Chapter Nine
My bridesmaid dress hangs in pride of place in the wardrobe, a garment bag covering it for protection. Every now and then, I sneak a peek at it and carefully stroke the soft, slippery fabric. I can’t wait to wear it, it’s the nicest thing I’ve owned in ages.
I’ve got plenty of going-out dresses, but they are more suitable for the club than a dear friend’s wedding. Still, at least I’ll have loads of options for Lucy’s hen party, it’s only weeks away now, and to be honest, I’m more excited about that than the actual big day at the moment!
Things are going surprisingly well - I sought out some cute pieces for the tables, I’ve decided to make personalised mini candles for wedding favours, I selected a dress that all the bridesmaids loved and I’ve planned a bloody good hen party, if I do say so myself.
Maybe my scatterbrain streak is over, maybe all my foolishness was down to the London pollution and all I needed was to breathe in some fresh, country air.
Flipping wistfully past my gown, I pick out a simple white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue skinny jeans. Smoothing down my chosen outfit, I hop down the creaky stairs, absolutely full of beans.
Alex is just leaving for work when I make my way to the kitchen for breakfast. He stops over most nights, though his own house is just minutes down the road.
My lips purse of their own accord as I squeeze past the happy couple toward the kettle.
I wonder if they’ll continue their little sleepovers once they’re married - it’s a bit unconventional to not actually live together, but I’ve decided it’s best if I stay out of it.
Lucy made her feelings on me butting in clear the other day, so I’ll keep on biting my tongue.
It’s none of my business, it’s none of my business …
Still, I can’t stop my gut from squirming as Alex kisses Lucy goodbye in the kitchen doorway and heads off, tool box in hand. I must be doing a crap job of concealing my true feelings, because Lucy’s face falls when she spins around and looks at me.
‘What?’ she demands to know, all haughty and defensive.
Switching on the kettle, I lift my shoulders nonchalantly. ‘Nothing.’
‘No, come on. Out with it.’
‘I didn’t say anything!’
‘You don’t need to, with a face like that.’ Sighing, Lucy slumps down at the kitchen table, chin resting on her palm. ‘I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking it too.’
Careful to tread softly, I lean up against the granite countertop. ‘Want to talk about it?’
Lucy nods, then screws up her face and shakes her head. ‘It’ll do no good. This is something I’ve got to tackle myself. I’ve just got to grow a pair and get on with it.’
Heart aching for my friend, I reach out and give her a pat on the shoulder, wishing I could offer more than just a futile gesture of sympathy.
‘Anyway, enough of all this morose moaning.’ Lucy dusts her hands together, as if the issue can simply be swept away like a speck of dirt. ‘My mum is coming on Sunday to see the reception venue. Alex is working all day, so would you like to come along?’
‘I’d love to!’ I exclaim as I pour tea into twin polka-dotted mugs. ‘It would be great to finally meet your mum.’
‘Well, she’s not the only one who will be there, unfortunately.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘My Auntie Jen has invited herself along too, apparently.’
‘Oh God, is she a bit of a nightmare?’
‘A bit. Oh, perhaps that’s unfair, she’s just a little … difficult.’
I nod in commiserative understanding. Difficult is just code for massive cow. I’ve got a handful of (thankfully, distant) family members myself I could label as ‘difficult’.
‘Well, I’m sure we’ll have a great time anyway.’ I pass one of the mugs to Lucy. ‘I’ve only seen Thistlewick Manor on the website you sent me, I can’t wait to see what it’s like in person.’
‘Oh, just you wait, Leesh, it’s breathtaking.’ Lucy gives a little squeal of glee. ‘I’m so lucky that we were able to secure at short notice. Normally, you have to have booked at least a year in advance for a wedding, we were just fortunate that they had an opening.’
‘It was meant to be.’ I grin at her, though in truth, I don’t believe anything of the sort. Fate, destiny, true love - these just aren’t philosophies I subscribe to. I pop two slices of bread in the toaster, then shake the bag in the direction of my mate. ‘Toast?’
‘Ooh, yes please.’
It’s about time we had a relaxing Saturday, and Lucy and I take it incredibly easy.
We spend the day pottering around in the garden, savouring the lovely weather and drinking fresh, icy lemonade.
Like an old married couple, she mows the lawn while I set myself the task of weeding.
It’s backbreaking work, especially when it comes to pulling out those damned dandelions - gosh, those roots are deep!
Still, I quite enjoy myself, I haven’t had a garden for years - since I lived at Mum’s, in fact.
Swiping a hand across my sweaty forehead, I look around Lucy’s personal little haven pensively.
I’d love to have a small space of my own like this, I didn’t even have a balcony at my flat, and any house plants I tried to nurture tragically died from unknown causes.
When Alex finally returns home about six o’clock, the poor guy is knackered, and so after his dinner and a quick shower, he heads straight to bed, leaving me and Luce curled up on the sofa, watching a movie we must have seen a million times over.
‘I’m so bored ,’ Lucy whines, tossing the TV remote onto the coffee table. ‘I love the village and all, but it doesn’t have much of a nightlife. It’s times like these that I miss London. Remember that grotty little bar we used to go to near your flat? Next door to the kebab shop?’
‘The Ruby Room ? Of course I remember, I was cutting shapes on the dance floor just a few weeks ago!’
I break into a demonstration of said dance moves, leaving Lucy rolling about on the couch.
‘Oh, stop, I’ll wet myself!’ she begs, wiping a tear from her eye. ‘I can’t believe you’re still such a party girl, Leesh, I’m usually in bed by nine o’clock these days. Lily Vale has turned me into an old fogey.’
‘Nah, it’s not the village, it’s the long-term relationship that’s done that.’ I flop down on the sofa next to her. ‘Almost all my clubbing girlies have gone and got themselves partners and after a few months of being together, they settle down and don’t fancy going out anymore.’
Lucy shrugs. ‘I suppose it is nice and cosy staying in with your boyfriend, compared to staggering down the road in five-inch heels in the freezing cold.’
I blow a raspberry. ‘Speak for yourself, Little Miss Bride-to-Be. Anyway, Lily Vale might not be able to compete with London’s nightlife, but I know somewhere we can go.’
Lucy gives me a quizzical sideways glance. ‘Where?’
‘It’s karaoke night at The Pheasant’s Nest!’ I grab her by the wrist and pull her upright. ‘Come on, if we get a wiggle on, we’ll be there in time to see who’s the first one up to the mic.’
On tiptoe, we teeter around the cottage, getting ourselves ready for our impromptu night out without waking Alex.
In my bedroom, we hastily put on our make-up and our gladrags, giggling like school girls and shushing one another.
Finally, we creep downstairs, our heels tapping lightly with each step.
We’re probably way overdressed for a night at the pub - Lucy donning a black silk midi skirt and sequin purple top and me in a little red dress I usually reserve for the clubs, but who cares?
Arm in arm, we stroll down the street, tottering in our heels and sniggering at the shocked looks we get from passersby.
It doesn’t take too long before we get to the pub, and the karaoke session has already begun.
Someone’s dad is warbling a drunken reprise of Mr Brightside by The Killers, and the whole pub is cheering along.
It’s the busiest I’ve seen this place before, at least since the last karaoke night I was here.
Lucy and I head straight to the bar, it’s heaving and I expect we’ll be waiting a while to be served, but thankfully, Barry picks us out of the crowd instantly.
‘Well, well, don’t you ladies look marvellous.’ He treats us to a wide, toothy grin. ‘What’ll be?’
I normally would go for a vodka and lemon or perhaps try out a cocktail, but this time, I go for something a little more in-keeping with the local atmosphere.
‘I’ll have a pint of your Meadow Gold please, Baz.’
With a raised eyebrow, Barry nods in approval. ‘A fine choice, I must say. And for you, Luce?’
‘I’ll just have a rum and Coke, please.’
‘Coming right up.’
Drinks in hand, we cross the pub, in search of two empty seats. It doesn’t look like there’s any free, but Lucy spots a small table right in the corner by the loos, so we commandeer it before anyone can snatch it first.
‘God, my ears!’ Lucy groans through her laughter. ‘Why did you think this would be a good idea again?’
Shrugging, I scan the busy pub, my thoughts drifting elsewhere. ‘Oh, you know.’
As if reading my mind, Finn appears in the crowd, seeming to be looking around for someone himself. Swiftly, I avert my gaze, pretending to be deeply entranced by the damp paper coaster beneath my pint glass. When I dare to look up, my heart skips a beat as I realise he’s coming this way.
‘Hey,’ he nods at us. ‘Alex not coming out tonight, Luce?’
She shakes her head. ‘Nah, he’s fast asleep. Had a busy day.’
‘Ah well. Are you going to have a go?’ He teases, cocking his head toward the howling man with the microphone.
‘That would be a resounding no.’ Lucy wrinkles her nose. ‘I wouldn’t have the heart to subject everyone to my singing voice, you’d find yourself with no customers the moment I opened my mouth!’
‘Fair enough.’ Finn brings his hazel-brown eyes to me, and they glitter with mischief. ‘What about you? Going up there?’
‘Only if you are,’ I counter.
‘Oh, I will, if you do a duet with me.’
‘Go on, Leesh!’ Lucy nudges me nearly off my seat. ‘You did one with Barry last year.’
Yeah, but that was with Barry , funny old Barry who’s more a daft uncle figure than a knee-trembling hunk. This is Finn we’re talking about - I can’t go on stage and sing a lovey-dovey pop song with him, or worse, a romantic ballad!
I’m about to decline, until I catch that cheeky sparkle in his eyes once more, the one that says ha! I knew you wouldn’t dare. And suddenly, I just can’t back down.
‘Alright.’ I stand up, swaying slightly on my stilettos, though I’ve only had a few sips of beer. ‘You’re on.’
Fists clenched at my sides, I march forward with determination, weaving through the crowd and leading the way to the karaoke machine, but inside, my gut is churning.
Am I about to make a huge idiot of myself?
It didn’t matter so much last time with Barry as I’d had too much to drink to care, but I’m hardly even tipsy.
What if I sound awful? Or what if I sound good and people think I’m a try-hard for taking it too seriously?
All too soon, I’m standing in front of the karaoke machine set up by the jukebox, and I flick through the options available . Summer Nights, Rewrite The Stars, I Got You Babe, ugh, we can’t sing any of these together! That would be way too cringy.
All the duets are the same - love songs that range from cheesy to downright passionate. But then I happen upon one that’s so fitting, it could have been written for Finn and I. Anything You Can Do - ah, it’s perfect!
I point to the screen and turn to Finn with a smirk. ‘Let’s do this one.’
He leans in closer to see my selection, and he bursts out laughing. ‘Fine by me!’
Despite the fact I barely touched my pint, any nerves niggling at me miraculously melt away when I’m standing beside Finn, microphone in hand. The jaunty music starts up and I sing the first line with gusto.
‘Anything you can do, I can do better, I can do anything better than you.’
‘No, you can't,’ Finn chimes in, putting on a hammy American accent.
‘Yes, I can.’
‘No, you can't!’
‘Yes, I can!’
‘No, you can't!’
‘Yes, I can, yes I can!’
As the song progresses into ridiculousness, Finn and I end up shouting our lines over one another, and we collapse into fits of laughter, along with our captive audience. Suddenly, I feel so silly for being worried, it’s just a bit of fun, after all!
We take our bows and as we head back toward the table where Lucy is whistling and whooping, Barry brings us each a pint of golden beer.
‘You guys made quite a team up there,’ he remarks with loud guffaw. ‘Very entertaining.’
‘Yeah, she’s a real card, this one,’ Finn nudges me in the side and winks.
‘Says you, Mr Musical,’ I stick my tongue out. ‘Who knew Finn Morton was such a theatre kid?’
‘Not me, that’s for sure,’ Barry chuckles. ‘That’s the first time our Finn has ever had a go at karaoke. You must bring something out in him.’
‘Alright, alright!’ A streak of pink flashes along the edge of Finn’s cheekbones and he shakes his head at his uncle. ‘I’d better get back behind the bar.’
Before I can say a word, he dashes off through the horde of people, disappearing into the crowd.