And, really, it’s not just about it being a duty, it’s also that I don’t want to miss out on anything. There’s so much happening around me, everyone is moving so fast. Marriage, houses, babies. I would feel miserable and so lonely watching it all play out on Facebook and Instagram without me. I’m ashamed to say I need to feel included. I’m afraid of being forgotten by my friends. It’s that fear of missing out –FOMO– thing the internet talked about constantly in, like, 2014. Being invited to the most important day in someone’s life means I count. I matter to them. It’s a weird friendship yardstick, proving I’m liked. And just because I know that’s silly and pathetic – and that I’m a trivial, shallow person for feeling like that – it doesn’t mean these feelings aren’t real. They still affect me.
I smile playfully at Franny. ‘Anyway, I don’t have anything else happening in my life. What else am I going to spend my money on, if not weddings?’
It’s a rhetorical question but Franny looks at me a little sadly as she says quietly, ‘Yourself?’
I get up, rolling my eyes as I turn away. I love Franny but this isn’t helpful. I have to get back to work.
Wedding Number Four:Piers and Emily, Tilsbury Park, Devon
Theme:Traditional as fuck. Morning coats and tails as far as the eye can see. Which is not actually very far because there are millions of fascinators blocking my view.
Menu:Smoked salmon starter, followed by chicken and a meringue dessert. Veggie option: stuffed red pepper with goat’s cheese.
Gift:A plush-looking toaster off the Debenhams wedding list @ £105.
Gossip:Bride found in tears just after ceremony because her ‘wedding hashtag’ wasn’t trending. She’d been asking guests to ‘build traction’ with#SheepyMarriesLamby on their social media for the previous eight months.
My bank balance:£54
7
When I arrive at the bar, Joely is telling a man in a kindly voice to ‘get back to your Lidl swamp’. She screams excitedly when she sees me and leaps out of her chair, almost whacking the hapless Lidl guy in the face as she does so. He slinks away, looking sulky in his fancy suit, back to his laughing friends.
‘Lilah!’ she says happily, encasing me in a big, soft hug. Joely gives the best hugs. OK, yes, partly it’s because she’s physically so large and cuddly, but it’s also because she does this folding you in thing. She takes your whole person into her bosom, and never does that back pat everyone else seems to lead with. You know the patting I mean? Like they’re so desperate to let you know they want the touching over as soon as possible. It’s like they’re tapping you out of a wrestling match. Really, I don’t think Joely would ever willingly be the first to exit a cuddle.
She presses my face into her incredible chest and I let it happen, thinking about nothing and just enjoying the lovely feeling. So comforting and warm. Like sinking into a giant set of bottomless pillows filled with the softest feath— Hold on, I can’t breathe.
I pull away, gasping for air, and grin at my beautiful friend. We’ve been getting closer lately, bonding over Lauren’s madness, and it’s been fun. She’s nuts, of course, but she’s also very wise. She has a way of seeing through to a problem, slicing through the bullshit. The other day I almost told her about Will’s pseudo proposal. But I feel disloyal telling her and not Lauren. Really, I should tell them both, but it never feels like the right time and Lauren has so much on her plate – she doesn’t want to hear about my dumb stuff right now.
We sit down, chatting excitedly about our week as she pours wine into my glass. Lauren is running late, like always, and Joely immediately starts complaining about her beloved cousin.
‘Do you think we really have to keep coming to these meetings every week?’ she says, exasperated. ‘Haven’t we talked about all this? Surely the endless WhatsApp chat is enough? Why is Lauren being such a demanding nightmare? We have lives too! I have an extra video to edit for my blog this week, and Calum Best has been pestering my agent for a date again, so I need to get that sorted so I can get back on theDaily Mailhomepage.’
I nod. I get it.
Not the Calum Best part – I don’t get that at all, what is she talking about? Is he even still a thing?
But I get her frustrations with Lauren. Her dramatic side has really kicked into gear in the last week or so. The texts start early and basically never end. Like, I went to bed at 1 a.m. last night, after an already long day of wedding texts, and woke up to this:
You have 17 new WhatsApp notifications
Lauren: Are you still awake? [1.07 a.m.]
Lauren: Is your phone on silent? [1.11 a.m.]
Lauren: Damn, I thought that would wake you up. [1.12 a.m.]
Lauren: Lilaaaaaaaaah, I’m worried. I think I hate my shoes. [1.22 a.m.]
Lauren: I don’t know what I like anymore. What do I like? Do I like things? What if I hate everything? [1.28 a.m.]
Lauren: What if I dyed the shoes red?! That would be so edgy and cool, right? And perfect for a Christmas/December wedding! [1.45 a.m.]
Lauren: No, it’s too Father Christmas, isn’t it? [1.57 a.m.]
Lauren: Shall I dye them?!!!! I think I’m going to do it! [2.10 a.m.]
Lauren: I have some material dye in the garage from Charlie’s tie-dye phase last year. [2.21 a.m.]
