it away – they’ll be swallowed by well-wishers and won’t really speak to me all day, especially as I’m an anomaly friend …
But, for some reason, out of all the wedding guests in all the conservatories in all the world, Chrissy locks eye contact with me and decides to march Mark straight towards us. The crowd parts for them like they’re Moses, and I have no idea what to think or feel about any of this, only that it’s too late too late too late because now Chrissy is throwing open her arms and saying, ‘April! Oh my God, I’m married.’
She gives me a giant hug as she ruins it all, pulling me into her silk gown, while I’m thinking fuck fuck fuck shit shit shit shit as everything disintegrates. My life is in tatters on the floor. With all the netting in my face, I can’t see him, can’t see his response. I hug her back limply, my heart pounding, wondering if I can pivot her … then she lets go so I can shake Mark’s hand and say congratulations. ‘And you must be Joshua,’ she says, dragging him into a hug too. ‘It’s so great to meet you.’
I scan Joshua for signs of freaking out, my body completely soaked through with adrenaline. But he might’ve missed the ‘April’ because it’s not showing on his face. ‘Thanks for inviting me,’ he says, giving me hope as he’s released from the netting. ‘Congratulations. It was a beautiful service.’
‘Thank you, thank you. I still can’t believe it’s fucking raining though!’ She reaches up to readjust her veil, then shrugs. ‘Never mind. C’est la vie. At least this conservatory is really nice.’
Mark and Joshua shake hands and Joshua congratulates him too. Mark’s not quite with us, his eyes darting behind our heads, looking at all the other people he needs to meet and greet. But Chrissy’s settling in. She summons a waiter and plucks herself a champagne flute.
‘So, Joshua, I was very excited to hear about you,’ she says, eyeing him over her glass, while my hand trembles on mine. I keep sipping and sipping and begging her not to say April again. ‘April is amazing.’ I flinch. ‘I hope you realise how lucky you are.’
I close my eyes. That’s it. Game totally over. ‘Chrissy!’ I protest, though she doesn’t know the true meaning of my anguished yelp.
‘What? You are. Meeting you was totally worth that terrible summer scanning-in ASDA reward vouchers for ￡5.50 an hour. So, Joshua, what do you do?’
Joshua certainly noticed the second one. His cheeks are red with confusion, his focus darting between Chrissy and me. The true horror of what I’ve done hits me in the stomach. I want to cry, scream, yell, run away – all the things it’s totally impossible to do at one of your best friend’s weddings. So I gulp the rest of my drink, tipping my neck back to ensure I get every last drop, and watch in awe as Josh acts as normal too.
‘I’m a coder. Which is much more exciting than it sounds.’ His social skills are impeccable considering the bombshell exploding in his face. His eyes flit between the two of us, like we’re a maths problem he needs to solve. ‘This is a lovely venue. Did you grow up around here?’
Chrissy doesn’t notice his shock. Why would she? ‘Yes, I spent my teen years living here. Did you see the train station? It’s such a skank-hole. But my mum has MS so we didn’t want a wedding far away, did we Mark?’
Mark jolts to attention. Looks at his new wife, and kisses her cheek. ‘No. It’s a nice find. Though I can’t take credit for any of it. Chrissy planned the whole day.’
‘Well, it’s gorgeous,’ I say. My voice is very shrill indeed. ‘You don’t notice the rain at all. Just perfect.’
‘Thanks love. Right, I better go and speak to everyone before dinner. Joshua, it was great to meet you. Take care of April here, won’t you?’
Three times. Three times she has said my goddamned name. I close my eyes. Breathe. Open them.
‘Congratulations again,’ Joshua calls after her, as the newly-weds turn to a group of lawyers, congratulations raining down on them as hard as the rain outside.
Joshua finally turns to me, his face unreadable.
I turn to Joshua, bracing myself for impact.
We look at one another honestly for the first time since we met. When he talks, his voice is polite, quiet. ‘Umm, Gretel?’ he asks, reaching up