The One with the Hen Weekend. Erin Lawless

Erin Lawless

      

       About HarperImpulse

      

       About the Publisher

       Author Note

      As I arrived in my mid-twenties, something very strange started to happen – my friends started to get engaged. Seriously? – I thought, staring at the fat, glossy invitations appearing through the post – I swear it was only this time last year you were snogging strangers in clubs, and now I’m Saving the Date? And I should put how much aside for your Hen Do!?

      Ever since then, my weekends – particularly in the summer – have been a veritable nuptial string of engagement parties in pubs, dress fittings in boutiques, hen dos in spas and clubs and, of course, the weddings themselves (I gave as good as I got, of course, when I got married myself in 2014). The narrative of being a wedding guest (or knowing a bridezilla) has been so woven into the lives of my friends and I for so many years (and for so many more years to come, no doubt) that I really wanted to capture some of that in a story.

      So here we have: one bride, and four bridesmaids, from proposal to altar.

      Interspersed through the books, I’ve collated some real life anecdotes about perfect proposals, disastrous dance floors, suspicious strippers, bad bridesmaids and gorgeous groomsmen. Get in touch on social media and share your stories!

       Character List

       Please Save the Date

       for the wedding of

      NORA EILEEN DERVAN

       and

      HENRY ROBERT CLARKE

       New Year’s Eve

      Nora Dervan, the bride

      Harry Clarke, the groom

      Bea Milton, a bridesmaid – Nora’s godsister and best friend since birth

      Cleo Adkins, a bridesmaid – Nora’s best friend from university

      Daisy Frankel, a bridesmaid – an American girl Nora befriended while travelling in their early 20s

      Sarah Norris, a bridesmaid – the wife of the Best Man

      Cole Norris, the Best Man – friends with Harry, Nora and Bea since primary school

      Eli Hale, a groomsman – friends with Harry, Nora and Bea since primary school

      Barlow Osbourne, a groomsman – Harry’s best friend from university

      Archie Clarke, a groomsman – Harry’s younger brother

      Eileen Dervan, Nora’s mother and Bea’s godmother

      Cillian, Aoife, Alannah and Finola Dervan – Nora’s younger brother and sisters

      Hannah Milton, Bea’s mother and Nora’s godmother

      Gray Somers, a colleague of Cleo’s teaching at the Oakland Academy

      Claire, a friend of Nora and Bea’s since secondary school

      Darren, Daisy’s current boyfriend

      Kirsty, Bea’s flatmate

      Bec, Abbey, Nish and Jayne, assorted friends and the rest of Nora’s hen party

       Chapter Twenty-One

      Cleo tapped her thumb and her forefinger together, giving the fetching impression that she was doing an impersonation of a crab. She winced at the flare of pain, immediate and sharp along the underside of her arm.

      ‘I think its Repetitive Strain Injury,’ she moaned at her colleague, Gray, who grinned into his mug of coffee.

      ‘Wait, isn’t that what teenaged boys get once they discover internet porn?’ he smirked. ‘Busy weekend, love?’

      ‘You’re not far off the mark, with “teenaged”,’ Cleo admitted, smiling as Gray spluttered on his drink. ‘I’ve been helping to hole-punch heart shapes out of old Smash Hits! magazines from the nineties.’

      ‘Right. Okay… Well, everyone’s gotta have a hobby I suppose!’

      ‘It’s for the wedding,’ Cleo clarified, laughing. ‘It’s quite sweet really. It’s going to be used as the confetti.’

      ‘Because it’s not matrimony unless you have little heart shaped pictures of East 17 and Billie Piper thrown over the bride and groom?’

      ‘Exactly.’ Cleo helped herself to a second chocolate chip cookie from the packet that Gray had produced when they first sat down. (She’d be good closer to the big day…)

      ‘Okay, you know you really do need to explain…’ Gray prompted.

      Cleo swallowed her mouthful of cookie. ‘Well, you see, when she was a kid, Nora LOVED Smash Hits! magazine…’

      ‘Who didn’t?’ Gray allowed.

      ‘But her mum was quite strict and didn’t like her being in to all that.’

      ‘All that?’ Gray echoed, amused. ‘What, pop music?’

      ‘Apparently. So, anyway, Nora used to scrimp and save up her lunch money so she could buy it every fortnight. But she couldn’t bring it home, or her mum would find it, so she gave it to her friend and he kept all of her issues for her. For years. That friend being Harry.’

      ‘Ah.’ Understanding dawned on Gray’s face.

      ‘And, years later – when they fell in love and moved in together and blah, blah, happy ever after – he turns up with three huge cardboard boxes stuffed full of old issues of Smash Hits!And they’ve been a right ballache to store, but they didn’t just want to throw them away… so this seemed like a really good idea.’

      ‘I’m not sure your wrist agrees.’ Gray said, taking that wrist in his hand, almost like a doctor checking for a pulse, the broad pad of his thumb pressing gently against those fragile, birdlike bones, against the swell of her blood. Cleo scrambled back aboard her train of thought, plucking her hand back from his and using it to pick up her mug of cooling coffee.

      ‘Well, you know how it is,’ she shrugged. ‘Bridesmaids are the dogsbodies of every big wedding!’

      ‘Well, to be honest, I’ve never really been to a big wedding,’ Gray shrugged, moving his own hands back to his drink, an easy mirroring of Cleo’s own movements. ‘Maybe a few family ones, but all my mates who’ve gotten hitched have done it pretty small-scale, registry offices and pubs, you know? Certainly no custom confetti hole-punched by the fair hands of beautiful maidens.’ Cleo ignored the easy flirt, ignored the traitorous heartbeat shouting in her chest, pinched it down, right down. (She did not, could not and would not fancy this man, period. It was just a question of discipline.)

      ‘What time are you getting there on Saturday?’ she asked lightly, focusing on how Gray’s fingertips were paler where he held his mug.

      ‘I… I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to make it,