Page 46 of Wedding Games
‘It speaks!’ Charlie replied. ‘Now get downstairs. The receiving line is about to start, and it’s missing the most vital pieces.’
‘Okay, we’re coming.’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I think that happened about five minutes ago. Stop coming and start moving.’
Rory reached for the phone, cut the call, and let his head slump back on the bed.
‘Can’t we just stay here?’ he asked.
Zoe snorted with laughter. ‘Come on, it won’t be as bad as you think.’
It was.
Rory stood, a fixed smile on his face, shaking hands with people he barely knew or had never met before. He was positive his mother had squeezed in at least a hundred more guests, and the afterglow from his spectacular orgasm was rapidly fading, to be replaced with grim fortitude.
At least his old army buddies were now at the front of the queue
‘Mr Mike Hunt and Miss Fanny Munchin,’ a loud voice proclaimed.
‘Jez!’ a female voice hissed in shock.
Rory sighed. As each person or couple started at the beginning of the line, they were announced by Bentley, an old family friend with a voice so loud and cutting, it could shatter stone.
‘I’m actually called Daisy,’ the woman said as she shook Rory’s hand, her cheeks flushed pink.
Rory smiled at her. ‘Nice to meet you, Daisy. And I think Jez’s new name suits him better.’
‘Yes, it does, doesn’t it,’ she replied, glaring at her grinning boyfriend.
‘Mr Ivor Biggun and Ms Connie Lingus,’ Bentley continued.
‘Why the fuck did I invite you all?’ Rory growled at his friend.
‘Rory!’ his mother snapped by his side. ‘Language!’
Jez grinned. ‘Because we make Charlie look good.’
Rory gave a harumph and passed Jez to his mother.
She took his hand. ‘Jeremy, I see you haven’t changed.’
Rory gritted his teeth and bit back a sigh as Hugh Janus, Ivana Hafsechs, Eric Shun, and Anita Dick were announced. It was almost a relief when the line changed to people he barely remembered.
‘The Duke of Somerset, Mr Arthur Foxbrooke, and his two wives; Mrs Vivienne Boucher-Foxbrooke, the Duchess of Somerset, and Mrs Dervla Foxbrooke.’
‘Vivi! Brad yelled at the taller of the women.
Rory looked to his right, recognising the famous American actress and model that had married a Duke, and then fallen in love with an Irish single mum and invited her into the marriage. Rory had met them at various weddings and funerals and once when they visited his parent’s town house in Edinburgh. The three parents were irrepressibly eccentric, but he remembered their kids being remarkably normal.
‘Lord Henry Foxbrooke and Lady Estelle Foxbrooke.’
Yes, it was all coming back to him now. Henry and Estelle were twins and the oldest of the Foxbrooke siblings.
‘Mr Connor Foxbrooke, Mr Leo Foxbrooke, Ms Willow Foxbrooke, and Miss Summer Foxbrooke.’
Jesus. How many kids did they have?
‘I don’t know if you remember me,’ Henry said as he shook Rory’s hand. He looked awkward as if acknowledging that Rory probably didn’t know half of the people at his own wedding.
