My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding (32 page)

“Hello?” Comes the voice from the phone. “Is that miss Gillam? This is Georgina from Mortsbaton Court. I’m sorry to have to inform you that we’re going to have to cancel your wedding plans that are scheduled for tomorrow. Please schedule your wedding at another facility. Thank you. Good bye.”

“Thank you. Good bye.” I repeat on auto pilot and shut off my phone.

I’m in the sitting room, phone in hand. One after the next call after call comes in informing me of cancellations for my wedding tomorrow that is no more.

It’s all over. Everyone has cancelled. Even some guests who are invited have phoned to say they can’t make it to my wedding or the reception.

I stare at the dancer pole just like I’d done after flipping myself off it. When my eyes become dry from so much staring, I blink. I’m now staring at the blank wall.

I’ve been meaning to get some photos or prints up onto that wall. Why haven’t I done so yet? Why do anything? Why does anything matter now? My wedding is off. I’m never going to marry the man of my dreams…

“Callum!” I scream a wretched scream the likes of which I never thought possible of my own vocal chords. Rapidly, I dial his mobile only to find it goes straight to voice mail.

I stand and throw my own phone against the stark blank wall. It collides with the white paint and makes a visible dent.

There. At least the wall isn’t completely blank any longer.

I’d forgotten Callum had said he wouldn’t be contactable by phone for the entirety of his barge stag-do.

This is beyond disastrous. Everyone in my life has more than let me down. What did I do to them all to deserve this? How could they end it all like this? Because that’s surely what they’ve done. Each and every person who has failed me today must have known that I’d end our friendship.

I guess none of them care.

They must all hate me to treat me this badly.

I wrack my brains trying to remember what I could have possibly done to upset everyone into cancelling on me like this, because there has to be a reason. A collective group of people do not all cancel on one wedding at random. It can’t be mere coincidence that everyone I know —and some who I love— would cancel so suddenly. Can it? Could I be the world’s unluckiest piece of crap on the planet?

Judging by the day’s occurrences, it would seem so.

The fact that I can’t even warn Callum not to show up at the wedding venue tomorrow actually destroys me inside. I can picture the look on his face when he arrives there tomorrow dressed in his wedding finery.

“Oh, Cal. I’m so sorry.”

And now the tears begin to flow. When my phone bleeps an incoming message I can barely manage the energy to crawl over to the device. I’m bawling like a crushed child who’s just had her favourite toy ripped from her embrace and squashed under the mean heels of her cruel older brother. I am a woman who only knows sadness.

The sorrow is heightened tenfold when I read the text message on my phone’s screen…

My parents’ flight from Spain has been cancelled and they won’t be flying over for my now non-existent wedding.

***

To be honest, I’m surprised my parents didn’t ring to say they weren’t coming of their own choice. After the day I’ve had it wouldn’t shock me at all to discover that my own parents no longer loved me.

Scrape, file, buff, saw.

I’m filing the hell out of my acrylic nails in frustration. At this rate I might just file them down completely. I might even file them off so much that my nail-beds will become exposed.

File. File. File.

Maybe if I file down past my nail-beds my fingertips will start bleeding and it will really hurt. Then I will no longer have to endure the pain that’s gripping my heart right now.

Cry. File. Sob. File. Scrape.

I’m lying in bed. Tears flow from my eyes and over my temples wetting my hair. The acrylic from my nails turns back into powder as I file away. My neck and chest are covered in acrylic powder, but I don’t care. I just continue to file off every trace of that wedding-cancelling-hairstylist Tina.

Oh yes. Even she had cancelled on me by phone.

What’s odd is that everyone who’d cancelled had done so by calling. My parents, however, had merely sent a text message. I’m not even going to question their reasons for not phoning and speaking to me properly. If I call them now and discover their flight really was avoided, rather than cancelled, I’ll lose it. I’ve already lost the plot to sadness, I don’t want to add mental breakdown to my list of awfulness that is this day from hell.

The more I think about it, the more I become convinced I know why everyone cancelled.

It’s because of my dieting and exercising. I’ve been such a pain in the arse to everyone around me lately.

Cursing, I sit up in bed and I throw the nail file at the wall. It doesn’t make a dent because the thing is too small and I’m extremely disappointed by this fact.

If only I hadn’t let my weight go up and down so much over these past few weeks. Then Lara wouldn’t have become so frustrated with all the dress fittings and re-sizing I’d insisted upon.

If only I hadn’t kept asking Paige to alter her health food menu one week, while changing it completely the next. I mean, the woman was offering the meals for free after my cafe disaster with the berserk robot. What right did I have to be so picky about what my guests would be eating? It’s only one day.

One measly little wedding day that meant the world to me, but obviously meant nothing to my supposed friends.

“Whaaaaaa!” I burst into tears all over again. I’ve forgotten how to keep my mind under control. It snaps because the pressure of sadness in my heart has become too much. “I might as well kill myself!” I scream this at the ceiling because I’ve somehow managed to roll off the bed and onto the floor where I’m now lying on my back.

Slamming both of my hands over my mouth, I cram my palms tightly down. Did I actually just yell those suicidal words? Dear me, I really have lost it. I’ve always been one for drama, but never on such a level of despair. Voicing my frustration like that really hit home.

I’m a woman unhinged by sadness and I need to get a grip before I crack.

It’s no use wiping tears off my face, because more just follow, soaking my skin. The front of my t-shirt is so drenched from crying I wouldn’t be surprised to find that my bra was wet from weeping as well.

After drawing a hot bath, I step into the tub and soak myself in the warm water.

This is the relaxation I need. This is the way to calm myself. I’m sad, yes, but I don’t want to go completely bonkers on top of that. I have no way of getting hold of Callum, and I don’t dare ring my parents. I’ve got to be able to keep my sanity, and I have to do so on my own.

It’s not easy, but I manage it somewhat. Through breathing and pleasant thoughts I’ve even stopped crying.

Picking up my Kindle off the stool beside the bath, I flick through the Amazon book store for something to read. Something that will further take my mind off today’s horror wedding cancellations.

Actually, come to think of it, maybe a good horror novel is exactly what I need.

I select a vampire eBook that is so horrifying it even has a warning at the front of the sample I’ve downloaded. The warning tells the reader that this is definitely not Twilight and that I should only read on if I’m willing to be terrified beyond belief.

I snort in disbelief. The author of this book obviously doesn’t know the terror of having one’s wedding cancelled the day before!

After reading a few chapters of the vampire novel, I’m even more convinced that the author doesn’t know real terror. The writer does know gore though. That’s all this book is filled with, it seems. It’s not scary lit, it’s just disgusting grit. Page after page screams words of bloody-this and blood-spraying-that. I can’t begin to count the number of times I’ve read about oozing entrails and disembowelments.

“Bleh.” I drop my Kindle onto the stool.

I don’t know if I should be grateful to the author of that eBook for filling my mind with such distracting gore, or if I should feel ill at the bile I’m now having to choke down.

Well, at least the warm water is soothing to my shot nerves. My eyelids close and I finally feel a sense of calm washing over me…

“Whaaaaa!” I sit up splashing water everywhere. The water has gone cold and I don’t even remember falling asleep. As I step out of the freezing bath I’m careful not to drip any water onto my Kindle. Although, I might be feeling a bit inclined to break the damn think on purpose.

After reading that blood filled horror novel I’d dreamed my wedding was back on, but just as I walked down the aisle a giant vampire crashed my wedding. He was massive in my dream and he drank the blood of all my wedding guests. What was most disturbing about my dream was that I’d done nothing to stop the carnage as my back-stabbing friends who’d cancelled were disembowelled and sucked dry of all their blood.

When I crash into bed at the end of the worst day ever to exist, I can’t help thinking that my warm bath had not stopped my brain from snapping if my horrific dream is anything to go by.

Chapter 21

Today is the day.

I sit up in bed. “I’m getting married today!”

My head feels fuzzy with happiness. I grab my compact mirror off the bedside table and peer into it.

Why are my eyes so puffy?

I poke one of my upper lids. My eyes are actually swollen shut.

Oh yeah! I’d spent the entirety of late yesterday crying because my wedding was cancelled.

I flop back onto my pillow, completely despondent.

I think I hear a far off ringing sound, but I’m too depressed to care. Somehow, I think my feet are concerned, because they’ve carried me all the way downstairs without my brain’s conscious awareness.

Ping.

A text message from Georgina reads that she’s re-booked the venue for our wedding today.

Ping.

Another text message from Tina saying she’s on her way to the venue to do my hair and nails.

Ring. Ring.

Checking my voicemail I find a dozen messages. One of them is Paige telling me with flustered words that she will be catering my reception.

Ring. Ring. An incoming call.

I now find myself answering the caller. “Hello?” My far off voice says.

“Oh my god, Em!” It’s Lara. My former best friend. “I’m so sorry! Can you ever forgive me? I’m coming over right now!”

That woman. Her name was Lara. She hung up on me. Just like yesterday. But today? What were her words on the phone just now? I don’t know. All I know is hopelessness.

I still can’t call my fiancé to tell him the bad news about the wedding. I’m numb.

Bang, bang, bang.

There’s quite a noise coming from the front door. I’ve decided to lie down on the sofa for the rest of my life though, so whoever’s out there will just have to go away.

“Em!” Lara’s head peeks in through the open window. “Open the door, Em! I’m so sorry! I’m so so so so so so soooooooorrreeeeee—”

I whip open the front door. I’m wearing my fluffy bathrobe and it flutters in the breeze.

“Oh my god, Em, your eyes!” Lara bursts into tears and throws her arms around my neck. “I’m so sorry,” she keeps saying over and over. “I’ve finished your dress alterations… I promise… I shouldn’t have cancelled on you like that… I’m so sorry…”

“So my dress is ready?”

Lara finally lets me go. “Yes! Em! It’s very ready! Your dress is perfect!”

Something registers in my mind and it’s telling me that my wedding is back on again. Perhaps I should feel something about this, but I just can’t find any emotions within me right now.

“Okay,” I mumble with a very croaky voice. “Let’s go to Mortsbaton Court.”

“Yes. Let’s!” Lara is excitable.

I, however, am numb.

I drag myself upstairs feeling heavy. Funny, I’d have thought crying myself to sleep last night would’ve enabled me to lose weight, what with all the water I’d lost through tear spillage.