to retake them in the autumn, meaning that while my friends were having a good summer, I was bunkering down to revise. I lost the university place I had lined up and the whole thing was just a mess. You see, the problem with falling in love is that you end up off your game and I can’t afford to do that, literally and figuratively. I need to do well at work, I need to get on the property ladder. I have stuff to do that doesn’t involve romance and, anyway, I’m fine on my own. I really am.
Collette raises an eyebrow. ‘I think there’s still a romantic heart in there somewhere.’ She pokes my chest. ‘Deep down, there’s a little romantic heart beating away, just waiting to break out!’
‘No there isn’t!’ I bat her hand away. ‘I know you find this hard to believe, but it is possible to feel complete and happy without a man.’
Collette eyes me, unsure.
‘I know! Groundbreaking! But look at me, I’m living proof. I get by just fine. I don’t need anyone to give me some kind of fairy-tale happy ending. I’m already getting along just great. And take my mum for example! She’s single and she’s got a great life,’ I remind her.
My mum is one of the reasons I feel so confident in my single status. She never really knew my dad. I was conceived during a holiday romance and she brought me up alone. She’s had a few boyfriends, but she never married. She has loads of friends and an incredible career. Since I left home, she’s been travelling the world brokering deals in her role as an international event manager. At the moment, she’s living it up in Dubai.
Collette rolls her eyes. ‘Okay, fine, well you’re both amoebas then. Runs in the family.’ She places her empty mug down.
‘So anyway, have Holly and Isaac confirmed where the wedding will be yet? Can you take a plus one?’ Collette asks.
‘No, they haven’t. And err...’ I try to picture Collette at the wedding, snapping every second and crying with joy when Holly and Prince Isaac say ‘I do’. ‘I don’t really get a plus one! I’m not actually invited like a guest would be, I’m just there for work, aren’t I?’
Collette lets out a little sigh. ‘I wish I had your job.’
‘You didn’t get this excited when I got invited to Washington to cover the White House press conference!’ I point out, reminding her of the trip I took a few months ago which was definitely one of the coolest things I’ve ever got to do for work.
Collette wrinkles her nose. ‘Yeah but that’s just politics,’ she says, like it’s a dirty word. ‘This is the royal wedding!’ Her eyes sparkle once more.
I take a sip of tea. ‘You wouldn’t believe some of the things they’ve lined up for me to cover! Cake tasting with the royal wedding baker! A masterclass on flower arranging with the royal wedding florist!’
‘Wow!’ Collette’s eyes shimmer. ‘Oh my God, this is going to be amazing!’
‘One sec.’ I take my phone out of my handbag and open up my work inbox, scrolling through the press invites. ‘Oh yeah, a three course Michelin star meal at the Horsham Hotel by the royal wedding chef.’
‘Incredible!’ Collette beams.
I scroll down. ‘A bridal fair!’
‘Wow,’ Collette utters dreamily. ‘That sounds amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever been so jealous of anyone in my life. What else?’
I keep scrolling. ‘Oh!’ I land upon an email I received earlier from an enthusiastic PR woman for a company specialising in kitschy royal memorabilia. ‘I’m being sent a load of wedding trinkets tomorrow! Can you believe it? The wedding isn’t for months.’
‘Yeah but everyone wants to be part of this wedding!’ Collette reasons. ‘And you get first dibs on all the cool stuff! Oh my God, do you think you’ll get to see Holly’s wedding dress ahead of the big day?’
I scan my inbox until I find the right email. ‘Oh yes, I’ve been invited to meet the bridalwear designer so maybe!’
‘What!?’ Collette’s eyes widen with awe. ‘This is incredible, Sam!’
She moves closer and takes my hands. ‘You have to tell me everything. Every last detail! Please! I know I wasn’t that interested in the White House, but this is Holly and Isaac! You know how much I love them!’
‘I know!’ I laugh. I’m not generally one for celebrity culture but part of the reason I know about Holly’s rise to fame is because Collette adores her. She grew up in the same part of Leeds as us and, while that doesn’t really mean much to me, it’s part of the reason Collette loves her so much and has followed her career so closely as Holly’s catapulted to stardom. Collette’s always watched the shows Holly’s presented, meaning that she’s often been on our TV, in the background on lazy Saturdays or when we’re making dinner together. Holly’s pretty face has been the backdrop to quite a few of our evenings, with her big blue eyes and sweeping blonde hair. Collette is probably the reason I’m also so familiar with Prince Isaac. When the pair first announced their engagement, Collette bought all the gossip magazines and pored over all the glossy photos of the couple, looking perfect together. Prince Isaac is the kind of man little girls dream about marrying when they grow up: tall, strong and breathtakingly handsome, with kind-looking blue eyes. The adoring, affectionate, smitten way he looked at Holly in the pictures was almost enough to make my cold single heart melt.
Collette fixes me with a serious look. ‘I know you’re not the biggest fans of weddings, but this isn’t just a wedding, this is a super wedding. This is a movie brought to life. A fairy tale before our very eyes. You have to enjoy every moment, Sam. Even if you just do it for me!’
‘Okay, okay!’ I insist, but Collette holds her imploring stare.
‘You’re living every girl’s dream right now. You have to make the most of it. Think of it as a holiday from all the serious stuff you write about. A bit of fun!’
She looks so incredibly earnest. I give her hands a squeeze. Thinking of it as a holiday isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe it will be fun, and maybe I should try lightening up for once.
‘Okay, you’re right,’ I tell her. ‘I promise I’ll make the most of it.’
Collette grins. ‘I can’t wait!’
I glance up from an article I’m reading on my phone about yesterday’s earthquake as I push the swing door open and arrive at work. I still feel a twinge of guilt as I read the serious news coverage, but I’ve got a spring in my step this morning because I’m determined to do Collette proud and make the most of this opportunity, even if it isn’t going to fast-track my career towards winning the Pulitzer Prize for Investigative Reporting any time soon.
‘Morning, Al,’ I say to the receptionist as I slip through the revolving doors. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Not too bad, not too bad,’ Al says, scratching his beard. ‘Haven’t had a day off for eight days now. Always working. Always working. But can’t complain, eh? A job’s a job.’
Al’s one of these people that somehow manages to be completely
