Chasing the Sun: The laugh-out-loud summer romance you need on your holiday!. Katy Colins
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except I was struggling to concentrate. What did she mean, Jimmy had gone? I knew we’d been chatting before about how stressed she was over the wedding and how some of her ideas were a little – well, a lot – farcical, but this was serious. Super serious. I felt this scratching at the back of my mind as what I refused to believe wouldn’t stay restrained. It had happened again. I knew only too well the pain, humiliation and heartache of being jilted, and now it was happening to my best friend.
‘Excuse me, do you mind if I just …’ I picked up a glass of water from the table in front of me and gulped it back in one, feeling Kelli’s confused eyes trained on me. ‘Something in my throat,’ I laughed lightly, and tried to get back on track with what I was saying.
The rest of the pitch went by without a problem or interruption, and thankfully Kelli took centre stage, doing an excellent job in wrapping it up. I felt like I was going through the motions as I was desperate to get out of this stuffy room and speak to Shelley. It had taken all my concentration to stick to our script, answer their questions and keep my head in the game, when all I could think was how heartbroken and sick I’d felt when my ex-fiancé, Alex, had left me. She must be beside herself.
‘Excellent, well, I think we have everything we need for now. We are very keen to get things up and running as soon as possible, so we’ll call you tomorrow afternoon with our decision.’ The deep, monotone voice of the man opposite pulled me from my thoughts.
‘Thank you so much for your time, and apologies again for my phone.’ I blushed and shook their hands, giving the green-eyed lady an overly officious smile as Kelli quickly passed out our business cards. I kept that smile fixed rigidly to my face until we were back in the plush corridor waiting to be escorted to reception.
‘I’ll be two minutes, just nipping to the loo!’ I hurriedly told Kelli, before rushing into the bathroom.
I clocked my face in the brightly lit mirrors; all the colour had been washed from my skin and the lipstick that I’d patiently applied, matching lip liner and all, had been absent-mindedly chewed off. I shut the door of one of the stalls, sat on the closed toilet seat and pressed FaceTime; within seconds, Shelley’s face filled most of the screen.
‘Hey! What’s happened?’ I garbled, taking in her appearance and feeling that familiar sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. Dark, heavy bags sagged underneath her bloodshot eyes, stringy strands of dull blonde hair were stuck to her frowning forehead, and a cluster of angry spots lined her chin. Shelley shook her head. That’s when I realised that in her sleep-deprived-looking eyes were tears threatening to spill.
Oh God, it was true, Jimmy had left her. The wedding was off. She’d been jilted before her big day, just like I had.
She started to sob loudly.
‘Shelley! Oh hun, please stop crying. Tell me what’s going on.’
She looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks, judging from her ghostly pale skin and the trembling hands that wiped at the snot from the tip of her nose.
‘It’s … it’s …’ She grabbed a tissue from somewhere off screen and loudly blew into it. ‘It’s Jimmy. He’s gone.’
A cold chill ran up my spine. ‘But why? What’s happened? How could he do this to you?’
Shelley shook her head and grabbed another tissue to dab at her eyes, leaving white flakes of Kleenex on her sallow cheeks. ‘We’ve had a row. A huge row!’
They never rowed.
‘A row about what?’
‘The wedding, yet again.’ She tried to catch her breath. ‘He told me that he hates the table centres I’ve picked out and that he really doesn’t want us to have a photo booth, even though I told him that this was the one thing I wanted.’ With that, she was off again, sniffing and wiping her snotty nose.
‘Wait.’ I paused, trying to understand correctly. ‘Table centres and photo booths?’ I repeated slowly, just to make sure I’d heard her. These two innocent things were the reason that her patient and loving fiancé had dumped her and called off their wedding? I didn’t get it.
‘Yes! But that was just the start. I feel like he’s not supporting me with the whole thing. I feel so stressed out. I mean just look at me, Georgia. LOOK AT ME!’
I winced and hoped the quality of this call wasn’t good enough for her to see my reaction.
‘I need about a year of sleep. I’ve never felt so stressed out before. If it’s not wedding planning, it’s managing everyone’s expectations, treading carefully between the views of his mum and my mum. Oh my God, we’ve got less than a fortnight to go and there’s still so much to do, it’s just a complete nightmare!’
I pinched the bridge of my nose, still trying to make sense of it all. ‘Hang on – so the wedding is still on?’
She jolted back in her chair, looking confused. ‘Of course. Why? You’re still coming, aren’t you? Oh God, don’t tell me there’s been a problem with your flight. I knew you should have come out here earlier!’ she wailed.
‘So where has Jimmy gone? You said that he’d gone?’ I asked, through slightly gritted teeth.
‘He’s gone to see about getting a photo booth, like I asked him to do weeks ago.’
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was desperate to bark that she could have ruined a really important meeting for me, but judging by how on edge she seemed, it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t her fault; I was the one who should have turned my phone to silent and not jumped to conclusions, remembering that she’d been struck down with a case of bridezillaitis meaning rational decisions were few and far between. I sighed and tried to be the supportive best friend, grateful that she hadn’t suffered the same fate I had.
‘Why don’t you just take a break from it all for a bit?’ I said soothingly. ‘Then we’ve got our hen-do road trip to look forward to!’
Originally, Shelley had insisted that she didn’t need a hen do, despite me reasoning that with all the stress she felt she was under, a night out to let her hair down was exactly what she needed. Then one day, out of the blue, she’d announced that she wanted us to go on a road trip. She’d suggested starting in Melbourne and ending in Adelaide. We’d take a few days to drive up the coast, stopping at cool little beaches and quaint coastal towns as a sort of hen-do/pre-wedding relax time. She was then further insistent that she would plan out the exact route, ignoring my offer to help.
‘It can’t come soon enough.’ She’d caught her breath now and seemed a lot brighter as she was back on her favourite topic of conversation.
‘You know, I really wish you’d let me help you organise that; you need to let others in to take some of the burden off you doing it all.’
She wafted her hand at the screen. ‘It made sense for me to plan the route, being an Aussie and all, plus Cara has helped.’ Cara was a wannabe pro-wedding planner by the sounds of it. She was only trying to help, but whenever I’d mentioned ideas they never seemed to be as good as her suggestions. ‘I’m leaving the fun festivities up to you though!’
‘Don’t you worry about that.’ I’d already stocked up on everything and anything penis-shaped as hen-do props.
‘God, Georgia, there’s so much to do and so little time to do it.’ She shook her head skywards, as if hoping for divine intervention to help her with making favours and finalising seating plans.
‘Well, maybe explain to Jimmy how much you’d appreciate his help. A job shared is a job halved, or whatever that saying is?’
She sniffed. ‘He is good, well, most of the time.’ She plastered on a smile that was more like the Shelley I knew. ‘Sorry, Georgia, for just unloading then!’
I smiled kindly, hoping that her mini freak-out hadn’t messed up our pitch. ‘Hey, that’s what I’m here for.’