The Marriage

I met her Easter Sunday, 2006. Eighteen, living in the city, life was pretty good. I went round to a friend's place after work for drinks. She was wearing a red jumper, we were both pissed.
"I need to marry an Australian!" She declared. I smiled, had another slug of my drink, lit a smoke and smooth as I could managed replied, "I'm an Aussie.". And so it was I found myself engaged on Easter Sunday. We all saw it as a bit of a joke but it was an excellent reason to drink through to the wee hours of the morning.

The next afternoon I woke up feeling like shit, which was understandable as soon as I lifted my head and saw the amount of empty stubbies strewn about the place. Then things got worse, "Hello aussie boy. We getting married today?" I looked up and saw the source of the voice, a thirty something English girl with short blonde hair, she was beautiful, but I was pretty certain we'd BOTH been joking about the whole marriage thing. I told her that and she shook her head, "Nope, I'm serious. It'll work out well for both of us. I'll get us a house, you can have a car, money, whatever and I'll get to live in Australia. Get up and come out to the balcony." she turned on her heel and walked out the door. "Benny's got himself in the shit now." muttered one of my friends from behind a cloudy hangover. "Shit shit shit. What am I gonna do?" I asked.
"Fuck it, get married, it'll be good for a laugh."
"It's against the fucking law though innit?" I asked. My friends laughed, why should the law stop me, it's not like I was robbing a bloody bank. I stumbled out to the balcony, thankful I'd grabbed my sunnies as the sun was blinding. "So your fair dinkum about this eh?" i asked as I sat down and she passed me a lit ciggie. She just nodded, going through bits of paper strewn on the table. I noticed a little ring box by her smokes and groaned. "Is that a...." i started. Again she nodded, "Yep, tonight we're going out for dinner with a big group of our friends, between the main and dessert your gonna pop the question. Make it look real. I'll give this to you to read, it's basically how this is going to work, a grand a week, no rent, no bills etc. You just have to pull it together, make it look real. I dont mind if you shag other people, but keep it discreet okay? We get married on the 2nd of June. Then it's at least two years before we get divorced.Okay?"
"Yeah. But um... one last thing, er... what was your name again?" i tried not to laugh as I asked it. "Michelle." With that she handed me a pile of papers and left, after giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was starting to feel worried, it was against the law, I'd heard people could go to jail for this kinda shit. But then, a grand a week was an awful lot of money, I wouldn't have to work, could just kick back and enjoy myself for the next two years. The papers she had handed me was basically a plan of how it was going to work, a cover story on how we met, what she was going to do, what i was going to do and a little back ground on her. She was the daughter of some rich english toff, the kinda girl who always got what she wanted, she hadn't worked a day in her life. In England she spent most of her time with minor celebrities and fancy cocktail party people. Now she was gonna marry me, a drifter from the outback salt bush scrub of australia. Oh well, i thought to myself, I'll make the most of it, enjoy it even.

Over the next two months my life changed, I went from working the nightshift at a taxi call centre to wearing expensive suits and eating at flash restaurants. Michelle and I would spend hours and hours giving each other as much information as we could about our lives. It was obvious she was a bit uncertain about my past, I couldn't blame her for that, but it was her that wanted to get married so she'd just have to live with it. A few of my friends raised the issue of age, I was eighteen and she was thirty one, but Michelle would just tell them that our love was stronger than our age difference. It was hard at first, but slowly I got used to the charade, at some times I wondered if I could maybe even come to truly love her, an idea soon squashed as soon as she opened her mouth. She was beautiful, no doubt, but she was thick as pig shit, maybe an english version of Paris Hilton.

So on the 2nd of June I woke with a shocking hangover, after a mighty bucks night thrown by my mates. I rolled out of bed, started dressing in the suit Michelle had bought for me and lit a smoke. As soon as I'd finished dressing my phone rang, it was my Dad, I hadn't spoken to him for about three months. "Hey Dad, whats going on?" hoping I could get the call over quickly.
"Not much son, you?"
"I'm a bit busy, I'm getting married today."
"YOUR WHAT?!?!"
"Getting married. Don't worry, it's only for a couple of years."
"Benny, your getting married? Why?"
"because this bird I met wants to live in Australia."
"She paying you?"
"Yeah"
"You know it's illeagal?"
"Yeah."
"Then why are you doing it? Your eighteen, wht are ya gonna do if you meet someone you really want to marry one day? How are you gonna explain that?"
"I dunno, look, I'm not exactly sure about it either okay. I'll call you in a couple of days old man."
With that I hung up and made myself a coffee. A mate of mine pulled up out the front and we drove into the city, it was going to be a small affair, a few mates, michelle, her mum who'd flown over from england and we were gonna do it at the registrars office. We stopped at a maccas for some breaky and i turned to my mate, "Simmo, I'm not doing it man. I'm to young. It's illeagal." he just nodded.

We arrived at the building just as michelle and her mum turned up. "Michelle, I'm backing out. I'm just to young. I can help find someone else for you, but I'm not marrying you today, or ever." It felt good to say it. She slapped me. Her mum slapped me. I crossed the road and walked to a cafe in Hay street mall.

I'd thought about Michelle on and off through the past eighteen months. Most of the time I regretted not getting married, as it turned out, life handed me out a few challanges I wouldn't have had if I'd been married. Sometimes I comforted myself by thinking I'd done the right thing. But at the end of the day, even if I'm not a materialistic person, money makes things happen. I ended up getting a job at an outback roadhouse, slaving away for less money than Michelle had offered me and having no social life. A few of my friends heard the story, told me that I'd done the right thing. Then tonight, drinking with the crew from work and a few people out of the motel it again came up in conversation. "You'd be getting divorced next June Benny" said Pete.
"FFFFAAAARRRRKKKK!" I replied, not so calmly. At the time, I felt like two years was a long time, now I know it passes in the blink of an eye.

So, if anyone wants to live in Australia, let me know, we'll get married and live happily for two years.