Ping. Cherry is on her way.
I see dots travelling across the top of the chat. Tash is typing. Tash has stopped typing. Tash is typing again.
‘Not sure she’ll leave day-drinking in the run-up to a Celine Dion concert for this,’ I say.
Big Sue smirks, thumbing out a message at high speed. ‘She will.’
Ping. Tash is on her way.
What a sisterhood. A lump forms in my throat. And I’m part of it. I’m a stone’s throw away from getting a hashtag blessed tattoo.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ orders Big Sue, sliding out of the booth. ‘That panic attack of yours subsided yet?’
Gosh. It has.
‘I’ll take that back, thanks.’ Big Sue tips her head down and secures the wig neatly into place.
I half smile, handing over the brush. She’s so incredibly effective. She’s one of those people who gets the job done. Minimum fuss. If the world goes to shit, then Big Sue is who you’d want in charge. I check my phone to see what she wrote in the group chat:
Sisters before misters.
I blink slowly as we take a moment.
‘Sisters are like stars. We shine brightest when we love and support each other,’ Big Sue says, her voice soft as an angel, before she quickly clears her throat and recovers herself. ‘Capeesh?’
‘I absolutely capeesh. I capeesh totally.’ Emotions are getting the better of me. ‘I capeesh so much.’
‘You’re just spoiling it now, Big Guy.’
I stifle a giggle as she flits her head, indicating for me to follow. ‘Where’s the rendezvous point?’ I ask. ‘The love sign?’ Because I think I love Big Sue.
‘Too obvious,’ she says as we scurry through the casino and into the shopping mall. We pass by all the boutiques, the shops selling oversized sweets, cookies, milkshakes. We pass the designer clothes shop that Hank Junior took us to in order to gallantly get Liberty out of her wet things. We come to an abrupt halt. ‘We’re here.’
My eyes dart about. ‘Here? The bridge?’
‘How do you think we all caught you sneaking off to get married?’ She points to the gondolas floating underneath, the gondoliers singing to their passengers, their voices carrying over the water to the crowds gathering to watch. ‘Don’t you read all the messages? Or were you too busy getting married?’ She nods down to the water. There are several white and gold wedding gondolas floating nearby. The scene gives me a wistful pang of longing. ‘How does it feel?’ she says. Big Sue’s face has taken on a slight glow of embarrassment.
‘To be married?’
She nods.
‘To be honest, I have no idea. We haven’t yet had the chance to…’
‘You haven’t consummated the marriage?’ she says, sounding shocked.
‘Well… there have been a series of pressing issues to contend with since… you know. And he has got a lifelong dream hanging in the balance. Which Birdie is threatening to ruin. It’s been a lot.’
‘Sorry,’ she says, her hand landing heavily on my shoulder. ‘Sorry you didn’t get your special day.’
I stare down at the glistening water. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be real anyway.’
‘But your feelings are real, aren’t they?’
‘They are.’
‘Have you told him?’
‘Not yet.’
