Page 33 of Always the Bridesmaid

‘And they didn’t listen at all?’

Izzy turns to look me in the eye and shrugs. ‘Brooks said, quite rightly, that I hated him before we almost had sex in the showers at his gym.’

‘Whoa! Too much information.’

Upstairs, Izzy leads me to her bedroom. I ought not to have been but I am taken aback to see Becky and Jess, still wearing their nightwear and sitting cross-legged on the bed.

‘Oh, come on!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms up.

In unison, all three of the other women sing at me to tell them more, tell them more—

‘He’s no Danny Zuko and I am definitely no Sandy Olsson.’

Jess gasps in jest, holding her hands in front of her wide-open mouth theatrically. ‘You didn’t put out on your first night away together, did you?’

I shake my head and try not to smile at the ridiculousness of the scene in front of me. ‘I most certainly did not.’

Becky pats the bed next to her and raises aloft a plate of French bread with little ramekins of butter and jam. There’s an offer I won’t refuse.

I think of Charlie and the grilling he must be getting downstairs – certainly without the offer of breakfast for his troubles – while I tuck into decadent bread and receive a mug of fresh cafetiere coffee from Jess.

‘So what did happen?’ Izzy asks, now relaxing into a large rocking chair by the open window of the room’s Juliette balcony. Like the guys, she is wearing workout gear and a ring of sweat has turned her pale-blue vest a darker shade around the neck. ‘It’s like a scene from Fight Club downstairs,’ she says. ‘The protective Dobermans are in full hangry mode.’

‘Never cross those men when they’re hungry.’ Becky laughs.

Though I could allow myself to be irritated by the insinuation that I might jump into bed with another man, and another man I have just met for that matter, I find myself more entertained by the situation. It’s like we are four teenagers discussing our first kiss.

‘All right, all right, but I hate to tell you, there’s no gossip to share.’

‘Just take a step back, would you?’ Jess holds up her palm. ‘Why were you and Charlie in London anyway? You just fancied going to his gig, Jake said? But an entire day! I mean, he’s funny but I’m not sure I would have taken the whole day for it.’

And, thanks to my final stop in Camden before taking my desserts back to Charlie at the club, I now don’t have to lie to my friend. Or not lie in a very big way, at least.

Hindsight is bliss!

From the back pocket of my jean shorts – the same ones I have now been wearing for more than twenty-four hours – I remove a small, blue, velvet bag and hand it to Jess.

‘I don’t want to step on any toes or ruin any plans you might have, but these are for you.’ As Jess opens the top of the small pouch and takes out the jewelry inside, I add, ‘They’re vintage and the stones are aquamarine. And they are new to you. So…’

Jess holds up the white-gold earrings and admires the feather shape with aquamarine teardrop stones on the end of each feather.

‘My something new, something old and something blue,’ Jess says.

‘I hope you like them. If you already have other earrings planned then please don’t feel like you have to wear them. They just reminded me so much of you, I would like you to have them to wear any time.’

Jess lunges forward and wraps her arms around my neck. ‘I love them, Sarah, thank you so much. And I don’t have plans to wear anything else. In fact, I was going to ask for your help to find something today, when we have a final dress fitting, but these are perfect.’

I relay the story of the broken-down car, skim over how pleasant my lunch with Charlie had been, so as to not have the girls reading anything further into it, and tell them how I went shopping in Camden, where I bought the earrings.

I tell them about all the desserts I tried at the market but leave out that I took them back to the comedy club to share with Charlie. I reflect on the poor girl who took to the stage as the first act of the night and how her jokes just didn’t strike the chord of hilarity she was hoping for.

I tell them Charlie’s performance was hilarious and then how I had felt so bad for him having such a long drive back here after the show that I had suggested we stay over at his place.

I describe in detail, so as to make a point, how empty and like a bachelor pad his flat is and how Charlie was kind enough to sleep on the futon. I make a joke of us having to change the sheets on his bed in the early hours of the morning, really driving home the point that Charlie I did not spend the night together, in any way, shape or form.

‘So poor Charlie really is downstairs taking a verbal beating for no reason then?’ Becky asks.

I nod solemnly, though not feeling truly terrible. ‘I did tell him we needed to be back before the guys woke up.’

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