by Katie Fforde
‘You surprise me,' murmured Bron, who was starting to feel giggly. It was all so silly.
‘And, finally, she has to get up on that stage and swing round the pole!'
‘But she's pregnant!' said Sarah, unable to stop herself. 'She shouldn't be doing things like that!' Then she wished she'd kept her mouth shut.
‘Oh, and the drinks?' Charlene ignored Sarah's protest and was again checking to make sure everyone was listening.
‘We drink with our right hands for the first half-hour and our left for the second. Anyone gets it wrong, they have to put a couple of quid in the middle. Then we buy the next round.'
‘That sounds complicated!' said Elsa, struggling to join in.
‘Well, it doesn't matter if you mess up, it just gives us more money to drink with,' said Charlene.
‘Right,' said Elsa, hoping she wouldn't have to find a cash machine.
‘The male strippers come later,' went on Charlene. 'It's a full Monty, so I hope nobody's prudish.'
‘As if!' said Bron, with an Oscar-winning display of enthusiasm. 'Bring on Robbie Coltrane, I say.’
Elsa leant in and whispered behind her hand, 'I think you'll find you mean Robert Carlyle.'
‘Mm, maybe I do,' she agreed, laughing in spite of everything.
They had a few more rounds of drinks. Lily ticked off various things on her list while the others had to go through a collection of suitable hen-night games until Charlene suddenly called out, 'Flies!' and with a varying degree of alacrity, everyone except Bron, Elsa and Sarah, who looked on bemused, and Lily, who was allowed to just watch and laugh, threw themselves down on the floor and waved their arms and legs in the air. Sarah, feeling as if she was indeed a dying insect, looked at her watch. Ten past ten. No chance of going home for at least a couple of hours.
‘OK!' Charlene, who had obviously missed her vocation as a drum majorette or sergeant major, got to her feet. 'More drinks! Come on, you lot.' She looked pointedly in Sarah's direction. 'Join in.'
‘I asked those guys over there to play flies,' said one of Lily's other friends, 'but they wouldn't. They're wearing kilts. I think they're being spoilsports.’
Unusually for her, it took Sarah several moments to pick up the significance of this and she realised her brain just wasn't operating at its usual speed. 'Could I just have water this round?'
‘Nope,' said Charlene. 'You had water last time. I want everyone to have a proper drink while the show is on.’
Lily, who had discovered a real talent for picking on men on stag dos who were up for a laugh, said, 'Yes, lighten up, Sares. You're supposed to be having fun. That man was only being friendly, you know.’
Sarah smiled guiltily, remembering the young man she'd sent away with a flea in his ear. 'I know and I am having fun. How are you getting on with your list?'
‘I've just got to snog a stag.'
‘But you've snogged at least three people, haven't you?' Lily nodded. 'But they lied to me and said they were the stag when they weren't. It's my last dare,' she said comfortingly, as if that made everything all right. Gaily, she went off on her mission.
Charlene came back and handed out the drinks. Sarah took a glass. It was pink and fruity and sweet and for a blissful few sips, Sarah thought it might be non-alcoholic.
Too late she felt its kick and realised she'd drunk a very strong cocktail very quickly. How many had she had? she wondered. She'd lost count. She would definitely have water next time.
The crowd were going wild. The five men on the stage were gyrating wildly, their polished muscles gleaming. Sarah, who'd accepted yet another cocktail by mistake and then decided she might as well give up her futile attempt at counting, did appreciate they were good at what they were doing, and all had very good bodies, but she didn't really enjoy it.
She glanced at Elsa and Bron who also had glazed expressions on their faces. Lily, Charlene and the other two, whose names Sarah had never quite grasped, were jumping up and down screaming with glee. Lily had already been invited on stage to join in the show. She'd been very good, Sarah admitted, not at all embarrassed by the things she was asked to do by a man wearing nothing but a feather-thong. If only she felt more in the mood for all this. Being a wedding planner was making her old before her time! Maybe she should stop feeling so responsible. Lily was an adult, after all.
‘OK, Sarah?' Elsa shouted into her ear, obviously aware that her friend was not enjoying herself.
‘I just need a glass of water. I don't know how many of those cocktails I've had, and they're so sweet.'
‘I'll get you one if you like,' said Elsa.
‘I'll go!' said Sarah, rising from her seat and then sitting down again. She was suddenly aware that she'd had far too much to drink.
‘It's all right,' said Elsa. 'I won't have to pay for it, I don't think. I've run out of money.'
‘There's some in my bag if you need it,' said Sarah. 'I got some out before I came.' She burrowed under her feet and found her bag, and in it, her purse. 'Oh. I don't know how I can have spent all that money.'
‘I'll get the water. Then it must be time to go home!’
Somehow Charlene roped them into yet another game of truth or dare, and, already rather befuddled, Sarah found herself having to down a few more drinks as a forfeit. She felt a desperate urge to lie down but first she really needed to find the Ladies.
When she came out again it seemed to take her a while to find the door of the building but at last she got out on to the pavement. Elsa and Bron were there, looking concerned.
‘Charlene took Lily and the others in the limo. They said if we didn't want to go to another club we didn't have to,' she said.
‘That's good,' said Sarah, aware of having to enunciate very carefully, as well as keep herself upright; everything was weaving in and out of focus horribly quickly. 'I really don't want any more to drink. I've had too much already. Let's call a – a – car that takes you places.’
She watched as Bron and Elsa went through their purses, looking for money. 'Take mine,' she said grandly, swaying and steadying herself against a wall. 'I've got plenty of money.'
‘No you haven't,' said Elsa. 'Yours has been rifled already. Those cocktails were very expensive.’
Sarah felt very very tired and sat on a convenient step. 'If I have a little rest first we can walk home.'
‘I don't think so,' said Elsa firmly as she and Bron exchanged glances. They'd never seen Sarah like this. They all needed to get home, and safely. 'First off, these shoes are killing me and second, it's bloody miles away.'
‘Oh,' said Sarah, and closed her eyes.
‘We need to phone someone,' said Bron.
‘Who? I'm not phoning my dad – only as a last resort, anyway,' said Elsa. 'I don't mind calling him if I'm lost and need, to be given directions, but he'll have had a glass or two of wine by now, or be in bed. And Laurence is away.'
‘Well, I can't phone James. He gets up really early. It wouldn't be fair.’
Sarah opened her eyes briefly when she heard either Elsa or Bron say, 'Hugo!'
‘Oh yes,' she murmured and closed her eyes again.
*
Sarah seemed to have been asleep for a long time. She'd had some very strange dreams including a car ride and Hugo. He was taking her somewhere. Bron and Elsa were there and they seemed to be talking about her, but she couldn't really understand what they were saying. Then she woke up and it was all real, if still a little hazy.
‘Thank goodness I wasn't dreaming that I was walking down the street naked,' she said and Hugo, who seemed to be on his own now, laughed.
‘Come on, sweetheart, let's get you to bed.'
‘I don't want to go to bed with you, Hugo. Even if I do really like you.'
‘Do you?’
Sarah nodded. 'Mm. But I'm not going to sleep with you because you'll break my heart.'
‘You don't have to sleep with me, but I wouldn't break your heart at all.'
‘Wouldn't you?'
*
In the morning it all came back to her in terrifying detail. She realised that not only had Hugo taken most of her clothes off and tucked her into bed, but he'd left a big glass of water and bowl handy for her. Realising that he'd seen her when she was very, very drunk was more painful than the hangover.
‘Have a bacon sandwich,' he advised when he rang her a little later to see if she was all right. 'And a pint of orange juice.'
‘I'm so, so sorry,' she said, too ill to be embarrassed. Was it possible for a head actually to split open?
He laughed. 'You're a very endearing drunk, Sarah. Don't worry about it.’
When he was sure that she had what she needed to work on her hangover and had disconnected, Sarah remembered what she'd said about him breaking her heart. She also remembered him saying that he wouldn't. She hadn't believed him then and she didn't believe him now.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Bron was in her little garden, working on what she hoped was her last fake-cake, thinking that at least she was very quick at creating flowers in icing so when she came to do the real cake, in a couple of days' time, she should be an expert at it. She needed to be as Carrie's wedding was mere days away now.
‘Hi,' said a female voice. 'Am I disturbing you? I've come over to see how you're getting on, and to make a hair appointment, if I may.’
She looked up to see Vanessa.
‘My goodness!' Vanessa went on, gesturing towards what Bron was doing. 'Look at that! It's fantastic!’
Bron was pleased. 'It's the last. I'm hoping I won't need to do any more. Do you like them?'
‘They're beautiful! Could I commission you to do one for me?'
‘Of course. You might be able to have one of these when the wedding's over. I don't know what Carrie will want to do with them.'
‘To be honest, I'd rather have one without crystals,' said Vanessa.
‘Mm, I know what you mean, but I think as Carrie's dress is covered in them, the crystals are necessary. Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything?' asked Bron.
‘Yes, but I'll make it. What would you like?'
‘I've only got instant, I'm afraid,' said Bron, suddenly a little daunted by the thought of her landlady making her own coffee.
‘That's fine. Too much of the other stuff gives me the jitters.’
Bron laughed and started another flower. Now she was doing the top of the sphere, she had to stand on a box to work. She wondered why, if she wanted her hair doing, Vanessa hadn't just rung up to make an appointment. Did she have another reason for calling or was she just being friendly? When Vanessa came out a few minutes later with two steaming mugs and settled herself on the bench beside Bron, Bron soon realised that she definitely had something else to talk about. Once they'd fixed a time for Bron to do Vanessa's hair the following week and Vanessa had grilled her on Carrie's wedding preparations and said she couldn't wait for the next issue of Celeb to come out – she made it her business to keep up with all the gossip -she turned to Bron and said firmly, 'Now tell me, how are you and James getting on?’
Bron swallowed a big gulp of coffee. 'Well, we don't see much of each other, we're both very busy-'
‘I wondered,' Vanessa interrupted her. 'I noticed him helping you with your cakes.' She gave Bron a piercing glance. Had her landlady been spying on her? Knowing Vanessa, she wouldn't put it past her.
‘I think he's very attractive – not that I go for younger men – but he is good-looking, I've always thought,' Vanessa went on.
‘Yes, he is, very good-looking.' Bron was wary.
‘But you don't fancy him? No chemistry? I mean, it either works for you or it doesn't.’
Bron couldn't quite believe her landlady's audacity, then she laughed.
‘Oh, am I being too blunt? If you don't fancy him-''It's not that.' Bron blushed.
‘Ah, so you do like him?' Vanessa was obviously determined to find out. 'I was only saying to Donald the other night what a good pair you'd make. He told me not to interfere of course, but… Anyway, if you do fancy him, then what's the problem?’
Bron wondered if she should match Vanessa's frankness. Probably Vanessa would only prise it out of her eventually; she was like a terrier with a bone. Vanessa gave her an encouraging smile. Bron looked down at her coffee. Perhaps it would help if she confided in someone like Vanessa, it was sort of like confiding in her mother. 'I don't think he fancies me. I thought I'd given him enough hints. I've invited him to meals, given him cake, got him to come round to Elsa's with these' – she indicated the fake-cakes -'so he could see how nice my friends are, but nothing.' She sighed. 'If he fancied me, he'd have made a move by now, surely. We do get on well, but I think he just sees me as a friend.'
‘Nonsense! Of course he fancies you. Lovely girl like you, right next door. He is a man, after all.'
‘But as you said, if there's no chemistry..
Vanessa sipped her coffee and then shook her head. 'I'm sure it's not that.' She thought for a moment and then patted Bron's hand. 'It's possible he thinks it's too soon for you after…?' She paused.
‘Roger.'
‘Right. Well, no man wants to be a rebound. Too much pride. And although I don't know all the details, I got the impression he'd come out of a relationship that ended badly for him when he first came here, a couple of years ago. He probably didn't want you to rebound on him and break his heart all over again.'
‘Do you really think so?' Bron said quietly, realising there might be some truth in Vanessa's words. It was very soon after Roger and he might well think she was a complete slapper for even thinking about someone else so soon. He was probably trying to let her down gently. How embarrassing.
Vanessa warmed to her theme. 'I do. He's quite sensitive, you know.' She paused. 'So what are we going to do about it?'
‘About what?' Bron was puzzled.
Vanessa made a gesture that indicated Bron had missed something very simple. 'You must be proactive, darling! You must do something to make it happen. Good God! If women waited for men to get things going, the population would have died out millennia ago!'
‘Oh. Do you think so?'
‘It's a fact. Now, what are we going to do about that silly man not taking advantage of what's under his nose?’
Bron shrugged. 'He's being incredibly helpful. He made all the bases for these.' She indicated her tree. 'And he's made the framework for the real cake.'
‘You don't need a helpmate – although a man who's practical is a bonus…' Vanessa said, going off on another tangent. 'Mm, let me see… I know – you need to get him to the wedding. Why don't you ask him to drive you over? After all, you'll need help with those trees. You wouldn't get more than a couple in your little car.'
‘But he'd have to take time off work.' Bron began to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe Vanessa was right, and he just needed a little more prodding.
‘That's easy. I can help you there. He's got loads of holiday owing him. Tell you what, I'll suggest he takes you. He can say no if he really doesn't want to, but I think he just needs a bit of a push. How long are you staying over at the house where the wedding is?'
‘A couple of days. I don't really think I can transport the cake iced and it's going to take a while to do.' She took another sip of coffee. 'Although I am very good at these flowers now, it will be a bit different on the actual cake. And then when the cake's done, I have to do Carrie's hair and make-up. There are bridesmaids too, although they're little ones, so I won't need to do too much with them.'
‘Two or three days together should do the trick.' Vanessa was in her own little matchmaking world once more. 'He may feel it's not fair to jump on you when you're living next door in case you didn't appreciate it. It would be awkward if you didn't, after all.’
Bron sighed. 'I don't see what else-’
Vanessa patted her hand again in a mothering way. 'You'll think of something when you're thrown together in difficult
circumstances, but you've got to remember that men can be very slow.' She stood up and brushed her skirt down. 'Leave it to me, darling. I love matchmaking!’
*
James did take Bron to Somerby. She didn't know exactly what Vanessa had said to him, but he'd agreed he could take the time off and that helping Bron was a good thing to do. He'd gone to park the car and Rupert was going to tell him where to put the fake-cakes and the pack of dogs had followed them. Sarah was giving Bron a tour.
‘They've done so much to it!' Sarah was saying. 'I keep forgetting you didn't see it before, but it was quite empty and barren-looking, but now, it's amazing!’
As they wandered around, Bron made suitably impressed noises. It was amazing. A real country estate, like in a novel. Imagine anyone actually living here. As Sarah rattled on about this cornice and that, Bron sensed she was quite tense. It was a big job, finally pulling every- thing together, especially when you had your sister's wedding to attend to too.
‘You look tired, Sarah, are you OK?' asked Bron.
‘Oh yes, just pre-wedding nerves.' She laughed, in rather a forced way Bron felt. 'All wedding planners get them, worse than the bride.'
‘Is everyone here? Hugo?' She was dying to ask if anything had happened between Sarah and Hugo the other night.
‘Yes, he's here, already snapping away.'
‘I hope he didn't take advantage of you after Lily's hen night,' Bron teased. 'Elsa and I were a little worried, leaving you alone with him, but he was most insistent.’
Sarah groaned. 'Don't talk to me about that night. The evils of drink.'
‘But he looked after you OK?' Bron persisted.
‘Yes, of course. He put me to bed, left a big glass of water and a bowl and went home.’
Bron detected a note of disappointment in Sarah's voice. 'Is that all?' she asked.
‘Well, it was all rather embarrassing. I told him I liked him.'
‘And?'
‘It's no good, he can't like me..