‘Whit,’ he says, smiling. ‘Hello.’
He’s standing outside one of the rooms, suit bag slung over his shoulder. He looks good. Sharp. Handsome. Like the version of Andy I used to imagine he might grow into one day. Getting married oddly suits him. It’s like I’m seeing him as a man now, rather than my dorky friend.
‘You look…’ I trail off, because what am I actually going to say?
‘Like I’m about to get married?’ he finishes, amused.
‘Yes,’ I say softly. ‘Exactly like that.’
‘Want a peek?’ he asks, unzipping the bag, showing me his suit and tie.
I peer inside and it hits me. He’s getting married. Actually getting married, and I’m going to lose my friend – and to Cordelia too. She’s going to be a nightmare. I’m not going to want to be around her. I feel like I’m going to burst into tears…
‘You know, Whit, I was thinking…’ Andy starts.
‘Well, here you are, darlin’,’ Jake says, interrupting us.
I turn and see him approaching, relaxed, confident, pleased to see me even.
He slips an arm around my waist, easy and natural.
‘I was wonderin’ where my girl disappeared to.’
Andy’s gaze drops to Jake’s hand and my heart skips a beat.
‘Well, I’ll leave you two to it,’ Andy tells us. ‘So much to do.’
‘Yeah, okay, we’ll talk later,’ I reply.
‘You okay?’ Jake asks, like he knows something is up. ‘You looked like you needed an interruption.’
‘I did, thanks,’ I reply. ‘It’s a good job you noticed.’
‘If you can read horses, you can read anyone,’ he jokes. ‘Actually, horses might be easier.’
I laugh.
‘Just a weird moment,’ I tell him. ‘Cordelia is making me wear a dress I don’t like.’
‘You’ll look beautiful in anything,’ he assures me.
‘Wait until you see it,’ I reply.
‘It’s the bachelor and bachelorette parties tonight, right?’ he checks.
‘Erm, not exactly,’ I reply. ‘Let’s go get ready, I’ll fill you in.’
‘Sounds fun,’ he replies.
‘Oh, I’m not sure about that…’
26
Am I getting off easy or living a nightmare? I’m not sure. There are three ways tonight could have played out. One: I throw Andy a stag do and have to play a part in ‘sending him off’ into married life, which I don’t want to do. Two: instead of going on the stag do I have to go on Cordelia’s hen party; just me, her and JJ. Then there’s option three, the one we’ve ended up with – a joint stag and hen party with Andy, Cordelia, JJ, me and Jake in attendance. Maybe this is the best-case scenario.
We’re at the local pub, The Rose & Crown, which I wouldn’t say is old-fashioned, more just old. Everything looks like it has been this way since long before I was born and, fair play, it will probably stay this way long after I die. But that’s what people want from old country pubs, right? That charm you can’t get somewhere new.
Inside, a long table is reserved for us, decorated with all the cheap plastic tat you want to see at a stag and hen party. Mostly plastic genitals – actually, a few of them are made of chocolate, which is better.