The Time of Our Lives - Portia MacIntosh

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laughs, nodding at my dress.

      ‘I didn’t actually know I was a bridesmaid when we met last night. It was definitely a last-minute change,’ I tell him, before turning back to Tom briefly. ‘I’d better go.’

      I notice Tom look Pete up and down, his eyes narrowing as he tries to suss him out. He doesn’t look impressed, but why would he? Pete is basically Tom’s opposite.

      ‘OK then,’ he says. ‘Well, can catch up later then, I guess.’

      ‘Yep,’ I reply, although I am absolutely going to avoid doing this if possible.

      As I walk off with Pete, I take his arm and lean in closer so that I can whisper into his ear.

      ‘Thanks for saving me,’ I say.

      ‘Not a problem,’ he replies. ‘That looked a little intense. Can I get you a drink?’

      ‘Please,’ I reply. ‘Just an orange juice.’

      ‘Are you sure that all you want?’ he asks.

      I smile and nod.

      ‘Coming right up then,’ he replies. ‘Find us somewhere nice to sit.’

      I make my way over to a wicker sofa, hiding in the shade of a beautiful willow tree. From here, I have a great view of the gardens, the massive lake, and even my hotel room window. I like knowing that, if it all gets too much here, I can escape to my little hotel room and hide, while still technically feeling like I’m at the wedding. I sit and admire the view until Pete sits down next to me.

      ‘So, what’s the story?’ he asks.

      ‘The story?’

      ‘The story with the guy,’ he says. ‘There’s always a story with a guy when there’s a girl with a look on her face like you have.’

      ‘Ah, you don’t want to hear all about that,’ I tell him with a bat of my hand. ‘It’s nothing. Ancient history.’ I’m trying to play it down as best I can because I really don’t want Pete to think I am a dramatic woman with a dramatic life.

      ‘Of course I want to hear all about it,’ he replies. ‘It sounds like it might be an interesting tale.’

      ‘We went to uni together,’ I tell him, getting the ball rolling. Perhaps I’ll only tell him as much as I need to, even if it would be nice to tell an outsider all about it.

      ‘Something happen between you?’

      ‘Yes … well, no … sort of.’

      ‘That sounds complicated.’

      I smile at him. I can’t tell if he’s humouring me, just to be kind. I doubt he actually wants to know about something that happened to me ten years ago, does he?

      ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’

      ‘Every word of it,’ he insists.

      I’m really not used to getting attention from men, I’m not quite sure what to do with it.

      ‘OK,’ I say, taking a deep breath. ‘Tom and Matt were best friends when we were at uni. So when I moved in with Matt I started seeing more and more of Tom, and we grew quite close. We finally made plans for a date … but then he met someone better, so …’

      ‘Cleo?’ he asks, with an understanding nod.

      ‘Erm, yes,’ I reply. It didn’t occur to me that Pete might already know her.

      ‘Not that I’m saying she’s better than you or anything like that,’ he quickly says. ‘But I know her through Kat. I knew about her and Tom being together, but I’d never actually met the guy until now.’

      ‘How does Cleo know Kat?’ I ask him curiously.

      ‘They’re sisters,’ he says. ‘Didn’t you know that?’

      ‘I didn’t,’ I admit.

      ‘Yeah. Kat met Matt through Cleo and Tom. I suppose if you and he had got together, Tom wouldn’t have ended up with Cleo, Kat wouldn’t have met Matt, this wedding wouldn’t be happening and you wouldn’t have met me.’

      I think about the chain of events for a few seconds.

      ‘I suppose I wouldn’t have,’ I say, smiling at him.

      ‘I thought maybe they might’ve sat us at the same table but I checked and no such luck,’ Pete says, changing the subject.

      ‘That’s a shame.’

      Not just because I would have loved to sit with him and talk more, but because it means I’ll be sitting with Fi and the boys. I don’t mind sitting with Fi, I could easily talk to her all day, but I remember all too well what the boys are like, especially at mealtimes.

      There’s this unidentifiable energy between Pete and me. A tension, since the kiss we shared last night. I might be momentarily rattled by Tom being here, but I can’t let my past distract me from what is happening right now. Instead, I should let my present distract me from everything that happened back then. Perhaps Pete can distract me with another kiss, if I’m lucky (read: don’t ruin things – or allow my old friends to ruin things for me).

      ‘Well, I think we’re about to sit down to eat, but after that,’ Pete says, ‘we can sit together, have a drink, maybe have a bit of a dance …’

      ‘I’d really like that,’ I reply sincerely. ‘Well, if we’re eating soon I’d better get a move on and get around everyone with this book.’

      ‘Yes, don’t let me distract you from your newfound bridesmaid duties,’ he laughs. ‘That’s a great dress, by the way.’

      ‘Thanks. If only it were a different colour, I wouldn’t be saddled with bridesmaid duties. It was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

      Which is pretty much the story of my life …

       Chapter 6

      Then – 20th September 2008

      Things that are important when you move into a new house …

      Furniture, that’s pretty important, right? There are lots of things you need, even in a student house. Beds, tables, chairs, cutlery, lights, drawers – a whole bunch of stuff. You need a room of your own, somewhere you can sleep, somewhere you can get some privacy. Cleaning rotas are important, probably, and bathroom schedules. But the most important thing of all – the one thing that is more important than all the other things – is the housewarming party, and tonight we’re throwing an epic one.

      There are fairy lights everywhere, the music is booming, and with the tens and tens of guests who walk through the door, each one brings more and more to alcohol to add the healthy supply we bought in anticipation of the big event.

      As the familiar drum beat of The Ting Tings ‘That’s Not My Name’ starts, someone turns up the music.

      ‘Tune,’ Clarky declares as he, for some bizarre reason (probably alcohol), walks like an Egyptian across the crowded room.

      I glance around the living room, looking for my friends. I watch as Fifi and Zach take part in drinking games. They kiss for a dare, but when the game moves on, Zach puts up a wall between the two of them, like he always does. Clarky sits down at the table and spins the bottle, which lands on Fifi. He looks delighted when she’s quick to kiss him, but she’s obviously only doing it to make Zach jealous. I know better than to try and get her attention right now, she’s a woman on a mission.

      Matt is in the kitchen, sitting on the worktop, with a captive group of girls forming a crowd in front of him. He’s wearing a fedora, because of course he is. I think he thinks that cool guys at parties wear fedoras, but I can’t see that one standing

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