Wedding Night

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    I’m just cracking off a chunk of Toblerone when my phone rings and I pick it up, wondering if it might be Nico. But the display reads:
Lottie
.
    Lottie? I’m so shocked, I drop the Toblerone on the floor. I’m staring at the phone, my heart suddenly thumping, my thumb hesitating over the
answer
button. I don’t want to answer. Anyway, I’ve left it too late: it’s gone to voicemail. I put my phone down on the counter in relief, but almost at once it starts ringing again.
Lottie
.
    I swallow hard. I’m going to have to do this. Otherwise I’ll only have to call her back, which might be worse. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and press
answer
.
    “Lottie! You’re supposed to be on honeymoon!” I aimfor a bright, innocent tone. “What are you doing, ringing me?”
    “Fliiissss?”
    I perform an instant analysis on her voice. She’s drunk. Well, I knew that. But she’s tearful too. Most important, she has no idea I am involved in anything untoward, or it wouldn’t be “Fliiissss?” with a question mark.
    “What’s up?” I say lightly.
    “Fliss, I don’t know what to do!” she wails. “Ben’s
totally
drunk. Like, almost passed out. How do I sober him up? What do I do? Haven’t you got some magic cure?”
    I do in fact have a tried and tested formula, involving black coffee, ice cubes, and deodorant squirted in the nostrils. But I’m not sharing that with her right now.
    “Gosh,” I say sympathetically. “Poor you. I … I don’t know what to suggest. Maybe some coffee?”
    “He can’t even sit up! He drank all these stupid cocktails, and I had to help him up to our room, and then he just crashed out on the bed and it’s supposed to be our
wedding
night.”
    “Oh no!” I try to sound shocked. “So haven’t you even—”
    “No! We haven’t!”
    I can’t help exhaling with relief. I was worried they might have slipped in a quick one without anyone knowing.
    “We haven’t done
anything
,” Lottie wails in distress. “And I know you recommended this hotel, Fliss, but, quite frankly, it’s awful! I’m going to complain! They’ve
ruined
our honeymoon. We’ve got single beds! They say they can’t move them! I’m sitting on a single bed right now!” Her voice shrills higher. “Single beds! In a honeymoon suite!”
    “Goodness. I can’t believe it!” I’m sounding more and more stagy, but Lottie is on such a roll, she doesn’t notice.
    “So then they give us all this free booze to apologize, and this concierge guy bets Ben that he can’t drink some special Greek cocktail. Next thing, he’s downed the whole thing and everyone in the bar is cheering and he’s practically comatose! I mean, what was in it? Absinthe?”
    I dread to think what was in it.
    “We were snogging in the lift on the way back up to the room,” Lottie carries on agitatedly. “And I thought, here we go, at last—and suddenly there was this dead weight on my shoulder and Ben had fallen asleep! Mid-snog! I had to manhandle him into the room and he weighs a ton and now he’s snoring!” She sounds close to tears.
    “Look, Lottie.” I run a hand through my hair, trying desperately to think of the best way to play this. “It’s not such a big deal. Just get a good night’s sleep and … er … enjoy the hotel facilities.”
    “I’m suing this place.” She doesn’t even seem to be listening. “I don’t know how it won an award for Best Honeymoon Suite. It’s the worst!”
    “Have you eaten? Why don’t you have something from room service? They do really good sushi, or there’s an Italian pizza place.…”
    “OK. Maybe I’ll do that.” Her fury seems to subside and she gives a gusty sigh. “Sorry to lay all this on you, Fliss. I mean, it’s not
your
fault.”
    I can’t bring myself to answer.
    I’m doing the right thing
, I remind myself furiously.
What’s better, frustrated and upset for one night or married, pregnant, and regretting it your whole life?
    “Fliss? Are you still there?”
    “Oh, hi.” I swallow. “Yes. Look, try to get some sleep. I expect tomorrow will be better.”
    “Night, Fliss.”
    “Night, Lottie.”
    I switch off and stare ahead for a moment, trying to calm my guilt.
    I expect tomorrow will be better
.
    Total lie. I’ve already talked to Nico. Tomorrow won’t be better.

12

LOTTIE
    I don’t want to be negative. But if I could describe how I expected the morning after my wedding night to be,