reply when the double doors between our room and Mia’s crashed open.
‘What’s all this shouting on my wedding day?’ she said, stretching in the door, a Claridge’s sleep mask pushed back on her head.
Ruby made a panicked face at me.
‘It’s my wedding day!’ Mia said again, her arms still in the air, waiting for us to applaud her.
‘Hurrah,’ I bleated. Ruby stayed quiet.
Mia laughed and lowered her arms. ‘Thanks for the excitement, guys. Oh, I nearly forgot, hang on.’ She turned back into her room and then skipped back towards us with two cellophane packets. Tucking one knee underneath her and sitting on the end of our bed, she held them out. ‘I got you these.’
We opened them in silence. They were silky pink dressing gowns with ‘sister-of-the-bride’ embroidered on the back.
‘You like?’
We both nodded.
‘Good. But Jaz and the make-up artist are arriving in about an hour so if you want breakfast, order some now. I can’t eat a thing but can someone order me a coffee?’
Ruby lowered her dressing gown. ‘Mia, can we talk to you about something?’
‘What?’
‘I got talking to Jeremy last night.’
Mia clapped her hands together. ‘Did you? I thought you’d like him. Apparently his apartment in New York is insane.’
‘I’m sure, but ca—’
‘I think he’s sitting next to you at dinner, actually, I can’t remember the exact seating plan but I think he might be.’
‘Mia, forget the seating plan.’
‘Or maybe I put you next to Dan. Did you meet Dan last night? He’s the one who’s got quite a big nose but I don’t think you should be put off by that because apparently he’s got the most enorm—’
‘MIA! Can you listen?’ shouted Ruby.
‘What? Don’t shout at me on my wedding day.’
Ruby took a deep breath. ‘I got talking to Jeremy and he showed me a video.’
‘What kind of video?’
‘From the stag. From Hugo’s stag.’
‘Of what?’
Ruby glanced sideways at me as if for help.
‘It’s of a club,’ I went on. ‘At least I think it’s a club. It’s not that clear because the picture’s fuzzy. It could be a bar. Or a restaurant. Or maybe it was in a hotel r—’
‘Oh for God’s sake,’ interrupted Ruby. ‘I’m just going to show it to you.’
She held out her phone and Mia watched the video in silence while I winced at the repetition of all those cheers.
‘Mia…’ started Ruby, when the video finished. But she held a hand up in the air.
‘I don’t want to hear it.’
‘But wha—’
Mia held Ruby’s phone back out to her and looked at her watch. ‘Flo, you should get in the shower.’
‘WHAT?’ shouted Ruby. ‘Aren’t we going to discuss this?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it on my wedding day. Don’t ruin it for me, Rubes. Flo, shower.’
Meekly, I stood up just as our door buzzed.
‘I’ll get it,’ I said, grateful for a distraction. Any distraction.
‘MORNING, DARLINGS!’ said Patricia, pushing past me into our room. She was wearing a purple tracksuit and a turban. ‘I can’t believe one of my daughters is getting married. How are we all? Did you sleep well? Mia, sweetheart, you look pale. Have you had any breakfast?’
‘No,’ Mia replied, her voice flat. ‘Could someone order me a coffee?’
‘I will,’ trilled Patricia. ‘And shouldn’t someone get in the shower? The hairdresser’s arriving any second. Florence, don’t just stand there. Why don’t you go first?’
‘I’m going,’ I said, relishing the prospect of locking myself in the bathroom for a few minutes.
The shower knobs were more complicated than a spaceship but eventually I’d sorted out the temperature and stood under the hot water, my head reeling. A lot had happened in a matter of minutes. No more Rory. As I bent over to shave my legs, I tried to gauge whether I felt sad about this. Did I feel like crying? I scrunched up my eyes, testing myself. Nope, not a single tear. My main emotion seemed to be a sense of liberation. For weeks, I’d been trying to convince myself that I was in love when, really, it turned out having the wrong boyfriend was way more complicated than not having a boyfriend at all. I opened my mouth to laugh in the shower and choked as the water hit the back of my throat, but this only made me laugh harder. I leant against the tiles for support, hysterical with relief.
Then I thought of Mia. Poor Mia. Her situation was more complicated. But she wanted to get married so much. Maybe a grimy stag-do blow job wasn’t a red