He does look worried, so it might be more stern than drunk.
‘Well, not early, we’ve got breakfast included and we can’t …’
‘Fine.’
This is actually fine, we’ve organised breakfast in the suite we booked for Rachel. A proper girlie start to the day before the pampering starts. I can keep the two tribes apart.
‘Well, why do you want to talk to me?’ I glare. We avoided each other at the engagement party. He quails. ‘I used to like you, you know, before …’ I’m not normally quite this outspoken, particularly when it’s none of my business. But we all like to think we’re a good judge of character, don’t we? And when you’ve known somebody for years …
‘Is Mads okay?’ It comes out in a rush.
‘Okay? Well, yeah, absolutely fantastic, deliriously happy. She is so looking forward to walking down the aisle with your wife, instead of you.’
He flinches and looks even paler than he did before. But that could be down to the security light that has just flashed on.
‘I wouldn’t go to the wedding at all, but I’m best man, and Sally would—’
‘Never forgive you if you didn’t?’
‘Something like that. She’s very friendly with Rach and Michael. She calls us,’ he looks even more dejected, ‘the fearsome foursome.’ I can’t help it, I snigger. Nobody would have ever called Jack fearsome. ‘We do, er …’ there is a pink flush along his cheekbones and I actually start to feel a bit sorry for him, ‘dinner parties.’
‘Cosy.’ I am surprised Rachel never let on just how close she was to Sal these days, but I suppose couples do things like dinner parties, and I’m not part of a couple. And she probably didn’t want to upset me.
Jack sits down on the step that leads to the side entrance of the hotel. ‘I do still care for her, you know.’ He gives me a sideways look, beneath his floppy fringe. ‘Mads. I’ve never stopped loving her, but she told me we needed to move on. That it wasn’t working any more.’
I sigh. ‘Did you try and get her to change her mind?’
‘Not at the start, I mean I’d got carried away with uni, my new mates, the freedom.’ He picks at the blades of grass that have grown between the paving. ‘I’ve been a jerk, haven’t I?’
‘If you say so.’
‘I did try and talk to her in the summer hols, but she was away with her parents in Italy most of the time, and I’d arranged a break in Barcelona with the boys, then I had to go back and find a flat, and, well, the summer was over.’
‘And then?’
‘And then I bumped into Sally, and she was dead understanding. She really listened, you know? We talked and she made me see why Maddie had broken things off. She told me if I ever needed somebody to talk to, a mate from home, and, well, one thing led to another, then she thought she was pregnant, and …’
He doesn’t need to say any more.
I’d always thought Jack was decent. And maybe he was.
‘Sal said Mads was cool with it.’
‘I bet she did.’
‘I didn’t realise she wasn’t until we’d bought a house back here and bumped into her in the supermarket …’ He pauses. ‘God, she looked so upset.’ He looks upset himself now. ‘She just dropped her sprouts and ran. They went everywhere.’
For a moment I ponder the scattered sprouts, then realise he’s still talking.
‘I never meant to hurt Mads, we were over, we’d been over for ages. Years.’
‘Not in her head you hadn’t.’ I say it quietly.
‘I didn’t know that. She was so definite when she told me, then I was away and didn’t see her, and …’ He stops messing with his watch and looks at me. ‘Sal isn’t all bad, you know.’
‘I guess she isn’t, or she wouldn’t be our friend, or your wife.’
‘I think she got carried away with the idea of being together, we both did. I am really fond of her though.’
‘Fond?’
He laughs. ‘Fond, though I think we both talk to that dog of hers more than each other. She’s been good to me, and we’ve had a laugh, done all kinds of stuff together …’ He pauses. ‘I can’t leave her.’ He’s talking as though he’s persuading himself. ‘Marriage is for life, I promised. I promised, Jane. Oh, hell, I’ve made so many bloody mistakes, I’ve been so stupid.’
I stand up. ‘You are a complete twat Jack.’
‘I know.’
Then, without stopping to think about why, I hug him. Because he looks just like the old Jack I used to know at school. Cute and huggable. Which is a mistake, because he’s so shocked he takes a step back, and falls over the small wall, and throws his arm out to stop himself.
‘Aarghh, shit, fuck.’
‘Jack?’ I’ve never heard him swear before, well, not properly, loudly, like that.
‘Hell fire, it fucking hu—’
He sticks his arm out and we both stare. There is a sharp sticky out bit where there shouldn’t be. Then he keels over, and my stomach does a very unhealthy flip.
‘Jack, Jack!’ Shaking him isn’t doing any good. He’s out cold. I risk a look at his wrist again. There are bones on the outside that should be on the inside. My stomach lurches alarmingly so I look the other way and do a panting thing to try to stop myself from heaving or passing out. I think I’ve picked it up from maternity scenes on Holby, but it’s working for me even if I’m not having contractions. ‘Hang on, hang on.’ I don’t know why I’m saying hang on. He’s not going anywhere.
It takes bloody ages for the ambulance to arrive, and even longer for the receptionist to raise one of the stag party. Andy.
We stare at each other. He’s totally pissed. So pissed he thinks he’s been summoned to shag me. ‘This is a fucking good dream. Come here, darling. Oh, God, I’ve missed you.’ He lunges, I dodge. He nearly ends up in a pot plant.
‘Don’t you dare trip up and break something.’ If he does, I’ll murder him.
‘I’m not breaking anything, just your sweet little—’ He staggers round in a circle and prepares for a second charge.
‘You’ve been watching too many crap films.’
‘I do love you.’ It’s like watching a bull go after a red cape, a drunken bull. ‘I miss you.’
‘No, you don’t Andy, you dumped me! In the middle of my hen party!’ I side step and he staggers past.
‘Oh, yeah, but I still love you. I dream about you.’ He shakes his head. ‘I feel dizzy.’ He blinks. ‘I knew you’d forgive me in the end.’
‘No, I haven’t bloody forgiven you. You never even asked me to forgive you! Not that I would!’
‘You called me. You said you needed me.’
‘I need you to help Jack, not needed you in that way you dipstick!’
‘Let’s go to your room, I’m sharing mine with Jack.’
‘We’re not going to anyone’s room. It’s Jack, Jack!’
He frowns. Andy never was at his best when he was smashed.
‘You need to go to hospital with Jack! He’s got a bone sticking through his skin!’ I am hoping shock tactics might help concentrate his mind. Oops, mistake.
‘Bollocks.’ He sinks down, sliding with his back against a pillar and passes out. I’d forgotten he was so squeamish.
I end up packing Jack into the ambulance myself and leaving Andy snoring in the lobby.
‘You don’t need to come with me, Jane.’
‘Are you sure, but …’
‘It’s fine, it’s only a broken wrist.’ He winces. He’s very pale, green at the edges. ‘I am sorry about Mads you know. But I can’t dump Sal, she’s a nice person.’
‘What you and Sal do is your business, but don’t hurt Maddie any more, stay away, eh?’
I don’t hang about to hear his answer. He’s the same Jack he always was. The one I used to like. Maybe he didn’t do the dirty, maybe he really didn’t realise he’d hurt Mads. And maybe Sal didn’t either. She just saw a nice, single guy and went for it.
Only problem now is, he’s just more or less told me he still loves Maddie.
I’ve never liked secrets. The Michael one is already giving me a crisis of conscience. And now I’m supposed to keep this secret as well?
I have a headache. I need to sleep.