No, that’s not fair of me. At least Ashley loves Matt. She’s hanging on to some thread of hope for the future.
I’m hanging by a thread that’s choking me, purely to please my parents.
I swill the wine around my glass, staring at it like it holds the answer.
‘I will. After Conor’s wedding.’ Conor, my gorgeous, kind, considerate older brother, is getting married to his childhood sweetheart, Clarissa, two days before Christmas.
Two days.
Who does that?
Apparently, Clarissa always wanted a winter wedding. Personally, I think the two of them picked the twenty-third of December so they can swan off somewhere hot on their honeymoon instead of enduring another formal family Christmas.
Though surely when they’re married, our parents won’t insist they sleep in separate rooms anymore when they visit?
Either way, Conor’s the type of guy who would give his wife whatever she wants. Not for a quiet life, but because he wants her to have everything she ever wished for. He’s one of these all-round good guys, thoughtful and kind, in addition to being a successful cardiologist.
No wonder I’m a disappointment to my parents - I’m an unmarried art teacher, harbouring secret flighty dreams of travelling the world and capturing its beauty with my paintbrush, one canvas at a time.
While I don’t relish living in Conor’s shadow, Idorelish being his little sister. He’s the best brother I could ask for. And Clarissa is an absolute darling.
‘You actually want to bring Dan “Do-you-know-how-many-calories-are-in-that- glass-of-wine, Holly?” to Conor’s wedding?’ Savannah’s blue eyes widen in horror.
The waitress returns with another bottle and Savannah thanks her without breaking our stare.
‘I’ll take “Dry Dan” counting how many glasses of wine I do or don’t consume over the endless comments from my mother about how it’s time I settle down to get married, find some security with a decent man, blah, blah, blah.’ I proffer my glass under Savannah’s nose for a refill. ‘She’s preaching to the converted, believe me, I want to get married, but there’s as much chance of finding a suitable man in this city as there is of Nate Jackson waltzing in and sweeping me off my kitten-heeled feet.’
Ashley’s tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth in sympathy, while Savannah smooths her dress down over her thighs with a tut.
‘Let’s drink.’ I raise my glass in a toast. ‘To Sancerre Saturday.’
‘Sancerre Saturday.’ The chinking sound of glass is drowned out by Wham’s ‘Last Christmas,’ and I knock back my wine as if it’s my own last Christmas. The alcohol crusades through my bloodstream, chasing away the remaining tension accumulated during the week.
My position as an art teacher isn’t stressful per se, but every teacher feels the pressure to provide a first-class education to our private school girls in the stately Victorian building known as St. Jude’s.
Add that to the pressure of pleasing my parents, and Dan as well, the load is growing increasingly heavy.
‘Uh oh, he’s coming our way.’ Savannah kicks me beneath the table, running her fingers through her blonde bob.
I don’t need to ask who. It’s written all over their faces.
Dry Dan might not be a fan of my friends, but the feeling is entirely mutual.
My head turns. Dan approaches, an unmissable glint in his granite eyes. The hackles on my neck rise in a nervous anticipation.
Yep, definitely time to call it a day. Nothing about our relationship sits well with me. Better to be single than with the wrong man. Even if my pearl-clutching mother would disagree with every part of that sentence.
Looks like I’ll be flying solo at Conor and Clarissa’s wedding, after all.
‘Hi Dan.’ My smile stretches tightly against my teeth.
‘A word.’ Dan clicks his fingers at me like I’m his dog.
‘Erm, I can’t abandon the girls right now, but please, sit down if you like.’ Grabbing my gold clutch bag, I make room for him on the seat next to me.
‘Home. Now,’ Dan barks, a thunderous expression on his face.
‘Who are you? Her father?’ Savannah snaps, her bright eyes glittering dangerously.
