Court Out - By Elle Wynne Page 0,105

up between her fists. She looks like she’s struggling with something. It takes a moment before she replies.

“Yes, well I doubt if that’ll ever happen. Now I’d better get to bed.”

With that, she gets to her feet with remarkable agility for someone with that level of sobriety and leaves the room without a backwards glance.

I text Sebastian, bidding him goodnight and letting him know what I heard from Roger. He replies within seconds. It would seem that Ewan is experiencing his own wedding nerves, but that’s probably due to Serena’s behaviour, not any other women he’s debating leaving her for.

I relax on the bed and debate whether to crack open some Pringles from the mini-bar but decide against it. It really would be terrible if, along with all the other guaranteed drama tomorrow, my dress bursts open at the seams. Aside from the excesses of champagne today, the diet has really been a success. I haven’t actually seen the bridesmaids dress since we first picked it out. Serena has it with her in her room. I did ask to try it on earlier, but apparently it was with the seamstress who was doing a last minute alteration to the hem.

It’s actually a pretty nice dress. Floor length lilac silk, with one shoulder and some draping around the waist. It’s technically simple, but strangely flattering. I’ve got some gorgeous silver Gina platforms to wear with it and my diamond solitaire earrings that my parents bought me for my 21st.

Serena’s sister Dianne and Ewan’s sister, Marsha are the other bridesmaids and she has a couple of flower girls too. The hair and makeup people will be here pretty much at the crack of dawn so I really should be trying to get my beauty sleep.

One AM comes, then two, then three. I’ve given up on counting sheep or trying to do long division in my head in an attempt to drop off. No matter how many ways I toss and turn, my mind is still racing with ways in which the current predicament could play out. The police wouldn’t really arrest Serena at her own wedding, would they? If not, then when? I wonder if Hobbs has been arrested again? What’s happened to Walker?

I just need to know what is going on. DC Connelly didn’t get back to me, so I’m totally (And literally at this moment) in the dark. I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling. Whatever happens, I hope the makeup lady brings vats of concealer to disguise the suitcases now lodged under my eyes. I decide to get up, stretch my legs and get some fresh air.

I dig out my recently well-worn trainers from within my suitcase and slip them on. It’s quite a warm night so I guess I should be ok in just my pajamas.

I creep down the dark corridor, anxious not to disturb those luckily enough to be enjoying their deep slumber. As I head down the stairs towards the front door I’m surprised to see a figure in white stood outside on the steps. A cloud of cigarette smoke is around them and whoever it is, is pacing across from left to right. Trying to be as quiet as I possibly can, I sidle up to the door and realise with a start that it is Serena. She’s in her dressing gown, with her hair on top of her head in a messy bun. She’s also talking to someone on her mobile. I can’t hear what she’s saying but from the look of it, it’s a pretty heated conversation. She’s clearly arguing given the expression on her face and she looks far from the radiant bride that she’s supposed to be.

I duck out of sight and try to remain in the shadows. I wonder if there is any way that I can listen to what she’s saying? Inspiration strikes and I make my way into the small cloakroom off the main hall. Carefully, I open the small window and get as close to the gap as I can. For a second I can’t hear anything, then Serena’s voice rings out, sharp and crystal clear through the night air.

“No, of course I don’t know how she knows about us, but she does!”

She sounds impatient and massively annoyed.

“Something she said earlier. By the way, has Quinn said anything to you?”

There’s a long pause. She is still pacing around the front of the property, smoking furiously.

“How is this my fault! Anyway, where the fuck