“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea. I might need physiotherapy, and I only had the awful things on for a few hours.” Carole grinned and rolled her eyes. “The things we women do to look good. It’s insane. Anyway, before we hit the dancefloor, I’ll change into mykitten heels. Thank God I brought them, or I’d be confined to recovering in a chair for the rest of the night.”
“That’d be a shame.”
“It really would. I think I might already have a couple of blisters forming thanks to those ridiculous high heels, so if I end up lurching and limping around on the dancefloor later, you’ll know the reason why.”
“I would’ve simply assumed you were attempting to match my own dreadful dance moves.”
Carole laughed again, and Tom realised how much he liked the sound of it.
How much he liked, too, the bright spark that lit up her eyes when she found something amusing.
As he ate his dessert of strawberry cheesecake, the conversation opened up again at their table and continued throughout the coffee and after dinner chocolates. Once everyone was revived with caffeine following the big meal, the master of ceremonies announced that the dining room would be reorganised to accommodate the evening party and dancing and invited the guests to return to the bar while the staff got to work clearing the space.
Everyone joined the exodus into the bar. While Carole hurried to the cloakroom to swap her shoes, Tom got chatting with her parents, and her sister and brother-in-law.
They were a friendly bunch, and Carole’s little nieces, Nancy and Lily, kept them all entertained with a blow-by-blow account of their role in the wedding ceremony and how much they’d enjoyed wearing their pretty dresses and carrying their flower bouquets.
They were sweet kids, brimming with energy and seemingly capable of talking non-stop. By the time a couple of the other flower girls appeared and hauled them off to practice a dancemove they said they’d been working on for the reception, Tom’s ears were ringing from their barrage of chatter.
“Those girls,” their grandfather said with a head shake and an apologetic look for Tom. “I swear, they wear us all out.”
“It looks like they’re having a great day,” Tom said. “And I get the feeling they’ll outlast us all on the dance floor later.”
“Oh, they will,” Jane agreed. “And they’ll still be going strong once we get home tonight. They’re completely inexhaustible.”
“Tom don’t be surprised if they insist you dance with them later,” Nina said. “They won’t take no for an answer, I’m afraid, but if they get too boisterous, just let us know and one of us will rescue you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Tom grinned.
“Famous last words,” said Frederick. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
Carole reappeared just then, looking more comfortable now she’d changed her footwear.
“Does that feel better?” Tom asked, nodding at her feet.
“Much better. I feel like a new woman.”
“Here, have some medicinal prosecco,” Tom said, passing her a fresh glass.
She accepted the drink with a laugh. “I’ll keel over if I keep drinking at this rate, and it won’t have anything to do with treacherous footwear or debilitating blisters.”
“You’ll sweat off the alcohol once you’re on the dancefloor,” Jane chipped in.
“Thanks for that visual,” Carole said. “Poor Tom will wonder what he’s let himself in for.”
Soon after, the busy master of ceremonies reappeared and invited everyone to return to the dining room which was now ready for the evening entertainment to begin. The space had been transformed during their brief absence, with all the tables and chairs moved to the sides of the room to open the dancefloor. Twinkle lights danced around the room and a band was waiting on the low stage at the front.
Once the guests claimed their seats and set their drinks on the tables, the bride and groom were announced one more time as they took to the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. Applause and cheers broke out amongst the guests and the band began playing as the groom took the bride into his arms.
“They look so gorgeous together,” Carole said as they watched the couple dancing. “I hope the photographer is still here to capture this.”
Tom pointed across the room to where the photographer was perched on top of a chair to snap an overhead shot of the happy couple dancing together while surrounded by their wedding guests.
“Oh, that will make a fantastic photo,” Carole said, her eyes damp as she watched the scene on the dance floor.
“Hey, save your tears,” Tom said on a soft laugh. “You’ll need them for when it’s our turn to dance and you realise just how awful I am.”
