With a cheeky wink at me, he heads off with his wife and leaves me in a state of panic. Ruby asks me why I look so worried.
“Because Obi just insinuated that he’s set me up!”
“What do you mean? With a person?” Leo asks.
“No, Leo, with one of the jam jars.” I roll my eyes. “Yes, with a person!”
“Wait, what did he say?” Ruby probes, glancing around the room as though she might be able to spot who’s single just from looking at them.
“He said that I’m sitting next to someone single, charming, and handsome!”
“He sounds perfect!”
“Ruby! I’m not ready for that!”
“Not ready for what?” She tilts her head at me. “To sit next to someone you don’t know? You do understand that you’re in control of what you decide to do, right? All this means is that you’re at a table with a single guy. That doesn’t mean youhaveto get with him. Just enjoy the company of a handsome stranger.”
I take a deep breath. “You’re right. That was an overreaction.”
“You’ve got this.”
“Right. Exactly. I’ve got this,” I repeat, not feeling like I’ve got this at all.
When the time comes to sit down, I check the table plan and breathe a sigh of relief that Ruby and Leo are at least nearby, and make my way down the length of the table to find my spot. There’s that awkward moment where you find your seat at a wedding, but no one’s really sitting down yet, so you hover next to your chair, pretending you’re just happily hanging out there,until someone else makes the first move to sit. I busy myself admiring the beautifully decorated place cards.
“Eva did those by hand, you know,” a voice above me says. “Nice to meet you, Freya, I’m Obi’s uncle, Chido.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, as he takes his seat.
I can see from the place cards that Eva’s friend Holly is sitting on my other side, so I’m going to go ahead and guess this was who Obi was referring to earlier. I must thank him later. Ruby and I share a bemused look. Chido is, at a guess, in his sixties, and certainly charming, handsome, and suave, but I think it’s safe to say neither of us is looking for a setup. We exchange some small talk about how I know the bride and groom, then sit back for the speeches before the sharing plates of food are laid out in front of us. Chido makes sure to sort my plate before tending to his.
“What was Obi like as a student, then?” he asks, filling up my water glass.
“The life and soul of the party,” I reveal, prompting Chido to chuckle, nodding in agreement. “He has a talent for making any situation seem fun.”
A random memory suddenly flits across my brain. Matthew and I had invited Obi, Leo, and Ruby for dinner a few years ago, and it turned into one of those unexpectedly brilliant nights. We’d eaten and were playing Jenga, Ruby, Matthew, and me up on the sofa, Obi and Leo sitting on the floor round the game.
Before everyone arrived, I’d done a quick sweep of the flat we were in at the time, but really more of a tidy than a proper clean, because we’d got home from work knowing the guests wouldn’t be far behind. I’d found my can of dry shampoo sitting on top of the coffee table along with a load of other crap and I’d just shoved it on the shelf underneath, out of sight.
“What’s this?” Obi said, having taken his Jenga turn. He reached for the can under the coffee table and inspected it. “Dry shampoo. How can you have dry shampoo?”
“It’s for when you can’t be bothered to wash your hair,” I informed him.
“It washes it without water?”
“It’s sort of like talcum powder for your hair,” Ruby explained. “It makes it less greasy.”
Obi looked impressed and then pulled off the cap, before aiming the nozzle at his head and spraying it all over. We burst out laughing as a thin layer of white powder covered his hair.
“You’re not supposed to hold it so close, and you have to rub it in!” I said, giggling uncontrollably along with Ruby. “You look like an old man!”
“Oh yeah?”
Obi jumped to his feet and came at us with the can, spraying it at my head and Ruby’s while we tried to shield ourselves with our arms, laughing and spluttering. After his dry-shampoo attack, Ruby and I looked at each other and burst into hysterics, both now with white-gray locks. Obi cackled victoriously.
“I have to get me some of this,” he declared, shaking the can again, looking for his next victim.
Matthew reached over and ruffled my hair. “Well, I’ve just had a flash-forward into my future. Even at ninety-five years old, you’re a looker.”
