Before I Do(5)
“So, how’s the Monster of the Bride?” asked Clara.
“In her element, directing her first production,” said Audrey.
“This must be a novelty for her. A wedding where she’s not actually marrying anyone.” Clara gave Audrey a sly grin. “Can we play Vivien Wedding Bingo? We’ll drink a shot every time she mentions one of her own weddings.”
“No, we’d be under the table before the ‘I dos.’ How was it, leaving the girls? Is Jay going to cope without you?”
“He’ll be fine, he has my mum to help. I’m here for you, no distractions. I don’t want to be one of those shitty bridesmaids who spends the whole day checking in on their kids. Do you remember Katie Evans at mine?”
“She was the worst,” said Audrey, smiling.
“I think she had her Bluetooth baby monitor on for half the service.”
Audrey looked out of the car window and up at the gray, cloudy sky.
“Evenings are so light in June. Maybe we should have gone for a Christmas wedding, the stars would be out by now.”
“And miss out on the perfect venue, with extensive grounds and on-site accommodation?” Clara asked, impersonating Vivien’s clipped voice. They both smiled. “What is it you always say to me? The stars are always there, even if you can’t see them.”
“Did I tell you Josh bought me a new telescope as a wedding present?”
“Oh my God, I love him. He knows you so well.”
Just as Audrey was beginning to feel herself relax in the warmth of Clara’s company, her phone pinged, and she reached into her bag to check it. It was an e-mail, a generic newsletter from a London art gallery, but the headline jumped out at her. “Benedict Van Vuuren, one of the greatest sculptors of our age.” It was a press release for a retrospective exhibition of his work. His name alone was enough to make Audrey bristle. Every cell of her body felt tense. She hadn’t thought about him for months, and now his name jumped into her inbox the night before her wedding. She gave an involuntary shiver.
“Is that Jay?” Clara asked. “I told him I was driving most of the afternoon, so if there was an emergency, he should call you. Oh God, what’s wrong, what’s happened? Did one of them choke on a grape?”
Audrey shook her head, closing the newsletter, trying to keep her hands from shaking. If she started talking about Benedict, it would give him a presence at her wedding that he didn’t deserve, take up headspace she couldn’t afford.
“It’s nothing, it’s fine, just a boring e-mail.”
She thrust the phone back into her bag. Her arms started to itch, faint red hives appearing on the delicate undersides of her forearms. She tried to scratch them, but the thick gel polish on her nails rendered them blunt and ineffective.
“Did you feel nervous, before your wedding?” she asked instead.
“Of course, the buildup is super stressful, there’s so much to think about. Tomorrow all the tedious wedmin stress will be over, and you can relax and enjoy yourself. Then in two days’ time you’ll be in Ibiza, in that luxury hotel, with a honeymoon suite bigger than my apartment, and you and Josh will have plenty of time to make up for him being stuck in Singapore all month.” Clara turned to raise an eyebrow at Audrey. “And I’ll be sitting in London traffic, doing the nursery drop-off, my flat white from Pret the highlight of my morning.” Clara reached out a hand to squeeze her friend’s knee. “You’re marrying Josh, how can it be anything but wonderful?”
Audrey mustered a smile, knitting her hands together in her lap and then turning to look out the window. Clara was right, a few prewedding jitters were entirely normal. She was missing her dad, she was intimidated by the size of the church and the sheer number of guests that were coming tomorrow, and now with Benedict’s name jumping into her inbox, it was no wonder she felt a little on edge. As long as nothing else happened to freak her out, she would be fine.
* * *
Audrey and Clara were first to arrive at the Red Lion pub. They found the private dining room already decorated and laid for dinner. The pub’s red walls were covered in dark oil paintings depicting gory hunting scenes. Antique brass pint jugs hung from pegs along the low oak beams, and the dining chairs were lined with green and yellow tartan. Suffice to say, the décor of the pub didn’t blend especially well with the pastel tones of the pink and lilac floral centerpiece and heart-shaped confetti that had been strewn across the table.
“Did the pub do this?” Clara asked.
“Debbie must have been here this afternoon,” said Audrey, making a mental note to thank her mother-in-law-to-be for all the effort.
“Good old Debs.” Clara sighed, picking up one of the lilac napkins with “A & J” embroidered in cursive writing. “It looks like Valentine’s Day threw up in here. I think what we need is two strong gin and tonics.”
“Vivien suggested a ‘no spirits’ rule tonight, and a firm no-seafood policy,” Audrey said.
“Fuck Vivien.” Clara laughed. “I’m baby-free for the first time in months—wine is not going to cut it. And I’m definitely drinking tonight, because I don’t have to breastfeed for twenty-four hours.”
“I think I’m going to save myself for tomorrow.” Audrey agreed with her mother on this one. She knew it was easy to get carried away, especially when she was with Clara and Hillary. It would be silly if she couldn’t enjoy the day tomorrow because she had a hangover.