to the top table?’ he asks.
‘It doesn’t even get me a “thank you”,’ I reply.
‘Hmm, I was hoping we’d be sitting together. Well, I asked for a catch up first,’ he calls after me as I head in the direction of the marquee. ‘Don’t go letting Alan jump the queue just because he looks like he could strangle someone without breaking a sweat.’
He does indeed look like he could kill someone with his thumb, but the Alan I knew was always way too boring to be confrontational enough to get into a fight.
I glance at the seating chart to see roughly where my table is, before looking in that direction and seeing that my friends have already taken their seats.
Our table is right at the back of the marquee, where it meets the building, next to the kitchen door. Not only do we have the heat coming from in there, as well as countless serving staff constantly whizzing past us, but we’re being deprived of the same breeze the rest of the guests are enjoying. On a sweltering day like today, a breeze is absolutely needed. I feel like my make-up is melting and slowly slipping down my face – and not even evenly, so I probably look like some bizarre, abstract Picasso portrait at this point.
‘I can’t believe they’ve given us the crappiest table here,’ Clarky whines. ‘We’re his oldest friends.’
‘We’re pretty far down the pecking order today,’ Zach says, knocking back the glass of Prosecco on the table in front of him that I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to save for the speeches.
‘This day is just getting worse and worse,’ Clarky says, knocking back his glass too.
‘I think the drinks are for the speeches,’ I point out.
‘It’s OK, this one was Bella’s,’ Clarky replies.
We all fall awkwardly silent at the first mention of Clarky’s ex-girlfriend. Up until now, we’ve all been quietly ignoring the fact she isn’t here, but as two other guests take a seat at our big, round table, the fact that Bella’s chair remains empty couldn’t be more obvious.
‘Ah, buddy, things aren’t so bad,’ Ed says, patting him on the back.
‘They bloody are,’ Clarky insists. ‘I was going to try and shag a bridesmaid, but they’re all fat.’
‘They’re all pregnant,’ Fiona corrects him angrily.
I loudly clear my throat.
Clarky looks over and me, looking me up and down before saying, ‘Well, you’re not a real bridesmaid, are you? And anyway, I wouldn’t shag you, it’d be like shagging my weird sister.’
‘I don’t know how I’m ever going to heal from this broken heart,’ I say sarcastically, pretending to wipe away a tear from my eye.
‘You know, when I checked in, the receptionist asked where my guest was, and when I told her she wasn’t coming, she got really pissed off with me and told me I should’ve called ahead,’ he says, angrily.
‘You should’ve told her she’d died,’ Zach laughs. ‘Made her feel bad.’
‘I should’ve told her I’d killed her, more like, then she wouldn’t have been rude to me.’
Nothing like the threat of murder to keep a woman in check.
All at once, we’re all very aware of the couple sitting on our table, attentively but timidly observing our conversation.
‘Hello,’ I say politely.
‘Hi,’ the girl says back.
‘Bride or groom?’ I ask.
‘Bride,’ she says.
‘We went to uni with the groom,’ Ed tells them. ‘In fact, we all lived together for a year.’
‘Oh really?’ the girl replies. ‘Toby is Kat’s dentist.’
The girl places her engagement-ring-clad hand on her fiancé’s arm as she explains their connection.
‘What the fuck?’ Clarky whines. ‘We’re his oldest friends and we’re sat at the crap table with Kat’s dentist and his bird? No offence.’
From the looks on their faces, I’d guess they’ve taken offence.
‘Are you not drinking?’ Fiona asks me, nodding towards my orange juice.
‘No, I’m trying to keep a clear, sober head,’ I say.
‘Same,’ she replies, showing me her lemonade. ‘If I start drinking now, I’ll be hammered by tonight. I think I’m getting old.’
‘I bumped into Pete again,’ I tell her quietly. ‘He seems great. I don’t want to drink too much and start talking rubbish, I want to spend more time with him, so he can get to know the version of me that I have full oral and physical control over.’
My friend gives her eyebrows a playful wiggle at my choice of words.
‘Not like that,’ I quickly insist, although I know she knows what I mean really.
We had a spare few minutes after the ceremony, so I told Fi about what happened with Pete last night. It was nice, talking to her about boys just like told times. I miss having a female friend in my life – someone to confide in, someone to give me advice. Fi and I never fell out after uni, we just drifted apart. We all had good intentions to stay in touch and keep our friendships alive, but when you’re all living all over the country, juggling hectic jobs with relationships, and house moves … you just put off that night out you swore you’d plan so that everyone could catch up. It’s especially hard trying to plan reunions for a group of six, which is probably why we only see each other at weddings.
‘Ooh, Luca has a crush,’ Fi sings quietly.
‘That doesn’t usually end well for me,’ I point out.
‘Yeah, I had a quick chat with Tom. My God, he’s gorgeous. He might actually be better looking, now that he’s older.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ I say with a laugh.
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s ancient history,’ I assure her. ‘Speaking of which, have you seen Alan?’
‘No?’
I glance around the room for my man mountain of an ex. He’s incredibly easy to spot.
‘There he is,’ I point out. ‘He’s some kind of Mr Universe type now.’
‘Oh my God,’ Fiona blurts.
‘What’s up?’ Zach asks.
‘Over there, look, it’s Anal Alan,’ she tells him.
‘Anal Alan?’ Kat’s dentist’s fiancée echoes. Once again, she seems horrified by our conversation. I feel like I should tell her that things are probably only
