I spend my Saturday morning Facebook stalking Josh Graves, Lela’s ex. For someone who doesn’t have any interest in social media, this is a relatively new phenomenon. I can’t believe how much private stuff people post online. And it’s not like they’re selective about it either. There are zero privacy blocks on Josh’s profile. I can see all his recent activity, information, pictures, everything. I don’t know if I’m expecting to find a very public posting from Lela declaring their affair, but what I do find is even more suspicious. Because I can’t find anything. Not even a cryptic status update that would hint at any reconciliation between him and Lela.
Annoyed that my snooping hasn’t paid off, I slam my laptop lid down. I’m almost starting to think that whatever Damien saw wasn’t the markings of an illicit affair at all. But Lela still cheated with someone, and Josh is the perfect candidate. I don’t know why I didn’t think of him before. I suppose I just assumed that they weren’t in contact anymore, much like me and Ash. But people bump into friends they haven’t seen in years all the time, don’t they? Maybe they met up innocently just for a chat about old times but realised that they still had feelings for each other. And what’s Lela supposed to do? She’s engaged to somebody else.
I think about why Lela broke up with Josh in the first place. He had a good job in Wakefield and wanted to stay, wanted his girlfriend to move in with him and start their lives together. I thought they’d do that because neither of them had applied to go to university. But then Lela announced that she’d accepted a job offer in York. All I know is that she went, and Josh never went with her.
A part of me wonders why it was my ex she chose to get in contact with when she moved back home. She must still feel something for Josh if, a year and a fancy engagement ring later, she’s willing to cheat on Ash with him.
Squinting at the time display on my mobile, I realise that I have less than an hour before I’m supposed to be at a spa in Huddersfield for Lela’s hen party. I don’t even have time to think about what I’m going to say to her or how I can possibly forget about what Damien told me.
The spa is decorated with pink balloons to signify that a special event is going on, and a bored-looking woman with long, glossy brown hair in a neat ponytail hands me a glass of champagne without even asking who I am or if I’m part of the hen party. I sip the fizzy liquid and the woman points a manicured fingernail past the empty reception desk and towards a tall wooden door on the right.
I follow her silent directions and find myself in a room with a sparkling green mosaic floor and tranquil music playing softly from the wall-mounted speakers.
“You must be the head bridesmaid!” A fresh-faced girl with a looming athletic frame and short blonde pixie cut appears from nowhere and beams at me.
“Is everyone else already here?” I guess. It’s not like my bone structure screams ‘head bridesmaid’.
“Yup.” The woman’s head bounces up and down. “They’re just changing into their swimwear. You did bring yours, didn’t you?” Her eyes scan the black handbag I’m clutching as though she has x-ray vision.
My cheeks start to burn. I recall Kerry saying something about bringing one now, but I didn’t realise it was an integral part of a spa trip. It’s not like they provide underwater beauty treatments, is it? “Um…no, actually. I forgot. Is that a problem?”
“It’s not a problem.” She fiddles with the breast pocket on her white tunic. “If you want to join in with the treatments, you’ll need to borrow one of our spares.”
If I want to join in with the treatments? I’m not paying just to stand around, am I? Borrowing a bathing suit won’t be that bad anyway. They’ve probably got loads of nice ones in my size. Maybe I’ll find one that looks a bit sexier than my usual floral bikini.
“Here’s one the looks like it will fit you,” the woman says, pulling a spandex garment out of a red plastic box that’s sitting underneath a desk housing all their glossy brochures and pamphlets. She hands me a black one-piece with a faded white polka-dot pattern. “It’s one of those that hold your tummy in,” she comments.
I pick at the sagging fabric with pincer fingers. “Have you got anything a bit smaller?”
She frowns. “What size are you? That costume’s no bigger than a fourteen.”
“I’m a ten,” I answer through gritted teeth.
“Oh.” She giggles and turns back to the box. “Everything else in here might be a bit too skimpy.”
“I’d really rather choose myself,” I say, marching up to her.
She steps out of my way, but I’m left disappointed with the few items lining the bottom of the box. One is a gold string bikini that looks like it might fit a Barbie doll, and the other is a red lace costume that wouldn’t look out of place in a porn star’s wardrobe.
“I guess I’ll make do,” I say, holding the swimsuit by its thin straps. “Where do I change?”
All the other girls manage to look fabulous in their swimming costumes. All four of them are in sexy little bikinis that show off their figures. I try to slip into the Jacuzzi with them unnoticed but the bulging top half of my borrowed costume is already falling down and, by the time I’ve finished fixing it, everyone’s eyes are on me.
“Forget your costume, Jade?” Kerry says icily, a smug smile forming on her glossy lips.
“There’s always one.” Steph rolls her eyes as though she’s some sort of expert in hen dos held at beauty spas.
I ignore them and pull my body into the water, which I hope will conceal the embarrassingly baggy swimsuit. Ignoring the other two bridesmaids is a skill I’ve had to learn quickly. I have no desire to speak to either of them, nor do I want to talk to the bride herself until I’ve figured out what I’m going to do. That only leaves me with her sister as a conversation partner.
Turning to Emily, I say, “Where is you’re going to be working?”
“All over really,” she answers. “I fly to Switzerland in five days, then after that I’m going to be doing some work in Germany, and I’ve got a quick holiday in Paris sorted.”
“Sounds amazing,” I note, thinking of how I’ve never been to any of those places. All my family holidays were caravan trips in the Lake District.
Emily sighs. “I wish I wasn’t missing the wedding though. Lela’s the only little sister I’ve got.”
An idea flashes through my mind. If Lela won’t tell her best who she slept with, surely she’d tell her sister? How exactly I’m going to press Emily for information on Josh or anyone else in a hot tub of three other women I don’t yet know.
“What other treatments did you say they have here?” I ask Kerry. “Something about hot and cold.”
“The heat and ice experience,” she corrects me. “We’re going to head to the steam room next, then the plunge pool.”
“Not for me.” Emily shakes her head. “Why would I leave this hot, bubbly water to jump into some freezing pool?”
“It enriches the treatment experience,” Kerry says plainly. “It’s good for facials.”
It doesn’t sound that bad to me, but I politely decline too. If the three of them leave, there’ll just be me and Emily and I’ll get my opportunity to subtly quiz her.
“You two are so boring!” Lela huffs as she and her minions get out of the water and head for the steam room.
Moments after she’s gone, I jump in with my first question. “What do you think to your little sister getting married, then?” I start off vaguely.
“I think it’s great!” she enthuses. “I mean, no offence to you or anything, but don’t you think she and Ash are the perfect couple?”
“I always thought she was going to end up marrying Josh.”
“Really?” Emily says, her voice a shrill ring. “Josh was all wrong for her. I’ve told her it’s Ash she should be with.”
“You’ve told her that?”
“Yes. No. I mean, it’s not like there are any doubts in her mind. I’ve just told her that I think she’s marrying the right person.”
“So you never approved of Josh?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. But it doesn’t matter now, that’s all in the past. She’s marrying Ash.”
“We both know that something else has been going on with Lela recently,” I say bluntly.
“What do you know?”
“She told me that she cheated on Ash.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. She’s getting married.”
“And you’re sure that she’s doing the right thing?”
“Of course I am. I’m her big sister. I think I might go join the others in the steam room, if you don’t mind?” Emily moves to the edge of the Jacuzzi, but a figure in a pink zebra-print bikini is waiting for her when she gets there.
“What’s going on?” Lela’s head moves between the two of us.
“Jade and I were just having a chat,” Emily explains as she pulls herself out of the warm water.
“I heard.” She folds her arms sternly across her chest, vanishing the tiny bikini top from view completely. “What exactly did you think you’d achieve, Jade? Did you think my sister would take your side over mine?”
“It’s not about taking sides,” Emily assures her, nodding in my direction.
“It is to her.” Lela points a figure at me accusingly, and her sparkler of a ring catches the light and almost blinds me. “She’s going to tell Ash.”
“You should tell him yourself,” I say, swinging my legs out of the water in what would have been a seductive and cool pose if it wasn’t for the ridiculous cossie.
“You are not going to ruin my wedding!”
“Your wedding?” I laugh. “What about your marriage, Lela? Or isn’t that as important to you as getting me to parade around your circus in that bloody dress?”
“You cow!” she screams. “I knew you were jealous of me! I knew it!”
“This isn’t about jealousy! It’s about having morals. How did Josh manage to miss that rock on your finger? Or did you take it off when you were with him?”
Lela’s eyes suddenly focus in on Emily. “You told her about Josh?”
“No!” Emily cries. “She already knew. She said you’d told her.”
“So it was Josh?” I smile smugly.
And then I feel like Lela. I feel like this whole thing has been about having the upper hand, not what’s right or wrong in terms of telling Ash the truth. I imagine that if she knew a secret this explosive about me, she wouldn’t commit to a decision about what to do with it straight away. She’d torment me with her knowledge. And that’s exactly what I’m doing to her.
“You can’t tell Ash,” Lela pleads. “Not about something like this that doesn’t even matter.”
“It does matter,” I tell her pointedly. “But I won’t tell him.”
The trouble is I don’t know if I can stick to that decision. Not if I have to battle with my conscience to keep Lela’s secret.