Chapter 10
10
Tom had been to his fair share of weddings in his life, and one thing that always struck him was how time seemed to drag on and on between the end of the ceremony and the official start of the reception. There was always endless waiting around while the photographs were taken, and no matter how well lubricated the wedding guests were kept, Tom usually always found himself glancing at his watch and wondering when the next bit of the day would get underway.
All that milling around and chatting to random people was fine as far as it went, but by the time the photographs were completed and the bride and groom were ready to take their seats at the top table for the reception, Tom was usually fed up of small talk with strangers and pretty hungry to boot. Wedding day schedules usually meant no one ate anything between breakfast and the wedding meal being served, other than a few canapes or nibbles, and he was always relieved when they could all sit down and get some food into their stomachs.
But today, Tom didn’t think once about being fed up with small talk with strangers or about whether he was hungry.
He was having too much fun with Carole to spare a moments’ thought for those things.
He was enjoying her company and enjoying getting to know her better. She was fun and funny, with an ease and grace that made him feel comfortable at her side, almost as if he’d known her for far longer than he had.
As they chatted at the bar of the function suite, it was like catching up with an old friend… and yet, at the same time, there was also the thrill of discovering more about her—who she was, what made her tick, what made her laugh.
Tom took to his job as wedding wingman with determination, especially once he got the measure of Steven Weaver.
Before Carole’s long-ago ex-boyfriend had even opened his mouth to speak, Tom had understood he was a slimy jerk. He just had that look about him. Keeping the guy away from Carole, at her request, would be his pleasure.
He could only wonder what she’d ever seen in him in the first place.
Their doomed relationship might have been fifteen years ago, but in Tom’s experience people didn’t really change much and he doubted Steven Weaver was much different now to how he’d been back when Carole was in a relationship with him.
He had cheated on her, after all, which meant he’d been a big jerk back then and was almost certainly still a big jerk right now.
As Tom and Carole chatted at the bar and mingled with other guests and relatives who she introduced him to, he kept an eye on Steven’s location, in case he decided to return for a second shot at talking to Carole. If he saw the guy heading their way, he wanted to give her a heads-up so she could take evasive action, if that’s what she wanted.
He hoped it’s what she would want. Slimy Steven didn’t deserve another second of her time.
Soon, the master of ceremonies called the noisy bar to attention and asked the guests to make their way through to the dining area. There followed a slow-motion chaotic shuffle across the room as the guests funnelled through the double doorway and consulted the seating chart at the entrance to the dining room before wandering off to locate their assigned tables.
Once they were seated in the bright and airy dining room, Carole introduced Tom to the other guests she knew at their table. The table of eight included a couple Carole didn’t know, and more introductions were exchanged.
Waiting staff arrived to serve glasses of prosecco and sparkling cordial. Once everyone had found their seats, the master of ceremonies announced the bride and groom and led them to the top table while everyone applauded. The photographer dashed around, snapping countless candid shots, and then it was time for the wedding toasts which the bridal couple had scheduled to take place before the meal was served.
There followed half an hour of speeches from the bride and groom, the best man and chief bridesmaid, rounded off by brief but touching remarks from the parents of the happy couple. The guests raised their glasses after each speech, and all joined together in a good-natured cheer when the final speech and toast was over.
Within moments, the serving staff reappeared with trays bearing the first course. Tom’s stomach rumbled at the sight of the choices—broccoli and stilton soup or chicken liver pate with toasted brioche—and Carole laughed when he joked that as he was famished, he’d quite like to have both options.
The dining room filled with chatter as everyone dived into their meal. Music played in the background from the house system, adding to the celebratory atmosphere. Conversation flowed easily at their table thanks to the gregarious guests in whose company they found themselves, and soon both the starters and main courses were devoured, and it was on to the dessert and coffee.
“I can’t believe it’s almost six o’clock already,” Tom said when he checked the time. “The afternoon flew by.”
“It’s been a lot of fun so far,” Carole said, digging into her chocolate mousse. “We were lucky to find ourselves at this table with lots of nice people to chat to. I hope you enjoyed your dinner.”
“It was great. Your cousin and her new husband did the right thing when they chose this place for their wedding reception.”
“And we’ve got the party to come later. Are you any good at dancing, Tom?”
“It depends on what you mean by dancing.”
She laughed at his joke and the goofy air quotes he made for ‘dancing’, which pleased him.
“What I mean is reasonably coordinated body activity that happens roughly in time to the music, and in the company of someone else who’s doing more or less the same thing as I am,” she said.
“Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I think I can probably manage a few moves that won’t involve accidentally stomping all over your feet.”
“I hope not, because my poor feet have already been churned into mush thanks to these stupid high heels.” Carole winced and peeked beneath the table.
Tom followed her gaze and when she poked her foot out from under the tablecloth, he was amused to see she wasn’t wearing the shoes at all, which she’d kicked off at some point during the meal.
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. I might need physiotherapy, and I only had the awful things on for a few hours.” Carole grinned and rolled her eyes. “The things we women do to look good. It’s insane. Anyway, before we hit the dancefloor, I’ll change into my kitten heels. Thank God I brought them, or I’d be confined to recovering in a chair for the rest of the night.”
“That’d be a shame.”
“It really would. I think I might already have a couple of blisters forming thanks to those ridiculous high heels, so if I end up lurching and limping around on the dancefloor later, you’ll know the reason why.”
“I would’ve simply assumed you were attempting to match my own dreadful dance moves.”
Carole laughed again, and Tom realised how much he liked the sound of it.
How much he liked, too, the bright spark that lit up her eyes when she found something amusing.
As he ate his dessert of strawberry cheesecake, the conversation opened up again at their table and continued throughout the coffee and after dinner chocolates. Once everyone was revived with caffeine following the big meal, the master of ceremonies announced that the dining room would be reorganised to accommodate the evening party and dancing and invited the guests to return to the bar while the staff got to work clearing the space.
Everyone joined the exodus into the bar. While Carole hurried to the cloakroom to swap her shoes, Tom got chatting with her parents, and her sister and brother-in-law.
They were a friendly bunch, and Carole’s little nieces, Nancy and Lily, kept them all entertained with a blow-by-blow account of their role in the wedding ceremony and how much they’d enjoyed wearing their pretty dresses and carrying their flower bouquets.
They were sweet kids, brimming with energy and seemingly capable of talking non-stop. By the time a couple of the other flower girls appeared and hauled them off to practice a dance move they said they’d been working on for the reception, Tom’s ears were ringing from their barrage of chatter.
“Those girls,” their grandfather said with a head shake and an apologetic look for Tom. “I swear, they wear us all out.”
“It looks like they’re having a great day,” Tom said. “And I get the feeling they’ll outlast us all on the dance floor later.”
“Oh, they will,” Jane agreed. “And they’ll still be going strong once we get home tonight. They’re completely inexhaustible.”
“Tom don’t be surprised if they insist you dance with them later,” Nina said. “They won’t take no for an answer, I’m afraid, but if they get too boisterous, just let us know and one of us will rescue you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Tom grinned.
“Famous last words,” said Frederick. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
Carole reappeared just then, looking more comfortable now she’d changed her footwear.
“Does that feel better?” Tom asked, nodding at her feet.
“Much better. I feel like a new woman.”
“Here, have some medicinal prosecco,” Tom said, passing her a fresh glass.
She accepted the drink with a laugh. “I’ll keel over if I keep drinking at this rate, and it won’t have anything to do with treacherous footwear or debilitating blisters.”
“You’ll sweat off the alcohol once you’re on the dancefloor,” Jane chipped in.
“Thanks for that visual,” Carole said. “Poor Tom will wonder what he’s let himself in for.”
Soon after, the busy master of ceremonies reappeared and invited everyone to return to the dining room which was now ready for the evening entertainment to begin. The space had been transformed during their brief absence, with all the tables and chairs moved to the sides of the room to open the dance floor. Twinkle lights danced around the room and a band was waiting on the low stage at the front.
Once the guests claimed their seats and set their drinks on the tables, the bride and groom were announced one more time as they took to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Applause and cheers broke out amongst the guests and the band began playing as the groom took the bride into his arms.
“They look so gorgeous together,” Carole said as they watched the couple dancing. “I hope the photographer is still here to capture this.”
Tom pointed across the room to where the photographer was perched on top of a chair to snap an overhead shot of the happy couple dancing together while surrounded by their wedding guests.
“Oh, that will make a fantastic photo,” Carole said, her eyes damp as she watched the scene on the dance floor.
“Hey, save your tears,” Tom said on a soft laugh. “You’ll need them for when it’s our turn to dance and you realise just how awful I am.”
She let out a rumble of laughter. The first dance ended, and the band launched into an upbeat number that brought everyone to the floor alongside the bride and groom.
“Come on then, Tom,” Carole said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“You’ll be sorry.”
Tom let himself be dragged onto the dance floor. Amid the crush of the other dancing guests, they found a space together and fell into the rhythm of the music.
“You’re a pretty good dancer!” Carole shouted to be heard above the band and the guests around them. “The way you’ve been talking, I was expecting far worse!”
“It’s called expectation management.”
She laughed and held out her hand. “Come on then, give me a twirl.”
Tom grinned and took her hand to spin her around. When her twirling was done, he added a twirl of his own, making her laugh again, and then threw in a funny jive move at the end.
“You’re got hidden talents, mister.”
“Or maybe the prosecco you drank makes me look better than I really am.”
“Either way, I think you should twirl me again. I’m having fun!”
Tom twirled her, repeated his daft jive move, and made it to the end of the song without tripping either of them up. He counted that as a bonus.
The wedding band knew their business, and barely paused between songs, keeping everyone energised and moving on the dance floor. Tom and Carole stayed up for the next two songs before her father asked his daughter for a dance and Tom found himself with Carole’s mother for the next tune.
Jane and her husband joined them after that, along with their daughters, for what Tom discovered was a family tradition ‘group dance’ that had them all executing some seriously naff dance moves while Frederick performed a cheesy skit that had to be seen to be believed.
Everyone needed a drink after that and a minute to recover.
“Sorry you had to see that,” Carole joked as they bought cold drinks at the bar. “My father shouldn’t be allowed out in public.”
“I’ll get over it, with time and therapy.”
Carole chuckled, and they took a moment to lean against the bar and catch their breaths. Standing in companionable silence as they sipped their deliciously cold drinks, they glanced around at the other guests who had also retreated to the bar area for a moment of respite from the non-stop dancing.
“I’m having fun, Tom,” Carole said. “Thanks for coming with me today.”
“I’m having fun, too. Being your wedding wingman has its perks. Speaking of which…” He glanced around the bar. “I haven’t seen Slimy Steven since before the meal. Do you think he’s still here?”
“I’m not sure. Actually, I’d sort of forgotten all about him until now.”
Tom couldn’t help the punch of satisfaction he felt at this admission. “In that case, I’m definitely doing my job right.”
“No argument there.” Carole nodded towards the doors that led to the dancing in the other room. “Shall we get back through there for another dance?”
Before he could answer, Carole’s two little nieces came barrelling towards them, their faces red from all the excitement and running around. Their previously immaculately styled hair was now a mass of frizzled curls pointing every which way and the younger of the two girls had chocolate smeared across her flower girl dress.
Tom blinked in amusement at the sight of the pair as they closed in on where he and Carole stood at the bar.
“Tom! Come and dance with us!” Nancy yelled, grabbing his hand.
“Yes, Tom, come and dance with us, right this minute!” Lily chimed in, taking Tom’s other hand. “Hurry!”
“Er, I was just about to dance with your Auntie Carole.”
But neither girl heard what he said as they hauled him away, and when he glanced over his shoulder, Carole was laughing helplessly, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
“I’ll catch you for the next dance,” she said cheerfully, waving him off. “Have fun!”
Before he could respond, the girls picked up their pace towards the dance floor and Tom braced himself for whatever lay in store with the two little whirlwinds currently latched onto each hand and giggling uncontrollably.
“Do you know how to do the Grotty Grot dance?” Lily asked.
“The Grotty Grot dance? Never heard of it.”
“That’s because you’re old. Come on, we’ll teach you.”
And thus Tom’s education in the rhythmic intricacies of the mystifying Grotty Grot dance began. Judging by the hilarious reactions of Carole’s nieces, this was a dance they were very much making up as they went along for their own twisted amusement.
But Tom didn’t care, so long as it kept them happy.
And when he spied Carole lingering on the side of the dance floor and watching the spectacle unfold with an expression of pure glee on her face, he threw himself into the dreadful dance with full abandon.