encouraging Holly to try her first cigarette and can of cider, and the one to get Holly to stay out until six. even though she had work the next day. Holly would always wake up with a hangover from hell when she went out with Kim, that was a given. There had never been a dull moment with Kim around and that’s why Holly had always loved her. Holly had always been the organized, tidy and sensible one , whereas Kim was much more laid-back, rarely thinking about the consequences of her actions.
Holly adored Kim, they would always be the best of friends, but she couldn’t help but miss the spontaneity she’d had before having children, and she hoped that it was just because it was the first night that she was taking it easy.
‘You sure you won’t come out?’ Holly asked hopefully, already knowing the answer.
Kim flapped her hand in Holly’s direction. ‘No, you go though. Don’t miss out just because of me.’
‘Are you certain you don’t want me to stay in with you?’ Holly offered kindly. She didn’t want to stay in and had already told Emma she would go out, but she knew she should offer like a good friend would. Holly would do anything for her best friend; so if Kim had wanted her to stay in, watch a film and order room service, she would have done. She honestly couldn’t believe that Kim didn’t want to go out and meet the others though.
‘No, I promise it’s fine,’ Kim said, turning to her and smiling. ‘I’ll probably be snoring as soon as my head hits the pillow.’
Holly nodded, shooting Kim a rueful smile.
‘I wonder how Andy will cope with the kids all alone,’ Kim said, her mind clearly still back home. ‘I’ll call him as soon as I wake up tomorrow and check he’s okay. I’m sure he won’t go wrong, seeing as I pretty much left him instructions on every little thing, will he?’
Kim just couldn’t seem to relax and switch off like Holly could.
‘He’ll be fine. Andy’s such a good dad,’ Holly reassured her. ‘I can’t imagine him ever doing anything wrong.’
Kim smiled, but Holly noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Assuming she was tired, she ignored it, and went to have a shower before getting ready to go out.
Emma couldn’t believe this was the week she was getting married. She was actually going to be Charlie’s wife. She still felt far too young to be doing something so grown up, despite being thirty-three. It was strange how her body just kept getting older, even though her brain still didn’t feel any different from when she was twenty-one. It was scary and she really wished that time would just slow down.
It had been Emma’s decision to marry in Vegas and as she glanced out of her balcony at the lively strip and the vibrant colours from the hotels, she felt it was the right choice. There was so much to do and see and she knew that all her guests were going to have fun. Everyone had made such a big effort to get all the way there; it was important to Emma that they enjoyed it. It was bright and sunny too, with temperatures in the high thirties; there definitely wasn’t going to be any worry about it raining on her wedding day. Despite being so hot outside, it was never far to escape the heat and cool down in the air-conditioned hotels; it went from one extreme to another.
Emma had never wanted a huge white wedding. She hardly spoke to her parents who had retired and moved to Gran Canaria. She wasn’t particularly surprised when her mother told her on the phone there was no way they could travel all that way due to her father’s arthritis, even for their only daughter. As soon as Emma had got herself a job and been able to afford to rent an apartment, it had seemed like they couldn’t wait to get away and move abroad.
‘The sun will do your father’s joints the world of good,’ Emma recalled her mother saying. ‘You can come visit whenever you want.’
Emma would only see them if she made the effort though; her parents hadn’t once been back to the UK since they moved and Emma couldn’t deny that it hurt. How could they care so little about their only child?
Emma didn’t have a large family that wanted to see her get married. Not that she would have wanted anything fancy anyway. Despite what people thought of her due to her career posting pictures of herself, she actually hated all the attention. When she went to university, she had purposely picked courses where she wouldn’t have to do presentations; the thought of everyone staring at her was enough to make her palms go clammy and her stomach knot with nerves. A quick, low-key wedding was much more her style. Less pressure. She’d only been with Charlie for two years and hadn’t wanted the hassle of planning her big day for months and months on end. Truth be told, the plan was to just get the wedding over with and start trying for a baby. All Emma really longed for was a family of her own. It was strange – she always thought she’d be married with a few children by now. She wasn’t so bothered about the marriage part, but not having children was unthinkable for Emma. Emma adored children and imagined there was no way in the world she would ever leave them and move country, even when they had grown up. Her own mother had left it late in life, having a baby at forty-three, having had a successful career as a solicitor. Her parents were always so serious and strict. Holidays were no fun, she had nobody to swap clothes with and she could never join in when her friends complained about being bossed around by their elder siblings. She would have loved to have been bossed around. She wouldn’t have cared if her sister took her shoes and never gave them back. It would have beat being alone all the time.
Emma wanted to have at least two children and as much as she hated to say it, she did worry slightly that she might have issues getting pregnant if she left it any later. A woman’s fertility was supposed to halve by thirty-five, and that was only a couple of years away. Her friend, Kirsty, had recently had to go through IVF, the reason she wasn’t able to make the wedding, and Emma’s cousin’s wife, Lisa, had also just announced she’d had a second failed round of fertility treatment; it seemed to be coming more and more common for women to get struggle to pregnant. She really hoped it would happen easily for her, although she’d already decided that if it didn’t, she’d love to adopt. There was nothing wrong with it, but she really didn’t want to be a first-time mother in her forties like her mother. She’d always wanted to be a fun, energetic mother. She imagined going cycling in the park with her children. She didn’t want to be one of those mothers who didn’t understand the latest app her children were using. She didn’t want her kids to snigger when she asked them how to do something online. Emma wanted to be young enough to still be a fairly cool parent.
Emma applied some lip gloss and slipped on a sparkly, strappy silver dress. She ran her fingers across the textured fabric of the dress, which moulded perfectly to her slender figure. She was down to a size eight now. If someone had told her three years ago when she was struggling to get into a size eighteen she would be buying a size eight wedding dress, she would have laughed at them. She wasn’t one of those women who pretended she was were happier being larger; she would always have preferred to be slimmer, but the truth was, Emma had just been happy enjoying life and her weight crept up over the years. She loved food. She adored all things bad for her, laden with calories and sugar, and often found herself polishing off a bottle of wine or two after work several times a week. If she wanted to drink a litre bottle of coke, if that was what she’d fancied, she didn’t think twice about it. A couple of chocolate doughnuts after lunch? No problem. She hadn’t been hurting anyone, had she? She couldn’t deny that she’d had low self-esteem and the problem was, when she felt down about herself, she ate to make herself feel better. It had been a vicious cycle. She certainly hadn’t
