I slept badly last night because of the incident, writhing about in the shame of Matthew hearing from his mum how pathetic I am. In an ideal world, I’d stay in bed all weekend, hiding under my duvet and pretending none of this happened, but unfortunately I can’t do that because it’s Isabelle and Ryan’s wedding, and I’ve taken today off work for the BBQ they’re hosting before the big day tomorrow.
I glumly pack my bag, trying to remember everything I’ll need for the next couple of days, and look up traffic to see how long it’s going to take to drive all the way to Devon. My phone starts ringing and Isabelle’s name flashes up on the screen. I hurriedly answer, wondering if she needs me to pick something up on my journey from London that the bridesmaids have forgotten.
I’m almost right. It’s not something, but someone.
One of Ryan’s friends, Jamie, who doesn’t live too far and is pretty much on my route, is supposed to be getting a train to Exeter and then a taxi from there to the venue, but there’s been a problem on the line and the morning trains are canceled. Isabelle was wondering if I could do them amassivefavor andgive him a lift. I say yes, of course, because you donotsay no to a bride the day before her wedding (unless, of course, you’re Matthew and you’re saying no to the wedding altogether), and she thanks me profusely and tells me how excited she is for us to arrive.
I don’t mind giving this guy a lift and weddings do tend to bring out the generosity of spirit, but I am slightly disappointed that I’ll have to be polite and sociable for a long car journey and not have the chance to do what I was planning to do, which was eat sweets and listen to uplifting podcasts about animals. Maybe I can still do that. Jamie might also be into sweets and interesting animal facts. We’ll have to see.
Isabelle messages me his address and number, and I load the car with my huge bag—I couldn’t focus on what to bring because of the Gail situation, so I ended up packing everything, which is fine because I’m driving so there’s no luggage limit. My phone vibrates with another message, from the WhatsApp group I have with Leo and Ruby.
Ruby
Have fun at Isabelle’s wedding!
Don’t forget your task for surviving this one
Get a guy’s cuff links
Leo
And you can’t tell him about the task
That would defeat the point
It has to be subtle
Shouldn’t you both be working?
Ruby
I look forward to hearing about your attempt at flirting
We’ll need full details
Leo
We have full confidence in you
You can do this!
Go get ’em tiger!
Ruby
You’re embarrassing yourself, Leo
I put my phone away, setting off toward Jamie’s address. I was expecting him to be waiting outside, but there’s no one here. I wait a few minutes, tapping on the wheel impatiently, and when no one appears, I get out and ring the doorbell. There’s no answer. I double-check the address Isabelle gave me. This is definitely it. I ring the doorbell again, and when that’s no use, I knock on the door.
“Oh god,” I mutter under my breath to no one, “I’m going to have to call him.”
Calling new people in these kinds of situations is so awkward, and when he doesn’t pick up, I feel like the world is against me. First Gail, now this new person, Jamie.Whydo people have phones if they’re not going to answer them?
After calling through the mail slot and getting no answer, I reluctantly phone Isabelle, whom I really don’t want to bother, but I’m not sure I have much choice. Traffic will be getting worse by the minute and I don’t want to miss this lunch.
“I’m so sorry, Freya, that is so weird!” Isabelle says, when I explain what’s happening. “Hang on, let me pass you on to Ryan. He knows Jamie better, so might know what’s going on—” Her voice becomes a little distant as I assume she holds the phone away from her. “Ryan!Ryan!Come here! You need to talk to Freya. She’s outside Jamie’s house, but he’s not there. Where is he? She’s pressed the doorbell, he’s not answering. You talked to him, right? Wait, what? Ryan!”
There’s a weird scuffle and then Ryan’s voice comes down the line. “Freya?”
