My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,41

fiancé— ever doing for the rest of my life.

“I know first aid!” Ian —the person who’s holding me up under my arms— bellows.

“So do I!” Well, of course I do, I’m a certified chef for chrisake. Although, considering the disastrous unfolding circumstances, you wouldn’t think I’m certified in anything other than being a professional berk.

“I know first aid too!” Michael, the man who’s just whipped off my jeans proclaims. He throws down said denims and proceeds to grab my ankles. “We have to get running cold water on her burns!”

“Agreed!” Ian shouts and I’m wondering if these two are members of the territorial army that’s currently recruiting in town.

“Woooooo!” I holler as I’m scooped up whilst pantless by two strong men, neither of whom are the man I’m engaged to. I’m so beyond mortified at this point I can’t even feel any burning sensations where the hot oil spilled onto my legs.

“Be careful, lads,” Dotty whimpers from the corner of the room where she’s standing with the other terrified ladies. “Don’t you two go slipping in that oily mess!”

I’m dumped onto the countertop next to the sink and Michael whips on the tap hose. He douses down my shins and now I feel a bit of stinging. I can see that the flesh of my skin is reddened a bit upon my calves.

“Thanks, Michael.” Leaning away, I pull out of Ian’s grasp. “I’ll take it from here.” I grab the spray tap from Michael without looking him in the eye. “Class is dismissed.”

“I beg your pardon?” Michael leans his head nearer making his face come way to close to my bare legs.

“I said class is dismissed!” I don’t know how else to react other than by barking orders. I want everyone in this room to clear out right this minute! “Sorry, Ian… Michael.” I blurt. “If I’m going to hose down my burnt legs I really don’t want everyone staring at me while I do so!”

I think I’ve just managed to embarrass everyone in the vicinity. The ladies in the corner all skitter towards the door and vacate the room immediately. “I’ll telephone for an ambulance!” I hear Dotty shout from the corridor.

“Tell her she should do no such thing!” I yell to Michael and Ian as they leave me to wallow alone in my burnt leg spritzing sorrow.

Soon, male voices approach and for a second I think it’s the only two men in the class returning. The sink I’ve got my feet tucked into faces away from the corridor. I should have remembered to tell someone to shut the bloody door on their way out.

“Go away!” I shout as the voices near.

“We’re here to help,” One of the men says. “Oh jesus.” I hear him add despondently.

I have a bad feeling that voice doesn’t belong to either Ian or Michael. Craning my head around as far as it will go without snapping my neck, I’m inclined to agree with the new arrival’s latter statement. “Oh jesus, Ben. Why did it have to be you?”

I should have known this would happen. It’s just my luck that this particular paramedic happened to be on duty today.

“I’ll take it from here, Luke.” Ben has a quick chat with his paramedic partner. “It’s only a three per cent burn incident.”

Turning back around I huff exasperatedly onto my bare knees. I’m still sat on the countertop with my feet in the sink as cold water pours over the oil burnt patches on my shins.

Ben approaches me, but he’s not alone like I thought he’d be after his partner left. “Get that thing away from me!” I screech as a black and white robot —shaped like a dome— comes floating nearer.

“Emily, relax—”

“Don’t tell me to relax!” I shout and cower away, scooting on my bum until it collides with a toaster. “Just get it out of here. I’m serious!”

“Okay, all right.” He holds up his hands in surrender and barks some orders at the floating bot.

After it leaves. I’m still in a shouty mood. ““Shut the door!” I yell for good measure. Ben obliges me then walks back over to get a good long look at my exposed legs. Despite the fact he’s a paramedic who’s seen worse, I’m so not comfortable having my cousin’s stripper boyfriend stare at my personage like this.

Maybe it’s karma though. I’ve seen him nearly naked whilst grinding up on me. Perhaps I owe him a show.

Oh stop it! My brain screams at me. As if this situation isn’t awkward