Page 4 of Take a Moment

‘OK, I hear you. You’ve a lot going on right now. I’m just…concerned.’

‘Well, don’t be. I’m fine. I may have a lot on, but it’s stuff that’s really important to me: great career, great man – soon to be my husband. I’m planning the wedding of my dreams, Sash. And I love running – plus it’s good for me. That’s allgoodstress. One little cold is hardly going to floor me.’

‘I know. I get all that.’ Sasha comes to a standstill. She chews her lip, uncertain whether to risk another ear-bashing or take the easy option and play ball. She opts for the former. ‘I’m just saying planning a wedding is one of the most stressful things you can do, even if it is good stress as you say – and you’re only a few months into your new job. If you’re getting sick, it can all add up.’

I study my friend’s concerned face and smile at her affectionately. Sash and Lex. Joined at the hip since ninety-three. Her, the hesitant worrier. Me, the impulsive go-getter. Such opposites. But together, a perfect harmony.

‘Sash, I’m fine. I promise.’ My tone is gentler than before. ‘But that’s reminded me, we need to talk wedding stuff. So, maybe we can walk the rest of the way back to the office.’

‘Fabulous idea.’

Sasha zips up her hooded top to protect her from the chill of the spring breeze. She links arms with me and we start to amble along the tarmacked path, breathing in the delicate scent from the flowering cherry blossom trees.

‘How’s the entertainment side of things going, by the way?’ she asks. ‘Did Dom cave on the karaoke?’

‘Of course he did.’ I crack a sly smile. ‘He knows what’s good for him. Karaoke will be straight after the buffet – when everyone’s loosened up enough to have a go. Then the band will finish off the night with the classics.’

‘Is “Loch Lomond” going to be your big finale? I love that song so much.’

‘Yup.’

‘Oh, I can’t wait! It will be totally amazing. And seeing you sing in your wedding dress, with that incredible voice. You’re going to blow everyone away.’ She starts to flap her free hand in front of her face as her eyes redden and the emotion threatens to spill over.

‘Calm yourself. I’m hardly Leona Lewis.’

‘I know that.’ Sasha dabs at the corners of her eyes with her sleeves. ‘But you’re way better than you realise. What are you going to sing? Have you had any thoughts?’

‘I’ve been plotting.’ I grin mischievously. ‘It’s a surprise though.’

‘Oh, come on. You can tell me.’

‘Nope. This one is between me and the karaoke compère. You’ll have to wait.’

‘Bah humbug.’ Sasha pouts at me, but I know she’s grudgingly respecting my silence on this.

I decide a swift change of subject is needed. ‘So, other stuff. We need some shoes to go with that stunning dress of yours.’

My diversion works a treat.

‘I can’t wait to try on my bridesmaid dress again. It’s justsooogorgeous,’ Sasha gushes. ‘What were you thinking? I wondered about strappy silver, bit of bling as a contrast to the teal?’

‘And that’s why I love you.’ I pull her in for a sideways hug, trying to ignore the fact that my body feels like a lead weight. ‘Exactly what I was thinking.’

Back at our Anderston-based office, after a quick shower and change we head in opposite directions, an afternoon of wedding shoe shopping synced in our smartphone calendars for the coming weekend.

As I hurry along the fourth-floor corridor to my project meeting, I pass a few colleagues from the marketing department where Sasha works, and offer polite greetings as I go. My legs feel heavy, my muscles still complaining, making me wonder if Sasha’s right. Maybe I should take a short break from running – just for a week, til I’m over my cold. Don’t want to risk putting myself out of the game even longer by being stubborn. Thatwouldget in the way of me reaching my goal weight for my big day.

I reach the meeting room and discover that my project team are already there.

‘Hi, everyone.’ I grin as I scan each face in the room. ‘Great timing, as ever. Youreallydo like to make me look bad.’

There’s a collective chuckle in response.

‘How are we all?’ I half-glance at them as I haul my laptop and project documents out of my overfilled bag. As I do, my hand seems to slip, and my papers make a dramatic bid for escape, scattering across the carpeted floor.

‘Dammit,’ I curse, bending to pick them up. ‘Sorry guys. Let me sort these and we’ll get started.’ Two members of my project team rush forward to help me.

‘Afternoon, Alex.’ An affable female voice comes from behind me. ‘Good to see you in control as always.’

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