Love at the Little Wedding Shop by the Sea - Jane Linfoot Page 0,52

yourself?’

His nose wrinkles. ‘I’ve enjoyed hearing the sea.’ His frown deepens. ‘And your dress is great. Especially the front bit.’

I’m appalled. ‘For eff’s sake, Nic, that’s not what you should be noticing.’

He shrugs as we arrive at the dance floor. ‘What? You were the one who asked.’

I ignore him and smile at Cally waiting by the dance floor. ‘All ready for the best bit?’

Nigel’s looking at her doubtfully. ‘Should we really be doing all the lifts?’

She’s looking up at him. ‘We’ve got to do those, they’re my favourite part.’

As the Master of Ceremonies comes up to the microphone stand next to the musicians, his voice booms out around the room. ‘If I can have your attention please, ladies and gentlemen … we’re moving on to the first dance. Will you please give a big hand for the Bournemouth Symphony Players who will be providing our music for the remainder of this evening.’

Nige lets out a groan. ‘What? Surely not them again?’

Cally wails. ‘What happened to my disco?’

I hiss at Penny. ‘These two are dancing to The Supremes, and this time we’re NOT BACKING DOWN!’

Penny’s talking through gritted teeth and looking like she’d like to throttle me. ‘Not according to Patricia. You do know any change will ruin the moment?’

I’m glaring at her. ‘You aren’t pulling that one again.’

The players have lifted their bows and the violin notes are already drifting across the room. I’ve watched for the last eight hours as Nigel and Cally have had every choice they’ve made for their day overruled. It’s definitely not my style, but something about Patricia’s sneering and Penny’s refusal to give an inch has made my blood fizz. Add in those six glasses of champagne, and I’m already over at the mic stand.

I have to say, I only win the fight for the mic because the Master of Ceremonies isn’t expecting me to wrestle him. Before he thinks to tighten his grip, the mic is in my hand. And as I hold the flat of my palm up and glare at the orchestra the notes gradually stop. I ignore the 150 other open-mouthed faces staring at me like they want to nuke me, and drag in a breath.

‘Okay, so listen up … er … ladies and gentlemen, Nigel’s dad, Patricia. I think we all agree that Patricia’s wedding organisation has been totally fabulous. But the stars of today are actually Cally and Nigel – and the good news is, we’ll be having their choice for your entertainment tonight: first they’re going to be dancing to You Can’t Hurry Love by The Supremes, and after that you’ll all be dancing the night away to my personal collection of wedding party bangers.’ I dip into my bag and hold my CD high in the air. ‘Track twenty-three, Penny, please. Take it away, Mr and Mrs Anderson!’

I look out at the audience expecting at least one person to inadvertently clap, but instead there’s only a gaping awkward silence, the swish of Patricia’s coat tails as she whooshes off into the next room, and the distant sound of waves crashing out on the beach. But then Penny scuffles away to a cupboard in the wall, and Nigel and Cally move into the centre of the space on the floor. It feels like we’re waiting forever. Then suddenly, coming from the speaker stacks at the side of the room there’s the first, low, rhythmical beat of the drums, and the clink, clink, clink of a tambourine. And then, as the singing starts, Nigel and Cally are dancing together, shimmying across the floor. It’s bouncy, it’s catchy, it’s light, and it’s the most fun thing we’ve heard all day. You can’t hurry love, you just have to wait, love don’t come easy, it’s a game of give and take …

Nigel holds Cally at arm’s length, then pulls her in to him again. At first they’re smiling, then as he twirls her around and sweeps her backwards down to the floor then whips her up again, they start to laugh. It’s barely two and a half minutes, but they move across the room, twirling, spinning, making small steps, then big runs. One swift movement twists fluidly into the next as if they’re joined by an invisible thread. When he throws her into the air and flips her over I can’t help gasping along with everyone else.

I murmur to Nic. ‘Oh my, she’s so athletic.’ Then I kick myself for giving him the opening. This is usually where he’d tell