by Lindy Dale
“And what exactly does that mean?” Sasha glared.
“Nothing. I just meant here we go with another bloody rugby wedding. Don’t you remember the last one?”
“Of course I do, it was mine. Alan got pissed and fell asleep at the table, leaving me to do the toast. Johnny and Womble did their own version of a Man Power strip show on the dance floor and Rambo,” Sasha stopped. Her eyes went wide with fear. “Oh, I see what you mean.”
“Exactly.”
They both turned to me and sighed. Melanie refilled my glass and Sasha gave my arm a patronising pat. “It’s super nice of you to ask me to help with your wedding, Millie, and truly I’d love nothing more, but seriously, it’s not too late to consider an elopement.”
*****
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Table of Contents
The Taming of the Bastard
Midpoint
