I get into the shower, hoping it will wake me up. I think I must have had about three hours sleep, on and off, so I keep my head raised to the running water, letting it massage my face, stimulating my senses.
As I get out of the shower and head back into the bedroom, I can hear that Caitlin is up. It’s still only just after six thirty, but Caitlin is used to being up early. I don’t suppose she’ll choose today to break that habit. Part of me hopes she will, that maybe she drank a lot of alcohol when I popped out last night and she’s too hungover to go through with it. Would it be too late to call the whole thing off?
My stomach is pulsating, and I fumble trying to get the hotel dressing gown on.
Once I do, I step out of the bedroom into the adjoining hallway and sitting area.
Caitlin is in her bedroom, sitting on her bed. She’s already showered and is brushing her short hair back away from her head. I offered to get her a hairdresser in for the morning, but she said she was happy with a simple blow dry and she has some accessories to put in her hair. And, of course, that dress, which is quite spectacular by itself. It’s not an exact replica of the dress Ava wore to her own wedding, but there is enough of a likeness for it to cause a stir amongst those who were at Ava’s wedding and can remember the dress. But I’m sure it will only be Ava who will see Caitlin’s dig.
I go over to the bed where Caitlin is still sat, wrapped in a towel.
‘Did you sleep well?’ I say in an almost husky whisper. My vocal cords have not woken up yet and will require a vat of English breakfast tea to lubricate them and to stimulate me enough to begin to embrace the day ahead.
‘I think so. I had a weird dream about Chuck and me We were on a boat, sailing away, and everyone was waving, except they weren’t wishing us well, they were warning us.’ Caitlin shrugged.
I take a deep breath and feel my body shudder at the description of Caitlin’s dream. What must she have been thinking about last night for her brain to interpret what is supposed to be the best day of her life in that way?
‘It’s just nerves, isn’t it? Everyone gets them, even those who don’t believe in the clichés of a wedding,’ I say, and I am pleased I am able to extract a small smile from Caitlin. ‘Shall I make you some tea?’ I continue. ‘Or would you like to go down to breakfast? Perhaps I can order some up to the room?’
‘So many choices.’ Caitlin stays facing the wall as she brushes her hair.
‘I’ll order up. Continental and extra fruit?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
I call down to the reception and order the food. Caitlin dries her hair and begins applying the foundation of her make-up. I check my dress over. A pale pink off-the-shoulder number that reaches the floor. Like Caitlin, I had chosen the bridesmaid dress quickly. I wanted something that would complement but not outdo Caitlin’s wedding dress.
Breakfast arrives, and I set us up next to the window where we have a view over the city. The sun is rising and there is an amber glow across the skyline. I look at our pastries, fruit and coffees on the starched white tablecloth covering the small round table. A streak of the light has landed across the table. How perfect it all looks.
Caitlin sits down and places a starched white napkin across her lap in her dressing gown. I pour her a cup of coffee and watch as she tucks into a cheese and ham croissant. I nibble on a slice of watermelon.
‘How are you feel—’
‘Oh God, Sasha, no! Not the “How are you feeling?” again. You must just carry on as though this is a normal day. I don’t need the mollycoddling.’ Caitlin takes a sip of her coffee.
‘Fine.’ I look down at my plate. I swallow down my disappointment at Caitlin’s tone. After today, I won’t need to allow her behaviour to affect me.
‘Oh don’t pout, Sasha – it doesn’t suit you.’ Caitlin cradles her coffee and looks out across the skyline.
We finish up breakfast with me refraining from making any further comments about Caitlin’s state of mind or any reference to the rest of the day. I check her dress over once more to make sure it hasn’t gained any extra creases or stains since yesterday. Then we go our separate ways into our rooms to get ready. The service is at 11 a.m. Caitlin had been adamant that she hadn’t wanted to wait all day, and eleven was the earliest slot I could get for her. I was sure she would have done it earlier if she’d had the chance.
When I get back into my room, there are two messages on my phone. One from Oscar, telling me he is looking forward to seeing me later, and one from Chuck.
Wish me luck x
I begin to think of all the things I want to say to Chuck. I had known him over half of my life, and today feels like such a momentous occasion for both of us. But we had spoken for so long last night I felt we had covered everything there was to say to one another. But I am still about to let him down.
I emerge from my bedroom just over an hour later. I have done most of my make-up
