Page 47 of Always the Bridesmaid

I look toward Top Table now, turning my back to the rest of the room.

‘Jess? Where is he?’

Jess looks genuinely perplexed. Jake told me I had to buy him some time to get changed and Jess must be wondering where her groom has gone, probably thinking I am an idiot for not having realized that the man I am introducing is not sitting at the table where he ought to be.

Suddenly, the backing music to Elvis’s ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ begins to play through the room’s large speakers. From the door at the back of the room, Jake appears wearing Joe Elvis’s leather suit, playing a six-string acoustic guitar and sporting his signature coy smile.

‘Well, I have no idea where Jake is but it looks like The King has arrived,’ I say. ‘Take it away, Elvis!’

And as I finish speaking, Jake begins to sing.

Move aside, Tom Fletcher and all your McFly-ness, you have been usurped on the list of the best ever wedding speeches.

Whilst Jake transfixes the room, I turn to watch Jess, whose eyes are the picture of love. She has sparkled like a diamond all day but right now, watching her soulmate live out her fantasy in a room full of people who are here to celebrate their relationship, she is a beacon of happiness.

But, for some reason, I feel compelled to look across the table at Sarah. She and I (mostly her) helped make this magical moment happen but I know that isn’t the reason I choose to look at her now. When our eyes meet, it is as if someone is reaching inside me and squeezing my guts in their hands. I feel knotted and twisted and completely discombobulated by the woman in my sights.

I’m still watching her when I set down my microphone and, whilst her jaw hangs loose with shock, I strip out of my morning suit.

I am not alone in my stripping. Drew, Brooks, Cash and Will have all stood from their seats and started taking off their layers too.

Everyone whoops and cheers as Jake welcomes to the dance floor not one, not two but five Elvises in the white Las Vegas jumpsuits, complete with Elvis wigs.

Caught in the moment and relieved to be free of my layers, I take my MC microphone and strut toward Jake. As all us men form a group on the dance floor, we face Jess, Jake proud and center, and begin a rendition of ‘Jailhouse Rock’.

Despite Izzy’s efforts, thanks to the very short space of time we had to secretly pull together some moves for the occasion, we are calamitous. Bumping into each other, laughing where we should be singing, but ultimately fitting in plenty of hip swinging and pelvis thrusting, we sing through a medley of ‘Jailhouse Rock’, ‘Hound Dog’ and, of course, ‘Suspicious Minds’.

The room is one well-intentioned mass of guffawing, us guys laughing along with the guests. No one chortles harder than the bride. Goal achieved.

At the end of the medley, though not the usual order of things, Jake invites his bride to the dance floor for their first dance.

We groomsmen stand together and sing ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ (a tad pitchy), until we are rescued by a DJ, who plays the real Elvis’s version of the song. At which point, Drew goes to Becky, Brooks heads over to Izzy, Cash and Will come together, and all begin to dance in couples alongside the bride and groom.

On our table, Sarah is sitting alone.

Not on my watch.

I offer her a hand. ‘Come on, Matron. You can continue ignoring me in three minutes’ time.’

She smiles. She actually smiles at me, and God, my insides are knitting and knotting once again.

She places her hand into mine and from her touch alone, I feel like I grow to seven feet tall.

As I lead her onto the dance floor, I try to control my pounding heart.

How ridiculous I would feel if she could sense my delight at her slightest touch.

19

SARAH

Endorphins from laughter. Dopamine from hearing music I love. Nostalgia reminiscing about good times had.

This is what I am feeling. Happy chemicals in my brain. And this is why, as I willingly stepped into Charlie’s arms on the dance floor, I feel like I’m on cloud nine.

It has nothing to do with Charlie’s touch. His gentleness. The way my body seems to fit so perfectly against his.

I daren’t admit to myself the last time I felt a wave of need come over me like this. It isn’t a sexual need, I don’t think. It is a desire to be held. To be in someone’s arms.

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