Bad Bridesmaid Read online

  I abandon my work by brushing my hand across the screen and open up Google, but as I search for ways to quickly fix my hair it seems that, unless I manage to find (and trust) another local hairdresser, my only option is to buy a darker colour and go over it myself. I love my hair, and it will break my heart to dye it brown again. Maybe it’s just the way I’m feeling, but if I go back to brown I may as well get fat and uncool again – perhaps I can move back in with my parents and go back to the miserable life I had before. I put my lack of confidence in the past down to not feeling good about myself. It sounds silly, but the hair just feels like the first step towards being that person again.

  ‘Whoa,’ Mike says as he peeps through the door. ‘Everyone’s talking about your ‘do downstairs. I had to see for myself.’

  ‘Hello Mike,’ I say unenthusiastically.

  ‘Hello ginger pubes,’ he replies, sitting down on the bed next to me. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘I’m just wondering if Belle would be mad at me for punching her fiancé’s brother in the face. What do you reckon?’

  Mike laughs.

  ‘What a fiery temper you have,’ he teases as he heads for the door. ‘I’ll give you some space.’

  Mike has no sooner closed my door behind him when I hear a knock. It will be him again so I storm over to open it, to tell him to piss off.

  ‘If you call me ginger pubes one more time I’ll shove this iPad up your arse,’ I snap as I rip open the bedroom door, except it isn’t Mike standing there, it’s Leo and his mum. The three of us stand in silence for a second before I find the right words to explain myself.

  ‘Sorry, I thought it was Mike. He’s been teasing me. You don’t have to knock your own door,’ I tell him.

  ‘I know, I thought you might be upset though. Are you up for visitors?’

  I nod my head and let them in. I suspect the real reason he knocked is because his mum is with him, and he probably expected me to be half-naked.

  ‘Oh, love, your hair,’ Leo’s mum fusses around me, despite my little violent outburst in front of her just then.

  I give her a half-smile, but why are they here? Am I some sort of freak show? I’ll probably have everyone up here before the night is done.

  ‘My mum is a hairdresser,’ Leo tells me. ‘A really good one. She says she’ll fix your hair.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘We’ll wait until tomorrow,’ she says. ‘I’ll go out and get the things we need in the morning and we’ll have you back to normal in no time.’

  I grab Maria and I hug her, only releasing her to hug Leo too. I know that I don’t know Maria very well, but I trust Leo, and if he tells me she’s up to the job then I’m all for that. Anyway, if it doesn’t work out, I can always head to the shops and pick up a brown dye as a last resort.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ I say to them both, my arms still around Leo’s neck.

  ‘Well, I’ll head back down,’ Maria says, although it seems like she’s making an excuse to leave. ‘Be up bright and early tomorrow,’ she tells me, closing the door behind her.

  I place my hands on Leo’s face.

  ‘I suppose I have you to thank for this,’ I say, and he nods. I get up on my tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek. ‘What would I do without you?’

  Leo’s cheeks flush a little.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he insists. ‘So do you think you can make it until morning?’

  ‘I’m sure I can put up with it for one night,’ I smile. ‘I can’t promise I won’t kill anyone though.’

  ***

  ‘So, do you have any plans to release another Simply Red album?’ Mike asks me across the dinner table. Until now, everyone had remained tactfully silent about my outrageous orange locks, but I should have known Mike would have plenty of material to work with. I notice Leo look over at him, shooting him an angry look through narrowed eyes, but he’s getting a few laughs from select others and that’s enough to encourage him.

  ‘Very funny,’ I reply as I pick at my dinner. For once we’re having something healthy, chicken and vegetables, and typically I have no appetite tonight.

  ‘What’s the Hamburglar like in real life?’ he asks, an obvious nod to my Ronald McDonald hair.

  ‘That one’s a little dated,’ I say. ‘But OK.’

  ‘Sorry, Lindsay Lohan,’ he replies, and while I can’t help but giggle at his unrelenting ginger jokes, his mum gets angry.

  ‘Michael, enough,’ she snaps. ‘We’re trying to enjoy dinner. Leave her alone.’

  Mike looks down at his plate like a scolded child. With Mike no longer playing jester to the group, people start making conversation with those closest to them.

  ‘You actually make that colour look good,’ Leo says to me quietly.

  ‘Really?’ I squeak in amazement. I’m not sure anyone could make this colour look good.

  ‘Yeah. You could be bald, you’d still be beautiful,’ he replies.

  I smile at him. That’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.

  ‘Well, we’ll have you back to normal soon enough,’ Maria interrupts us. She’s sitting across the table from us and I didn’t realise she was listening. There’s a strange bluntness to her reply, like she’s putting an end to whatever moment I’m having with her son.

  ‘I can’t wait,’ I tell her sincerely. It’s strange, but it’s knocking my confidence, having bad hair.

  ‘I can’t wait to meet my cake,’ Belle interrupts me, addressing the whole table.

  ‘What’s the deal with this cake?’ Mike asks through a mouthful of food. ‘All I keep hearing about is this bloody cake.’

  ‘Michael,’ his mum warns him. He flashes me a cheeky grin before shovelling in another mouthful. I feel sort of sorry for Mike, he’s the “Mia” of his family. He’s the older sibling, unmarried and his parents seem to disapprove of his lifestyle choices and cheeky sense of humour – that certainly sounds like me to me.

  ‘There’s this bakery in Paris,’ Belle explains, ‘called Le Papillon, and they made this TV show about it because people travel for miles to get cakes from there. Dan knows that I love it, so he insisted we’d get our wedding cake there, didn’t you, Dan?’

  Dan smiles and nods. He’s doesn’t strike me as being an especially intelligent person but he loves my sister and he knows how to make her happy.

  The other guys might not get it, but this cake means the world to Belle. It’s sweet that Dan has gone out of his way to get it for her – no one has ever done anything like that for me, unless you count the croissant a certain world famous actor picked me up on the way back to his trailer. We were filming on location in New York and the director was a nightmare, everything had to be perfect and the Pink Inc. team had to be on hand to make changes to the script. This guy was playing the lead in the movie, and I spent most of my time on set in his trailer. One day he brought me this croissant, and although I had no intention of eating it, I appreciated the gesture because he couldn’t even remember his assistant’s name. He was one of the most selfish people I have ever met, so the fact he did anything at all for me felt like a big deal. Still, it doesn’t compare to flying in an expensive cake from Paris. This is the life I have chosen though, and I don’t keep anyone around long enough to buy me cake so the occasional pastry from the on-set buffet table after a quick fumble in a trailer is the best I can hope for – and they say romance is dead.

  ‘I’ll be sure to take lots of photos of it for you,’ my mum assures my sister.

  ‘I don’t see why we’re not having a proper photographer, we can afford it,’ my dad reminds them, even if it is coming from my half of the wedding fund.

  ‘Ted, we’ve told you a thousand times, Belle wants fun and informal snaps – selfies and what not.’

  Did my mum just say “selfies”? Today it’s selfies, tomorrow it will be YOLO and twerking, just watch.

  ‘So, is it ginger cake?’ Mike asks, hardly able to contain his laughter as he does so.

  ‘Very good,’
I sigh.

  ‘Thanks,’ he replies. ‘We started talking about cake, I saw my chance, I ran with it.’

  I push my chair out from under the table and excuse myself.

  ‘I don’t have much of an appetite, I think I’ll go get some work done.’

  ‘Can you get me a drink first?’ Mike calls after me.

  ‘Orange juice?’ I hazard a guess.

  Mike’s smile drops.

  ‘It’s no fun if you guess them.’

  I shake my head as I leave the room. I only have to endure these jokes for a few more hours and then everything will be back to normal. I’ll be counting down the minutes.

  ***

  ‘Can you make me one of those please?’ my uncle asks as I fire up the coffee machine.

  ‘Sure, what would you like?’

  ‘A cappuccino, please.’

  ‘Coming right up,’ I tell him. I’m making a drink for Maria and myself anyway. She’s about to fix my hair, so a latte is the least I can do.

  Uncle Steve reads the paper at the table while I make the drinks. Being the only person who can work the machine, the last thing I need is a queue of people lining up for one.

  ‘There you go.’ I place the drink down in front of him and he thanks me.

  ‘Mmm, that’s good,’ he says after taking his first sip. ‘Nice hat, by the way.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I laugh. He’s referring to the bright yellow SpongeBob SquarePants cap I borrowed from his son. ‘I though the yellow would offset my orange hair nicely.’

  ‘I don’t see what’s wrong with your hair, it looks lovely,’ he insists.

  ‘Lovely and orange,’ I remind him.

  I search around the cupboards for biscuits, eventually finding a packet of chocolate digestives. I’ll take these for Maria too, although I won’t be having one myself. I swear, I’m gaining weight while I’m here. That’s why I got up early and went for a run – and why I borrowed Josh’s hat, so no one could see my hideous hair colour.

  ‘I’ll never understand why women are so vain,’ he says. ‘Hannah spends forever in the bathroom. Then she comes out looking like a clown.’

  I have noticed that my cousin is a little slap-happy, but we all go through that phase as a teen. She’ll figure out what’s right for her eventually.

  ‘That’s women for you,’ I tell him, grabbing the latte glasses and heading for the door.

  ‘Does Hannah seem OK to you?’ he asks, and there’s something about his voice, he sounds genuinely concerned. I hang back for a second.

  ‘Yeah, I think so. She’s a cool kid,’ I tell him, but then I remember that conversation we had, when she mentioned a secret she didn’t think she could talk to her mum about.

  I take a seat next to my uncle. I should probably tell him, shouldn’t I? He might be a bit of a sleaze sometimes, but he’s not a bad person.

  I open my mouth to speak, but we’re interrupted.

  ‘Why is it that whenever I can’t find my husband, I eventually find him with you?’

  ‘In the kitchen.’ I gasp in faux horror. ‘I was just making some drinks.’

  ‘And you made Steve one.’

  ‘I did,’ I reply confidently. ‘I’ll make you one if you like.’

  My auntie frowns at me.

  ‘We were just talking,’ my uncle tells her.

  ‘Yeah, I was just–’

  ‘You two always have excuses,’ she interrupts.

  I have no idea why my auntie thinks the things she does. Yes, sometimes I misbehave, and sometimes I land myself in some strange situations, but this is just ridiculous. And I was only trying to be helpful by talking to them about Hannah. Well, fuck them. They can sort out their own problems.

  Chapter 32

  ‘Sorry I took so long,’ I tell Maria as I finally arrive with our drinks, more than ready to have my hair fixed. ‘I was chatting with my auntie and uncle.’

  I decide not to mention what we were talking about.

  ‘That’s OK. Shall we start?’

  ‘Oh, yes please,’ I reply, taking a seat at the dressing table. We’re in Leo’s bedroom. He’s gone for a run, giving us some privacy.

  This is the first time I’ve had a proper conversation with Maria and she seems nice. She’s quiet and much warmer than the female members of my family. She speaks softly and there’s something very reassuring about the tone of her voice. Having such a lovely mum is probably why Leo turned out so well – if that’s true then I never stood a chance, did I?

  We chat while Maria works on my hair. It’s the usual hairdresser small talk – work, holidays and the impending wedding of the summer.

  ‘Your sister is a lovely girl,’ Maria tells me.

  ‘Yeah,’ I reply. I don’t mean to sound unconvincing, but Maria notices something in my voice.

  ‘You’re not too close with your family, are you?’

  ‘Not really,’ I admit. ‘Even before I moved away – before I started work, it was like no one really noticed me. I was very plain and quiet, I just blended in.’

  I sigh as I think back. I remember when I bagged my first writing job. I never thought they’d want me – no one else did – so when they told me I’d got the job I was over the moon and you might find this hard to believe, but my family were over the moon too. Suddenly unremarkable little Mia was doing something remarkable, and suddenly I existed. My dad invited the family over for a celebratory dinner, popped open a bottle of champagne – the works. For a short while I got a glimpse of a family who wanted me around. At family parties, people actually introduced me to guests I didn’t know, my parents took an interest in what I was working on and, for a brief moment, I overtook Belle as far as attention goes. It didn’t last though. People were impressed I had bagged the job, but when they found out I was good at it, it was like they resented me for it. I was attending big industry events and spending more and more time in London, and I don’t know if people were jealous or just bored of it, but suddenly no one wanted to hear about it any more. No one wanted much to do with me and I felt like an outsider again. That’s why I moved away as soon as possible, determined to change things to try and make myself a little less unremarkable.

  ‘Well, they notice you now,’ Maria replies.

  ‘They do – for all the wrong reasons,’ I laugh.

  What is it about hairdressers that compel you to tell them your deepest, darkest secrets? There’s something so warm and friendly about them, you feel like you can tell them anything and everything.

  ‘Leo notices you,’ she starts, and I feel like she’s going somewhere with this.

  ‘He’s such a lovely man,’ I tell her. ‘You should be proud.’

  ‘I am.’ Maria smiles, but her face soon falls. ‘He’s a lot like his dad.’

  During all our lengthy conversations, Leo has always danced around the issue of his dad. All I know is that he isn’t around any more.

  ‘Is he?’

  ‘Oh yes, not just in his looks, but his personality too – we even named Leo after him, we must have known.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

  ‘Leonardo was a firefighter, that’s why little Leo followed in his footsteps. One day the three of us went to the park. It was a lovely summer’s day; we had the most perfect time, eating ice cream and kicking a football around. We were walking home afterwards but as we approached the convenience shop at the end of the street you could just tell that something wasn’t right. I visited the shop most days, picking up bits for tea and what have you, but today a crowd had gathered outside. Then we smelt the smoke.’

  For a moment Maria stops everything. She stops talking, stops doing my hair and I could swear she has stopped breathing.

  ‘Of course Leonardo wasn’t officially on duty, but there was one thing he used to say to me again and again: that firemen were firemen, always on duty. So, while everyone else was running out of the building, he was running inside. There was this one woman, I’ll never for
get the look on her face. She lived in one of the flats upstairs and had popped downstairs to pick up something from the shop. Her little boy was still up there though and she was absolutely beside herself, she could hardly speak. Leonardo gave me a nod and in that moment I knew what he was going to do. He didn’t say a word, he just disappeared inside and soon enough the little boy emerged from the smoke. I waited for Leonardo to follow him, but he didn’t. Each second felt like an eternity but I held little Leo in my arms and I waited and waited. Eventually the fire engines arrived, but it was too late.’

  Maria chokes back the tears and you can tell that the wounds are still as fresh as the day this happened.

  ‘We later found out from the little boy that Leonardo had died saving his life. Part of the building collapsed and he pushed the boy out of the way, but he…’

  Maria doesn’t finish her sentence – she doesn’t need to. As she reaches for another piece of my hair I catch her hand and hold it for a second.

  ‘He was a real hero,’ I tell her.

  ‘Leo used to say his dad was a hero, but his dad would just say that he was doing his job. Leo was eight when he lost his dad, he was robbed of so much. He clung to me after that, that’s why we’re so close. As he grew up he started taking on the roles of the man of the house. He joined the fire service when he was old enough, and he still takes care of me.’

  I smile. It’s great that he’s close with his mum, and that he takes care of her. His dad would be proud of him, and it does sound like he’s inherited all his best qualities.

  ‘I don’t want you to hurt him,’ Maria says assertively, wiping the one tear that has escaped her eye.

  ‘What?’ I am taken aback by her comment.