‘No, I’m dead serious,’ Ang says, taking me by the shoulders like she’s going to headbutt me. ‘I am so proud of you and we would be proud of you no matter what you do, but the fact that you’ve been working and looking after yourself and teaching all those shitey wee kids about beef even though you’ve been carrying all this?’
‘I don’t want to call you strong because I don’t think you should keep carrying it,’ says Del, feeling out her words. ‘But youare. You’re so brave.’
There’s a knock at the door, and there’s Reb, headphone round her head. ‘How are we getting on, ladies?’
None of us move, my sisters still crouched round me like protective lionesses.
‘Erm. Yeah. Alright,’ I say.
‘Cool. You’ve got an hour, and then we’ll take you down to the ceremony.’ She hesitates at the doorway. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
I don’t have the heart to tell her what I want to say, so I say, ‘Just having a normal sisterly cuddle.’
‘Nothing weird here,’ Del affirms, even though frankly, it probably looks very weird that we’re all wrapped up together on the floor.
‘Okay!’ says Reb briskly, as she walks out the door.
I go to get up, but my sisters are holding me down. It’s the perfect squeeze machine – Temple Grandin’s squeezer can’t compete with two adult sisters.
‘Are you sure-sure?’ Del says. ‘You can change your mind.’
‘If Bridget gave us the okay, then Dolly and Warren will be getting married right now anyway. It’s good. They get to look after their families together. That’s all she wanted.’ I feel my lip wobble slightly, and I bite at it to still the feeling.
My sisters relent, letting me get up.
‘I guess I’ll go and find the hair and makeup ladies we scared off,’ says Del.
Chapter Thirty-SevenDolly
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‘Dolly, stop clock watching,’ Warren says, not taking his eyes off the M25.
‘We are literally racing to beat someone down the aisle. Time is of the essence,’ I say, trying to sound light.
‘You’re stressing me. Find something to do or we’ll never get there.’
We’ve been driving for about an hour, and so far, I’ve started and stopped about three podcasts, skipped through several albums, and turned Magic FM on and off.
My phone buzzes and I jump in my skin. I’m going to burst out this dress if I’m not careful – it was not designed to sit in for hours while on a mission.
It’s a photo of Whit and Malachi, blowing a kiss. Underneath it reads, ‘Wishing you both the best wedding’.
It’s a bit shite that we aren’t supposed to attend each other’s weddings if there’s no clash, which probably makes what I’m about to do even more taboo.
I turn my phone to show Warren.
‘Dolly, I literally cannot look at that.’
‘Sorry, I always forget the rules for cars. It’s just Whit wishing us luck.’
His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You haven’t told her?’
‘About our daring escapade? No.’
