The Wedding Diaries Read Online Free Page A

kissing him (or more) in broom cupboards, dark corners of nightclubs, brightly lit kitchens, even, at one memorable house party, my own bed. I’d be so hurt and furious that I’d have no contact with her for months, then I’d find some old photos, or she’d be mentioned in conversation, and I’d start thinking: is she so bad? Really? And it would begin all over again.
    But with Thom, it was so different. For a start, I didn’t even tell her about him until we were moving in together; secondly, Thom has never liked Eve. He doesn’t like the way she speaks to me, and he’s no great fan of her past conduct, either.
    So that goes some way to explaining why the phone call announcing our engagement went like this:
Me: Eve! It’s Kiki! I’ve got some great news …
Eve: George Clooney’s leaving his pig for you. You’ve found Atlantis.
Me: Nope. It’s—
Eve: Hang on. [crashes about, away from phone] No, darling, you have to go! No, now. I’m sorry, it’s a work call and I simply have to take it. [back on phone] Sorry. Some guy. Incredibly hot but with the smallest hands I have ever seen. Can you imagine some tiny ventriloquist’s dummy manhandling you? Dummyhandling. God, I’ve absolutely no idea why I let him stay …
Me: Eve! Thom and I are getting married! [silence] Will you be my bridesmaid?
Eve: [long silence] Kiki, darling, can I give you a call back later? Little Miss Muffet can’t find his way out. Love you!
    Thom’s asking why I’m writing my diary so angrily. I’d better stop for tonight before this page becomes shredded paper.
    TO DO:
    Rest of wedding party – best man, maid of honour, bridesmaids, ushers, ring bearer, flower girl
    Find out if Thom is allowed to carry the ring himself, being a grown man and everything
    August 30th
    I took Thom out tonight to the bar where we had our first date. It happened a couple of days after we met; he ‘found’ my number (thanks, Suse) and called me within twenty-four hours, asking if I’d like a drink with him. Just him, no heavy storage, he promised. I felt self-conscious as I still had not only an enormous black eye, but also an eye-patch that the doctor wanted me to wear for the next week, to protect the – I don’t know – eyeball, or something. But speaking to him was so lovely that I said yes. Sure. Thank you.
    The night of the date I despaired of ever finding anything to go with an eye-patch. I toyed with going full-blown pirate, but just picked my favourite summer dress and headed off to the bar, hoping I could hide most of the patch under my hair. I got there first, and took a little booth at the back, facing away from the door so I wouldn’t be looking up every time it opened. Then suddenly I was aware of someone standing at my table. I looked up. It was Thom.
Thom: [pointing to his own eye-patch] Well, if this isn’t just a coincidence.
    With that, I was hooked.
    August 31st
    An engagement ring! I hadn’t thought too much about it until now, but my hand certainly did feel a bit light without one. Who knew picking a ring was an extreme sport?
    We were using up the last of our summer days off at a dusty antiques market this morning, trying to find a suitably beige-and-purple (Mum’s favourite ‘tones’) watercolour for Mum and Dad’s anniversary present. Then Thom turned to me, grinning, and said, ‘Let’s find a ring.’ Turning around the dark and plain hall, I felt pretty pessimistic about the whole thing, but Thom’s face was so hopeful it felt mean to not even look. At the very first stall the man behind the table gave Thom a little smile and pushed a tray towards us. Off to one edge of the tray was the most gorgeous ring I’d ever seen – a pale gold band with a small ruby and two tiny diamond flowers off to one side. When I picked it up to try it on, it fitted perfectly.
Thom: Do you like it?
Me: Like it? This is … perfect .
Thom: Then it’s yours.
Me: But how much is it?
Man at stall: To you two? £400.
    Thom was grinning