‘I’m going to smash everybody on this course. Even those gym-honed posh girls.’ She grinned.
‘Everybody except me. You have to let the bride win.’
‘I have to do no such thing. What, one hour into your hen do and you’ve gone bridezilla on me? Save the attitude for your mother-in-law.’
‘Speaking of Larissa, why isn’t she here?’ I looked around, as if expecting her to appear out of the trees. ‘I’d have liked to see her dangling off that bungee thing. Given her a helping shove down the zip wire.’
‘Unfortunately, the date clashed with her annual Lady Rosalind Institute reunion.’ Marilyn shook her head in mock woe.
‘Coincidence.’
‘No-incidence. Today has been planned with military precision. No attention spared to detail.’
We reached the first obstacle, where the rest of the choir were sorting out how they’d take turns so that someone would always be looking after Pete and Nancy.
I gave Marilyn a kiss on the cheek and whispered, ‘Thank you for ignoring my instructions. You go ahead and leave me happily eating your dust.’
By the time we had finished the course, eaten a picnic lunch sprawled on blankets in the sunshine, and limped back to base, we felt optimistic enough to construct a bonfire. The afternoon was spent wandering around scouting out dry wood, clearing up the sheep damage, and munching on the cakes Natasha and Catherine had brought along. Kim and Rowan got out their cosmetic bags and had a go at untangling our rat’s-nests and scrubbing up our outdoor faces. Not a lot they could do about the smell, but we were getting used to it.
‘Are we going out later, then?’ Yasmin asked, as Kim painted her nails for her in different colours.
‘This is about as out as you can get.’ I smiled, waving at the countryside.
‘No. I mean out, out, where other people are.’
‘We’re not,’ Catherine answered. ‘Why would we want to go anywhere else when we’ve got a rockin’ group of women right here? Sitting under the stars with a bonfire, marshmallows and Natasha’s party playlist.’
‘Yeah. No shelter, no toilet and no chairs… What more could a girl ask for?’ Rowan looked up from brushing Leona’s hair.
‘I think the plan is to be back in your own beds tonight. Hester asked the church minister guy to come and pick the gear up at about eleven.’
‘Dylan?’ Yasmin smirked. ‘So there’s at least someone to get dolled up for then.’
Kim pointed the nail polish brush at her. ‘You know better than that. Aren’t we supposed to have learned we don’t need a man to get dolled up for? Besides’ – she pulled a sly smile, looking down and pretending to concentrate on Yasmin’s fingernails – ‘I think for all of the women here, our appearance will go right over Dylan’s head. Except for one. And she could wear a second-hand bin bag and he’d not be able to take his dreamy eyes off her.’ Half the women within hearing distance froze. The others jerked their heads towards Kim.
Apart from me, that is. I reacted by turning crimson and busying myself with choosing a shade of lipstick while pretending to ignore the awkward giggles. Had she really just said that? At my hen do? Was it paranoid to even think that she might be talking about me? I couldn’t begin to guess who else it could be.
‘Get on with it, then,’ Yasmin urged Kim on, trying to change the subject. ‘Haven’t you seen the state of my cuticles?’
I gave my engagement ring a squeeze, reminded myself that Dylan’s behaviour had been entirely appropriate. Men didn’t fist bump people they fancied, did they? He was a minister, for goodness’ sake! I was ridiculous, overanalysing every look and smile, reinterpreting the kind words Dylan used all the time, andtransferring my own stupid emotions onto his entirely rational ones. Once Perry had returned from wherever he was this week, and we were able to spend a bit more time together, my feelings would return to normal in good time for the wedding.
Ah, yes. And what were your normal feelings towards Perry, exactly? Strong enough to prevent any future crushes when a handsome, kind, funny, wise, lovely man came along?
I took a deep breath. They were going to have to be.
We lit the fire as dusk began to fall and gathered round it on a motley bunch of makeshift seats – the folded-up tents, upturned buckets and cool box. The twins oohed and aahed at the crackling flames from the safety of their pushchair. As the stars emerged in the purple sky and the scent of pine trees mingled with the warmth of the wood smoke, all of us agreed this was better than being crammed round a table in some city-centre restaurant.
To make things just about perfect, Polly and baby Esme arrived with four carrier bags of fish and chips. We toasted love, friendship, a memorable weekend, no broken bones and not too many bruised bottoms, and – to a lesser degree – marriage.
‘To Perry, wherever he may be,’ Mags declared. ‘A man with excellent taste in women. May he fulfil all Faith’s bodily, mind, and heart’s desires, ’til death do them part.’
‘Bodily desires? ’Til death do them part? She should be so lucky!’ Janice said, causing a ripple of laughter.
I bent my head, pretending to hide my blushes rather than the stab of anxiety. It had been easier, in the planning and the preparation of my wedding, to dismiss the reality of the marriage that came after.
Once the sun set behind the oak trees, we brought out the blankets and sleeping bags that had managed to escape the sheep. Wrapped ourselves up in pink bobble hats and fleecy jackets, easy conversation and good company. Hester challenged everyone to give me a piece of marriage advice.
Looking around at the group, I braced myself.
