Page 13 of Always the Bridesmaid

Lucky for Charlie, I am not a person of such tendencies, but what I do do is take out my hairdryer, locate the plug socket nearest the bathtub, and turn the noise-maker on full power.

‘Sorry, I hope you can still hear your tunes,’ I say pathetically sweetly through the most disingenuous smile I can muster.

I miss his next – doubtless choice – words. As I tip my head upside down to dry my stubborn, thick hair, I shout, ‘P.S. When a grown man uses the word “boobies”, it’s all kinds of ick.’

He leans over the edge of the bathtub, closer to me. ‘Yeah, well, P.S. stands for postscript. When people use it in speech, it sounds all kinds of idiotic.’

I close my eyes and grin, delighting in the fact that I have rattled him, at last, and that his mock take on an American accent is utter trash.

With the room to myself, finally, I slip into a pink and purple snake-print maxi dress. I always feel nice in this dress. The A-line cut accentuates my height, which is the one thing about myself I have grown to appreciate in my thirties. Like most women, there isn’t a lot about my appearance I can say I love, or even like a lot, so to find clothes that make me feel good is a treat. And this dress has been worn rarely, on holidays only.

After speaking with the catering team, I have left them to do their thing in the large kitchen and as I make my way out to the rear decking, I’m ruminating on when I last wore this dress.

Stepping outside, I see the backs of all the men in the house, watching the sun begin its descent behind the distant hillside, all wearing various iterations of a Bermuda shorts and shirt combo. And it comes to me, watching the guys lean across the glass panes of the fencing around the deck: the last time I wore this dress I was on a Caribbean cruise with Danny. It had turned out to be our last holiday before he died.

I look at the sun now, spots dazzling my vision despite my shades, and I remember how Danny had stood behind me on our cabin balcony, his arms around my waist, his chin on my shoulder. We stood like that as we watched the setting sun, St Kitts in the foreground.

‘Here she is, guys,’ Jake says, stealing my attention. ‘Hide your members.’

I scowl. ‘It’s not funny, Jake.’

‘Ah come on, Sarah.’ He laughs as he makes his way over to me and hangs an arm around my shoulder. ‘It’s no more than Brooks would have done to Izzy or I would have done to Jess.’

I pinch Jake’s chin between my index finger and thumb, ignoring Charlie in my peripheral vision, his back now to the sun as he watches the interchange play out.

‘You are marrying Jess. I have zero interest in seeing Charlie’s member.’

‘That’s not the story we heard,’ Brooks says, his shoulders chugging on a laugh.

‘Ignore them, Sarah, they’re so grim,’ Cady says.

Cady has spent the day with Drew’s family – his parents, sister, brother-in-law and their young kids. She has got into photography whilst studying at college and now loves a scenic daytrip – far from the girl who Brooks was having to rescue from house parties, completely inebriated, at eighteen.

Cady is staying in the house with us – and has a room to herself – but sadly it’s the smallest room, with one single bed, otherwise I’d be jumping in with her instead of Charlie. The rest of Drew’s family are staying in a nearby guest house and partaking in some of the plans I have made for the group throughout the week. Millie and Eddie decided their kids are too young to enjoy our plans in the house, telling me, ‘The little pickles are feral; they’ll get under everyone’s feet and on everyone’s nerves.’ So I arranged the guest house for them, and Drew’s parents said they would prefer to stay there to help Millie.

‘You’re back,’ I say to Cady. ‘How was your day?’

‘Beautiful.’

‘It really was,’ Drew’s mum adds, who’s sitting with his dad at a poolside table, and, I notice, is drinking a martini. Classy. ‘Thank you for organizing the day for us.’

For some reason, before I say, ‘You’re all so welcome,’ I glance at Charlie, who shakes his head, bottle of beer to his lips.

Okay, I planned something else for someone else, I get it. But they do appreciate it, as I said they would. So, it’s my win, not his.

‘Would you ever consider life photography, Cady? Charlie over there is quite the exhibitionist!’ I say, tongue-in-cheek.

The men laugh.

‘Would you photograph me like one of your French boys, Cady?’ Charlie jokes, getting a bigger laugh. Damn.

‘I have zero idea what’s going on here, but you’re all being weird,’ Cady says. ‘I will absolutely not photograph you, French-style or otherwise, and I’m going to sit myself back over there with the grown-ups.’

‘Not to side with the men…’ Izzy’s voice comes from behind me as she steps outside onto the deck, ‘but they’re right. Brooks would pull that prank on me.’ She leans into my ear and whispers, ‘Have you considered that Charlie maybe has a thing for you?’

I almost choke on air. ‘Unlikely! He hates me.’

‘Like people who hate each other don’t learn to love each other,’ she adds, raising her eyebrows.

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