and as he takes a breath to answer, Nigel stands up and pulls Cally to her feet too.
‘Come on, guys, if we don’t dance soon, we might miss our chance.’
Cally rolls her eyes at me. ‘A lull on the floor and Patricia will wheel the violins straight back in.’
Nic slides down from his chair and looks across to the dancers. ‘So shall we?’
As my sandal hits the carpet I ignore his outstretched hand but as my leg lands it feels so wobbly it’s like it belongs to someone else. ‘I may need a bit of air.’ That was me playing for time, but as the words come out my head is spinning
‘Are you okay, Milla?’
I might be swaying as I duck to avoid Nic’s arm coming around my back. But I just claimed I was sober, and he’s super-judgmental so I’m hardly about to admit the room is whirling round so fast I feel like I’m on the waltzers.
And then Cally is pushing him out of the way. ‘Let me take care of her, Nic.’ She dips into my bag, and as we bolt for the door we’re going so fast I know she’s going to vomit again, but she’s talking to me. ‘Don’t worry, Milla, it’s all fine, we’ve got this.’
But it’s all wrong, because as we trip through the doors and lurch out onto the terrace and the wind tries to tug our hair out by the roots, she’s the one who’s holding out the purple bag to me. And I’m flailing for the bag, but every time my hand goes out, it’s not where it’s supposed to be. Then there’s a tap on my shoulder and it’s spinning to check that tap that finally makes my head explode. And as I turn in slow motion it hits me that I’m the one who feels like puking here. But the bag has gone, and instead I’m throwing myself forward. Knowing I have to keep the vom off the bridesmaid’s dress.
As the heave finally comes, I clamp my eyes shut, drop to my knees and dive for the floor. It’s only as the heaves finally subside and I feel my cheek pressed up against smooth cool fabric that’s wet and smells of sick, my fingers tangled in shoelaces, that it hits me. I may just have vommed on the best man’s feet. And possibly his tux too.
Chapter 16
Sunday, the next day.
In my room at the Waterfront Marina Hotel.
Afters.
‘Is that you, Nic?’
I open my eyes a crack, take in the dark-haired figure by the window sliding back the curtains who’s definitely not from housekeeping. Then, as the sunlight floods across the carpet and my head splits open, I clamp them closed again very fast and moan. ‘What’s going on?’
Even if I can’t think what the hell he’s doing in my room, the good news is that the shirt and dark chinos are less of a challenge than yesterday’s suit. The part that’s not so brilliant is that the last thing I remember from last night is being sick on my hands, but how I made it to bed is a total blank. I know I’m about to feel mortified, but I’m not sure how much.
Nic’s sounding very business-like. ‘Patricia’s ranting this morning, I made the executive decision we’d be safer to have breakfast up here.’
My heart’s sinking. ‘What annoyed her most?’ The list is huge. I can’t bring myself to say the actual words, but the bridesmaid barfing has to be close to the top. In terms of embarrassing myself, it doesn’t get much worse.
Nic’s eyebrows go up. ‘You’re lucky, Patricia was still too apoplectic about the lack of violin concertos to notice what was going on out on the terrace. And your party bangers worked their magic – there were oldies doing non-stop crazy dancing until the early hours. I’ve returned the CD, it’s on the dressing table with your purple box.’
‘Great.’ At least that’s flagged up that Patricia doesn’t know, but I’m still not sure how he feels about getting puked on. For me trying my hardest to come across as a professional, it couldn’t be a bigger disaster.
He’s standing with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, his eyes narrowing in query. ‘What worries me more is a bridesmaid who’s so disturbed at missing out on her own wedding she sets out to drink so much she travels with her own sick bags.’
Here we go! It had to happen. I’m opening and closing my mouth, thinking how