Prior Engagements by Sarah Goodwin

Author:Sarah Goodwin [Goodwin, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

I called my Dad to tell him about my wedding about ten minutes before my flight boarded. Classy, I know.

Dorian was drinking a latte in the tiny Café Nero and wincing at the taste as I dialled my Dad’s number and waited for him to pick up. As if the Gods were punishing me for neglecting my father, Sandra answered the phone instead.

“Hiya,” she trilled, “Sandra speaking.”

“Hi Sandra, it’s Annie.”

“Who?”

Ordinarily, I suppose this would look like naked unfriendliness from my would-be stepmother, but Sandra really was that forgetful. Sometimes I thought she’d completely blanked on the fact that my Dad was already married when she started sleeping with him (and that was about all I thought about it, lest the image of her cellulite riddled, tango-tanned body linger too long in my mind’s eye).

“Adrian’s daughter?”

“Annie love!” she shrieked, like she was auditioning for TOWIE, “how are ya?”

I carefully held the phone a little further from my ear. “I’m good actually. Could I just speak to...”

“I’m awful darlin’, my hairdresser went on her holidays, so I got stuck with a temp called Tina who made a right mess of my bloody highlights. I look like someone’s put Tippex in my hair. And to top it off I picked up a flesh eating bacterial whatsit at my pedicure on Sunday, so now my toe’s oozing all this thick, white...”

“Is that Annie?” I heard my Dad say in the background.

I wanted to shout ‘Save me!’ but I reigned myself in, and waited as he procured the telephone.

“Annie? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“I know Dad, I kept meaning to call but, work, you know.”

“Yes. You do work ever so hard love. Is your mum alright?”

“She’s fine. I actually wanted to give you some news.”

“Oh?” Dad said, “let me guess...”

I really hated that my Dad had to guess everything. Even if it was something little like, “I went to the supermarket today”, he always had to try and work out what you’d bought before you could tell him how some man had cut you up in the car park, so you’d dumped packets of condoms and copies of the Beano into his trolley while he wasn’t looking.

“...you’re seeing someone?” he finally guessed.

I felt guilt roll my stomach over and sit on it heavily.

“Actually...”

“I bet it’s that Will, isn’t it? You two have always been so close.”

I closed my eyes and shouted ‘FUCK!’ inside my head. Why was it that everyone had chosen now, two weeks after my marriage, to tell me that Will and I were perfect for each other? Why couldn’t they have said something before? Before I’d even met Stephen. Before this mess really kicked off?

“Actually Dad, I’ve had a strange two weeks, and that’s why I’m calling now, to tell you that...

“You’re pregnant?”

“...I got married.”

“Because you’re pregnant?”

My parents really were made for each other, at least as far as jumping to dramatic conclusions went.

“No Dad. I met a man at work two weeks ago, and we clicked, so we went to Las Vegas and got married.

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