Engorged Hamster : Tainted Trifle
Life is a series of tiny tests, and so far as Charlotte was concerned she failed almost all of them. A chance to be patient; a chance to be assertive; to say the right thing; to make the right choice; to not tell a porky pie; to not let her internal monologue slip into incongruous rhyming slang and spoil the flow - all missed, every time. She sat on the dewy morning grass, absently petting a pussy willow catkin as she replayed the latest catastrophe in her mind.
She really only had one task the night before: don’t kiss Andy.
Everyone had expected it. Chief bridesmaid, best man. Him freshly divorced, her terminally single. Free bar. It had even been quipped there was no point in paying for them both to have hotel rooms. Charlotte was determined not to give everyone the satisfaction.
Everything was going fine until after the first dance. As bodies filled the floor, Charlotte staged a retreat to the safety of the buffet table and waited for him and the other groomsmen to get to the ‘ties as bandanas’ stage so she could relax and know the danger had passed.
Except that Andy followed her over. Well, he was probably just heading to scoop up some profiteroles but, as they were in her zone of safety, the assault on her resolve was on.
Of course he spoke to her, because he was a normal polite human being. Charlotte handled the situation with aplomb by immediately shoving an entire pork pie in her mouth and nodding mutely at him like an engorged hamster. Choking followed, leading to a debonair twist and cough and the tainting of trifle with pastry ejaculate. Charlotte checked for witnesses then swiftly stepped away from the crime scene and directly into the outstretched arm of Andy. She was rewarded with a chest full of icy coca-cola from the glass he’d considerately grabbed to help her wash down the now discharged obstruction.
In fairness, that should have done the trick. So it was pretty infuriating to wake up in his hotel room the next morning.
Charlotte and her hangover had managed to leave before Andy woke up. She grabbed a barely opened bottle of prosecco from the side table as she passed and let instinct carry her outside.
So, here she sat, in the hotel gardens, mostly back into her bridesmaid’s dress, swigging formerly fizzy wine straight from the bottle, before breakfast, while fuck knows what was going on with her bed hair and makeup, contemplating why she just couldn’t do one thing right, just once.
‘Any of that to share?’
It was Andy. Charlotte swore in her head then lengthened her bottle-holding arm towards him.
She nodded without looking. He sat down close to her, so their shoulders touched.
‘Wanna go for a walk?’ he asked.
Charlotte turned, looked Andy in the eyes, swore to herself again, and kissed him.
‘Fuck it,’ she thought.
‘Let’s go mess up my room,’ she said.