I Heart London. Lindsey Kelk
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she’s going to love me so much, she’ll be pushing you back on that plane. Back to New York, back to the magazine, back to all your friends and, like it or not, I’m going to marry your ass.’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ I said, trying to maintain my grumpy face, but it was hard when he was sitting there making sense and being adorable.
‘So, list of reasons to be cheerful?’ He squeezed my hand tightly. ‘You’re gonna see your mom and stop beating yourself up. You get to see Louisa and the baby. You get to see me being adorable with a baby. Your magazine is gonna kick ass and we get to go on a trip to London. I think that’s pretty cool. I’m excited.’
There were a million good reasons to marry Alex Reid, but one of the best was his ability to talk sense and put a smile on my face when I couldn’t see the lovely wood for the shitty trees.
‘And if you don’t tell me you’re excited, I’m going to drag you out of that bath and throw you into the East River,’ he declared.
‘You’re all talk, Reid.’ I shuffled further into the bath, further under the bubbles.
‘Is that right?’ He leapt to his feet, all six-foot-something in skintight jeans and a battered old black T-shirt. ‘You’re asking for trouble now.’
‘Fuck off and put the kettle on,’ I yawned. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’
‘That does it. Get your ass out the bath and put the kettle on yourself.’
Without warning, he leaned over into the bath and picked me up. I reached up and grabbed around his neck instinctively, half the bath water following me out.
‘Alex, put me down,’ I squealed, dripping wet and completely and utterly naked. ‘Put me back in the bath!’
‘No way.’ He held me tightly, so much stronger than he had any right to be, and ducked my flailing, sodden limbs. ‘That’s enough sulking in the bath for one day. It’s time you made my dinner, woman.’
I couldn’t argue for laughing, and, despite slipperiness, couldn’t seem to wriggle away, so I let him carry me out of the bathroom, water dripping behind us, and throw me down on the bed.
‘So we’re agreed?’ Alex asked, peeling off his piss-wet T-shirt and tossing it at me. ‘You’re going to stop being a dumbass?’
‘Only if you get that bloody kettle on and clean up the bathroom floor,’ I retaliated, finally getting my breath back.
‘I knew marrying you was going to be a mistake.’ He flipped me his middle finger and walked out of the bedroom. I sat on the bed, holding his T-shirt, then heard the kitchen tap followed by the click of the kettle. I smiled.
Things were probably going to be OK.
Over the next couple of days, due to Alex’s enthusiasm and in spite of my mother’s, I started to get excited about the idea of going home. In between frantic spreadsheet sessions in the office, I’d find myself fantasizing about sausage rolls or imagining a crazed rampage through the Marks & Spencer lingerie department. No one made knickers like M&S. And the more I thought about it, the more excited I was to take Alex with me. He was going to be my good-luck charm. After all, he was right − I had changed, and it wasn’t like I would regress in the space of a couple of days to the same old mousey, housebound Angela whose idea of an exciting night out was a turn round Asda. We would go to London, I would parade him around like the show pony that he was and then we would come home. With enough bags of Monster Munch to warrant the purchase of a new suitcase. Or two.
When Saturday morning rolled around, I finally felt like myself again. There was a bounce in my step and considerably less need for Touche Éclat as I prepared for brunch with the girls. Jenny had been quiet all week, ignoring texts and emails, but according to Erin she’d got her shit together in the office, at least. Every day this week, she’d been on time, awake, seemingly sober and, most importantly of all, appropriately attired. Not only could no one see her underwear, but said underwear was covered by designer clothing befitting a label whore of Jenny’s standing. I was relieved. I wasn’t ecstatic that she was dodging my calls, but I was happy that she was at least functioning. And as a reward, today we were going to sit down with her in a public place, feed her full of scrambled eggs and suggest she get help moving on from Jeff. And hope she didn’t punch me in the face.
I’d chosen a heavily patterned Marc by Marc Jacobs shift dress just in case she decided to launch her Eggs Benedict in my direction and had kept my make-up to a minimum. Nothing that couldn’t be patched up while sobbing in a public bathroom. With one last deep breath and a quick practice of my resolved face in the mirror, I kissed a sleeping Alex goodbye and headed out to the train. Before we could stage our Lopez arse-kicking, Sadie and Erin had asked me to meet them all up town for my ‘surprise’. I wasn’t super-excited, mainly because it added thirty minutes to my journey and that meant thirty minutes’ less sleep on a weekend morning. Plus, while I always told people I loved surprises, what I really loved was someone planning a surprise and then me finding out what it was before it happened. I was something of a spoilsport.
The entire week had been warmer than it needed to be and my deodorant was being sorely tested by the time I emerged on 77th and Lex. I was hungry. I was stressed. I was ready for brunch. What I was not ready for was two giddy blondes, one tall and skinny, the other short and round, humming with excitement outside a big, boring corporate building. The second Sadie spotted me, she started leaping up and down and squealing. This, in my experience, was never a good sign. She was either drunk or high or drunk and high, and I wasn’t mentally prepared to deal with any of those things without a belly full of bacon. Sadie was Jenny’s roommate. My replacement. My six foot, blonde, beautiful, genuinely had her photo taken for money model replacement. But that fact didn’t bother me nearly as much as the fact that Jenny wasn’t with her.
‘Morning,’ I frowned, looking to Erin for some sense. I got nothing. Instead I was bundled into a giant hug, made a little difficult by the bump, but this was one hell of a committed hug. ‘What are we celebrating? Is Jenny sober?’
‘Jenny isn’t here yet.’ Erin broke the hug and brushed my hair behind my ears. ‘But she’s on her way.’
‘We have to go in before we’re late,’ Sadie said, giving me a smile so wide and bright I had to take a step back. I hated models. ‘I am so freaking excited.’
‘Excited about what?’ I looked around, trying to work out what had them so dizzy. If I didn’t find something that would stop my stomach from rumbling in the next seven seconds, I would be snatching a bagel out of the hand of the very next passer-by.
‘Oh, honey, we have a surprise for you.’ Erin took hold of my arm and led me through the doors of the office building and straight into a lift. ‘Sadie and I were talking, and we think it’s high time you got your mind set on this wedding of yours.’
I didn’t know what alarmed me more − the thought of Sadie and Erin having a meeting of minds or the fact that there had apparently been an Angela Clark Wedding Summit without Angela Clark.
‘So we decided to hurry you up a little.’ Her eyes sparkled brighter than my engagement ring.
‘Just to give you a little inspiration.’ Sadie dug her hands into her jeans pockets and tossed her honey-coloured ponytail over one shoulder.
The lift doors opened before I could wonder any longer and I was greeted with three words that simultaneously made my heart swell with joy and put the fear of God into my soul. Vera Wang Bridal.
‘Oh no,’ I whispered.
‘Hell yes,’ Sadie responded, pushing me out of the lift. ‘Now, let’s get your ass into a wedding dress.’
And suddenly I was incredibly thankful for the fact I hadn’t had breakfast.
Ten minutes later, the three of us were perched on silk-covered clouds, masquerading as overstuffed sofas, in a giant dressing room while a very smiley, very enthusiastic assistant named Charise brought in dress after dress