How To Lose Weight And Alienate People. Ollie Quain

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СКАЧАТЬ rock, Dels. So how did James propose? Did he get down on one knee?’

      ‘Eventually. But there was a bit of a build-up.’ She grins. ‘He asked me on the final leg of our trek through the Himalayas. Funny thing was I had been in a strop with him that day, because after breakfast he pelted off at a fast pace and left me with the dawdlers. But as dusk came and the peak came into view I could see everyone in the front pack holding up a massive sign with the lyrics of “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” followed by MARRY ME, ADELE!’ Then as I made my final climb to the top, James got in position and everyone serenaded me with the whole song. How romantic is that? No prizes for guessing what retro classic I’m walking up the aisle to.’

      ‘“Smack My Bitch Up” by The Prodigy?’

      She punches me in the shoulder a little harder than is necessary. ‘I’m obviously having “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell.’

      ‘I was only mucking about. Come here, you …’ I give her another hug. ‘Congratulations, Dels, you’re getting married!’

      ‘Yes, I am. I am engaged. I am going to get … maaaaaaaaaarried!’ she screeches, directly into my left ear. ‘Married. Married. Me? Me! Getting MARRIEEEEEEEEEED!’

      I jump back. ‘Ouch, volume!’

      ‘Eek, sorry …’ Her eyes glaze over as she reties her scarf. ‘I guess it’s still sinking in.’

      ‘Of course, it is. We should go out and celebrate.’

      She fans her cheeks with her hands, and watches as her ring glints in the light. ‘Not tonight, James and I are having supper with my parents … to tell them our news. We need to visit James’ foster family too, but they live in Leeds.’ She says this as if it would be more difficult to arrange a couple of days in the North of England than one of her month-long treks across another continent. ‘We’ll have to get something in the diary soon. God, there is so much to organise …’

      As Adele chatters away I am distracted by Monday appearing in the doorway. He stares at me in utter bewilderment. Clearly, having heard me get home ten minutes ago he is now wondering why the hell I am not preparing his tea. If he owned a wristwatch he would be tapping it with a single claw. I tell Adele to come and talk to me in the kitchen.

      She pads after me. ‘Anyway, if we’re aiming for a Christmas do, I’ll need to step on the gas to arrange everything in time. Twenty-four weeks is nothing.’

      ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine, Dels. Bob Geldof organised Live Aid in less than that. At least you won’t have the added hassle of trying to perfect the most ambitious international satellite television link-up ever for a global audience of four hundred million.’

      ‘Very funny. I’m certainly going to need to be focused,’ she says, pouring herself a mug of her stinky brew. ‘On the plane yesterday, I had already come up with the idea of a winter wonderland theme … possibly at Burn’s … Luke could DJ … but we’d also have world music to encapsulate mine and James’ love of travelling … and possibly some sort of tribal entertainment. That was before the cabin crew had finished their safety demonstration. We hadn’t even taken off!’ She giggles, but a little uneasily. ‘Joking aside, Vivian, do you think ethnic drumming whilst canapés are being served is too much?’

      I laugh and suck in a sharp intake of breath. ‘I’d be very careful with bongos, Dels. They really are the Nicki Minaj of the percussion world – quite fun for five minutes but they’ll do your head in any longer than that.’ I get a serving of organic goose and venison chunks in gravy out of the cupboard.

      ‘Ha! Okay, no bongos.’

      ‘Or children,’ I add. ‘Too distracting, noisy, messy, demanding and unpredictable.’

      ‘And an added expense.’ Adele nods. ‘Thank you, Vivian. That’s exactly the sort of solid advice I will be needing from my chief – and only – bridesmaid.’

      I stop peeling open the sachet. From between my legs, Monday looks up at me and mews, his face a picture of panic and confusion. I stare at the slimy cat food for a few seconds then return to removing the foil and scraping the contents into his bowl. I don’t put it down on the floor, though, because then I will have to turn round and react to what Adele has just said.

      ‘You heard right, by the way,’ she says. ‘I did just ask you to be my bridesmaid. Well, I-asked-you-slash-told-you.’

      I half twist round. ‘Oh, Dels, that’s so …’

      ‘So?’

      Monday mews again. I put his food down on the floor and immediately his distress signal turns into a joyous high-pitched chirrup, all his years of experience informing him how tremendous the next few minutes are going to be. I stand up and turn to face Adele properly. She smiles at me.

      ‘It’s all right, Vivian. I know what you’re thinking, and quite rightly so. You’re thinking I’ve gone back on that deal we loosely made …’

      ‘Erm, I think you’ll find we shook on it. We said that—’

      ‘I know what we said,’ she interrupts. ‘We said that after the age of twenty-nine, if either of us got married we would never do all that following-each-other-up-the-aisle, telling-each-other-what-to-wear nonsense, because being a bridesmaid …’ I wince as she says the word again, ‘… in your thirties is a bit embarrassing.’

      ‘A bit? Dels, they’ve even made a blockbuster movie about how embarrassing it is since we had that conversation. The agreement was that we help each other organise everything; hen do, dress, venue, etc., but we’re not officially one of them. I’ll do anything else you want me to that wasn’t on that list too – within reason. I’ll even do a reading from the Bible.’

      ‘Don’t be silly, you don’t believe in God.’

      ‘Neither do you and you’re the one wanting to get married in a church.’

      She giggles. (I don’t.) ‘That’s not the point, Vivian. Look, I didn’t realise I was going to feel this way, but now I am actually going to be a bride, I want to do things the right way on my big day. All my other close girlfriends are married so they aren’t allowed to be bridesmaids. You aren’t so you are.’

      With that she puts one foot firmly in that metaphorical stirrup, ready to mount the moral high horse I can tell she will be riding right up until the big day. Why can’t people get married properly, like Penelope Cruz did in Blow? Off the cuff (and off her head) in Vegas wearing a purple jumpsuit. I had expected more from Adele, but like a shocking number of females who have made a point of swerving dry customs their entire lives she has turned into Anne of Green Gables now she has got a wedding to organise.

      ‘Fine, I’ll do it. But you better make sure this is the one and only time …’ I smile back at her as I sit down. ‘And you can forget about me wearing anything ten swatches in front of or behind “dusky peach” in the fabric sample flip book.’

      She bursts out laughing and idly picks up the pepper grinder from where it is still lying on its side from, er, last night. I watch Monday as he finishes his meal, licks his whiskers, does a few feline press-ups and strolls out of the kitchen without thanking СКАЧАТЬ