Page 9 of Something Borrowed

Jed hums thoughtfully. “Ah, yes. Just the right morning for a jog.”

I freeze for a second. “Hmm,” I say, thinking quickly. “Well, you know me, Jed. I get so deep into the details that I sometimes have to go for a quick run to clear my head.”

He stares at me disbelievingly. “In full morning suit and a top hat?”

“My client’s needs come before my own, Jed.” I’m quite proud of my tone of voice. It mingles a martyrish quality with a hint of gentle reproach.

He purses his lips, looking me up and down, his eyes catching and freezing at my chest level.

“Did you happen to lose the rest of your shirt on your run?” he enquires in a level tone.

Shit.

I wave a careless hand. “It’s the latest fashion. Don’t you follow wedding styles?”

He opens his mouth, but his epic dressing down is thwarted when Brian, one of the ushers, appears.

“Alright?” Brian asks, a slight slur in his voice. He uncaps a hip flask and offers it to us. “Hair of the dog?”

“No thanks,” Jed says, giving him a charming smile.

He offers it to me, and I shudder. “God, no.” Jed’s eyes narrow, and I hasten to add piously, “I don’t drink on the job, Brian.”

Jed relaxes, but Brian chooses that moment to slap me on the back. “Don’t suppose you could fit any more alcohol in you after last night. I saw you at the Pink Parrot, you dirty dog.”

I freeze, and Jed turns to me with a rather evil smile. “The Pink Parrot?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Brian,” I say repressively. “Goodness, maybe I have a doppelganger.” He opens his mouth to no doubt drop me in it further, but I smile rather manically. “No time to talk.”Ever again. “Oh, here’s the bride. How lovely.”

The Rolls Royce pulls to the curb, white ribbons moving in the summer breeze. The car door opens, and Moira appears, followed by about twenty miles of white tulle.

“Uncle Jed,” she cries. “Oh, it’s lovely to see you.”

Her father climbs out the other side and grins at my boss. “Looking spiffy, Jed,” he announces.

My boss shrugs. “I confess I feel a little overdressed now next to Rafferty.”

I roll my eyes and step forward. Moira shrieks when she sees me, and I’m gathered into a Coco-scented hug. “You look so gorgeous,” she announces when she pulls back. She tugs at my open shirt. “Well, this is novel.”

“Oh, it’s all the rage now,” I say airily. “We don’t go in for cravats this year. Far too fussy.”

Brian immediately tugs at his cravat, and I shoot a sunny smile at Jed. “Of course, there’ll always be the starchier members of the congregation who don’t catch on.”

I’m sure Jed’s lip twitches with amusement, but he bravely covers it up, and we make our way into the church.

An hour later, I sit back in my pew and relax a little. The vicar is currently saying a prayer, and the bride and groom’s fingers are now wearing lovely, shiny rings. The wedding went off without a hitch and with many a tear of happiness. Now it’s just the reception to get through, and at least there’ll be food there. And then home to Stan.

I think of my best friend and smile. It’s a Saturday, so I can go home to our shared flat and get into my old sweatpants and a T-shirt. He’ll play whatever vinyl he’s supposed to have sold in his shop but couldn’t bear to part with. I’ll offer my lucid criticism,which he’ll take the piss out of, and then he’ll critique the music much more knowledgeably. Then we’ll gossip and bitch the night away. Bliss.

My smile dies. Unless he’s out with Bennett tonight. I feel the customary lowering of my mood but shove it away.

My phone vibrates and distracts me from my thoughts. I look around nervously, but everyone is either glancing down at their hands or has their eyes closed as the vicar heads towards the end of the prayer. I ease out the phone from my pocket, and in his usual spooky way, Jed picks that moment to look over.

I freeze and then offer him a look which I hope conveys calm and authority.Bridal emergency, I mouth and frown as I see it’s a text from an unknown number. I look around and click on it surreptitiously.

Hey, babe. I'm just texting to see how you are. We must make arrangements for me to get my T-shirt back. It’s got a lot of personal significance, so I must have it back.

I bite my lip. The last time I saw his important shirt, it was heading towards Oxford Street on the body of another of my conquests. My life is very hard sometimes.

---