Read Online The Bridesmaid Pact by Julia Williams - Free Book Online
Authors: Julia Williams
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was the one who brought the subject of babies up, and when I mentioned my weight, he just laughed me to scorn and said he’d love me however fat I got.
Today, for the first time in a long time, I felt the same dizzying intoxication that I’d felt when we’d started to plan our family. A crack of light was shining in the dark – it wasn’t much, but it was something to hold on to.
‘You seem very happy today,’ Mel our receptionist said as I sailed jauntily past her, whistling. I never ever whistle.
‘Well, spring is in the air, and all that jazz,’ I said, which is uncharacteristically chatty of me. Usually I barely say anything to Mel or anyone else at work unless I have to. It’s the only way I can keep a tight lid on the things threatening to explode out of my head.
I breezed to my desk and sat down and started ploughing through my invoice tray. I love my work in credit control. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but I enjoy the balancing act of chasing down debtors and holding off creditors, thereby ensuring that no one ever owes us money, but we invariably owe other people money.
I was so engrossed in my work, I tuned out the sound of my mobile ringing in my handbag for a minute. I don’toften get personal phone calls at work. Matt’s generally the only person to ring me during the day.
I rooted around in my bag and eventually found the phone, which had inevitably wormed its way to the bottom of my bag. As I picked it up, the phone went dead. Typical. I flicked onto missed calls. It wasn’t a number I recognized. I rang it back.
‘Hi,’ I said tentatively, ‘I think you just called me?’
‘Beth?’ I was shocked to hear Caz’s voice. I hadn’t seen her since Doris’s hen weekend, over a fortnight earlier. I didn’t even know she had my number. ‘I hope you don’t mind, I cadged your number off Doris.’
Caz sounded different. Uncertain. Awkward. Most un-Cazlike.
‘Only, I was wondering – if you’d – well, would you mind meeting up for a drink sometime?’
I was stunned. OK, we’d had a nice time when we were away, but still. I hadn’t spent any time alone with Caz for at least five years. Why would she suddenly want to talk to me now?
‘Look, I’ll understand if you say no,’ Caz continued. ‘It’s just that it was so nice meeting you again in Paris. I’d like to catch up properly if you’d like.’
She sounded so tentative and unsure, something crumbled inside me. I had a sudden flashback to the way she was at primary school, just when we’d all started to be friends. Caz was always angry and spoiling for a fight, but we grew to realize that that aggression hid a vulnerability that wasn’t on public display. But now she’d been defensive with us all for so long, I’d forgotten how vulnerable she was underneath.
I took a deep breath.
‘Of course, that would be great,’ I said. ‘When are you free?’
‘This feels…odd,’ Caz said as she faced me over a glass of spritzer in a bar in Soho. Caz always went drinking in Soho, I remembered. I never did. If I drank anywhere it was in a pub round the corner from work in Camden High Street before taking the Northern Line home. I rarely ventured into the West End these days.
‘You’re not drinking?’ Caz said, glancing significantly at my orange juice.
‘I always leave my car at the station,’ I fibbed. There was never anywhere to park at the station, but I was relying on Caz’s ignorance about life in the suburbs for her not to have guessed that. I was hazarding a guess that Caz still lived as close to town as she could. She always was a bright-lights, big-city kind of girl, unlike stay-at-home small-town me. Last I’d heard, she had a flat Islington way, which always seemed glamorous to me.
‘So, how are things?’ Caz said. ‘I mean, I know we chatted that weekend, but it wasn’t like we did much one to one stuff. Tell me about yourself.’
‘Not much to tell,’ I said. ‘I like my job. Matt and I
Today, for the first time in a long time, I felt the same dizzying intoxication that I’d felt when we’d started to plan our family. A crack of light was shining in the dark – it wasn’t much, but it was something to hold on to.
‘You seem very happy today,’ Mel our receptionist said as I sailed jauntily past her, whistling. I never ever whistle.
‘Well, spring is in the air, and all that jazz,’ I said, which is uncharacteristically chatty of me. Usually I barely say anything to Mel or anyone else at work unless I have to. It’s the only way I can keep a tight lid on the things threatening to explode out of my head.
I breezed to my desk and sat down and started ploughing through my invoice tray. I love my work in credit control. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but I enjoy the balancing act of chasing down debtors and holding off creditors, thereby ensuring that no one ever owes us money, but we invariably owe other people money.
I was so engrossed in my work, I tuned out the sound of my mobile ringing in my handbag for a minute. I don’toften get personal phone calls at work. Matt’s generally the only person to ring me during the day.
I rooted around in my bag and eventually found the phone, which had inevitably wormed its way to the bottom of my bag. As I picked it up, the phone went dead. Typical. I flicked onto missed calls. It wasn’t a number I recognized. I rang it back.
‘Hi,’ I said tentatively, ‘I think you just called me?’
‘Beth?’ I was shocked to hear Caz’s voice. I hadn’t seen her since Doris’s hen weekend, over a fortnight earlier. I didn’t even know she had my number. ‘I hope you don’t mind, I cadged your number off Doris.’
Caz sounded different. Uncertain. Awkward. Most un-Cazlike.
‘Only, I was wondering – if you’d – well, would you mind meeting up for a drink sometime?’
I was stunned. OK, we’d had a nice time when we were away, but still. I hadn’t spent any time alone with Caz for at least five years. Why would she suddenly want to talk to me now?
‘Look, I’ll understand if you say no,’ Caz continued. ‘It’s just that it was so nice meeting you again in Paris. I’d like to catch up properly if you’d like.’
She sounded so tentative and unsure, something crumbled inside me. I had a sudden flashback to the way she was at primary school, just when we’d all started to be friends. Caz was always angry and spoiling for a fight, but we grew to realize that that aggression hid a vulnerability that wasn’t on public display. But now she’d been defensive with us all for so long, I’d forgotten how vulnerable she was underneath.
I took a deep breath.
‘Of course, that would be great,’ I said. ‘When are you free?’
‘This feels…odd,’ Caz said as she faced me over a glass of spritzer in a bar in Soho. Caz always went drinking in Soho, I remembered. I never did. If I drank anywhere it was in a pub round the corner from work in Camden High Street before taking the Northern Line home. I rarely ventured into the West End these days.
‘You’re not drinking?’ Caz said, glancing significantly at my orange juice.
‘I always leave my car at the station,’ I fibbed. There was never anywhere to park at the station, but I was relying on Caz’s ignorance about life in the suburbs for her not to have guessed that. I was hazarding a guess that Caz still lived as close to town as she could. She always was a bright-lights, big-city kind of girl, unlike stay-at-home small-town me. Last I’d heard, she had a flat Islington way, which always seemed glamorous to me.
‘So, how are things?’ Caz said. ‘I mean, I know we chatted that weekend, but it wasn’t like we did much one to one stuff. Tell me about yourself.’
‘Not much to tell,’ I said. ‘I like my job. Matt and I
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