put into a bag and the bride pulls them out one by one, guessing who bought which pair. Some will be novelty thongs. Some will have Mrs ‘So-and-So’ stitched on their bottom. Others will be lacy, or leopard print, or huge elasticated pairs which could double as a tent. Ruby had mentioned this in an email several weeks earlier but I’d forgotten until she reminded me that morning. I’d raced back upstairs and scrabbled through the back of my drawer to retrieve the lacy thong that Mia had given me years before. In my defence, it was barely worn and the gusset looked fine.
We settled on bar stools and watched as Mia pulled out the first pair.
It was black lace with a red bow on the back. She squinted around the circle at us. ‘Amy! It’s got to be you. They’re beautiful!’
They looked like the sort of pants that would ride right up your bottom, but Amy – one of the fashionables – nodded and smiled. ‘Enjoy them, babe.’
Then came a pair with ‘Just Married’ written on them; an edible G-string made from sweets; a thong with the phrase ‘Ain’t going to lick itself!’ on the front (from Ruby) and a frilly coral pair with the word ‘wifey’ on it. Mia squealed at this while I wondered which word was worse: wifey or hubby?
My pair were pulled from the bag last. ‘They must be from Flo!’ said Mia and I braced myself for a ticking off. ‘How did you know I love this brand?’ she said, holding them up in front of her. ‘You’re so clever, thank you.’
Phew.
Patricia left after this game and the rest of us returned to the table downstairs for dinner. Between the windows, Ruby had strung up home-made bunting made from photos of Mia and Hugo. She’d also done a seating plan that put me at the end, next to Cressida from Mia’s office.
Plates of salmon appeared but most people were too pissed to eat. The fashion sorts kept drifting to the window and back again to hang out of it and smoke, gazing down on the Soho street beneath as tourists and punters wandered between pubs.
‘Are you the sister who’s going out with Rory Dundee?’ Cressida asked.
‘Yeah, how come?’
She giggled and the smell of cigarette wafted from her mouth. ‘How funny. My husband knows him.’
‘Oh right. What does he do?’
‘He’s in politics.’
‘With Rory?’
‘In the Foreign Office, mmm.’ She giggled again. ‘I think they have quite a wild time on their travels.’
‘Wild?’
She giggled again. ‘Yes, sort of debauched. On that trip to Nigeria they did recently, Wilf said they were lucky not to have gotten arrested but Rory’s so charming – he talked the policeman down. And there was that time in Brussels when Rory got in a fight with someone’s husband. So funny! Naughty boys.’
At my silence, her giggles stopped.
‘Debauched? Debauched like how?’
‘No, sorry, I didn’t mean… I think he’s better behaved now. I mean, not better behaved. Oh gosh, this is all coming out wrong.’
I smiled at her, not wanting to give away that my heart was beating at double time under my dress. What did she know that I didn’t?
Cressida waved a hand in the air. She had dark blue nails which matched her jumpsuit. ‘Just drunken stuff. Forget I said anything. Wilf says he’ll be prime minister one day,’ she added, with a more sympathetic smile.
‘He does want to be, yes,’ I replied, the fake smile starting to make my cheeks ache.
‘I’m going to have another fag,’ Cressida said, clearly desperate to escape the situation she had placed us both in. She stood and hurried to the window with her clutch bag.
I leant back in my chair as an espresso martini was put down in front of me.
‘I’ve ordered a round,’ Ruby shouted at me from the other side of the table.
That was the moment Mia swayed to her feet and caught the room’s attention – ting, ting, ting – by tapping her walnut-sized engagement ring against her empty wine glass.
‘Ijustwanttosay,’ she started. ‘ThatIloveyouall. AndI’msogladyou’rehere.’
‘SIDDOWN,’ shouted Ruby, laughing at her sister.
Mia hiccupped and slumped back into her seat. There’d been talk of going on to a gay club round the corner where men danced on podiums but Cressida’s revelation had winded me. Plus, I wasn’t much of a podium person and was worried about Harry having been on his own for so long.
‘Just going to the loo,’ I mouthed at Ruby, before making for the door with my bag and taking the