bunny ROBOT. Jacki is the most amazing machine – which is no great surprise, given her swift and inexorable rise from catalogue model to TV soap actress nobody to household name. She is efficient and professional, and incredibly, unbelievably fond of (shudder) All Things Girly. But she’s lovely. It’s just that conversation with her is slightly unnerving, like your washing machine suddenly insisting you deserve a pedicure.
TO DO:
Actually start looking at some ceremony and reception options
Check whether Jacki has her own staff for this wedding, or whether Polka Dot are expected to plan it for her as part of our ‘publishing’ deal
Start thinking about guest list
Discuss with Dad while Mum isn’t about who we absolutely have to invite
Get Thom to ask Alan and Aileen who needs to be asked from the Sharpe branch
Do I have to invite the whole office? Does Thom?
Florist – visit local florist on high street, get rough estimates
Save the date cards – necessary?
Wedding cake – start collecting images of cakes I like from magazines (this may turn into a slightly food-porny book of cake pictures)
September 18th
Heyyyyy! Great
September 19th
Sorry, I may have slightly fallen asleep writing last night. It was such a great time, is what I think I was probably saying. Three people from Thom’s work turned up – Paul, Robert and a really sweet girl called Luisa who’s just started there as an intern. She looked about fourteen but was incredibly nice and bought us a bottle of champagne because she felt so bad for ‘crashing our party’. Susie was unbelievably drunk (having slugged most of that bottle) and started the dancing at 10pm, in which she was joined by Alice, Jim and Heidi. Someone had brought party streamers and we were all tangled up in them. Purely due to not wanting her to feel like I wasn’t in the spirit of things, I eventually joined in too, grabbing Sheila the Landlady’s hand and doing the Twist. Suse and I set that place on fire! Not literally. But we Carlows can certainly shake it. That’s all I’m saying.
At one point, Thom and I found each other in the crowd, and managed to get out into the fresh air together.
Thom: This all seems like good fun, doesn’t it.
Me: Are we really doing this wedding thing?
Thom: Looks like it.
Me: I’m really happy.
Thom: Me too. I’m glad you said yes. If you hadn’t, I’d have had to go with my backup girl. And she isn’t too bright. [taps head]
Me: You are so romantic.
Thom: [picking me up, hugging me really tight]
Me: Hulk happy.
Thom: Yeah, I suppose Hulk happy. And if you buy me a drink I’ll show you how easy I am when we get home.
God, I ache today. Hulk dance.
September 25th
I haven’t spoken face to face with Eve since I told her about the engagement – I thought she took it well (for her), but she didn’t take it well enough to make it to the party (that hot date was a success, apparently). But I don’t blame her. Weddings are never particularly heart-warming when yours is still broken, and I know she isn’t really over Louis (soul of a cockroach, hair of a god); they’d been together for three years by the time she finally woke up and realised love doesn’t mean trying to make your loved one go completely mental with jealousy. She dumped him on her birthday last year when he turned up to her party with a drunk girl on his arm. God, he was good looking, though.
When she rang yesterday asking if I was free at the weekend, I had to tell her we had plans at Susie’s. But she was eager to see us all, and asked if she could tag along and bring her new squeeze, the date she’d missed our party for; someone she’d met through her work as a fast-rising star in the charity world. Eve’s so utterly charming that although she started as an intern at her charity for London’s vulnerable people only two years ago, she’s rocketed up the ladder and now has her own assistant (who she says is so useless it’s more of a curse than a blessing), business cards, and even gets to travel for work (mainly to other UK cities, admittedly).
Susie knows her of old, and it was only a barbecue, so there we were: huddled around the grill in Susie’s back garden with Susie’s lovely friends Maggie and Eric, trying to pretend summer hadn’t entirely given up on us, as Suse tried to remember which country Pete was in today. Then Eve arrived, carrying a giant bunch of peonies for Susie in one arm and her date on the other. When she pulled him into the back garden, my mouth fell open, and when I swung my gaze towards Thom, his had done exactly the same. Eve’s new boyfriend – oh, how does she find them – was the very man we had witnessed proposing in Bath. Steve. Jilted Steve. Dr No. The Refused. How was that possible? How could fate be so kind/unkind as to bring him to us again? We just goggled at him for a while, but Steve, thank God, had no idea we’d seen him at the site of his knock-back. By his fifth bottle of beer, however, it was clear that Jen’s rejection had caused him to jettison his social skills entirely. Susie and Maggie were really enjoying him in a car-crash sort of way until the conversation took a fatal turn.
Steve: That’s all well and good, guys, but you can’t really trust women, can you? I mean, I’m sure you had your reasons, Eric, but you can’t say that you don’t realise what a huge mistake it was to marry. Every day, right? [roars with manic laughter]
Eric: Actually, Steve—
Steve: You know it! All women are liars, cheats and deceivers. All they want is to grind a man under their heel, grind him down … break him … [sobbing]
Even Eve had the sense to look uncomfortable by that point, tearing herself away from an ill-at-ease Thom who she’d been talking to at the edge of the garden (had she been backing out of bridesmaiding?). She dragged Steve into the kitchen to ‘help her with drinks’ and they left without sticking more than a goodbye arm back in the garden. Susie told Lily and Edward that it was worth remembering that actually, women were particularly brilliant, and the Twins responded by rote: ‘Gene Tierney, Aung San Suu Kyi, Marie Stopes and Marie Curie.’ Susie patted them both on the head and gave them a fruit kebab. Something tells me we won’t be seeing Steve again.
September 29th
Further emails with Jacki have confirmed that she has all her own staff for the wedding – the venue is booked, the dress is designed, the food arranged and even the hen party organised. From the little I’ve had to do with her, I’m not remotely surprised. But I am surprised to discover how much I like her: she’s not only incredibly professional and sweet, but pretty funny too.
We had this correspondence yesterday:
From: Carlow, Kiki
To: Jacki Jones
Subject: Engagement?
Hi Jacki,
Will you be happy to include details of how you and Leon got engaged in the book?
