‘Do you want one?’ She pushed the bowl toward Charity. ‘I won’t be able to eat all of it.’ It was a lie; she knew she was quite capable of chomping through the lot.
Indecision flitted across Charity’s face before she shoved the salad into her mouth and mumbled, ‘No I’m trying to lose a few pounds before the wedding. I like your hair by the way. Very early Katy Perry.’
Isabel wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. Still, it was a break from the topic of her upcoming wedding, which was all Charity had talked about since they’d sat down. Her dress, the venue, the menu, the music, the cake but the one thing she had not touched upon over the last thirty minutes was who was in her bridal party. Given the fact the wedding was in less than two months, she was fairly certain she was not. It made her sad because they’d discussed the finer details of their imaginary weddings so many times over the years. Charity was always Isabel’s chief bridesmaid, and her dress would be mint green while Isabel was always Charity’s and her dress would be a pale lemon. Sitting here now, she found it hard to believe that the two of them had once confided everything to each other.
‘Iz, the reason I suggested we meet today…’ Charity squirmed in her seat. ‘This is awkward, so I’m just going to come out with it.’
Isabel did not say a word; she wasn’t going to help her out.
‘Look, Iz, I would have loved for you to be my bridesmaid, but you haven’t met Sam, not properly anyway and well Ashley was here, and you weren’t, and I can’t very well have both of you, can I? Not with how it stands between you two. Unless you want to try and patch things up her?’ Her eyes, sandwiched between a thick layer of top and bottom mascaraed lashes, were hopeful.
Isabel thought she might choke on her corn chip and she took a sip of water before trusting herself to be able to speak. ‘Charity, you know why I wasn’t here. I went to Australia because Ashley stole my boyfriend, which left me a bit of a wreck and I needed to get away.’
Charity speared a tomato defensively. ‘Yes I know that, and I’ll admit it wasn’t handled very well by Connor or Ashley. Ashley knows that too, and she’s prepared to meet you halfway.’ Seeing her friends stony gaze she added, ‘Ah come on Iz, it’s not as if you and Connor were ever that serious. It’s not like you were engaged or anything.’ Her eyes flitted to her shiny bauble and a self-satisfied smile danced across her lips. ‘It’s ancient history. Ashley and Connor are made for each other, and you’ll meet Mr Right too, that’s if you haven’t already. Tell me do the men in Australia all look like the Hemsworth brothers?” She giggled. ‘I bet you had a blast checking them all out.’
Isabel felt like kicking Charity, really, really hard under the table. Had she always been this much of a self–absorbed, insensitive bitch? And if so, how come she’d never noticed it before? That she and Connor had never been serious was breaking news to her. She’d been very serious about Connor; he’d said he was serious about her too, and then he’d gone and slept with Ashley.
She’d walked in on them when she let herself into Connor’s flat one evening when he thought she’d gone to the cinema with Charity. Her friend had cancelled at the last minute, and Isabel hadn’t fancied spending the evening at home, and so she thought she’d surprise her boyfriend. It was her that had gotten the surprise, and the sight of her so-called good friend and Connor—bare bum in the air going for gold with Ashley’s fingernails digging into his back was one she didn’t think she’d ever forget. She hadn’t stuck around to hear what they had to say and two weeks later she was on her way to Australia.
‘You know if I hadn’t made you have leaving drinks at the Fox n Hound I might never have met Sam. How weird is that?’
Isabel was filled with a sudden urge to run away once more, but this time it would not be to the other side of the world. This time it would be to Wight. It didn’t matter that it was only for a night or two it would give her some breathing space from the likes of Bridezilla sitting across the table from her.
‘Oh, crap. Is that the time?’ Isabel exclaimed. ‘I’ve got to run. I’m interviewing for the manageress position at Coast over in West Quay—the instore clothes discount is supposed to be fab!’
It was a lie, but the look on Charity’s face was worth it.
‘Go on; you finish them.’ She pushed the barely touched bowl of corn chips toward Charity. I hope you split your bloody dress.
Isabel would have made quite the grand exit if she hadn’t of strode out of the pub with a serviette stuck to the heel of her shoe.
Chapter 6
Isabel stood by the railings down the back of the Red Funnel ferry enjoying the sting of salty spray hitting her face. Her backpack leaned against her legs. it was going to be a bumpy crossing, she thought as strands of her green hair were whisked into a tangle. She threw her head down and wound it into a loose top
