My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding (13 page)

Callum growls deep inside his throat and practically launches himself at me. “You look incredible as ever, my love.” He tangles his fingers through my blonde hair and kisses me hard on the mouth.

Even though I haven’t eaten much today, I’m overcome with pangs of hunger for my boyfriend and not the chicken dinner that’s being kept warm in the oven. Besides, I’ve got an oven of my own that needs some serious warming right now!

The passion of the moment overwhelms us both. With a swipe of his arm Callum dramatically clears the table of dishes.

“Oh my god, Cal!” I screech as plates and cutlery smash onto the floor.

“Don’t worry, honey.” He growls in my ear. “I’ll buy you a new set of bowls tomorrow.”

And with that my dearly beloved throws me onto the hard kitchen table and makes passionate love to me. I’m pretty sure my bum will be bruised and sore in the morning. Right now though, I couldn’t care less. I abandon myself to a proper kitchen christening. Come to think of it, this really is the only room in the house we haven’t yet done it in. Not that I was letting my mind wander during our table-top love making. We’re finished and spent and I’m straddling my fiancé’s lap as he sits on a kitchen chair.

“Well that was unexpected.” I kiss him all over his adorable face.

“Oh, babe,” Callum mumbles into my neck. “That was so hot I swear I can smell smoke rising off you.”

I smell smoke too actually. “I don’t think we caused that much friction between us just now, ha!”

I’m laughing, but Callum isn’t. He’s squinting in the direction of the floor. “Oh my god, Emily! The candles! Shit! Fire!”

“Whhaaaa?” I scream as he pushes me forcibly off his lap. The next thing I know he’s racing to the sink then back again with a bucket of water. Immediately, he pours the lot onto the curtains on either side of the conservatory doors.

My hero has just put out a real fire, which is so different to the quenching of my fire he just sated on the kitchen table.

“It’s your fault you know.” I snort a laugh while secretly checking out the naked form of my heroic manly man. “You just had to go and swipe lit candles off the table.”

***

Canoodling on the sofa still naked together, Callum roams his hand around my tummy. “I don’t think you should lose any more weight, honey.”

As if he’d have a clue about how a bride-to-be feels about her impending wedding date. I see the Duchess of Cambridge on the news all the time looking rail thin. I’ve got insanely slender aspirations to strive for.

“Promise me you won’t diet any more, babe.” Callum adds.

“What about your mum and her insistence that I take her exercise class…” I pause, remembering something. “Oh my god, your mum!” Scrabbling to my feet, I throw on my bathrobe. “She wants me to be at her aerobics class tonight!”

“Oh.” Callum looks torn. “Well, I suppose that’s okay, but promise me you won’t over do it.” I jog out of the room even though he’s still talking. “And don’t do Zumba Zumba classes until after the wedding!”

I have no idea what he’s on about. Does he want to arrange my daily exercise schedule or something?

I make it to Brenda’s workout session ten minutes late, so I have to warm up on my own. I didn’t take my exercise clothes in to Mia’s shop for alterations, so my yoga pants keep falling down every time I stand up. Luckily, this is a tummy burn class, so most of the workout is done lying down or in a seated position.

After the class I wave goodbye to Brenda, just so she knows I bothered to show up. I know she wants to have a chat with me, so I duck out of the room quickly.

“Oh hello, Emily!”

Spinning on my heel I’m confronted by Thomas. “Hello and goodbye, Thomas.” I turn around again and head out the main doors of the Meli Spa. Thomas the lifeguard is too quick though. He jumps in front of me, red t-shirt and red shorts flashing bright under the car park floodlights.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” he professes, going down on one knee. “I’m in love with you.”

Oh please. “No you’re not.” I’m tempted to add you little psycho, but I refrain from speaking such harsh words. I don’t know what’s got into this kid. I’m starting to wish I’d been saved by a woman lifeguard. Anyone other than this strange young man.

“Yes I am.” He jumps up and follows me as I head towards my car.

“Stay back!” I shout, pointing at him with my car key. “And I don’t want to see you stalking me around town any more, got it?”

“Stalking?” Thomas runs a hand through his fluffy blonde hair. “Is that what you think—”

I don’t wait to hear the end of his question. I simply hop into my car and drive away. I might have been a bit harsh on the kid, but needs must! I once read in a fashion magazine that if you give a potential stalker any kind of feedback they’ll latch onto it and then…

Murder most horrid!

Shuddering, I grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

Arriving home I sneak into bed next to Callum where I start complaining about Thomas the lifeguard stalker kid.

“I wouldn’t worry, Em.” My fiancé yawns. “He sounds like a love struck puppy is all. And who can blame him really? You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

My eyes well up with tears of ‘aw’. My betrothed really is the sweetest man alive!

Chapter 9

It’s business as usual at the cafe all morning today. Just before the lunch hour I get a call from our wedding venue saying it’s time I visit to finalise things.

“Are you sure you and Fiona will be okay on your own after…” I let my question to Anika linger.

“We will be fine, boss lady.” She scoots me out the door. “You go and get your beautiful wedding castle organised.”

She’s not lying either. Callum and I really are getting married in a castle. The place is so fabulous it even has its own moat!

Thirty minutes later I pull up into the lovely gravelled driveway of Mortsbaton Court. The gardens are stunning. Flowers bloom everywhere as I head inside through the wooden double doors.

It’s not a massive place, Mortsbaton. I mean, it’s not like Callum and I have a celebrity wedding budget to blow, even with my parents helping out with wedding expenses. I love this little pseudo-castle. It’s the perfect size for our needs. And the place is so picturesque and gorgeous.

“Welcome, Emily!” I’m greeted by Georgina who runs the estate weddings. “I’m so sorry to have called you in so unexpectedly, but it’s the only time we could coordinate with your… ehem… wedding planner.”

I like Georgina. She’s so sweet in her shortness. I swear the brown haired woman must be four foot eleven max. She’s also probably in her thirties and she makes the meaning of the word ‘petite’. She has a subdued sense of style with her flowing skirt.

Something she just said has me on alert now though.

“My wedding planner?”

Georgina looks doubtful. “Well yes. Mrs Stephenson—”

“Brenda?” I shout, cutting the woman off mid-sentence. Since when is Callum’s mum my wedding planner?

“Your fiancé phoned us last week, Emily.” Georgina looks worried. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know—”

She’s cut off again by the sound of car tyres rolling into the gravelled car park. Turning, I look out through the open double doors.

Brenda is here. She bounces out of her vehicle dressed in spandex from head to toe. I’m beginning to wonder if the woman is planning on wearing workout clothes to our actual wedding.

I’m at a loss for words as my soon-to-be-mother-in-law bounds energetically up the stone steps.

“Surprise!” She beams in my face. “I didn’t want Callum to tell you our little secret. I’m your wedding coordinator, Emily.” She air kisses me next to both of my cheeks and does the same with Georgina. In turn, the petite venue lady looks at me with apologetic eyes.

She didn’t know that I didn’t know about Brenda mysteriously becoming my new wedding planner.

Well, I suppose I do need someone to organise things, and if there’s anyone whose up to such an energetic task, physically fit Brenda is the woman for the job. There’s just one problem though. “How are you going to fit in doing your aerobics classes if you’re organizing my wedding?”

Georgina has begun the tour of the wedding facilities and Brenda and I are walking along behind her.

“I’ll manage, dear.” Brenda pats the back of my hand. “Besides, I’m always kitted up for a workout, just in case. After all, if you’re always dressed ready to sweat you’ll always be burning the fat!”

Jeez, enough emphasis on always?

She pokes my arm.

I’m caught off guard by her actions so I didn’t have time to tense my muscles. My arm fat wobbles a bit and I grit my teeth to try and keep myself from saying something I might later regret.

“So what do you think of the bridal suite?” Georgina splays her hand as we enter the sumptuous boudoir.

“It’s a bit small.” Brenda wanders towards the bay window, mumbling complaints to herself as she looks around the room. “By the way, Emily. I’ve contacted your photographer cousin, Nicola.”

She what now?

“She’s offered to do my mother of the groom photo sitting for free! Isn’t she a dear.”

Oh for fuck sake. I’ll have to remind myself to ring up Nicola once I get out of here. I dread to think what Brenda might have said to my photographer cousin in order to get her to agree to a free photo sitting. I mean, my cousin does have her own business to run. She can’t go giving out free photo shoots to just anyone. She’s not even doing my wedding photos for free, and I’d never expect her to. I decide here and now to pay for sneaky Brenda’s photo sitting myself. To be honest, I don’t know why the mother of the groom feels she needs her own personal photo shoot anyway, but that’s Brenda for you.

The woman does as she pleases.

Finally, we’re shown around the exquisite gardens of the Mortsbaton Court grounds. As we near the streamlined moat Brenda fires off questions to Georgina about the estate’s history.

“You know, Brenda,” I say, nearly losing my cool. “You can always go to the Mortsbaton Court website later.”

“The internet is for lazy sods.” She waves off my idea with a flourish of hand. A hand that I’m going to stay far away from, lest she feels the need to poke her point home into any of the more blubbery parts of my anatomy.

Thankfully, Georgina offers a reprieve. “Tea, ladies?”

“Yes please!” I stomp away through the grass a bit too exuberantly.

“Oh, Emily, no it’s here.”

I turn around when I hear Georgina’s instructions and I’m not at all surprised to see there’s a robot floating up next to her.

Smacking my forehead, I try to mask my frustration by pushing my hand through my hair.

“Is something the matter, Emily?” Georgina asks me kindly.

“Oh no,” I say, staying right where I am as Brenda takes a teacup from the robot’s tray. “I just… I think I’ll wait to have tea later.”

I’m not moving an inch closer to the penguin shaped bot that’s holding a tray. I suppose the owners of this place thought a little butler penguin robot would be cute, but I know better. I know how often Oliver’s bots malfunction.

“That thing won’t be around at my wedding, will it?” I point at the offending mechanical penguin.

“Not if you don’t wish it to be.” Georgina frowns. “This little guy has been such a help around here though, I’m amazed at what Oliver’s robots can do.”

Amazed is one word for it. Terrifying is how I’d describe my robotic encounters of late.

“This tea is acceptable,” Brenda interjects. “You should really try some, Emily. I think you need to relax.”

I need to relax? Says the woman dressed for a twenty-four/seven workout-a-thon.

“Yes, try some, Emily.” Georgina talks to the robot and slowly but surely the mechanical thing floats toward me. The only problem is that once it reaches me its speed suddenly increases.

“Oh no!” I cry out at the same time Georgina screams.

It’s too late, I’m already catching air beneath my feet as I trip, fall, and plummet into the moat below.