Revenge of the Wedding Planner by Sharon Owens Page A

gentle. ‘Is the break-up with Gary because you can’t have a child together? I’m sure Gary will understand – you know how calm and sensible he is? At least give him the chance to talk about this. I can’t believe you won’t even see him after what a decent bloke he’s always been. You can’t be in love with this Jay guy after knowing him for only five minutes. This isn’t a Hollywood movie, Julie.’
    ‘Who said anything about love?’ Julie said then, sounding utterly bewildered. ‘I don’t love Jay. I just love who I become when I’m with him. I’m different, a better person. It’s easy for you, Mags, sitting there in your little palace on Eglantine Avenue with your chattering brood round you. And Bill making all the decisions. Your whole life is one big certainty. I’m living from day to day, Mags. Here and now is all I have.’
    Well, I didn’t like that comment about Bill making all the decisions but I let it slide. Single women without kids can be quite naive sometimes, I find. It’s not their fault. They have no idea how much hard work and serious responsibility motherhood and being married actually are. All they see are the glossy adverts on telly for Mother’s Day gifts. They know nothing of the agony you go through when your child makes their own way to and from school for the first time. God, I was in bits for weeks with all four of mine. Imagining them smiling and laughing as they stepped out in front of a juggernaut. Still, you can’t rattle on about these things or you get labelled neurotic. And you can’t walk the kids to and from school yourself after they turn eleven or the poor mites will be crucified by their peers. In fact, eleven is pushing it. My kids made me wait round the corner from the school gates and pretend I was sitting at the bus stop. If there were any other children about, they wouldn’t even walk beside me or speak to me. What’s easy about that?
    ‘But you have Gary,’ I reminded her.
    ‘Not when he finds out my tubes are blocked. Look, I’m on my own in this world. Well, there’s my motherbut she’s too busy with her precious boutique to talk to me like a normal mother would. Poor cow.’
    ‘You have me,’ I said. ‘You can talk to me.’
    ‘Oh, I’ve tried talking to you, Mags, and you won’t listen. You’re a hopeless romantic. Look, I’ve got to go.’ She sighed then. ‘Tell Gary today, please? Will you? Bye for now.’
    ‘Julie, wait! Are you testing Gary? Do you want him to come to Galway and find you? Like Richard Gere and Debra Winger in that film and she was wearing his hat at the end? Should I tell him where you are but let him think he dragged it out of me? Julie?’ I almost shouted into the phone but she had already hung up.
    I was left with the uneasy feeling that Julie was perhaps feeling very vulnerable at the moment and maybe she needed to be rescued from this Jay, whoever he was. Some dope-smoking Casanova who’d take advantage of her? A smooth-talker with wandering hands? A daydreaming poet who’d make her fall in love with him and then move on to his next muse? I almost fainted with worry.
    So although I felt guilty to the core, talking about Julie behind her back, I decided I’d call Bill and ask his advice. Naturally, I knew exactly what he’d say but I wanted to hear him say it anyway. I said Julie wanted me to finish with Gary for her and that she was in hiding in Galway until the deed was done. Bill told me it wasn’t my problem, just like I knew he would. He said I owed Julie my loyalty and respect for being a good employer but that I wasn’t her doctor, her shrink, her mother or her agony aunt. Well, that’s men for you; the bottom line is they’re very logical. Of course I wasn’t Julie’s personal psychiatrist butI still wanted to help her. Bill said I should give Gary the name of the spa and let him sort it out himself. That’s what he’d prefer, Bill said, if he was in Gary’s shoes.
    But I couldn’t do