by Carol Thomas
34
As the speeches and thank-yous overran, the wedding breakfast merged into the evening do. Dessert had barely been served to the back tables as more guests started to arrive and stand in open doorways around the edge of the room. It was the kind of thing that might have ordinarily tipped Melissa but she didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact she was beckoning them in, much to the unease of the poor wedding co-ordinator who was trying to organise the waiters and waitresses as they attempted to ready the room for the evening around those still eating their orange crème brûlée with pine nut shortbread.
After a little flapping, and a good deal of ushering, the bulk of the guests were encouraged to go outside where it was decided that, as a cunning ploy to clear the room, the cake would be cut and served along with more drinks.
“Seen it on telly but never tried it,” Patty announced as they all watched Adam and Melissa slice into the cake.
Abby looked at her, confused. “Did you not do cake at your wedding?”
“Of course we did, I’ve still got a tier in the freezer. It’s lasted longer than the marriage.”
“Oh… sorry…” Abby felt bad at having bought up Patty’s failed marriage; she must have been dealing with her own issues at the wedding too. Chastising herself for not having thought of that earlier and checking Patty was OK, she smiled and ventured to change the subject. “Then what haven’t you tried?”
“Anything from Choccywoccywotsit,” Patty tutted, like it was obvious.
Abby laughed. “Oh, you’ll love it! Our… my…”
Brad offered a small smile and headed off in the direction of the drinks table.
“I’ve had cake from there. It’s delicious,” Abby finished.
When Abby found Brad amongst the other guests he held out a napkin for her with something wrapped inside.
“Open it.” He grinned.
Abby smiled at the sight of a white chocolate cherub. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to take a piece of sponge from the plate, not a cherub off the side of the remaining cake!”
“It wasn’t my fault, it kind of fell off as I passed.” Moving closer he whispered, “Maybe it was destined to come this way.”
Abby licked her lips – though she wasn’t sure it was at the thought of the cake.
“That looks amaaaaazing!” Patty cooed, appearing at Abby’s side. “How shall we divvy him up?”
Brad sighed. “I’ll get more napkins.”
When they returned inside there were fewer tables, a few more chairs, a dance floor, a disco and an open bar. It was well and truly party time. Having drifted back together the entire school crowd sat near the dance floor and the conversation turned to where the happy couple’s secret honeymoon destination might be. It was the only thing Adam insisted Melissa should relinquish control of; he wanted to organise it as a present to his new bride.
“Well for his sake I hope it’s bloody amazing!” Patty guffawed. “Ooh, Abby do you know if she got him anything? I mean, how do you top a honeymoon?”
All eyes turned to Abby as her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Not that I know of,” she lied, remembering the gift Melissa had drunkenly ordered at Patty’s lingerie party. She took a swig of her drink and added with an air of finality, “I’m sure they’ll have a great time.” Thank goodness all orders were private!
As the first dance was announced Melissa sashayed onto the dance floor looking relaxed and blissfully happy. She giggled wildly as Adam, on a post-nuptial alcohol-fuelled high, swept her into his arms a little too lustfully. Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years, started to play and Jo Simms sighed.
“Seriously, do you think they’ll go to the cinema less once they’re married?”
Abby ignored her. Melissa loved a theme and besides, if Edward and Bella’s music did it for her then so what? Perhaps Mr Darcy is out and vampires are in! They looked great dancing together, a little too great actually. Abby wondered if they had sneaked a few pre-wedding lessons. She and Simon tended to stick to the one-foot-to-the-other, slow-sway-and-spin version of slow dancing saved for such occasions as weddings and family parties. Melissa and Adam clearly had more flair to their moves than that. Abby wondered why Jo had come if all she wanted to do was be cynical, then she reprimanded herself for her own hypocrisy. If anybody had heard her inner monologue at the ceremony she might also stand guilty as charged.
As the happy couple’s dance finished with a lingering kiss the party classics began and Melissa’s friends rushed onto the dance floor, stealing her away from a begrudging Adam. They all looked stunning, a bit merry and certainly up for a party. Their colourful dresses contrasted with Melissa’s and her bridesmaids’ as they stood in a line ready to dance. Abby looked on with a tinge of envy as they all dipped and turned in time to the music. She could only imagine how many times they had all done it before, countless dances from sleepovers, birthday parties, school discos and clubbing, to being all grown up and dancing at each others’ weddings; some of them had clearly shared at least a decade. They looked great and obviously knew the routine well. The Macarena had always remained an enigma to Abby, who had the general co-ordination of Bambi on ice.
The buffet table opened and was soon being obliterated by Adam and his rugby friends, their raucous laughter mixing with the loud music as they looked approvingly towards the dance floor. They were obviously a solid bunch of friends, proud of their mate on his big day and jibing him about being married at the same time. Not that Adam cared, the glint in his eye each time he glanced at his wife left everybody in no doubt that he was thoroughly smitten and couldn’t wait to get her all to himself. With a dance-walk combo as he made his way across the dance floor, Melissa’s dad joined them, putting his arm round Adam’s shoulder and slipping easily into their alcohol-fuelled banter. Abby smiled.
Melissa’s mum was obviously pleased the more formal part of the day was over too. Her hat had long since been forgotten and she sat with her legs a little too far apart, a glass of champagne, a cup of tea and a large slice of wedding cake set out in front of her as she entertained the two youngest bridesmaids. While Abby had barely noticed them in the church, she couldn’t help but think how cute they looked now. The girls reminded her of Jessica and Grace: they had been so good all day, posing for pictures and sitting happily through the speeches and meal. Now their hair was looking a little ruffled and their sparkly silver shoes had been replaced with white Crocs. The glow of their cheeks reflected the dedication with which they had flung themselves around the dance floor in an effort to keep up with Melissa and her friends before commencing their mission to collect every piece of table confetti they could find.
Brad sat down next to Abby, his tie pulled loose and his top button open. His eyes sparkled, his pupils were dark and dilated; she wondered how many drinks he had polished off at the bar while getting the round in.
“Weddings are the best for people watching, don’t you think?” Abby gestured across the room.
Not wanting to reveal that the only person he had been watching from the other side of the room was her, Brad placed Abby’s drink on the table and looked across the dance floor. “I guess.”
“Such a mismatch of people. Great isn’t it? Honestly it’s the only time you ever expect people from all areas of your life to come together. People you ordinarily wouldn’t dream of putting in the same room all get invited to your… I mean, a wedding.” Shut up Abby!
“Especially the evening do by the look of it.” Brad grinned. “Who do you reckon was on the subs list?”
Relieved at the sight of his grin, and that she hadn’t put her enormous foot in it yet again, Abby hit his arm. “Brad, that’s bad!”
“OK, I’m missing the film theme now – do you think he might play something other than party songs if I remind the DJ of it?” Jo laughed with a roll of her eyes.
“Whigfield not for you Jo?” Brad asked cheekily.
Jo stuck her tongue out and headed for the buffet table. As she strutted acro
ss the dance floor the song changed; it seemed the film theme was back on and The Time Of My Life started. Brad, Patty and Abby watched in shocked amusement as one of Adam’s mates threw himself on one knee in front of Jo and started miming the words in the style of Patrick Swayze.
“Oh no!” Abby blushed for her.
“This could be interesting.” Brad laughed, expecting that the man might regret his move and be bent on one knee for a whole other reason any minute.
“Lucky cow!” Patty sighed; clearly her divorce wasn’t playing on her mind in quite the way Abby thought it might be.
A stunned silence spread along their row as Jo, seemingly unfazed, mouthed back the second line, put her hand out, pulled the man to his feet and started grinding towards him.
“What the… bet he didn’t expect that!” Brad exclaimed.
“I certainly didn’t,” Patty laughed before booming, “GO JO!”
“She’s actually dirty dancing! Jo Simms is dirty dancing!” Abby was gobsmacked.
Jo looked in her element and the man didn’t seem to mind either.
“Who’d have thought?” Abby asked nobody in particular.
They all stared, eyes and mouths agape.
“Fancy giving them a run for their money?” Brad turned to Abby with a smile.
“Oh no! No, no, no. No way!” Abby shook her head, as if saying no five times hadn’t quite been enough to make her point.
“But you can’t just sit here all night,” Brad protested.
“I will!” Patty leapt to her feet and tugged at Brad’s hand before Abby could respond.
Brad looked at Abby and pulled a ‘yikes’ face that made her giggle.
“Go on Patty, have fun,” Abby teasingly encouraged, but as she watched Patty press herself up to Brad and wiggle in ways she never saw in Dirty Dancing, Abby found it less funny. Jo was having a great time; who knew she had it in her? Patty had accosted Brad and Abby was left watching, and it was her own fault for not being brave enough. Now she was… well… a bloody wallflower!
35
“Hey you, not dancing?”
“No… not yet anyway.”
“Good, you can help me to the loo, my bridesmaids have gone AWOL and I’ve no idea how to go in this dress. I’m not sure how I’ve waited this long.”
Abby laughed. A thoroughly sober Melissa would never have asked her to accompany her to the toilet, let alone stamp her feet and pull her to standing as a sign of her desperation; she was clearly enjoying the less formal part of the day and the free-flowing champagne too. Pleased to have a purpose to leave her post as wallflower Abby followed obediently. She remembered enlisting Rachel as her toilet buddy at her own wedding and tried to remember how they had co-ordinated the situation.
While Melissa’s dress was far less meringue-like than Abby’s it was still very much a two-woman task; it seemed all bridal attire from the full-length wedding dress to the complicated underwear conspired against dignity and practicality when it came to going to the loo. There was no way they could actually shut the door with Abby leaning in and holding up reams of satin round Melissa’s ears. By the time Melissa was actually on the toilet they had said “to you, to me” so many times Abby felt like she had auditioned to become the third member of the Chuckle Brothers.
“Oh no, I’m too bursting to go!” Melissa cursed before whistling.
Abby looked at her, perplexed. “Why are you whistling?”
“Apparently, it works for horses!”
With that they both roared with laughter just as Adam’s mum entered the toilet, turned cerise at the surprise sight of her new daughter-in-law and hurriedly left. That was it; they both lost control, holding their stomachs and giggling like a pair of schoolgirls. At least the release of tension helped achieve the task in hand.
Attempting to regain their composure they fussed around readjusting Melissa’s dress and straightening themselves out.
Abby paused and looked at Melissa. “I’m so happy for you. I really am. It’s been a really lovely day. Thanks so much for inviting me and for… and, well… everything… you know.”
Melissa pulled her into a hug. “Ahhh Abby, thank you too. I’m so glad you’re here and you look bloody brilliant.”
Melissa’s enthusiasm was more than a little alcohol-fuelled but Abby welcomed the compliment – she had worked towards it over the preceding months; aiming to get in shape, both physically and mentally, for the wedding had kept her going at times.
“Savour every moment of today and every happy moment that follows Melissa, really hold on to what you have.” Tears pricked at Abby’s eyes, she wasn’t meaning to get emotional and she was determined not to add it could all be gone before you know it, no matter how keenly she felt the sentiment.
“I will,” Melissa promised, dabbing at her own eyes. “Now stop, or you’ll have us both looking like pandas!”
Returning to the reception meant Melissa was in popular demand again and Abby had to let her go, but she was glad to have had the chance to say the things she wanted to say. A smile crept across her face as she saw Adam’s mum, and faded abruptly when she met Brad’s stern expression at the table.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, rolling his eyes in Patty’s direction.
Oops. Clearly she was in trouble for deserting him. “I was on an important mission with the bride!” Abby insisted.
“Oh really?” Brad stood, removing himself from Patty’s grasp. “Well now, Abigail Turner, you owe me this dance!”
Oh my, he’s getting all masterful! Brad held out his hand. Abby took a moment to register what was playing. The dance tracks were back! DJ Casper’s Cha Cha Slide had just started with the promise of getting funky. Abby felt fear, dread and anxiety building in her stomach – she hadn’t been ‘funky’ for about a decade, if ever.
“Come on.” Brad lowered his voice; it was slightly deeper from the alcohol anyway and the overall effect gave her tingles. Along with his dark brown, pleading eyes and the curve of his lovely mouth she found it all very persuasive. “It even tells you what moves to do, you can’t go wrong.”
Brad beckoned her as the song got going and everybody on the dance floor clapped as one. Abby looked across the sea of people and saw Jo, still dancing and very much entwined with her rugby man. Sod it, if she can do it I’m sure I bloody well can! Just as Patty was about to leap in, Abby stood and took Brad’s warm hand in hers. About to head to the dance floor Abby turned and gulped down the remainder of her drink. As her knees slightly numbed she giggled – well, it wasn’t like it was actually going to affect her dancing.
Feeling rather less ridiculous than she feared Abby joined in, following Brad’s lead and giggling wildly as she got the moves wrong.
“Oh my God, it’s like bloody Zumba,” Abby laughed, remembering the DVD she had bought and promptly abandoned after tying herself in knots and falling over Bramble on her first attempt.
“You’re doing great, besides, nobody cares.”
Brad was right. Abby looked around the room; nobody was pointing or laughing at her, nobody cared if she made a tit of herself. Her own inhibitions were the only thing preventing her from really letting go. Feeling Brad move next to her, laughing with him and occasionally jostling into him – oops – increasingly freed Abby’s mind. She decided to go with it; enjoy the moment. It was very liberating.
There was something about being with Brad that made her do things she wouldn’t normally do. He brought something out in her, something that had been lost in the monotony of life. Perhaps it was her spirit for adventure, she didn’t know. But whatever it was she could feel it awakening inside her. She was a little fascinated by it and at the same time a bit frightened about where it might lead. She didn’t behave like herself when she was with Brad, or maybe she did and this was her new self, her post-Simon self. She dismissed the thought; she didn’t want to think about that.
Even Abby felt that Steps’ Tragedy seemed a little inappropriate for a wedding. Nevertheless
it was a crowd-puller and Abby welcomed the fact that she knew some of the actions. What girl doesn’t? Abby grinned, watching Patty and Jo throw themselves wholeheartedly into their moves. Even Melissa and her mostly loved-up friends were action-perfect, while Abby and Brad made up a few of their own – feigning tragedy and longing in equal measure as the song dictated, much to their own amusement.
Giggling and breathing heavily they stopped to have a drink. Though Brad offered to get her something from the bar Abby swigged down a glass of water. She wanted to keep a clear head. The water was cool and refreshing as it slipped down. Luckily the open doors around the room prevented it from becoming too hot, otherwise she would have combusted with the amount of dancing she was doing. Abby checked her shoes and bag were still where she had discarded them and momentarily considered checking her phone before being distracted by a familiar tune. Unable to resist YMCA she grabbed Brad’s hand and led him onto the dance floor. As it was a school disco classic she knew she was on safe ground. The children loved it when the teachers joined in and YMCA, along with Black Lace’s Superman song, that she suspected wouldn’t get played, were among the few songs that featured on her limited disco-dancing repertoire.
Once the song ended and the DJ announced a change of tempo with Take That Abby momentarily froze. She couldn’t listen to Patience; it would call to the darkness she had shunned from the earlier part of the day. She didn’t want to be pulled back down from the happy cloud she was occupying. As Rule The World began and Brad’s arms slipped around her like a big, safe comfort blanket she relaxed too easily into them. If he had asked if she wanted to slow-dance she probably would have declined, but he hadn’t and once she felt herself so close to him it was too late. She succumbed too easily to feeling herself entwined with him.
