My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding (16 page)

Candy that appeals to the kid in me.

Using the scoopers I dump sweets into my pick and mix bag until its nearly brimming. “Um… I think that’ll do.” I plop down my goody bag.

“It most certainly will!” Isabella rings me up. “That’ll be three pounds and ninety pence please, Emily.”

“Is that all?” I dig around in my purse and come up with coins. “So much sugar for spare change!”

Isabella winks at me. “You will make me that fruit dip, right?”

I haven’t even tested out the recipe I’ve got in mind yet. “Of course I will!”

As I leave the sweet shop, popping candies into my mouth as I go, both Isabella and myself part ways with smiles on our faces.

***

Welcome to the sugar-low.

I’d eaten way too many sweets about two hours ago and now that I’m back at the cafe I’m lagging in energy. I know just what will cheer me up! Grabbing a slice of carrot cake off the shelf I sit down in my office and enjoy the moist loveliness with a steaming and aromatic hot cup of tea.

Aaahhh. The brew hits the spot nicely with every sip I take. Then, a bite of carrot cake between gulps of warming tea.

“Ah, such a bibelot is not in fine fettle of your prevalent nutritional regime.”

Anika has joined me in the office and for some unknown reason she’s speaking in her own language.

“Sorry?” I look at her, dumbfounded. “Could you say that again in English please?”

“I was speaking English, boss lady. I was saying that the cake you’re eating is not a healthy thing.”

Pausing, I stare at the bite of cake on my fork, then I pop it into my mouth without a care. “It’s bad for my diet yes,” I mumble between mouthfuls. “But it’s very yummy and scrummy to my tummy.”

Anika shakes her head, rolls her eyes and crosses her arms indignantly. I feel a stern lecture coming on and judging by her zealous use of the English language, I have a feeling I won’t understand a word of it.

She opens her mouth, points a finger into the air and lets loose a string of words that were probably added to the Oxford English dictionary only yesterday.

“You’re right, Anika.” I put down my fork having caught the gist of her message. “I did ask you to prompt me if your ever saw me behaving like a naughty girl.” It’s true, I had asked her as a friend to help me with motivational words now and then, should I ever feel the need to sway from anything other than healthy eating habits.

All in the name of wedding dress fitting preparations.

I do want to look good on my wedding day, I really do. It’s just…

Sagging into my chair I sigh loudly at the half eaten cake. Stupid delicious carrot cake, why do you have to be so delish? And why must I always be so weak willed?

The remainder of the day is much the same. I mope around the cafe eating bits and bobs here and there until closing time. I just don’t know if I care anymore. It seems like no matter how much I diet and workout, I still look like a sock stuffed full of size D batteries in every bridal gown I’ve tried on.

Talking of double Ds…

I really need a new bra.

With thoughts of scheduling a brazier fitting, down at my local M&S, I lock up the cafe and leave the premises in the evening.

I mope sadly and depressedly towards my car. Opening the door I chuck my handbag despondently into the passenger seat. After driving home I slither out of the car like a sloth with bipolar disorder heading towards meltdown. In other words, I’m like a lazy sort of frowny-faced girl. In fact, I’m so downtrodden about my weight the first thing I do upon entering the house is head straight into the kitchen. Once in there I indulge in a bit of everything from the fridge and cupboards. By the time Callum comes home in the evening I’m in the foetal position on the couch.

“Are you all right, darling?” Callum enters the sitting room.

“Noooooooooo,” I moan in anguished reply. “I ate too much.”

Parp.

“Did you just fart?”

My stomach hurts too much for me to be embarrassed about letting one loose. Nevertheless, I attempt to hold in any future bodily gas expulsions.

“No.” Comes my reply.

“Yes.” Callum says nasally as he’s pinching his nose shut. “Are you planning on sleeping here, or should I take the sofa? Because I’m definitely not sleeping anywhere near the smell of your arse tonight!”

“Oh shoosh, you.” Somehow, despite the pain in my lower intestines, I manage to pluck a cushion off the couch and throw it at him.

Callum is right though. I think it’s best if I sleep alone tonight. Unfortunately for him it means he’ll have to be the one taking the sofa. He offered. Besides, our bedroom has an en-suite bathroom that I really think I’m going to need to use tonight. All throughout the night.

Chapter 11

Diarrheal city. That’s the life I lived last night. The rumbly in my tumbly had only one similarity with Pooh, and that’s in the silly old Bear’s name.

Basically, I shat myself all night long.

I’d over done it on the junk food front. My stomach and bowels greatly disagreed with my decision to pile crap into my gut. Therefore, I had run back and forth from bed to toilet all throughout the night.

Now that it’s morning and the sun is creeping in through the window, I’m lying in my oh so familiar bed, trying to work up the energy to get out of it.

There’s simply no way I’m spending another month of my life in the sack. Well, okay so it might not have been an entire month that time when I was laid up, but it felt like just as long!

“How are you feeling, honey bunches?” Callum pads barefoot into the room.

“I’m fine!” I shout, sitting bolt upright. This does a number on my tummy, but I’m trying to ignore the fact. “I’m going for a walk!”

“A walk?” Callum looks at the non-existent watch on his wrist. “At seven in the morning?”

“Correct!” Jumping to my feet causes my head spin a bit due to head rush factors. I steady myself and head straight into the bathroom. It’s no surprise that I don’t need to use the toilet before hopping into the shower. I’m emptied out.

After a brisk cleansing under spray of water I truly feel refreshed.

“Aaahhh!” I exclaim brightly after entering the kitchen. Stretching my arms makes my bathrobe hike itself upwards under my boobs.

“Aahh, indeed,” Callum groans and leans in for a grope of breast.

“Stop that, you silly.” I slap his hand away and adjust my dressing gown. “Say good bye to these babies because they won’t be around for long.” I point at my chest and wink at my fiancé.

“What horrors do you speak of, woman?” He mocks playfully.

“Well, they won’t be entirely shrunken, but I’m fully working out and dieting as of today, so my breasts will shrink a bit.” I hope.

Callum shakes his head. “They’d better not shrink.” He grabs me by the boobs and canoodles my neck.

“Oh for goodness sake.” I return his loving kisses, but then it’s time for business. “Quickly now, coffee!” Pouring out two brews I have mine black with no sweetener and Callum stirs milk and sugar into his mug.

“Yum!”

“Don’t pretend you’re actually enjoying that rye biscuit.” My darling fiancé winks.

“No really, I honestly love the taste of losing weight!” My exuberance knows no bounds. After pigging out like… well… like a pig, yesterday, I’m ready for a detox starting from today. “I’ve got a wedding to prep for, Cal! I can’t believe I’ve been so lax in my dieting efforts.” Setting down the dry cracker I take a grateful sip of coffee. “Well, no more piggy me. I swear it.”

Callum scrunches up his facial features. “Now who have I heard say those exact words before?” He eyeballs me directly.

“Oh do shut up.” Leaning left on my stool at the kitchen counter, I nudge my jerky fiancé in the shoulder. “This time I mean it.”

“Anybody want a peanut?”

“Stop quoting from the Princess Bride!”

Callum laughs. “Oh come on, you love that film.”

“Yes, I do.” I mumble with a mouth full of dry biscuit. “But not when its words of dialogue are used against me.”

Callum rises to his feet and stretches his arms. “Well, my blueberry muffin was delicious.”

It would be. I’m the one who made the damn delicious things. But no matter. His goading won’t get to me today. Or any day for that matter! I’m a determined bride to be! I will not look like a stuffed sock come my wedding day. I will diet and exercise until there’s nothing left of my personage but a shrivelled husk.

Okay, so maybe my thoughts are wandering a bit wildly now. I want to look thin for my wedding, not skeletal.

Callum wanders into the front room and I run upstairs. Pulling on my track suit bottoms that don’t fit properly, I scowl into the full length wall mirror. When I put on a polo top and it too is an ill fit, I despair at ever going clothes shopping again. I honestly believe that I should have been born rich. My body type is shaped funny. I need a personal tailor to sew me some clothes that fit my physique perfectly. Even though Mia had taken in my clothes by two inches everywhere, I’m still not convinced they fit well.

Sighing loudly in frustration I sit on the bed and tie up my hiking boots. I’m determined to do some Malvern Hills walking today. In fact, I’m so determined that I think I might aim for the top of the Worcester Beacon. I haven’t been able to walk all the way up to the highest point of the midlands in ages. Well, today that is going to change. I’m a woman renewed, again, for the last time!

“What are you pointing at? Is there a spider up there?”

I hadn’t realised that my inner convictions led me to express myself physically. I’m standing here with a finger in the air as though I’ve just given a speech. I did give myself a mental pep talk, but Callum doesn’t need to know that.

“Um, yeah.” I reply to my nosy fiancé. “It’s just there, can’t you see it?” I don’t give him a chance to answer. “Never mind, I’m off.” Pushing past him I make my way towards the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?”

“To the Worcester Beacon.”

“Yeah right.”

“Oh ye of little faith in me!” I turn and force my hands onto my hips.

“I’ve got every faith in you, darling.” Callum edges close and wraps his arms around my middle. “It’s just the mountain’s steep incline that defies belief.”

He doesn’t think I can do it.

Pulling away from his grasp, I squint evilly up at him. “It’s not a real mountain, the Worcester Beacon is just a hill.” A hill that I can most definitely conquer.

Callum frowns in all seriousness. “You really are determined to do this today, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I tell him, matter of factly.

“Just promise me you won’t take any short cuts while you’re up there.”

“Psht! As if I’ll need to.” I wave him off with my hand and release myself from his embrace. “As a matter of fact,” I add. “I think I’ll take the long way around. You know? Starting at the back of the hill in West Malvern.”

I get a crooked grin in reply from my fiancé. His look makes me wonder what’s truly on his mind. I think I know what he’s thinking though. I don’t remember exactly how many times I’ve told him I’m going to do something, only to fail. I’m sure it’s more than a few though.

Well, this time will be different. Besides, it’s too late to take back what I’ve said. I should have waited to tell my betrothed about my Beacon hiking accomplishments after I’d scaled the heights. If I fail now he’ll think the same as he always does about me; that I have good intentions but I never follow through.

“That’s good, because it’s a flatter point for mum to start at as well.”

I had almost cleared the room when Callum uttered his final statement.

“Oh, Emily!” I hear Brenda squeal at me from the bottom of the stairs. I turn to look back at my fiancé but he’s conveniently disappeared into the loo.

***

“Oh!” Brenda shouts from the passenger seat nearly causing me to over correct the steering wheel and flip the car entirely. “I need to stop by Paige’s shop before we start up the hills, Emily.”