I stole a glance across the table, past Josephine and Chuck who were deep in conversation, then across the room towards the window. I was looking for something to focus on when I took my first sip. Whatever I would focus on would then always remind me of this night and my first time.
Through the window, I could see the night was black but with a slither of light cascading down from the weak security light. I could see a few specks of rain hitting the window, so I focused on the flecks of water hitting the glass. I knew any moment, I would need to take the sip to appease Caitlin.
As I stared out into the black night, my eyes were drawn to a slight movement close to the window to my right. I could just about make out the outline of a face that was pressed against the glass, a face that my mother had already warned me about. Instantly her voice came back to me, ‘Stay away from him, love.’ My glass jolted in my hand and I emitted a small squeal. I looked to my hand where I felt a little champagne spill across it and into my lap. When I looked back at the window, the face had gone. I wondered if the fumes from the champagne had made me hallucinate.
There was a loud cracking noise. I turned to Caitlin to check her face for any signs of distress, and she turned to look at me. Then the room went black.
13 London, July 2009
Two months until the wedding
It’s a clear blue sky day when I arrive at the beautiful ornate building, and I can see Chuck through the window. He is waiting in reception for me as he always does, reading a pamphlet. He looks up and greets me with a wide grin when I enter. All the stress that has been building between us these last few weeks is once again redundant. We both know that what goes on in here can override even the most negative of emotions.
I walk over to him, the air from the overhead fan cooling me down from my short walk from the Tube. We fall into an easy embrace and I can already feel the tension melting away.
He takes my hand and we walk through the double doors and head to the usual room.
An hour later, we emerge ruffled and tickled as we always do, still laughing like two fresh-faced teenagers. It doesn’t matter how many times we say we would stop, we are now addicted. We know we have a problem, neither of us want to quit.
I slip my arm into Chuck’s as we stroll along the road; the sky has clouded over, but both our appearances remain sunny.
‘We’re choosing the dress next week,’ I say, as we walk.
‘Really? Don’t girls get their dresses the minute a man proposes?’ Chuck says. We are heading to the nearest café in a small side street, somewhere we can remain inconspicuous.
‘Well, yes, although not our Caitlin.’ I laugh, Chuck follows suit. Our laughter fades to silence. I’m thinking about the girl we know and love in our own ways, and I wonder if Chuck is too. ‘She loves the spontaneity – she didn’t think choosing a dress months before would make it any easier. The dress will choose her, apparently.’
‘Ahh,’ Chuck says as though he understands. Which, of course, he doesn’t.
‘You do so much for her, don’t you? You always did,’ Chuck says reflectively.
I think about Chuck’s words for a moment. I think about what I have done for Caitlin, what I am still doing.
‘She’s my best friend, and weddings don’t organise themselves, Chuck,’ I say, making light of the situation. ‘At least you don’t have to worry about a wedding speech,’ I remind him.
‘Well, that is a blessing, I suppose. Never been any bloody good at public speaking.’
We arrive outside our usual café, and Chuck, like the gentleman he is, stands back and lets me walk through the door first.
Chuck slips into a chair and I in front of him. A moment later, there is a waitress at our side. Chuck orders us our favourite coffees and a round of buttered English muffins with jam.
‘You’re still such a public school boy – buttered muffins and jam in the afternoon.’ I scoff.
‘You’re such a Hackney girl – black coffee and sugar.’ He raises his eyebrows.
‘Touché.’ I laugh.
‘Polar opposites.’ He smirks. ‘But it’s what I’ve always liked about you.’
I smile and take Chuck’s hand in mine.
I don’t go back to the office, instead I treat myself to an early end to the day. The house is stuffy from the afternoon sun. I fling open a few windows and pull down the blinds in the living room, where the sun is reflecting its strongest rays. I feel a pang of guilt as I always do when I think of Oscar and Caitlin, both unaware of my secret meetings with Chuck. And of course I still feel horrible about turning Oscar down. I told him I couldn’t just drop everything and start thinking about my own wedding when I’m in the middle of organising my best friend’s big day. I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I don’t feel worthy enough yet to settle down and marry. I told him I wanted our time to feel special, and with Caitlin’s wedding taking
