Chapter 12
‘You look tired,’ JJ tells me. ‘Is my spare bed not comfortable?’
‘The bed is comfortable,’ I reply. ‘It’s the screaming orgasms through the wall that are uncomfortable.’
I accidentally make eye contact with our taxi driver in his rear-view mirror. I try to apologise with my eyes.
‘Now, now, Whit, I know you’re not a prude,’ JJ ticks me off.
‘It’s not the fact it’s an orgasm that’s keeping me up, it’s the sheer volume of them,’ I point out. ‘Doesn’t your throat hurt?’
She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows.
‘Do not answer that,’ I practically beg.
‘I’ll try to keep the noise down,’ she says, being serious for a moment.
‘Don’t be daft, it’s your home,’ I tell her. ‘If you can’t have a screaming orgasm in your own home, where can you, eh?’
She opens her mouth to speak.
‘Again – do not answer that,’ I say with a laugh. ‘I really appreciate you letting me stay. With Cordelia staying in Andy’s room with him, I hate being home.’
‘I get that,’ JJ assures me. ‘Stay as long as you like. Have they said where they’re planning to live yet?’
I shake my head.
‘Nope – although to be honest with you, I’ve hardly spoken to them. Andy thinks we’re hard at work on my book, pulling all-nighters, getting it ready for a publisher to read.’
‘I suppose they’re too wrapped up in themselves,’ she replies. ‘The audacity of them, to have an engagement party, when they only got engaged a week ago, or whatever, and they’re getting married in a week or so… Talk about milking it.’
Yep, silly me, thinking ‘next month’ meant I had a month to mentally prepare, when really, given that it was the end of April when they told me, their May wedding is imminent.
‘I never thought Andy would be the kind of guy to marry someone called Cordelia at a country estate,’ JJ muses out the window. ‘Not that it isn’t lovely out here. If you’re into that sort of thing. I could imagine myself as a sort of lady of the manor…’
‘Sort of lady,’ I repeat back to her.
‘Well, not like that, but I probably would be whipping the stable boys with a rider’s crop in my spare time,’ she jokes.
Andy and Cordelia are getting married (and having their engagement party) at Rosewood Grange.
As far as I can tell it’s a large estate with rooms to stay in, function rooms for events, large gardens and stables – I think I read something about them breeding or keeping horses for, I don’t know, fancy horse shit.
Finally here, we pass through tall iron gates and onto a long, tree-lined drive. The estate unfolds in front of us, all sandy-coloured stone and climbing ivy everywhere. There’s a grand house – that must be the hotel and wedding venue – with huge sash windows.
There are cars everywhere, nor just for the engagement party, but because the place is open to the public, so there are tourists and locals everywhere.
This place is a dream, as far as wedding venues go. It’s not what I’d have picked for myself, but if it came with Andy, I’d take it in a heartbeat.
We pull up in a gravelled area near a cluster of other cars. I climb out, stretching my legs, trying to shake off the pins and needles. If only I could get rid of the butterflies in my stomach so easily.
‘Wow. This place screams old money and generational trauma,’ JJ jokes.
‘Yeah, I’m not sure if it’s giving period drama or murder mystery,’ I reply.
‘We’ll see how the party plays out,’ she says with a laugh.
‘Welcome to Rosewood Grange,’ a man greets us with a smile. ‘Are you here for the engagement party?’
‘We are,’ I reply.
‘Please, follow me, I’ll show you to the private room where the drinks reception is being held,’ he tells us.
‘Drinks reception – finally someone speaking our language,’ JJ says, hooking her arm with mine.
We’re directed through a pair of French doors into the orangery, which is apparently where the engagement drinks are happening. It’s a light-filled room with glass walls on three sides, looking out over gardens.
A string quartet is tucked into a corner, playing a slowed-down, instrumental version of Disney songs – because of course.
Waiters drift by with trays of champagne and tiny, delicate things on skewers that look like food but like you would need to take down twenty of them to feel like you’d eaten.
It’s exactly the sort of place you get engaged, married or murdered, like JJ suggested. I guess the night is young.
And then I see him. Andy, in a green tweed suit, white shirt open at the collar, hair slightly messy like he’s been running his hand through it. He looks unfairly good. I’ve never seen him in a tweed suit before, but it’s really working for him.
Then there’s Cordelia, in her white dress (yep, a white dress, to her engagement party), hanging off his arm, throwing her head back as she laughs wildly at something. I swear, nothing is that funny.
They’re talking to a small group of people, I was going to usher JJ off towards the bar, but Andy has spotted us.
‘Whit!’ Andy calls out, lighting up when he spots me.
He breaks away from the group and comes towards us, arms open. I brace myself for impact.
‘You made it,’ he says, hugging me tightly. ‘I was beginning to think you’d got lost. What, did you let JJ drive?’
‘You know I plan on getting too drunk for that,’ JJ replies, laughing at his joke, taking her hug next.
‘Of course I made it,’ I say, smiling as brightly as I can.
‘Right, JJ, I need to introduce you to Tink,’ Andy says, leading the way.
I glance at JJ who, behind Andy’s back, pretends to stick two fingers down her throat.
‘Whitney!’ Cordelia says, taking both of my hands in both of hers. ‘I’m so happy you’re here.’
‘Hi,’ I say, hoping she can’t feel my palms sweating. ‘Congratulations. It’s so beautiful here.’
‘Thank you,’ she says, practically glowing. ‘We wanted something simple but elegant.’
JJ’s mouth twitches. I can tell she’s about half a second away from saying something, so I get in there first.
‘This is JJ,’ I tell her. ‘JJ, this is Cordelia.’
‘Lovely to finally put a face to the names,’ JJ replies.
‘Names?’ Cordelia replies, shaking JJ’s hand.
‘Well, Whit called you Cordelia, but Andy called you Tink,’ JJ says. ‘Which one is your name? Your actual name.’
‘Oh, please call me Cordelia,’ she replies. ‘Only Andy gets to call me Tink. And only I get to call him Buzz.’
‘That won’t be a problem at all,’ JJ says with a smile. ‘Congratulations – this is quite a surprise for us all.’
‘Just… when you know, you know, right?’ Cordelia replies, taking Andy’s hand in hers, swinging it between them.
‘Whitney, darling,’ Andy’s mum says, hugging me before pulling back to look at me. ‘Oh, you look tired, are you eating properly?’
Andy’s mum has always been like a second mum to me. It makes me smile.
‘Yes,’ I insist. ‘Constantly.’
‘Working too hard then,’ she says knowingly, then squeezes my arm. ‘You’ll sort her out,’ she tells JJ.
‘I’m trying,’ JJ says. ‘She resists my influence.’
‘How’re you doing, Whitney?’ Andy’s dad asks me.
‘Doing good,’ I say. ‘Recovering from the shock of this one getting engaged, but fine.’
He chuckles.
‘Join the club. He rang us from the airport. Nearly gave your mother a coronary,’ he jokes. ‘Of course, we all thought he’d marry you.’
Cordelia frowns.
‘Well, that’s because your generation can’t understand that men and women can be just friends,’ Andy reminds his dad with an awkward laugh. ‘Right, Whit?’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ I say. ‘I friend-zoned this one quicker than… than…’
‘Quicker than these two got engaged,’ JJ dares to joke.
It gets a few laughs.
‘I’m so happy for you,’ Andy’s mum tells him. ‘And she’s gorgeous, isn’t she? Cordelia, dear, come here.’
Cordelia steps closer, smiling sweetly as Andy’s mum hugs her like she’s already part of the family.
‘We can’t wait to learn more about you,’ she says. ‘But welcome to the family.’
I glance around the room, finding this hard to watch for obvious reasons, and I notice something.
I recognise most people here and they’re all Andy’s people.
Friends, old uni mates, family, colleagues – although I suppose they are Cordelia’s colleagues now too, but she can’t know them that well.
Ditto Andy. I wonder if she has family here, friends, anyone for just her… That’s kind of odd, right?
A colleague I vaguely recognise comes over to clap Andy on the back.
‘You dog,’ he says. ‘Engaged to the new girl. I didn’t think you had it in you.’
‘Rude,’ Andy says, but he’s grinning.
‘You’ve tamed him,’ the colleague tells Cordelia.
She laughs.
‘He really wasn’t that wild,’ she insists.
Everyone laughs. It’s all very easy. Very warm. On the surface, at least.
‘Do you want another drink?’ JJ asks me, nodding towards the empty champagne glass in my hand. We’ve been grabbing them from passing servers as we’ve been chatting. ‘Maybe something stronger?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Something stronger. Like bleach.’
Only JJ can hear me at the moment. Everyone else is too wrapped up in their conversations.
‘One double coming up,’ she says before dashing off to the bar, as far as her sky-high heels will let her.
I hover for a second, watching Andy move through the room. He does that thing he always does at gatherings – splits his time, makes sure everyone gets a bit of him. It’s one of the reasons people love him.
Cordelia works the room with him, meeting everyone – clearly dazzling them all with her pocket-sized charm.
‘Here we go,’ JJ says, thrusting a cocktail into my hand.
‘Notice anything odd?’ I ask her.
‘You can smell horse shit if you go too near the open doors?’ she replies.
‘I was thinking more along the lines of the guest list,’ I reply.
‘Well, it seems like mostly Andy’s people,’ JJ points out. ‘Does she not have family here?’
‘Not that I’ve noticed,’ I say.
‘Hmm – perhaps it’s too short notice for them?’ she suggests.
‘It’s too short notice for everyone,’ I reply. ‘And yet here we all are.’
‘Odd, isn’t it?’ she says.
‘I just… can’t get over how one-sided this all feels,’ I reply.