Welcome to my new story - a modern A/B pairing, I've written another modern A/B story - which was set in Leeds and Cork - which I found quite hard since I know neither city - so just for my own benefit - this one's set in Cardiff, in South Wales, which I know very well. But that's the only erroneous thing - and the characters are still both from Yorkshire and Ireland - so fear not!
(the music collection featured in here is shockingly bad - and involved me trawling through my old CD's and tapes to remember what I was listening to some 10/12 years ago!)
Anna and John meet at a mutual friends wedding, and get to know each other - this is all a bit tongue in cheek, and all that - it's rated T to be safe and will probably be up to that within the next few chapters.
Have fun - stay safe - and please comment if you want to - I like positives and negatives - so even if you hate it - I love to hear!
Anna knocked on the bathroom door again, she pressed her ear to the white gloss wood and listened hard, she could hear the throaty sobs from the other side.
"Hannah? Han? Come on – what is it?"
"I look fat … and ugly … and short!" And the wailing carried on, in the background there was the sharp shrill ring of the doorbell.
"Han – The hairdresser's here, I'm going to leave this tea by the door here, and I'll be back now in a minute with Ceri, you get yourself presentable and then come out. OK?" Anna loved Hannah dearly, they were good friends, but being head bridesmaid at her best friends wedding was taking it's toll. At the front door Anna found Ceri, the hairdresser, she and Anna were friend's of friends – they had met a few times and Anna liked Ceri's no nonsense approach to hair and makeup – she had worked in south East Cardiff for 30 years and had no time for the bridzillas that the North Cardiff suburbs bred.
"Hiya, she's upstairs in the toilet … she's a bit emotional!"
"Hiya – yeah well they all get a bit mental on the big day don't they! Where am I going?"
"Go on upstairs – front bedroom, tea?"
"Cup of coffee'd be lush – ta."
With the kettle on, and the toaster toasting, Anna tried the bathroom door again, she noted the cup of tea had gone and rather than knocking she tried the handle – the door opened. Sitting on the floor, her eyes ringed red, leaned against the edge of the bath was Hannah.
"Babes – what if he doesn't turn up?"
"Han – he will turn up, Martin loves you – he'll be at the church at 11am, just like he's meant to be. But he'll have nothing to turn up to unless you shift and let Ceri do her stuff!"
"She's right you know – I've been doing this now for 27 years, and I've never known a man ditch his girl at the alter." Added Ceri from the doorway, a cup of coffee in her hands. "If a man's going to leave you it'll be a week before – that's when they get cold feet – not on the big day! Now come round and sit by here – I'll do both your hair, I'll leave your makeup 'till last Hannah, keep you looking nice and fresh!" Anna pulled Hannah to her feel, drawing her in for a hug, 'Thank you!' she mouthed over her friend's shoulder to Ceri, who winked back. Feeling a vibration in her dressing gown pocket Hannah answered her mobile, Anna saw the terror in her eyes as she said:
"Hello – John?" followed by silence for a few seconds as Hannah nodded fiercely before turning to Anna,
"Anna – It's Martin's best man – it's John – he says they need the buttonholes …"
"Tell him I'll leave the front door on the latch – and that the flowers'll be in the living room. He can come and get them whenever!"
Anna stepped into the living room, it was a little messy still from her and Hannah's evening in – watching Mad Men on Sky1 and drinking white wine - but given how their flat at university used to look after a night in together Anna thought that her house was looking pretty good.
"Tights … tights … tights … come on – where are you?" said Anna – searching around, she had brought a new pair the other day – she new she had.
"Hello …" said a voice behind her, she spun around to see a man standing in the doorway, he was tall and dark haired – broad shouldered and, Anna decided, in his mid 40's … good looking in a sort of "I'm old enough to be your uncle" way. Anna liked her men with the well cut jeans and short sharp hair look about them – this man, with his faded dark jeans, green fleece and rumpled hair wasn't the kind of man she would normally look twice at – but something about him make her look twice, make her smile, make her heart beat just a little quicker.
"Hello … I'm a little too afraid to look down – but I have a nasty feeling I'm just in a bra and knickers …"
"Yes. Yes you are just in a bra and knickers … although they're very nice, and from what I can see – clean – so you know … well done!"
"Thanks – now … please tell me you're John the best man – and not some random peeping Tom?"
"I am John the Best man – and you must be Anna the head bridesmaid?"
"I am yes …"
"Well in that case – Anna the head bridesmaid, let me give you my fleece, cover your dignity. And I'll just take this box here – are these all for the registry office now?"
"Yes – there's two big ones in the red tray for you and Martin at the back of the box …."
"Lovely … well then – I'll say goodbye … Anna the head bridesmaid!"
She was loathed to admit it, but Hannah's dictator-like method for wedding organisation had resulted in a pretty good day, the DJ had pitched the night very well, starting of with songs for the under 16's to enjoy while everyone else was crowded round the bar and buffet – and now that everyone was reasonably drunk – he had stuck on all the old 80's party classics: Agadoo, Dj Otzi's Hey Baby, Saturday night, Mambo number 5 – and for some inexplicable reason C'est la Vie, which no-one liked 1998 – let alone some 14 years later …
"Hello again – I barely recognised you with your clothes on …" said a voice in Anna's ear – she turned to see John the Best man stood next to her, and inspite of herself she laughed.
"That's not funny – I could have you done for lewd comments!"
"Good luck with that one!"
"Have you got a name – or is it just 'John the best man'?"
No. My surname's the-best-man, it's something of an affliction actually!"
"I can imagine…"
"… it's not actually – It's Bates …"
"Do you?"
"What?"
"Misterbate!"
"Oh ha bloody ha – because I've never heard that one before! Go on then – what's yours?"
"Smith – very dull!"
"Not dull – dependable – you never met a mass murder called Smith did you!"
"Same goes for Bates!"
"You forget – greatest film of all time – with possibly the worst special effects – PHSYCHO!"
"Ah – Norman Bates – of course!"
"I could never open a hotel! It's really held me back … can I buy you a drink?"
"Vodka and tonic'd be great, thanks."
She followed him over to the bar, where a harassed looking youth was trying to read the optics upside down. John shouted his order over the sound of 'the court of King Caratacus' which was now being played as a group of very drunk pensioners tried to remember the dance.
"So – Miss Smith – what do you do?"
"English teacher – is a comp over in town – you?"
"Social worker – up in the Valleys."
"Where abouts?"
"Rhondda - bit remote ... beautiful though mind …" and it wasn't the only thing he thought to himself.
