The music faded out and the lights flickered on, everyone filtering out of the library once the main attraction was over.
“That film will never get old,” Eve enthused. “It’s glorious.”
“It really is,” I agreed.
“And Patrick…” Tawna left her sentence hanging, but her voice was laced with dreams.
“I still can’t believe he died,” I said sadly. The day we’d heard the news, the three of us had sat in a stunned silence as we processed it. He might have been much older than us – older than our parents even – but he’d been the object of our affections for many years. That dangerous yet caring juxtaposition was impossible to resist, and those hip thrusts… well, they spoke for themselves.
“Nor me,” Tawna said, tears in her eyes. “All those hours we spent drooling over him as we watched that film over and over. We must have seen it dozens of times.”
“Hundreds,” Eve corrected. “And that scene where he’s tapping his hands against his shoes as Baby and Penny are dancing to “Hungry Eyes” – we used to rewind that every time.”
“And the sweat on his arms…” Tawna swooned.
I couldn’t hold back my sigh. There was something about that scene, some quiet intensity along with the way he moved to the music that had got our hormonal teenage selves all flustered. Who was I kidding? I was equally as flustered by it now.
The night was starting to fall, a blanket of violet velvet hovering over the pinky-orange glow on the horizon, and the three of us screamed out “I’ve Had the Time of my Life” as though our lives depended on it as we ordered an Uber to take us into town to meet everyone who was joining us for Tawna’s third and final hen do.
Chapter 30
Eve, Tawna and Tawna’s mum and I were preparing for the wedding rehearsal.
“You look lovely with your hair up like that, Tawna,” Mrs Maguire said. “Maybe you girls should have gone for up-dos for the wedding.”
“The whole point is it’s laid back and natural, not Hollywood glamour, Mum,” Tawna replied, while sharing her annoyance with Eve and I via a silent glare. “It’s too late now anyway. The wedding’s in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Keep still,” I instructed. “Unless you’re going for the wonky eyeliner look.”
Tawna sat up straighter and didn’t budge an inch. Even when her mum made more little jibes about her choices, Tawna was nothing but sweetness.
The wedding had come around quickly. In twenty-four hours, Tawna wouldn’t be Miss Maguire anymore, she’d be a married woman. And in just one hour’s time we’d be at the rehearsal.
The concept of a rehearsal amused me, but when I’d made light of it to Tawna she’d pointed out there were a lot of people involved and plenty that could go wrong.
“The ushers need to know their role, and Johnny’s brother needs telling where to go to do the readings. Paul will need showing ten times, you know what he’s like. You and Eve have to be aware of when to take my flowers and help with my train. Summer hasn’t even seen the church yet and I know she’ll be excited. It’s better that she gets it out of her system tonight rather than tomorrow.”
Tawna had made a last-minute decision to ask Summer to be her flower girl. As Johnny’s goddaughter, she’d love the chance to swan around in a princess dress for the day. I got a lump in my throat just thinking about it.
“I can’t wait to see her again.” I was less excited about seeing her father though. He’d still not replied to any of my messages, effectively ghosting me as Gina had Max.
“When we went dress shopping last weekend I was astonished by how grown up Summer is now, she’s shot up again,” Tawna said. “The chubbiness has completely gone from her cheeks. She’s a real skinny-malinkey.”
I stood back to admire my handiwork, Tawna’s dramatic smoky-brown eyelids and bright red lips. The look was totally different to the one I’d be helping create for the wedding itself, but that was what she wanted.
“That’ll do.” I nodded.
“You’re beautiful, Tawna,” Eve said. “Really beautiful.”
I handed Tawna a mirror and as she caught sight of her reflection she beamed with delight.
“Thanks, Soph. This is exactly the look I was aiming for.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled, as Tawna smoothed her index finger along her eyebrows. “It’s good practice for tomorrow. I’ve never done wedding make-up before.”
“It could be your next new career,” she replied. “Sophie Drew, make-up artist.”
“I don’t think so.” I laughed, although I was pleasantly surprised by how neat Tawna’s make-up was. The eyeliner in particular. I usually found it hard enough doing my own, let alone someone else’s.
“You know, I’m not sure about that shade of eyeshadow, Tawna.” Frown lines appeared around Tawna’s mum’s eyes. “It’s too dark. You look like you’ve been in a fight and the other person won.”
“It’s the fashion,” Eve explained. “Smoky, sultry.”
Mrs Maguire, who had always liked Eve, disagreed. “Just because it’s fashionable doesn’t mean it looks good. I remember the eighties. I thought I was the bee’s knees with my back-combed bleached-white hair. Had delusions that Bananarama would want me to join them. When I go through the photos I can’t believe how silly I looked.”
“I’m sure you’ll love Tawna’s style tomorrow,” I placated. “It’s less showy and makes the most of her naturally beautiful features.”
Tawna’s mum softened. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Eve and I nodded, and Tawna looked pleased at the positive attention.
“She takes after me,” Mrs Maguire added, without irony, before looking at the gold watch around her wrist. “Are
