“Come on, you boring lot. Time to dance.”
Gamely, and not a little tipsily, we let Sarah pull us up to the busy dance floor.
Maria and I tried to outswirl each other, throwing the material of our dresses around in lieu of being able to move our legs. Sarah stood in the middle of us, lifting her skirts and swaying. Jeremy did a twirl with Anette, who was now wearing his hat, and ended up bumping up against Sarah, causing her tiara to fall off and roll away along the floor.
Jeremy raced after it, returning it with a sheepish expression. Sarah took it from him and set it on her head, purposefully askew. “What?” she asked, seeing our surprised expressions. “We got married, didn’t we? This is the part of the wedding dedicated to fun. Did any of you read my presentation!”
There was a flash of white in the crowd and Sarah tracked it like a hawk after prey.
“Beth!” she called, following her work colleague. “I want to introduce you to someone. His name’s Roger . . .”
The song switched to something softer.
“Come on.” Maria took my hand and we made a good go of twirling in our dresses until David tapped her on the shoulder, towering over everyone on the dance floor. “Can I steal her?” he asked me.
“She’s all yours,” I said. He gently pulled her away. I looked for Jeremy, but he and Anette were shimmying toward the bar, where a cute barman was serving.
I was on my own. I moved to the edge of the dance floor, enjoying the way Maria and David had eyes only for each other as they danced.
Then Ben was next to me, taking a photo of them.
“They look so happy, don’t they?” I said. If I could find someone to look at me the way they looked at each other after twelve years together . . . I hadn’t forgotten what Maria said at Sarah’s hen do, but that look meant they were doing something right.
Ben hung his camera around his neck, turned to me, and held his hand out. It took me a second to register what he meant.
“Oh,” I said. “Yes.”
As we stood on the LED flooring, the music changed to Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight.” Ben fumbled around with the ruffles on my back, trying to find somewhere to put his hand. I laughed a little. “I’m not sure this dress was exactly what Frank had in mind when he sang this.”
He stepped a little closer and tripped. “Sorry!”
“It’s okay.” I yanked the material from under our feet.
David and Maria danced up to us; Maria was standing on David’s toes to avoid tripping over her own ruffles. “Don’t mind me. I just need to make a quick alteration to Evie’s dress,” she said, as David leaned her in toward us. “Your mother told me this should work.” Her fingers touched a point at my neck, my waist, and somewhere on my back. Then she reached under my arms. “Maria!” I gasped, as she yanked hard and David pulled her back, taking the entirety of the top layer of my dress with them.
I looked down. I was now wearing a pale gold A-line dress that hugged my waist perfectly, the skirt swinging against my legs. “That’s better.” Maria grinned. “To the bar!” she ordered David, who danced her away from us.
The music switched to Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Sure enough, Jeremy and Anette were at the DJ’s booth, grinning at us. I shook my head at them both.
When I turned back to Ben, he was holding out his hand again. He pulled me to him, placing his other hand in the small of my back. All my nerves were concentrated on the weight of that hand, and his fingers against my skin, as if there was no material there at all.
“You were right,” Ben said. “About today. Being here. Taking photographs. Thank you. I . . . I don’t think I would have done it without you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Though I suspect Anette played a big part.”
He smiled. “She made one very persuasive point.”
“Which was?”
Ben’s fingers tightened on mine. Ever so gently, he pulled me closer, the gap between us becoming an inch, a centimeter, a breath. His mouth started to form a word. But I never got to hear it.
“Red.” The shout rang out across the dance floor. There were annoyed gasps and the crowd parted to make room as someone pushed their way through.
My heart shoved its way into my throat.
“Red, babe,” NOB called, approaching us. He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket, his hair all over the place. “Your meet-cute is here. Better late than never, right? DJ! My song.”
“Lady in Red” started playing. Every single person on the dance floor was watching as NOB held his arms wide, waiting for my embrace.
Ben’s hands dropped away, leaving me cold.
“Ben . . .” I willed him to see I hadn’t planned this, but his attention was on NOB. His jaw set. He didn’t say anything, just nodded as if he shouldn’t have expected anything different, and walked away.
“Bye, Ben,” NOB said to his retreating back.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“I’m getting it right this time. I couldn’t stay away from you, Red.”
“You think you can just turn up at my friend’s wedding after what you did?”
He stepped closer to me, lowering his voice. “I know I owe you a huge apology.”
What could he possibly say to explain himself about the script?
“You have to know,” NOB said. “Everything I said to you, it was all real. I’m sorry I didn’t get things right at the premiere. I should have told you then, but I just couldn’t deal with how I was feeling about us.” He paused, searching my face. “The truth is . . .” He raised his voice again. “I love you, Red.”
And that’s when I saw that my friends had shuffled to the front of the crowd, their faces full of horrified disbelief.
Chapter 37
Splat
INT: THE BAR, ROSEHILL MANOR—SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 9:03 P.M.
EVIE pulls NOB through a set of double doors at the back of the room. A heavy set of curtains divides the room. She pushes through them into an empty bar area. There’s a table stacked with champagne glasses and bottles of prosecco, and a vast cake on a plinth next to the table. The cake stands almost two meters tall. Between all eight of its vast tiers are lavish, intricate layers of icing flowers that trail down its sides. The cake culminates in an icing castle complete with figurines—a princess and a prince, kissing. Both EVIE and NOB are momentarily distracted by it.