Week four oxford

I tell Jake I am moving out because I hate him. He tells me I am horrible and that I can not stop paying rent as he cant afford to live there on own. He threatens to sue. I agree to stay for next two months and then we can get out of lease. We agree to live side by side as have been doing and not to do anything inconsiderate like take other people back to the house for shagging when other is there.

I go home to New Zealand for a holiday to be bridesmaid for Rachel. I arrive in New Zealand and weather is sunny and wedding is to be near beach. I stop off first at home to have mothers home cooking and wine by pool with sisters. Sisters are thin and sit near pool with large cold glasses of Sauvignon in bikinis. Their current thing is oysters and vodka shotglasses. Is perfect for summer evenings. Lovely lovely alcoholic sisters. I forgive them for their thinness. I then head to west coast of NZ to do bridesmaid duties.

Am cursing those last Oxford blowouts with American girl as Bride has gotten serious case of bridorexia. She has barely any curves or anything left. I ask her what her secret is and she says that she ‘hardly drinks anymore’ as no longer lives in London. This is one diet I will not be trying to emulate.

Staying at bride’s house for days preceding wedding we organise tables, lights, menus and gift register. Bride does not eat at all in the three days. I have no car and am dependant on her for transport. I feel that I should be as thin as her and therefore can’t ask for nine pints and kebab which is what I crave. I text my family from my bedroom. ‘Help’ I text ‘have not eaten for day and a half there is no food in the house and we never go anywhere that sells food’. My sisters text back ‘we will come down soon for wedding and bring food. Just drink wine in the interim ‘ ‘no wine in house ’ I text back. I don’t think they know what to say. Is alien concept.

The next day Odile flies back from London for one and a half days as she is hard-hitting city lawyer. She comes into bride’s house and I am lying down half conscious on floor with hunger. I point at mouth as this is all I can manage. Odile gets straight to action despite her jetlag. ‘Im taking Arabella to pick up the wedding maps’ she says. She drives me straight to a café where I get a savoury muffin filled with sundried tomatoes and feta, and a pie and I order a glass of wine in a paper cup to drink while we drive round getting maps. I stare at Odile in adoration. She has saved me.

Wedding day dawns bright and clear and bride looks thin waif like and beautiful. She walks down outside aisle with red carpet and petals. It is very moving. Afterwards we sit at top table and we are served salmon on citrus mash. Me other bridesmaids and bride all stop talking and eat the mash in fast greedy spoonfuls. Look up and see alcoholic sisters watching us bemusedly. They come up to top table and bring their portions of mash. ‘It appears you all need some carbs’ they say scraping their mash onto our plates. Lovely sisters.