“Okay,” I said, as casually as I could muster. “It was about six months ago with a guy called Lee who works for another law firm and we had a one-night stand after a few drinks.”
“How was the sex?” Amelie asked. “Did he deserve a replay or was it a case of rain stopped play indefinitely?”
“The second. It scratched an itch, mainly because his dick was warmer than my vibrator, but it wasn’t worth seconds. I’m sure he felt the same. There was no chemistry; it was just convenient,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Amelie. “How’s your sex life?”
She smiled. “Sugar, you don’t want to know.”
“No, really, we do.” Anything to get the spotlight off mine would be the ideal.
“Long and complicated and probably dead to be honest,” Amelie said. “Let me have another couple of these and I’ll fill you in.” She rolled her eyes.
I listened as Sophie described the latest in the love lives of two of her beauticians, spending time on the details of one impossibly large penis. My phone vibrated with a text and I tried for a few minutes to ignore then gave in. I glanced at the screen and saw Killian’s name, my heart feeling larger in my chest. I hated the effect he still had on me and I was trying my best to not think about Oxford and the memories I had of being there with him. It was like opening a closet to some beautiful dresses that no longer fit.
Killian:We’re starting at The Angel. Remember when we spent all day there?
I did. I remembered going there for breakfast, both of us bringing the reading we had to do for our courses. We kept talking to each other, about what we were studying, about the people coming and going, about random things that just occurred to us. Then breakfast turned into lunch and into dinner with wine and each other. Maxwell was away so I stayed with Killian and we spent the night looking at erotic photos and trying to recreate them. I started to respond to his text, telling him that I could remember a little but it was so long ago. Then I stopped, a chip in the wall I had built occurring.
Me:Yes. Avoid the coffee – it was terrible!
Killian:They’ll have a new machine, I suspect. It was a long time ago. But I remember.
Me:Think of me then. Especially if you can grab the seats by the window.
Killian:I never stopped thinking of you.
I slid my phone back into my handbag and focused on Sophie now leading a discussion on honeymoons and post–wedding sex, trying not think of what Killian meant. It had been three years since he’d been back from serving the country in the marines. We’d seen each other regularly and we’d bantered, or rather I’d provoked him and he’d sparred back. But he’d still been tender towards me, covering me with blankets when I’d fallen asleep on sofas at my brother’s, walking me home after nights out, sending texts to check I was okay. It’d felt like he wanted to be another big brother, oblivious to our past which he never mentioned and for which I was grateful. I didn’t want to discuss the past. I wanted to protect him from a decision I had made. One that had been the hardest of my life.
The first shop offered us prosecco as soon as we walked in and I realised the sense behind Marie’s words. Both us and the men were going to end up as drunken fools by the end of the day. Dresses hung like headless brides throughout the rooms, gauzy material full of beads and diamantes, silk that was too white and too clean.
Vanessa sat down and laughed. “None of this is me,” she said. “I’m not a princess dress, with added details and intricacies.”
“I hope you can’t say the word intricacies by the end of the afternoon,” Sophie said. “Otherwise we haven’t done our job as bridesmaids.”
The sales girl smiled, opening another bottle of prosecco. She clearly knew her audience.
“We could just go abroad. Have something quick and easy and without any fanfare,” Vanessa said, looking overwhelmed. “On a beach.”
I shook my head. “No. You’re not allowed. Jackson’s the first to get married out of all of us and we deserve the whole party. Every. Little. Bit.”
“In that case you can start to look happy about being here,” she grinned at me. I wondered if I’d been had. “Let’s have a look round. Bring what you think, whether it be a bridesmaid dress that will look horrific on Payton or something I could wear while still looking like me.”
We mooched about the shop, hanging dresses on a rack, prosecco in hand, until the shop assistant called us in. She was a petite woman in her forties, quietly formidable and clearly used to dealing with a group of fussy thirty-somethings.
It was the first dress that Vanessa picked up that shortened the trip, a fitted fishtail affair in ivory. She tried it on and came out smiling. “This is it. The hunt is over.” And then began the carnage as Amelie and Sophie started to model bridesmaids’ dresses, sucking in their cheeks and trying to blue steel for the camera. I tried on a couple, an ache in my stomach something other than physical, and attempted to keep my head in the shop rather than where Killian was and what he was thinking.
“The blue,” Vanessa said, pointing at the dress I had on. “That’s the colour. Let me get a pic and send it Jackson as he’ll have to organise ties to match.” She brandished her phone and I just about remembered to hold my stomach in and push my chest out before she snapped and then sent it. “What other styles do you have in this colour?”
Seven dresses were brought out in varying lengths and styles; Sophie leapt on a fitted number that would give a boost to her boobs while Amelie opted for a long Grecian style dress that suited her personality, although it would need shortening considerably. I stuck with the one I had on originally, a long halter neck that exposed most of my back. It was comfortable and I liked the backless detail. My phone vibrated next to me, Killian’s name flashing up on the screen.
“If you don’t get along then why is he texting you?” Vanessa said quietly. “That’s at least the second time today.”
I slid the phone underneath the material of the dress. “It’s just banter,” I said. “We’ve always been like this.”
Vanessa looked at my slyly. “I don’t believe you. Jackson said that in your first year at university you and Killian were really good friends and hung out loads, then all of a sudden you ignored him. Apparently, Killian was gutted. Care to explain before I draw my own conclusions?”
I picked my phone up and checked the message, making sure she couldn’t see it.
Killian:You look beautiful in that dress.
