Chapter 196
Scones in Reading
‘Why are you speaking like a crow?’ she asks.
‘It’s been a long day,’ I croak back.
‘So, how are the wedding plans?’ Rebecca asks. I search my brain.
‘Fine. The venue is paid for. Invites all sent. Dress is terrifying,’ I say.
‘Is that girl still making it?’
‘Lace. Yeah. I think I’ll end up wearing a white sequin jumpsuit down the aisle.’
‘Gosh. And Josh, is he doing anything?’ I can hear the judgment in her voice.
‘Yes. He’s in charge of the band, although he keeps showing me musicians that are way out of budget, which is not helpful.’
‘MEN! Anyway. Hen party,’ she says, shifting her tone.
I put the phone on loudspeaker and lie on the bed, resting my eyes.
‘I know you said afternoon tea in London, but they are an absolute rip-off. You wouldn’t believe how much they charge people for a little crummy sandwich and a cake – ￡69 per head in sketch London!
I thought your tea on the bus would be better, but trust me, you don’t want to do it, it’s a greedy tourist trap.
Anyway, I managed to do some research during Benson’s nap times and . . . well, you know Reading?’
I open my eyes at the ceiling. I don’t like where this is going. ‘As in, the city we grew up near?’
‘Yup. Forty minutes on the train and the afternoon teas are three-quarters of the price. I’ve booked a sweet place near the river. You’re going to love it.’ She says three-quarters like this surprises her.
‘But it’s Reading,’ I say.
‘A scone is a scone,’ she says. ‘Besides, it’s not about where we are, it’s about who we’re with.
Everyone can come. Nina’s very excited. Something about an old prison and Oscar Wilde.
I don’t know, she lost me. I’ve got a booth at Be At One for happy hour.
They have a dance floor, so we won’t need to move from there.
The last train is at 00:30, but we’ll aim for 23:45.
The dress code is purple. What do you think? ’
I rub my eyes. I think I’d rather paint ceramics.
‘What was wrong with the afternoon tea bus?’ I ask.
‘Daylight robbery – or should I say, afternoon robbery!’ She laughs.
‘I am going to email you the invitation with all the details, but I just wanted to run it by you first in case you hated it.’ I’m about to say yes, I do hate it, but she interrupts.
‘Oh, Benny is crying. Better go. I’ll send you the invite. ’ She hangs up.
I guess I’ll be eating scones in Reading then.