Bad Bridesmaid. Portia MacIntosh

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Bad Bridesmaid - Portia MacIntosh

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need is love, and making these movies is their way of showing you just how beautiful love is and how true love conquers all. Sadly, I don’t believe a word I say. I know that every word I write comes from a dark and cynical place inside me, and the more I write, the less I’m inclined to believe in Love as a thing. It’s not a thing, it’s a marketing tool. It’s how you convince people to splash out on weddings and buy chocolate and flowers on Valentine’s Day. Thankfully the people who watch the movies written by the Pink Inc. team don’t feel the same as me, which keeps me in my flashy lad pad and my designer shoes.

      Right, back to work. So Katie has just helped Emma clean the cocktail stain off her dress.

      ‘So, they’ve cleaned the dress together in perfect silence, both just thinking about what has happened and how life as they know it is going to change. Katie is worried, not only because her best friend is about to have someone else equally as important in her life, but also because to an extent she’s going to be left behind. Emma is going to be playing house, Katie is still going to be a single girl – only now she’s doing it alone. She’s scared. Anyway, Emma sees this. She takes her hand and she says: “Katie, you mean more to me than anyone in the world. I have known you all my life and just because I am getting married, it doesn’t mean I won’t want you around any more – I need you around. Look at the way you just helped me clean my dress – granted you were the one who spilled a drink down it – but even though you were upset you helped me, no questions asked. I lean on you, and not just when I need to dry my dress under a hand dryer. Yes, I have fallen in love, but it will never compare to the love I have for you, my best friend. It may not work out between me and this guy, but you and I will be friends forever. No one can change that.’

      ‘Wow,’ Savannah gushes. ‘That’s so beautiful.’

      ‘Yeah,’ Molly agrees. ‘Really beautiful.’

      For a moment my writing partners sit and think about what I have just said. What I want to do is roll my eyes, this friends forever crap makes me throw up in my mouth every time I even think about it. Instead I force a smile and jot down my idea before I forget it – well it’s clearly an effective one. Is it hypocritical of me to write these loving and romantic tales if I don’t believe them? Of course not, I write fiction. Fiction can be whatever you want it to be. If you haven’t worked it out by now, I’m just really good at faking it.

      ‘Business or pleasure?’ an LAX employee asks me as I awkwardly rummage around in my handbag to make sure I have everything I need to fly. I’m not sure if it’s his job to ask me or if he’s just making small talk, either way I answer.

      ‘Neither,’ I reply, although this answer obviously isn’t a satisfactory one if I want to be allowed on an aeroplane. ‘My sister is getting married,’ I explain. ‘I’m going home for the wedding.’

      The man laughs and gives me a knowing smile, a smile that says: ‘Family gatherings are hell. I feel your pain, sister.’

      It’s not long until my flight now. While I wait, I suppose I should give you a little back-story (as we call it in the movie making business) so you can understand exactly why the business of my sister’s wedding will not be a pleasure. Belle and I have never really been that close. I think we were when we were kids, but as we grew up we grew apart. While I was a chubby, nerdy outcast at school, Belle was always a skinny, sporty member of the in crowd. Her friends were all exactly like her – you know how hard they try and make the different Bratz dolls look different, but at the end of the day they’re all exactly the same – massive heads, tiny bodies and huge eyes, but with different coloured hair? Well that’s what Belle and her mates were like. Despite being Belle’s sister – and me being older than her and her friends – they didn’t mind teasing me when they were all over at our house. I suppose it comes with the territory of being the uncool, podgy sister, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. They don’t pick on me any more, although I’m not sure if that comes with the territory of having loads of money and being able to get them tickets to movie premieres.

      When Belle called me up to tell me she was getting married, yes, I really did ask her if she was doing it because she was pregnant – and, yes, if I had been holding a cocktail I would have spilled it everywhere. I have only met Dan, the guy she is marrying, twice. He seemed OK, but at twenty-four years of age I think Belle is way too young to be tying the knot. Dan is twenty-four as well, and you’ve got to wonder about what’s going on inside the head of a young lad who is so keen to put his fun single days behind him so soon in life.

      The only thing that surprised me more than the fact that Belle was getting married was when she asked me if I would be her chief bridesmaid. My sister knows all too well what the new Mia is like and that includes the way I feel about weddings. I haven’t been a bridesmaid since I was a little kid (I suppose people stopped asking me when I got too chubby to look nice in photos) so I don’t really remember what it entails. Whatever it is, I know I am not the girl for the job. I asked her if I could think about it, and quicker than you could say “I do” my mum called me up and informed me that I would be calling Belle back and accepting her kind offer. The thing that bugged me was the reason why Belle asked me. I mean, we’re not close, so I can only imagine she is doing it for appearances; to have her successful sister by her side.

      Even though it sounded like my idea of hell, I finally agreed to do it, safe in the knowledge I could pop home for a couple of days, do the wedding thing and then jump back on a plane and pretend it never happened. Well, it was a nice idea while it lasted but shortly after I agreed, plans for the big day started being made – well, I say big day, it’s actually more like ten big days. I haven’t been fully briefed on the details yet, all I know is that the happy couple have rented a huge house on the beach in Cornwall so that most of the wedding party can stay there and celebrate with them. What I also know is that my boss hates me right now because we’re really busy and I have had to book over a week off instead of four days. I’m not the employee of the month at the best of times, so I’m going to have to do some major butt-kissing when I get back.

      While I am happy about not having to visit my hometown this time, I am not exactly jumping through hoops about the fact that I’ve got a twelve hour flight to London followed by a five hour train journey to the far side of Cornwall. I’m going to be knackered when I get there. Belle has planned my journey to the second, so at least I know when I arrive she and Dan will be waiting for me at the train station, ready to give me a lift to the party house so I can spend way too much time with the family I moved over five thousand miles to get away from. Oh joy.

      ***

      ‘Is this your first time flying?’

      ‘No,’ I reply. ‘Why would you ask that?’

      The young man sitting next to me nods towards my hands. I hadn’t even realised I was doing it, but I’m slowly but surely tearing up a sick bag into tiny pieces.

      ‘Oh. My sister is getting married,’ I say by way of an explanation.

      ‘So you thought you’d, what, make extra confetti?’ he teases.

      I playfully throw a handful of shredded paper at the total stranger. Thankfully he takes my gesture as intended – as a joke – and doesn’t have me manhandled off the plane by an air marshal.

      ‘I’m heading home for my little sister’s wedding. She’s twenty-four. I’m twenty-nine and I’m single.’ I stare at the stranger expectantly until he works out what is so wrong with that. It doesn’t take him very long.

      ‘Rather you than me, sweetie,’ the stranger

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