The Morning After the Wedding Before

Chapter 2

Holly

Holly didn’t know which way to look as the taxi drove down the strip to the Planet Hollywood Hotel where they were staying. Her eyes darted from one grand hotel to another, the strip shimmering mesmerizingly, promising excitement and entertainment. Holly was fascinated by the bright lights flashing everywhere she looked. There seemed to be so much going on. It was a place for non-stop adventures, exactly like in films and it felt surreal that she was actually there. The taxi pulled into the hotel and Holly was delighted to reach the icy breeze of the air-conditioning again. The heat outside was stifling and Holly could feel sweat at the nape of her neck; there wasn’t even the slightest breeze. She was meeting Emma and the others in a few hours for drinks and she was hoping that Kim would be joining them. Surely she didn’t want to stay in the room for the rest of the day? She knew Kim felt tired and jet-lagged, but they weren’t in Vegas for long and Holly really felt as though they should be making the most of it.

Kim was sitting up in bed in her silky pyjamas watching the large television when Holly walked back into the room.

‘Hey, how you feeling?’ Holly asked her. ‘The pool parties here are incredible. You really should have come along,’ she told her, ‘we’re going to have the best time.’

Kim stretched out lazily on the bed. ‘I haven’t actually been to sleep,’ she said, ‘I’ve just been chilling out and watching a film. Bliss. I can’t remember the last time I actually watched a film without being interrupted by something.’

Holly couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched a film that wasn’t a Disney one. Even when her children were finally asleep she found she was always doing something round the house. Usually tidying up the toy room or catching up on washing. It seemed there was always something that needed doing when you became a parent.

Holly perused the room-service menu. ‘Ooh, let’s order champagne,’ she said, her eyes gleaming as she ran her finger down the menu, ‘to get us in the mood for this evening.’

Kim looked unsure. ‘I’m not sure I’m feeling up to it.’ Her eyes flicked over to the digital clock. ‘It’s two in the morning. in London right now.’

‘So?’ Holly replied ebulliently, ‘when has that ever stopped us before? It’s not like we have the children with us, is it? Emma said we’re all meeting at a bar in Caesars Palace tonight, but that’s not for another hour or so.’

Kim yawned. ‘Oh really? I might give tonight a miss, you know. I’d just like a quiet one to catch up on sleep. That sounds much more appealing than drinking in a bar; I still feel so tired.’

Holly felt a surge of disappointment. She loved her friend with all her heart, but since she’d had children, Kim had really changed. They hadn’t been out in ages and she’d so been looking forward to Vegas and spending quality time with her best friend like they used to. She had hoped that without the children, she’d be the old, fun Kim again, instead of this sensible, unenthusiastic new version. Some days Holly wondered what had happened to Kim. Kim had never been the maternal one out of the two of them. She’d always turned her nose up at the thought of having children, saying that she enjoyed her own life too much to give it up for someone else.

‘I think I’m more of an animal person,’ she’d once said, after they’d been to visit a friend’s baby. ‘I’d much prefer to hold a kitten or puppy than a baby.’

It had been Holly who had been more interested in babies, excited when someone had a newborn she could cuddle and really looking forward to having her own one day. She’d always had lots of younger cousins and had four younger nephews who she doted on. But Kim? Kim hadn’t even planned on having Mylo; it had just happened (a slip-up, she’d said) and then everything had changed. Just like that. It was as though Kim had had a personality transplant, suddenly obsessed with babies and children, wondering how many she could fit in before she hit forty. She suddenly stopped wanting to go out any more. Kim had always been the fun one too. Even since Holly had met Kim at school when they were five, she’d been the mischievous, wild one. The one to get Holly told off for talking in class, encouraging Holly to try her first cigarette and can of cider, and the one to get Holly to stay out until six. even though she had work the next day. Holly would always wake up with a hangover from hell when she went out with Kim, that was a given. There had never been a dull moment with Kim around and that’s why Holly had always loved her. Holly had always been the organized, tidy and sensible one , whereas Kim was much more laid-back, rarely thinking about the consequences of her actions.

Holly adored Kim, they would always be the best of friends, but she couldn’t help but miss the spontaneity she’d had before having children, and she hoped that it was just because it was the first night that she was taking it easy.

‘You sure you won’t come out?’ Holly asked hopefully, already knowing the answer.

Kim flapped her hand in Holly’s direction. ‘No, you go though. Don’t miss out just because of me.’

‘Are you certain you don’t want me to stay in with you?’ Holly offered kindly. She didn’t want to stay in and had already told Emma she would go out, but she knew she should offer like a good friend would. Holly would do anything for her best friend; so if Kim had wanted her to stay in, watch a film and order room service, she would have done. She honestly couldn’t believe that Kim didn’t want to go out and meet the others though.

‘No, I promise it’s fine,’ Kim said, turning to her and smiling. ‘I’ll probably be snoring as soon as my head hits the pillow.’

Holly nodded, shooting Kim a rueful smile.

‘I wonder how Andy will cope with the kids all alone,’ Kim said, her mind clearly still back home. ‘I’ll call him as soon as I wake up tomorrow and check he’s okay. I’m sure he won’t go wrong, seeing as I pretty much left him instructions on every little thing, will he?’

Kim just couldn’t seem to relax and switch off like Holly could.

‘He’ll be fine. Andy’s such a good dad,’ Holly reassured her. ‘I can’t imagine him ever doing anything wrong.’

Kim smiled, but Holly noticed it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Assuming she was tired, she ignored it, and went to have a shower before getting ready to go out.

Chapter 3

Emma

Emma couldn’t believe this was the week she was getting married. She was actually going to be Charlie’s wife. She still felt far too young to be doing something so grown up, despite being thirty-three. It was strange how her body just kept getting older, even though her brain still didn’t feel any different from when she was twenty-one. It was scary and she really wished that time would just slow down.

It had been Emma’s decision to marry in Vegas and as she glanced out of her balcony at the lively strip and the vibrant colours from the hotels, she felt it was the right choice. There was so much to do and see and she knew that all her guests were going to have fun. Everyone had made such a big effort to get all the way there; it was important to Emma that they enjoyed it. It was bright and sunny too, with temperatures in the high thirties; there definitely wasn’t going to be any worry about it raining on her wedding day. Despite being so hot outside, it was never far to escape the heat and cool down in the air-conditioned hotels; it went from one extreme to another.

Emma had never wanted a huge white wedding. She hardly spoke to her parents who had retired and moved to Gran Canaria. She wasn’t particularly surprised when her mother told her on the phone there was no way they could travel all that way due to her father’s arthritis, even for their only daughter. As soon as Emma had got herself a job and been able to afford to rent an apartment, it had seemed like they couldn’t wait to get away and move abroad.

‘The sun will do your father’s joints the world of good,’ Emma recalled her mother saying. ‘You can come visit whenever you want.’

Emma would only see them if she made the effort though; her parents hadn’t once been back to the UK since they moved and Emma couldn’t deny that it hurt. How could they care so little about their only child?

Emma didn’t have a large family that wanted to see her get married. Not that she would have wanted anything fancy anyway. Despite what people thought of her due to her career posting pictures of herself, she actually hated all the attention. When she went to university, she had purposely picked courses where she wouldn’t have to do presentations; the thought of everyone staring at her was enough to make her palms go clammy and her stomach knot with nerves. A quick, low-key wedding was much more her style. Less pressure. She’d only been with Charlie for two years and hadn’t wanted the hassle of planning her big day for months and months on end. Truth be told, the plan was to just get the wedding over with and start trying for a baby. All Emma really longed for was a family of her own. It was strange – she always thought she’d be married with a few children by now. She wasn’t so bothered about the marriage part, but not having children was unthinkable for Emma. Emma adored children and imagined there was no way in the world she would ever leave them and move country, even when they had grown up. Her own mother had left it late in life, having a baby at forty-three, having had a successful career as a solicitor. Her parents were always so serious and strict. Holidays were no fun, she had nobody to swap clothes with and she could never join in when her friends complained about being bossed around by their elder siblings. She would have loved to have been bossed around. She wouldn’t have cared if her sister took her shoes and never gave them back. It would have beat being alone all the time.

Emma wanted to have at least two children and as much as she hated to say it, she did worry slightly that she might have issues getting pregnant if she left it any later. A woman’s fertility was supposed to halve by thirty-five, and that was only a couple of years away. Her friend, Kirsty, had recently had to go through IVF, the reason she wasn’t able to make the wedding, and Emma’s cousin’s wife, Lisa, had also just announced she’d had a second failed round of fertility treatment; it seemed to be coming more and more common for women to get struggle to pregnant. She really hoped it would happen easily for her, although she’d already decided that if it didn’t, she’d love to adopt. There was nothing wrong with it, but she really didn’t want to be a first-time mother in her forties like her mother. She’d always wanted to be a fun, energetic mother. She imagined going cycling in the park with her children. She didn’t want to be one of those mothers who didn’t understand the latest app her children were using. She didn’t want her kids to snigger when she asked them how to do something online. Emma wanted to be young enough to still be a fairly cool parent.

Emma applied some lip gloss and slipped on a sparkly, strappy silver dress. She ran her fingers across the textured fabric of the dress, which moulded perfectly to her slender figure. She was down to a size eight now. If someone had told her three years ago when she was struggling to get into a size eighteen she would be buying a size eight wedding dress, she would have laughed at them. She wasn’t one of those women who pretended she was were happier being larger; she would always have preferred to be slimmer, but the truth was, Emma had just been happy enjoying life and her weight crept up over the years. She loved food. She adored all things bad for her, laden with calories and sugar, and often found herself polishing off a bottle of wine or two after work several times a week. If she wanted to drink a litre bottle of coke, if that was what she’d fancied, she didn’t think twice about it. A couple of chocolate doughnuts after lunch? No problem. She hadn’t been hurting anyone, had she? She couldn’t deny that she’d had low self-esteem and the problem was, when she felt down about herself, she ate to make herself feel better. It had been a vicious cycle. She certainly hadn’t loved her wobbly thighs and flabby tummy, but she always managed to cover herself in loose black trousers for work (she had worked for an accountancy firm in London) and she’d always felt that if she just ignored her size, then it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t as though she had trouble dating; men often said what a lovely face she had, but looking back she realized they rarely mentioned her body. One day, Emma’s trouser button had popped off at work and she had to ask for a safety pin. As she saw her colleague’s Sue’s pitying glance as she handed one over, something came over her. Emma had had enough. She was fed up of constantly being out of breath just walking up the stairs at work. She suddenly felt embarrassed by the fact she seemed to sweat when she’d so much as lifted a finger. She wanted to feel confident in her skin. She went home that night and did a bit of research after Sue insisted she try a weight-loss group that she’d heard about.

‘Barbara Seeley lost three stone on it,’ she’d told her enthusiastically. Emma was also keen to lose a bit of weight for health reasons. You couldn’t listen to the radio or sit in a waiting room without the risks constantly being shoved in your face. Emma didn’t want diabetes, high blood pressure or a stroke. ‘I think it’s a great idea to try it. They do meetings,’ Sue had encouraged. ‘I could lose a bit too, why don’t we try it together?’

Emma had gasped when their scales revealed she was thirteen stone three pounds.

It had taken two years to lose five stone with the help of her weight-loss group and Emma was proud of herself. Everyone was. She was no longer bigger than the women she walked past in the street. She was no longer embarrassed to be seen treating herself to a cake. Losing weight had been the start of a new career, not that she’d known that at the time. After her first month at the weight-loss group, Emma had lost ten pounds and was spurred on further when her name was called out as being achiever of the month. She’d felt a sense of satisfaction. Then after several months she stopped losing as much weight and couldn’t hide her frustration when she’d been eating so well. That was when a red-haired lady, Paula, who also attended the group, had pulled her to one side. Emma had noticed her earlier on, as she was probably the slimmest woman in the group and she’d found herself wondering whether Paula really needed to be there.

‘You’re still going in the right direction, don’t be disheartened,’ she’d beamed encouragingly. ‘Not to put a downer on things, but it does get harder to lose as much weight as when you first started, the longer you diet,’ Paula told her sagely. ‘If you want to really change shape and drop even more dress sizes, join a gym. The gym I go to has a special offer on at the moment. Here, let me give you the number if you’re interested. I have a personal trainer, his name’s Charlie. He’s fantastic.’

Emma hadn’t been too sure about the gym at first. She had assumed it would be full of vain, muscular men looking in the mirrors as they lifted weights and petite women in tiny crop tops. She was more keen on continuing to focus on what she ate. It was all about eating a healthy balance; with her diet plan, she could still eat pretty much whatever she wanted to. Just in moderation. A slice of cake instead of stuffing herself with the whole thing. A glass of juice instead of the entire carton. No food was off limits, but Emma was only allowed a certain amount of calories a day, so she had to choose wisely. She liked the fact she had control over what she ate. She actually enjoyed the discipline and it had suited her down to the ground. That was how she began blogging.

Emma had never really been happy working at the accountancy firm in London. It paid the bills, but she never really enjoyed the job. She always had that Sunday night dread, a twisted, uneasy feeling when she thought about going back to work the next day. Her job simply hadn’t fulfilled her; in fact, it had been nothing but boring and the only thing Emma had liked was socializing with her work colleagues; London nightlife had appealed to her immensely. Emma had always wanted to try something different, but she honestly didn’t know what she wanted to do. She never had. She hadn’t planned to be a lifestyle blogger and she never realized how much money she could make doing something so simple. After losing a stone, Emma had decided to take a before and after photo and post it on her Instagram page. She’d glammed herself up a bit for her after photo, and took the image on her father’s professional Canon camera. It was only a stone she’d lost, but the difference between her before and after looked amazing and she’d even braved it by wearing a bikini in each picture. She just looked so much happier and healthier in the second image and her body was starting to take shape. She remembered taking a deep breath before posting the image. She’d just been on the way to the gym for the first time, the one Suzie had recommended, when she did it, and she’d left her phone in her locker for an hour while she did a yoga class.

Emma had been confused at first when she saw a dozen notifications on her phone, wondering what it was all about. But as she clicked on her Instagram page, she was startled by the huge response she’d had to her post. She’d had one hundred and twenty likes, with so many people complimenting her.

Well done, Em! You look incredible!

Wow! Such great results.

Where is your bikini from Emma? Love the colour on you.

She’d even had a couple of private messages.

Hi Emma. Do you mind telling me what diet you’re doing? one had asked. Do you have any tips for me? another girl had asked.

The messages and huge response had given Emma a buzz of excitement she’d never felt before. She felt important somehow. Special even. She loved the fact that she might actually help people and even inspire them to go on a health kick too. A few days after she’d posted her weight-loss image, she decided to go back to the gym, this time to meet Charlie for a personal training session. The yoga class had given her the boost she needed. Emma had really enjoyed it; no-one was judging her like she thought they would, and everyone had seemed really friendly. There were women of all shapes and sizes there and she decided to overcome her fears and go for a one-on-one session. Emma had still been nervous, especially when she noticed how perfect Charlie looked. But he’d made her feel at ease right away. Charlie was a fantastic trainer and always made Emma feel comfortable, encouraging her to do that extra push-up or extra minute on the treadmill, pushing her just that little bit further than she thought she’d ever be able to go. In between breaks, they spoke about themselves. Charlie was interesting, and he seemed to want to get to know more about her too; he wasn’t someone who just spoke about himself all the time. Emma discovered he was trying to get into fitness modelling, but was working as a personal trainer until he got his break. Emma had started to look forward to their chats; Charlie asked her general things such as what she was doing the weekend, what she did for work etc. It was during one of these chats after having a few sessions with Charlie that she mentioned that she was posting blogs about her journey on Instagram.

‘Oh yeah?’ he asked interestedly, ‘what’s your account name? I’ll follow you too,’ he said.

Emma had felt a little flustered as she told him, knowing he’d be able to see her ‘before’ bikini image, but Charlie had been nothing but supportive and impressed. ‘Wow, you’ve got quite a lot of followers, you know,’ he’d said admirably. ‘You should keep going. Make sure you post something every day. People are clearly interested. Some people make a fortune from Instagram; it’s worth a shot, hey?’

‘It’s hard to believe people really want to follow me,’ Emma said modestly.

‘Why would they not?’ Charlie had asked her. ‘You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re an attractive girl, Emma, and you’re doing something that shows willpower and determination. I bet there’re loads of girls who follow you that would love to lose weight or just shape up a bit. They want to know how you did it and if you’re encouraging people to live a healthier lifestyle, then good for you. Don’t underestimate yourself.’

Emma had held his penetrating gaze. She felt a surge of encouragement. He was right – why wouldn’t people want to follow her? So she posted another image straight after their session to show people her continuing changing body. She gained extra followers immediately and she couldn’t wait to post something else. It became addictive. She began to take an interest in other successful Instagram accounts. She looked at what they were posting and the type of photos that seemed to attract more followers. Before Emma knew it, she was buying new clothes to suit her slimmer shape and taking selfies. Gradually, her Instagram stopped being just about her weight-loss journey and her everyday life. It had been Charlie’s idea to start tagging brands in her images to get their attention. Emma began to realize it wasn’t the only attention she was getting. Charlie had begun to message her privately on her Instagram account. At first, it was just about training. Helpful tips and some low-fat recipes he’d tried. But not long afterwards, his messages began to get a bit more flirtatious and before Emma knew it, she began to like Charlie as more than just a trainer. It was clear he felt the same too. She’d always thought that someone like him was out of her league.

‘I got a message from a gym-wear company asking if they could send me some outfits for free if I tag them on my page,’ she’d told Charlie on their first date at a restaurant. ‘It all feels so strange receiving things for free.’

‘That’s great,’ he’d said passionately. ‘I’ve got some great ideas how you can get other things too. The more followers you have, the easier it is and you seem to just continue to get more and more.’

‘Really?’ Emma didn’t have any idea where to even start.

‘Of course. I’ll help you if you want? I like you, Emma,’ he told her without hesitation, taking her hand across the table. ‘Ever since I met you, I’ve started to fall for you.’

Emma felt her face suffuse with colour and her heart thump wildly in her chest. ‘I feel the same,’ she replied timidly.

After that first date, they became a couple. Emma would join Charlie on his morning workouts and they would train together. They met after work and spent any free time they had as well as the weekends together. Usually they were training, cooking healthy meals or visiting new places, always taking images for Emma’s Instagram. Charlie created a new email account for her page, and he dealt with any queries when Emma was too busy.

Emma began to earn good money. The first thing she was asked to do was promote a clothing brand. She was given her own code, so her followers could receive a discount and Emma got a percentage every time someone made an order using her code. It had been the easiest way Emma had ever made money, and she decided to treat Charlie to their first holiday together to Bali. It was the least she could do seeing as he’d helped her achieve so much, both with her figure and career. Charlie had taken tons of photos: one of Emma pretending to meditate in front of Mount Agung, a volcano, one of her in front of a waterfall laughing, one of her with her back to the camera by an infinity pool. The responses continued to come flooding in.

Oh my God, I love your dress. Where is it from?