Page 4 of Alice Carver Manifests Her Perfect Life
‘Yes, well. She lives in Scotland. And she still had her looks when she met Ted. Tick tock, Alice,’ said Mum stridently, pulling the church door fully open.
Where everyone was sitting in silence.
Except for Monty’s mother, who was standing right by the door. And who, judging by the fact her bosom had increased two cup sizes with the grinning flush of schadenfreude, had heard every single word. From his uncharacteristic look of happiness, Joyless Julian had clearly overheard too (Monty must have deliberately chosen a wedding party full of people I’d disappointed).
The ceremony itself was, frankly, a merciful relief from people staring at me. The happy couple had written their own vows, which for the most part were very sweet; however, when Monty said how much he admired Minty’s drive, self-sufficiency and insistence on standing on her own two feet, it felt a bit pointed. A feeling compounded by Monty’s mother turning to catch my eye triumphantly.
The Lamb was absolutely stunning, once I’d made it past the intimidatingly cool and attractive staff on reception, who made me feel like I had to justify not only why I was there, but why I was worthy of being there. I thought about telling them that I actually spent a whole summer working here, back in the day but, given it was over a decade ago, it would probably have just made me seem old.
The wedding reception was as awful as I’d anticipated. The drinks reception part was a quagmire of congratulating old school ‘friends’ (Louise, Amira and Tara) – aka people I hadn’t stayed in touch with for a reason – on the wonderful news of impending parenthood / increasing of broods / promotions / property acquisitions / awards, etc., and then navigating either sympathetic, troubled eyes about my continued unmarried, nonpregnant, homeless, crap-job state.
Or, worse still, enduring advice (from ghastly Shona): ‘You’d better crack on and settle for someone, Alice, or there’ll be no babies for you – none of us is getting any younger.’
And, worst of all, poorly disguised glee (from Fizz): ‘Gosh, Alice, isn’t it funny how life turns out in the end!’
It was all interspersed with endless, repetitive small talk about what a beautiful bride Minty made, the refurbished Lamb and much mentioning of wonderful artwork that I, to be entirely honest, didn’t give a crap about.
Then the sit-down meal involved insult after insult. On the way to my table, I overheard one of Minty’s bridesmaids saying, ‘Oh no, not only was she was much older than Mints but according to Monty’s mother, very directionless, which iswhy he had to end it.’ And then I found out I’d been placed at the singles table, away from family and friends, with red-eyed Phoebe from two years below who seemed to have the same cold she had all through school. She still didn’t talk about much other than chess and rabbits, and was still embarrassingly grateful for the fact I frequently stopped her getting bullied at school (but at least she appeared to actually like me). Unlike Minty’s cousin Polly who kept shooting me filthy looks (while actually wearing a white dress). And I wasjustthinking,God, this is a shit table, when Joyless Julian turned up.
Then Astrid came over, and I thought it was to rescue me, but it was only to tell me to go easy on the champagne and remind me that I’d promised I wouldn’t make a thing out of it, and how Mum and Dad still live here, and not to be selfish for once. ‘Oh my god,’ I said. ‘What exactly do you think I’m going to do?’
Having struggled with the onglet (not good with a hangover) and the disappointment of lemon sorbet (how is that a dessert?), I then had to endure the incessant speeches. Not only did Minty’s father sob his way through an entire photograph album of Minty’s dull life including little video clips of her doing gymnastics (I mean you wouldn’t even get away with this at a funeral), but the whole shitshow was punctuated with intermittent ear-splitting feedback from his clip-on microphone because he kept standing too close to the speaker.
Then, to top it all, just in case someone at the wedding hadn’t clocked the party line, I was used as a prop by Monty and Minty (as the woman Monty rapidly rejects in favour of Minty) for their duet – ‘You’re the One That I Want’ – fromGrease.
Honestly, the only thing that could have made this debacle worse was if Matthew Lloyd had been there, witnessing it. I don’t think I could have taken that. Me on the singles table and him smirking at me, with one of his ghastly identikit girlfriends. But I double-checked with Mum, just casually, and apparently the ‘darling boy’ was abroad doing his super-important serious job, so at least I wouldn’t have to endure him being superior and mocking about yet another of my failed relationships, or pretend that he didn’t get to me. Last time I’d seen Matthew Lloyd and I’d argued that Monty and I had loads in common, and that I found Monty’s mother fascinating, Matthew had laughed so hard that his water went down the wrong way and Astrid, always his best friend, had to hit him on the back. I’d have left him to choke.
Nudge 6: The Library (Saturday 24 December, 7.05pm)
Whilst everyone was moving out of the restaurant and through to the bar for the harp recital, I took the opportunity to escape into the library. Skulking by the fire, I was taking a few breaths to steady myself when the door was pushed open: it was Aziz. ‘Hey, Alice,’ he said gently. ‘How are you doing? I imagine this can’t be easy for you.’
And I looked at his kind, questioning eyes, and felt my own begin to smart, so I quickly said that I was fine and that I needed to make a work call.
Aziz waited a moment, and I wondered if he was going to point out it was after 7pm and Christmas Eve and thatI never made work calls. But he nodded. ‘Okay, if you’re sure you’re fine.’
And I said, ‘Of course,’ and we both knew I was lying but I think he could also tell that I didn’t want his kindness right then, because my life was falling apart.
Then he said, ‘I’d better get back to your sister and leave you to your call,’ and I thought how unfair it was that bloody Astrid got him because, honestly, Aziz is far too nice for her: why can’t I have someone supportive like that?
The library door had barely closed before it opened again. I glanced up in time to clock Monty’s expression as he realised that I was already in there, all alone: he looked simultaneously haughty and guilty and fearful, rather like Arrie’s dog Maud.
‘I’m afraid one of us needs to leave this room forthwith,’ he said.
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Congratulations, by the way.’
‘Because I’m not allowed to be on my own with you. Minty’s said you’re not to be trusted.’
‘Oh come on, Monts,’ I said. ‘I’m sure Minty’s more confident of your relationship now you’re married. What harm can it do? Besides, I haven’t seen you in ages… ’
‘You shouldn’t be in here anyway,’ said Monty pompously. ‘You should be through there listening to the harp.’
‘So should you be,’ I retorted, ‘it’syourwedding.’
‘Yes, it is. We’re going to cut the cake soon. It’s cheese.’
‘You do love cheese.’
‘It’s my weakness. Well, one of them.’
