CHAPTER 2
Ella
Jude lifts her glass, a hush falling over our circle of friends. “Let’s raise a toast to the happy couple.”
My smile widens as the small pocket of friends turn away from the bustling house full of guests. A feeling bubbles somewhere below my tight burgundy dress that was tailored for tonight’s celebration. Everything is perfect.
“To the happy couple,” the group echoes back.
The telltale sound of congratulatory clinking follows, and time stands still.
I know if I blink, the moment will be gone.
So, I devour it with wide eyes, drinking in the smiling faces of my friends and neighbours.
Storing away this single, perfect moment to memory.
The festoons create a cascade of light along the length of our garden and set delicate patterns against our extended glasses. I release Rufus’s warm grip and raise my hand. My glass tremors. I steady my breath and let the excitement pull at my cheeks.
“And to my gorgeous bride-to-be.” Rufus’s arm is around my waist and a curl of hair sticks to my cheek as I turn to look up at him.
The warmth grows in the bottom of my chest. Rufus’s lips meet mine, just as they did the night we got engaged, a tender, perfect kiss to seal the deal.
Not for the first time tonight, I wish Dad could celebrate with me.
I could stand him on my patio and point at the sweeping trees that line my land.
Show him the endless sea of my friends and introduce him to the man who loves me.
Tell him that I’ve made it, just as I promised I would.
“Thank you all for coming out and celebrating with us,” I say, the pale liquid tasting sweet and tangy on my tongue. I take another sip.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jude says, eyeing me from across the group, her shoulder pressed into the side of Marcus’s, who turns to carry on the conversation.
I scan the garden, hoping I can embed the moment more. Everything is perfect. Tonight has to be perfect.
The conversation moves on, Marcus and Rufus stepping back, talking between themselves. Jude moves in next to me, her yellow dress bright against her dark skin and her braids twisted up into a high bun that’s held by a single matching yellow ribbon.
“This is gorgeous, you’ve outdone yourself,” Jude says, squeezing my arm as we turn to look at the guests who scatter around the garden.
There are more people here than I anticipated; they fill our living space so easily.
Conversation bouncing off each other as the violinists play out from the patio.
The house is lit up, and white linen tablecloths cover the four circular tables, making the dark candles and table dressing stand out more.
It is gorgeous, from the dark navy decor details to the live cooking display at the bottom of the patio, wafting delicious smoke across the garden.
“It was the catering company, not me.” I turn back to the house.
“Don’t do that. Sell yourself short.” Jude’s shoulder nudges into mine as she comes to stand next to me, taking in the view of the garden too.
“Have you seen Immi?” I ask. “Last I saw her, she was holding a tray of drinks!”
I’d seen Immi briefly, her smile fixed in place and her high cheekbones shimmering with powder, our eyes catching from across the room. But she was off before I could catch her, as always.
“I saw her slink off with Benji.” Jude swirls her glass, the bubbles rising to the surface with every rotation.
“Oh God, really?” I say.
“I know, but what can be done?” Jude scoffs.
“Don’t hold back, eh?” Marcus joins us, placing a kiss on her cheek. Marcus and Jude lean close, the naturalness of their relationship itching at the bottom of my throat. He places a delicate kiss on her shoulder and she smiles up at him. I pull Rufus closer.
“As long as she’s happy, we’re happy. Right, Ella?” Rufus says and I nod in agreement. Never speak ill in front of others, that’s important to Rufus.
“Exactly, and he’s a great man,” I say, eyes darting away from the micro arch in Jude’s brow. I finish off my champagne, the action filling up the silence that has fallen over us all.
“Another drink?” Jude asks, nodding at my now empty glass.
“Yes, please, I’ll come with,” I say, clocking that hers is still as full as when she received it.
That means she’s not drinking, which means she and Marcus are trying for a baby again.
I bite back the urge to ask about it. She’ll come to me when she’s ready.
If she’s ready. We fall into step, walking up the length of the patio back to the house.
The dining area is quieter, with only a smattering of party guests standing in small groups as the candles flicker and servers move around with trays of food.
Despite the worries of hosting, it’s not as hard as I thought to have fun.
A burst of laughter comes from the garden as I grab another glass of champagne from the tray.
“Thank you,” I say to the waiter who materialises at my side.
The same waiter who helped set up the floral arrangements earlier today.
I make sure to catch his eye, so he knows I’m speaking to him before moving on.
Jude makes her way to the bar, a makeshift situation that is set up against the far wall, its mahogany legs blending in with our dark walls.
Martha from number four walks past, smiling and raising her glass, a symbol of congratulations.
I follow suit. It was only two months ago that she was drunkenly shouting at Rufus, her words slurring as she swayed in the corner of the room.
I smile. That’s Rufus’s issue, not mine, but I do find it odd that arguments and feuds are ignored for social etiquette. That’s how things are here.
“Are you having fun?” Jude says. I step in next to her, leaning against the bar to avoid the intensity of her stare. She has that way about her, perhaps it’s the journalist in her. But today I can’t face her seeing the worries that sit beneath. Today is perfect.
“Yes.” My voice hitches too high and I flinch at the sound of it.
“I am. It’s utterly perfect,” I say again after a moment, forcing a natural vibrato to my words.
Jude tilts her head towards mine, her perfume catching on the breeze as it does. Lemongrass and something with a spicy sweetness. My nails itch at the inside of my palm.
“Where’s Immi?” I say again.
“Oh, there she is.” I follow Jude’s line of sight to find a blonde woman waltzing around the room, a tray of coupe glasses filled with pink fizzing liquid in her hand.
Immi kisses a guest’s cheek, her face a display of perfection, and offers the tray forward.
She looks immaculate, confident and bright.
Her cheeks are a warm pink against her cool white skin.
A juxtaposition to the crying mess that sat in my lounge a few days ago, fingers scrubbing away her tears thanks to Benji’s mindless actions.
I want to slide up to her and hug her, but instead, I wave, and she beams back at me. It’s good to see her so happy.
I step to approach her but she’s off.
“Do you think she ever stops?” I say, leaning into Jude, the bar pressing into the small of my back. A familiar calm unfolds between us.
“Immi? God no, her head would topple off her body if she stayed still,” Jude laughs.
“Oh, before I forget.” Jude strides towards the far table display, ducking underneath to retrieve something. “I got you this.”
She pushes an extravagant gold-and-navy bag towards me.
“Oh, thank you! What is it?”
“It’s called a present, Ella. People give them to people they love,” Jude says.
“Smart arse.” I peer into the bag, reaching in as Jude bats my hand away.
“Don’t open it yet, wait for when you’re alone.”
My eyes flick to the door, towards Rufus.
“Is this an… intimate gift?” I keep my voice low, a slight flush rising across my cheeks.
Jude blinks for a second before tipping her head back, her laughter loud and her eyes squeezed shut.
“No! God, I love you but no, it’s a normal non-sexual gift. I saw it and thought of you,” Jude says.
I beam, my hands working over the bag strap. What I wouldn’t have done for a friend like Jude when I was younger.
“Thank you,” I say, a swell of emotion hitching onto the last word.
“Ella, darling. Jude! Look at you both, stunning. Congratulations, Ella.” Immi and Benji make their way across the room, his arm slung over her shoulder, so they walk in gentle unison.
It shouldn’t, but it jars me seeing Benji so intimate with Immi, when only last week he was the worst person in the world to her.
“Immi, you look amazing.” I wrap Immi up, giving her the squeeze I’ve been holding onto for a while.
“Ladies.” Benji follows suit, his eyes landing shy of my collarbone as he leans down to kiss my cheek.
“Awh, thank you, darling.” Immi twirls, offering a wispy giggle followed by an exaggerated bow.
Despite being in her forties, Immi loves to give an air of cutesy to her behaviour.
It’s what drew me to her; the balance between her confidence and naivety felt almost forced, but over time I learnt it wasn’t.
“You’ve done an amazing job setting this up, darling. It all looks brilliant, and the food is sublime.” Immi’s blue eyes shine as she squeezes my forearm.
“Are you ready to take the plunge of marriage, then?” Benji says.