Hello, Beatrice, Jenna Hart chirped into the phone, dig out your wedding dress Im getting married and I want you as my maid of honour, she said, as confidently as ever, snapping orders like a drill sergeant.
Beatrice wasnt expecting a call that early in the morning.
Your wedding already? Whens the big day? she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
In ten days, Jenna replied.
That fast? I barely had time to blink before youre walking down the aisle, Jenna. What about a proper thinkover? Beatrice teased.
Weve already thought it through, Jenna laughed. I caught the last train to the city, Arthur and I are already expecting a baby Im thirtynine, thats the perfect age, you know. And Im thrilled!
Honestly, Jenna, where are you going to jump into next? Beatrice snorted.
Dont worry, Ive got the limo, the white princesslike gown, the whole shebang. Ive never actually worn a brides dress before, so Im counting on you to look the part too, Jenna boomed, giggling into the handset.
Fine. By the way, whos standing in for Arthur? Beatrice asked.
Kyle, his mate. You probably dont know him tall, dark, quite the looker, Jenna said.
Beatrice and Jenna had been inseparable since their university days in Manchester. Beatrice had married straight out of college, lived six years with her husband Steve, then split. Shes a calm sort, while Steve was a blustering joker who somehow convinced her to marry him. When their son was born she realised Steve was more interested in a night out than fatherhood. After a series of onandoff romances, she finally put an end to that chapter.
A few more brief flings followed, but none led to a family, and she settled into single life. Her son now studies at university in Bristol and lives with his grandmother a setup Beatrice finds perfectly convenient.
She and Jenna shared a flat in a university hall; Beatrice was a year older, though she seemed the younger one. Shes like a greenhouse flower nurtured, trusting, and often landing in sticky situations.
Jenna, on the other hand, is a proper battleready trooper never backs down, always confident, and ready to defend her mates. When she helped Beatrice out of a jam shed never preach morality, just say, You cant change a friend, love.
Life rolled on. Jenna never married, though a bloke was always hovering nearby. She claimed she hadnt met anyone who could truly steal her heart.
Then, finally, love struck. She fell for a former footballer turned businessman. Shed been a ghost on Beatrices radar, meeting only sporadically, until an unexpected call: an invitation to her wedding.
Beatrice, dont fall for Kyle hes a real playboy! Jenna warned, halfjoking.
Dont worry, Beatrice grinned, Ive never been a fan of handsome men anyway.
Just you wait, youll see what a type he is, Jenna replied.
Beatrice headed to the town centre to find a dress. She sifted through endless racks before spotting a floorlength, beige gown with a daring back cut. She sighed in relief, only the salon appointment remained.
Jenna called again, rattling off the date, venue, and cracking jokes. I can feel her happiness from miles away, Beatrice thought.
On wedding morning, Jenna rang early. Kyle will pick you up at eleven.
Ill be at the salon then, Beatrice replied.
Tell him the address, hell swing by, Jenna said.
How will we recognise each other? Beatrice asked.
I showed him your photo. He already thinks youre a knockout, Jenna said.
Kyle turned up looking every bit the dashing, darkhaired gent with broad shoulders. He swaggered over, Wow, beauty is a force of nature. Im Kyle, he extended his hand. A real fairy stands before me delighted to meet you.
Beatrice, she managed, feeling her knees wobble.
The ride was a blur of Kyles stories and Beatrices stunned silence. He laughed, assuming she was nervous about the bride.
Its not us getting hitched, love, just our mates, he chuckled.
The civil ceremony was proper and lovely; Beatrice, though nervous, was genuinely happy for Jenna. At the reception the tables were packed. Kyle and Beatrice sat centrestage beside the newlyweds, clinking glasses for the happy couple and the best man.
When the band started, Kyle whisked her onto the floor. Hope I earned the first dance as your maid of honour, he said. Beatrice nodded, slipped her hand into his, and they glided to the centre.
Your perfume is intoxicating, better than any vintage, Kyle murmured close to her ear.
Beatrices heart raced. Hes not the one for me, I mustnt fall for him, she whispered to herself. Easy to say, hard to resist.
Later Jenna teased, I warned you, love. Keep him at arms length.
Why? I like him, Beatrice protested.
Dont doubt it, Jenna smirked. Hes a smoothtalking, greedy lothario. Women fall for him then get burned. Just have fun, but no serious business.
Im not moving in with him, Beatrice replied.
Dont be so sure. Blink and hell be on your sofa, swearing about three lies in a row before you can say no, Jenna warned.
After work Kyle suggested a café. He lingered, then ended up crashing at Beatrices flat. Jenna called, halfamused, Still ignoring my advice? If he starts whining about money, dont give him a penny.
Where does Kyle work, anyway? Beatrice asked.
You never asked, Jenna shot back. He says his dads got a business, he flies to Germany a lot. That flashy car isnt his; he drives it on power of attorney. Just so you know, dont get any fantasies.
Beatrice thought, Hes charming, attentive, looks after me well.
A couple of weeks later Kyle begged, Beatrice, could you lend me ten grand? My cars in the shop, the firms under audit, accounts frozen just until its sorted.
Beatrice dug into her savings and handed over the cash. Pay me back when you can, she said.
Friday night, after work, Jenna and Arthur invited everyone to a café. Before entering, Beatrice asked, Kyle, you got any cash? Were covering our own tab.
Blimey, Kyle patted his pockets, Ive only got three quid. He looked sheepish.
Beatrice slipped him a £2,000 note. Take it, lad men are supposed to foot the bill, she smiled.
The evening was a blur of wine, dancing, and laughter. The next weekend Jenna suggested a weekend at a countryside lodge for fishing and fresh air. Come on, Tom, you need a break from work, she coaxed her husband, and you, Kyle, can you manage?
Sure, Im my own boss, Kyle replied, puffing up.
At the lodge, Kyle realised hed left his wallet at home. Beatrice, suspecting his tricks, raised an eyebrow. Forgot your wallet, Kyle? How does a grown man manage?
No idea, he muttered, tapping his forehead.
Beatrice thought, Hes pulling the wool over my eyes. While they ate, a pretty blonde brushed past Kyle, snapping, Hey, Kyle, another rabbit youre chasing?
What? Who are you? Kyle stammered, before the woman winked at Jenna.
Ladies, lets freshen up our lips, she said, then turned to Beatrice, Looks like hes found another chick who lays golden eggs, eh?
What does that even mean? Beatrices voice trembled.
It means he lives off women, forgets his money, boasts about foreign trips, claims his dads a mogul but never sees him. Thats his routine, the blonde explained.
Jenna, hearing this, leaned in, Now you see why I warned you. We dont need freeloaders. Lets send him packing, shall we? Ill help you.
Back at the table, Jenna stared straight at Kyle and declared his true colours, inviting him to leave. He muttered a protest, then stormed out, shouting, Youll miss me, love, Im not a proud bloke! as he vanished down the hallway.
Byebye, Kyle, Jenna shouted after him, laughing, Well remember you for sure!
Cheers, Jenna, youve always got my back, Kyle called over his shoulder.
Both women burst into hearty laughter, the lodge echoing with their mirth.
