A Beautiful Day for a Wedding

by Charlotte Butterfield

  Eve stopped moving. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. And then she told me that I didn’t stand a chance because I’m called Andrew. And before accepting this as possibly one of the weirdest reasons I’ve ever been turned down, I thought I’d go straight to the source and check.’

  ‘That is what good writers do,’ Eve retorted smiling.

  ‘Exactly. I knew I’d score points for my due diligence, if nothing else. So, is she right?’

  He was funny and capable of telling a good story, he found her interesting, laughed at her jokes, he was a few inches taller than her, he seemed to be clean in a non-OCD bacterial-hand-washing way, he didn’t apparently have any dietary fetishes that involved bringing homemade falafels in Tupperware boxes to weddings, he was on the good looking side of normal and he was currently looking at her with one eyebrow flirtily raised waiting for her answer.

  Part of her was drunk enough to say yes, and possibly lunge in to seal the deal; seeing Ben again had made her realise that wasting any more time pining for him was such a waste and she needed to move on once and for all, like he clearly had.

  ‘Um, I’m very flattered,’ she began.

  ‘Don’t say no, let me take you to dinner,’ he persisted. ‘We both live in London, we can meet after work one night this week?’

  ‘I really don’t want to waste your time,’ she said, biting her lip. He was extraordinarily nice, and if she’d never met Violet she’d be shouting ‘hell to the yes’ round about now. Damn that little old lady in turquoise. And damn the fact that Eve was even considering that what Violet had said was remotely true.

  They’d done a 360-degree turn on the dance floor, shuffling round so Eve was back facing Ben. Over Andrew’s shoulder she could see him texting on his phone, no doubt messaging the woman he’d left her for.

  ‘If it helps, my middle name is Bartholomew.’

  ‘Is it really?’ Eve asked incredulously, her eyes swinging back to Andrew’s. If that was true, it could be the connection that Violet was talking about, it was too much of a coincidence otherwise. ‘Ok,’ Eve said decisively. She was seizing the day. ‘Why don’t you buy me a G&T and we’ll talk about it.’

  Andrew smiled appreciatively. ‘That’s a little forward.’

  ‘I thought I’d start as I mean to go on,’ Eve replied cheekily.

  ‘This just gets better and better. Back in a minute. Don’t move.’

  Eve stood at the edge of the dance floor studying Andrew’s back as he waited in line at the bar. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing his tanned forearm as he raised it to run his hand through his dark blond hair that was damp from dancing. He must have sensed her eyes on him. He turned, locking eyes with hers and gave her a smile before turning back around. This could be him, Eve thought excitedly, it really could be. Their children would be strawberry blonde with freckles, she imagined. She’d probably go freelance, while he continued writing speeches that millions would watch. They’d always have to live around London, due to him needing to be near Westminster, but they’d probably move out to a family-friendly suburb like Barnet. It would be good for the kids to have a garden, but they’d probably spend weekends visiting the V&A or the Science Museum, so would need to be on a tube line.

  ‘Penny for them,’ Bobby’s dark brown eyes twinkled at her. ‘You were miles away.’

  ‘Sorry, daydreaming, it’s a bit of a habit.’

  ‘Where did you get to? I was looking for you.’

  Ordinarily this sentence from a handsome tall dark paramedic would have rendered a much more positive response, but Eve was conscious that any moment now Bobby’s best friend would be arriving back, gin in hand for her. ‘I had to stop the DJ slitting his wrists, and then I fancied a bit of a dance.’ And your friend.

  ‘Great idea, come on,’ Bobby grabbed Eve’s hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. He’d loosened his tie, had his top button undone and Eve could glimpse a few dark chest hairs poking out of the top of his shirt, which made her insides do a little dance of their own. She stood still, swaying her hips and moving her shoulders enough to be considered dancing, while craning her neck to see if Andrew had returned. He was standing on the edge of the crowd, two glasses in hand, looking around him, a little bewildered at her absence. Just behind him was Ben, unmoved from the seat where she’d left him, his phone mutely in his hand, nursing an empty beer in the other hand, moodily staring right at her. Good. He’d put her life on pause for the last four years, made her question every moment of intimacy they’d shared before that – she owed him nothing.

  Bobby was enthusiastically jiggling away in front of her with his enticing chest hair that she suddenly wanting to twirl in her fingers and her charming potential soul mate Andrew was ready with refreshments to her side. A trio of choices laid out in a three-square metre patch of floor.

  ‘I’d really like to see you again,’ Bobby shouted over One Direction’s cover of One Way or Another. ‘I think we really clicked.’

  Eve wriggled about a bit more, then leant in, just as the song changed to a Lionel Richie classic. What the hell, she literally had nothing to lose.

  ‘I’d love to go out with you some time.’

  ‘Brilliant, I’ll look at the roster for next week and make a plan.’ He then placed his hand strongly in the hollow of her back and dipped her, while suggestively mouthing the words to the song.

  Eve was saved from actually swooning in an eighteenth-century-needing-smelling-salts type way by a loud yell and scream from the dancing crowd just next to them. The floor cleared enough for Eve to glimpse a bleeding groom lying spread-eagled on the raised stage having attempted to recreate his famous caterpillar dance from university, and in the process concussing himself and breaking his nose on the floor.

  ‘Shit! Amit!’ Bobby rushed to his friend’s aid, his medical training put into practice with various barked orders and a masterful plan of action that had Eve incredibly turned on. Within seconds Amit was awake and propped up, his bleeding stemmed by Bobby’s tie. Andrew had sidled up to Eve, handed her her drink and was watching the scene with a similar undisguised awe. ‘It’s good to have a paramedic in the house.’

  You couldn’t argue with that. Particularly when the man in question was incredibly attractive and knew all the words to All Night Long which, when he had sang it to her, sounded remarkably like a promise.

  Chapter 18

  A huddle consisting of Ben, Bobby, Andrew and the other two ushers stood next to the revving taxi, where a very serious game of Rock Paper Scissors was underway to see who was going to accompany Amit. Ayesha was the obvious choice, but she’d immediately vetoed herself on the grounds of ‘needing to stay with her guests.’ It was a selfless proclamation that only her very good friends knew really meant, ‘I’m having far too much fun to spend the rest of my wedding night with the town’s drunks and my childish groom in the emergency room.’ Ayesha’s initial bout of giggles at seeing her new husband lifeless on the dance floor had subsided when Bobby had stepped in and it all became rather more serious, but once she’d been convinced that she wasn’t about to become a wife and a widow on the same day, she’d calmed down.

  From where Eve was standing in the car park, next to Becca, Tanya and Luke, it looked like Ben had lost the game as he had now opened the back door to the car and was climbing in amid much cheering from the rest of the men who banged on the car with their hands as it began to drive away.

  ‘There is no way I’d ever have done something so stupid,’ Luke said.

  ‘There is no way I would have let you,’ Tanya tutted, her arms folded across her chest.

  ‘There is no way you could ever have done the caterpillar in the first place,’ Eve replied, stone-faced, before running towards the taxi which had stopped a few metres down the driveway for Amit to open his door and be sick.

  ‘Are you ok?’

  ‘Are you talking to me or the third chuckle brother here?’ Ben replied, his head out of the other back window like a terr
ier.

  ‘Him, but sort of you too. I remember how crap you are with blood.’

  ‘Put it this way, it’s going to be touch and go which one of us is sick next.’

  ‘Would you like me to come too? You can sit in the front, I’ll go in the back with Mr. Breakdance.’

  ‘Would you do that? Are you sure? Your admirers over there will be a bit pissed off.’

  Eve looked back at the hotel where Bobby and Andrew were stood shoulder to shoulder on the front step, their hands in their pockets looking at the taxi. ‘Just get in the front seat, Ben.’

  It wasn’t the ending to this wedding Eve had envisioned, but she also knew that Amit would have a greater chance of getting to the hospital and not a casino if she chaperoned him and Ben.

  ‘Eve, wait!’

  Becca was running up the driveway. Bobby and Andrew had breathlessly jogged to join Becca. ‘What do you think we should do now? It’s only ten o clock, it’s too early to call time on the party isn’t it? But then would it be in poor taste to continue?’ Becca said.

  ‘Why are you asking me?’ Eve asked.

  ‘Aren’t you the guru of all things weddings?’

  ‘I can honestly say that this situation has never popped up before. I’m in unchartered territory.’ Eve closed her door and said out of the window. ‘Right, Bobby, go and change your shirt,’ Eve said, gesturing at his blood-soaked chest, where another button had opened, revealing even more dark curled hair. ‘You look like you’ve committed a murder.’ There were less than four seconds between Bobby disappearing inside, and Andrew taking out his phone and saying, ‘Before I forget, can I get your number now?’

  Eve couldn’t fault his opportunism, his eagerness, or his timing, with Ben being in gratifying earshot. But before she could reply, Ben did. ‘It’s not really the best time mate, maybe ask her later.’ He then told the driver to start driving.

  ‘That was a bit rude.’ Eve said as the car revved away.

  ‘But he wasn’t? Asking for your number while our friend is dying?’

  Amit groaned next to Eve. ‘He’s not dying Ben. Well, maybe of embarrassment, but a broken nose is not life-threatening. Reputation-threatening yes, but life-threatening, no.’

  ‘He seems a bit of a twat.’

  ‘Don’t be mean about Amit, he’s sat right here.’

  ‘I meant your fancy man, as you well know.’

  ‘He’s not my fancy man, and anyway, even if he was, it’s none of your business.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Fine.’

  The rest of the journey to hospital was undertaken in silence, Eve rubbed Amit’s back from time to time and changed his bloodied hotel towel for a new one at one point too, while Ben stared resolutely ahead out of the windscreen. Eve didn’t know whether it was because of the blood in the back or their heated exchange.

  After checking Amit in with the triage nurse, Eve and Ben were left alone in the waiting room of A&E.

  ‘Red?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m not feeling so good.’

  Ben’s face had taken on a greenish tinge, no doubt brought on by the sight of a pair of brawling teenagers who were sat opposite them with oozing open cuts on their faces and hands.

  ‘Do you want some air?’

  ‘I’m aware this sounds extremely undignified, but can you help me walk as I think I’m about to keel over.’

  Eve helped Ben to his feet, and across the bleached white tiles to the door. They sat on a bench overlooking the dark car park.

  ‘Better?’

  ‘Much.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just say to the other ushers that you couldn’t bring him because you’re scared of blood?’

  ‘I am not scared of blood. I have haemophobia, it’s a legitimate phobia.’

  ‘Giving it a fancy Latin name doesn’t make it better, Ben.’

  ‘Excuse me Red, but you’re scared of snow.’

  ‘A-hem. Chionophobia if you don’t mind.’

  Ben laughed. ‘Oh sorry, Chionophobia. Because that’s a real thing.’

  ‘It is absolutely a real thing! Much like zemmiphobia, which is the fear of the great mole rat.’

  ‘Now that one I can understand, they’re vicious buggers. But snow? Everyone loves snow.’

  ‘Look, my fear incapacitates me for what? Three days a year? You have the potential to throw up if you get a paper cut.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve always loved about you, Red, your endless capacity for empathy and compassion.’

  What he’s always loved about me.

  ‘What about slushies? Can you have them?’ Ben asked.

  ‘I can indeed have slushies. Should the mood for processed ice and food colouring take me. I think you’re mocking my affliction.’

  ‘You’re mocking mine.’

  ‘I am not! I offered to come here with you to save you from yours. You should be thanking me.’

  ‘Thank you. To show my appreciation, I may well buy you an advocaat and lemonade cocktail, otherwise known as a Snowball.’

  ‘And I’ll get you a Bloody Mary. Then we’ll be quits.’

  ‘So I’m done,’ Amit announced, standing in the doorway of A&E with three wide white stripes of tape across his nose. ‘Now I need another drink.’

  As the trio walked across the carpeted floor of the hotel’s hallway back towards the wedding reception, Bobby was coming down the stairs. Ben and Amit went on ahead, while Eve waited at the bottom of the stairs for him. He’d changed his shirt and evidently showered and spritzed himself with some deodorant and aftershave – which gave him the upper hand over Eve, who, after a couple of hours of enthusiastic dancing, taxi-ing and sitting in casualty had become a little fragrant.

  ‘That was quick,’ Bobby said.

  ‘Didn’t want to miss any more of the party.’

  ‘Is Amit ok?’

  Eve smiled. ‘I can’t comment on his state of mind, considering the humiliation, but his nose will be fine. It was pretty impressive stuff you did back there, springing into paramedic mode.’

  ‘It was almost as if I planned it,’ Bobby smiled.

  Eve gasped. ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘Of course not! Amit’s a good mate, but even he wouldn’t break his nose on his wedding day in order to help me impress a girl I liked.’

  A smile played on Eve’s lips. ‘A girl you liked?’

  Bobby grinned back. ‘Yes, there’s a small brunette in there that I had my eye on.’

  ‘Oh, bad news, I think she left already. But you can buy me a drink if you’d like to?’ Eve had no idea what had got into her, she was never normally this flirty or forward.

  ‘I’d love to,’ Bobby said.

  The second they walked into the small ballroom they sensed the mood had changed, and not just because of the groom’s maiming incident. Left to his own devices, Brokenhearted Sam had lined up a playlist so depressing he’d blanketed the whole room in misery, forcing everyone out onto the terrace.

  ‘Looks like the party’s over,’ Bobby said.

  ‘Let’s find Ayesha, and see what the plan is.’

  Ayesha’s plan was seemingly to get as trolleyed as possible. They found her lying across her cousins’ knees on an outside sofa. Her eyes were open but glassy, and she even had a cigarette in hand, which Eve guessed was her first since leaving university.

  ‘Hey Ayesha.’ Eve squatted down next to the sofa. ‘We’re back, it’s half eleven, most of the guests are still here, and the DJ’s booked until one, what do you want to do? I can tell everyone to shuffle off home, or we can get the party started again, your call.’

  Ayesha sat up, aided a little bit by one of her cousins tugging at her, while another one pushed. ‘Party started. Definitely party started. Drink?’ She offered Eve her glass, which had a dead fly and a crouton in it.

  ‘No, you’re ok. Let me take that. Ok, party started, no problem.’ Eve dispatched Becca to go and sweet-talk the barman into making jugs of cocktails, and to also
get Ayesha a tonic water masquerading as something more potent. Eve and Bobby headed for the DJ desk to curtail the melancholy and find some Wham!.

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’ Tanya asked sweetly, popping up from nowhere. ‘What a disaster this is.’ She made no attempt to make the words convey an aura of tragedy, more gleeful amusement.

  ‘As soon as we’ve got the music started, you can start to usher people back in from outside if you like.’

  ‘That’s what I love about you Eve, your optimism in the face of catastrophe. You can change the song to whatever you want, but there’s no saving this wedding. We might as well all go home.’

  ‘I disagree,’ Eve replied through gritted teeth, desperately scanning Sam’s laptop for upbeat tunes. ‘Ayesha and Amit are our friends, and we owe it to them to help them make the best of it.’

  Tanya inspected her perfect manicure. ‘Just give up Eve, you’re flogging a dead horse. I know you all laughed at my level of preparation for my wedding, but this is exactly what happens when you leave things to chance.’

  ‘See, that’s where we differ Tanya, I don’t think that you can orchestrate things like fun. But don’t let me stop you leaving if you really want to.’

  ‘A friend of yours?’ Bobby asked as Tanya walked stiffly away.

  ‘Do you have friends from way back when, who if you met now there’s no way on God’s green earth that you’d be friends? Well, that’s me and Tanya.’

  It took four jugs of cosmopolitans, five flamingoes, the cheesiest tunes she could find, and some forceful coercing for the guests to leave the tranquility of the terrace, but finally, finally, the party was resuscitated.

  ‘I didn’t realise weddings were such hard work,’ Andrew said, a couple of hours later, as he and Eve helped load the last of the DJ’s equipment into his little Toyota. ‘I just came for the free booze and sparkling company, and now I’m knackered.’

  They were standing outside, just in front of the ivy-covered hotel. The village beyond the gates was in darkness, the air was cold and crisp. Not for the first time that day Eve wished she had a shawl or a cardigan – earlier to cover up her ridiculous breast poppies, and now for warmth.