‘Right. Makes sense.’ She nodded curtly.
‘What table are you?’ he asked.
‘Seventeen.’
‘Ah, me too.’
Fin couldn’t help but notice Eleanor’s face twitch in response. Was it out of anger? Frustration? It seemed his ability to read her little quirks had been lost over the years.
‘No, you’re not. I checked the seating plan. Your name wasn’t on it.’
Fin put his hands in his trouser pockets and smiled awkwardly. ‘I was actually a bit of a last-minute addition so I’m not sure there was time to officially change the names. Technically I’m down as George’s pregnant cousin.’ He tried to joke, willing even a hint of a smile to appear on her face.
‘I see.’ She nodded. ‘Well, we’d better go – everyone is seated.’
‘Of course.’ He gestured ahead. ‘After you.’
The pair made their way silently across the room. Fin could feel the tension grabbing hold of every cell in his body, squeezing and twisting until it felt like screaming.
‘I have to be honest.’ Eleanor’s voice was only just audible over the rolling waves of surrounding chatter. ‘I’m quite surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you came back that much any more.’
Fin faltered, the honest answer forcing its way to the surface. He swallowed it down hard and smiled.
‘Every decade or so.’ He laughed uncomfortably at his poor joke. Eleanor returned an equally half-hearted smile.
‘Talking of surprises …’ Fin tried to divert the conversation away from his unexpected visit. ‘Where’s Oliver? Or have I missed him?’
Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks, her champagne spilling out of the glass once again. She gave her head a little shake and then continued walking.
‘He’s not coming,’ she replied flatly.
‘Oh, still working hard as ever?’ Table seventeen was fast approaching and Fin could already see his name place standing tall and proud, beckoning him over. He looked either side and saw names he didn’t recognize. If he hadn’t been so distracted trying to find where exactly Eleanor was seated, he might have noticed the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes. Only when he heard her strained voice did he stop and pay attention.
‘We … we aren’t together any more.’
He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.
Oh, well done, you bloody idiot.
Time seemed to slow to an excruciating crawl.
Say something.
Anything.
But no words came. How had he managed to lose all form of social etiquette in the space of five minutes?
‘I’m so sorry.’ He reached his hand out to comfort her, but she’d already taken a step forward and so it hung limply in mid-air. ‘Honestly, you know how useless I am when it comes to this.’
She turned to face him and wiped the tear that was rolling down her face. ‘What, talking to people?’ A hint of a smile flickered across her face.
‘Yeah, pretty much.’ He shrugged.
She carried on walking. ‘It’s OK. We broke up last year; I’m going to blame the tears on this.’ She held up her half-spilt champagne.
‘Honestly, I’m an idiot, I didn’t mean to upset you, Elles.’ He ran his hand anxiously through his hair.
‘It’s fine.’ She gave a tiny whisper of a laugh. ‘Besides … this wouldn’t be the first wedding you’ve ruined, would it?’
