Once Mel had been buttoned back into her dress and was looking suitably bridal – and Flora had also put on her bridesmaid outfit again – the evening party could begin. The noise was increasing, as more guests arrived and hurried over to congratulate the bride and groom, who were looking much more relaxed. The DJ was well into his stride, and a few young girls were already dancing to Ariana Grande songs and grumpily turning their backs on the boys sliding past on their knees and getting in the way.
Flora was busy greeting people, catching up with distant friends and marvelling at various children, either new or well grown. Throughout, she was aware of Mac hovering at the bar, his fingers idly resting around a glass of something she hoped wasn’t whisky, seeing as he had a long drive ahead. Occasionally, she pointed him out with a casual wave to those who asked whether she had brought somebody to the wedding.
Mac wasn’t alone; Eddie was keeping him company, and Sophie had expressed her amazement that somebody was managing to keep her husband away from his iPhone for more than five minutes. Flora glanced towards the DJ, as the music abruptly faded and he roared into the microphone, making himself heard above the noise.
‘Okay, ladies and gentlemen – move over, kids! It’s time for the brand-new Mr and Mrs Oliver to get the evening started with their first dance. Come on, everybody, give it up for your bride and groom!’
Most people stopped talking and turned to look, as the music was cranked up again, and Harry and Mel smilingly made their way onto the dance floor, holding hands. Flora stood in the shadows near the door onto the terrace, as a romantic track began to play. Harry drew Mel into his arms and slowly they danced, as their guests whooped and applauded, hastily pointing phones and cameras at them, and shooing children out of the way to capture this intimate moment in the special day. After a minute or so, the DJ invited the best man and bridesmaids to join in. Flora jumped, as she felt a hand on her back.
‘Come on, Flora, you’re not sitting this one out. Fair warning, remember?’
She was already smiling as Mac led her onto the dance floor. He placed a hand in the middle of her back and took hold of her right hand with the other. She gave him a casual glance, hoping it suggested that everything was fine. Really, it wasn’t – every nerve ending was screaming in delight at his touch. Her smile was fixed as she looked away over his shoulder, watching everybody else so that she would not have to meet his gaze.
‘You’re tense again.’ Mac lowered his head to speak into her ear, his breath light on her neck. She closed her eyes and pretended not to have heard. ‘Relax, Flora.’
At first, he held her away from him, so that their bodies were not touching and a gap was maintained. But as the song progressed, Flora gradually softened in his arms, and the distance between them vanished, until she could feel the smoothness of his shirt and the contrasting hardness of his chest against her bare shoulders. His jaw, already shadowy with stubble, was against her temple and slowly his hand moved up her back until it reached her neck. Then his fingers trailed down her spine, sending her mind spinning as a searing heat lit up her skin.
As the people around them began to drift away, Flora realised that the song had ended, and very slowly they drew apart. But Mac kept a firm hold of her hand, unwilling as she was to let go. The DJ’s sudden shout interrupted them, and a new track came booming through the speakers, blaring around the ballroom.
‘You all know the groom’s legendary taste in music, so once we’ve got this nonsense out of the way, we’ll be onto the good stuff, starting with classic Stone Roses. Everybody – up on the dance floor and find a partner, preferably a stranger or at least somebody you’ve never danced with before.’
Carefully, Flora tried to prise her fingers from Mac’s as she turned away, ready to go and sit down.
‘Oh no, you don’t.’ Mac gently pulled her back, still holding her hand as the floor filled up around them. ‘You’re going to stay and dance with me again.’
Her voice was incredulous as she raised it above the din. ‘You’re not serious? Dance to this?’ She recognised the implacable look on his face, and then they were jostled together as almost all the guests hurried up to get the party really started to The Nolans’ ‘I’m in the Mood for Dancing’.
He nodded, giving her a wicked grin as he started to dance, looking scarily like an extra from Saturday Night Fever but with better clothes, and Flora laughed. She tapped her feet, watching Mac in amazement as he danced wholly unselfconsciously, throwing himself into a disco routine. It would’ve looked desperate if he hadn’t been so good: he was perfectly in time with the music and she couldn’t have been more astonished if John Travolta had suddenly been parachuted in to take over. But then he reached for her hand and she was dancing with him, still enjoying every moment, as people crashed into them and spun away again.
Mac’s performance was attracting attention and the crowd parted to form a circle around them. Before long Mel, Harry, Sophie and Eddie eagerly joined in. Sophie hadn’t been a teenage dance champion for nothing, so when she cranked up the disco routine with expert moves, Mac copied her and everybody else could hardly stand, let alone dance, for laughing – it was so funny and brilliant. Once the track ended and another one began, Flora found she couldn’t bear to leave the floor or look away when her eyes met Mac’s. It was all such fun and Flora couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so silly or enjoyed herself so much.
They managed another forty minutes or so, until Flora laughingly pleaded for a break and rushed to the bar, hurriedly finishing a glass of water. Mac was keeping his promise to dance with her all evening and she was loving every moment. She strolled back through the room, her eyes eagerly searching for him, impatient to dance again. Given his height, he shouldn’t have been difficult to spot, but there was no sign of him, and she wandered onto the terrace, casually seeking him out.
He was standing on the far side, his back to her, phone clamped to his ear. She waited, safely out of earshot and therefore not feeling as though she was prying. A few smokers were nearby, and she nodded at them. Her gaze settled on Mac again, and she recognised the tension in his frame as the call continued, one arm gesturing to make a point to a person who couldn’t see him, the other running through his hair. She was missing him, loath as she was to admit it, and she waited for another minute, still in the shadows.
She saw him turn and begin to walk across the terrace, and she heard his voice – resigned, fraught – as he ended the call and rammed the phone in a pocket. Flora slipped out of the shadows and moved inside, worried that he might think she had been trying to listen on purpose. She was chatting with another guest when Mac approached her, the tension she had recognised outdoors all but gone. He excused himself for interrupting, reached for her hand and they were back on the dance floor, the call seemingly forgotten.
As the party progressed, the evening flew away into the next morning all too quickly, and just after midnight, Mac took her hand and led her outside. They huddled in the light beneath the portico, facing one another without touching. She was horrified to realise that she might cry again, as she knew this moment would be a goodbye. She had long since kicked off her heels and had to lift her head to meet his eyes. She knew at once that he had withdrawn from her, had distanced himself to somewhere she could no longer reach him. The coolness was back, though she was surprised by the regret in his voice as he spoke.
‘I have to go.’ There was a suggestion of curtness in his tone, too, and Flora was very still.
‘Of course.’ She nodded coolly, clenching her hands into fists and determined not to give away her reluctance to say goodbye. ‘Thank you for coming.’
Mac smiled then and she saw his face soften. ‘So polite,’ he said quietly. ‘You make it sound like it was a business arrangement. Was it really nothing more?’
Flora didn’t answer, in case she revealed the truth: how she’d loved every minute of the day with him and her regret that it was already over. She tried to slow down her racing pulse, wondering when – if – they might see one another again. Better this way, her mind tried to tell her heart. Better this way. Say goodbye. Watch him leave.
‘Flora?’
He reached out and she felt the warmth of his hand on her bare arm, stroking her skin almost without thinking. He brushed his mouth against her cheek, and it was very different from the quick, impersonal kiss earlier in the day, when he had greeted her at the church. Flora was hardly aware that she had turned her head, but then his lips found her mouth and they were finally sharing the kiss she had been longing for.
She had known it would be like this. Her hands were already on his shoulders, urging him nearer, exploring the hard smoothness of the muscles beneath his shirt as he silenced every doubt with his mouth, offering a certainty and skill she had never before known. He pulled her closer still and she arched into him, until he was holding her tight against the hard length of his body. One hand was already exploring the curves outlined by the thin satin of her dress, while the other was on her neck and moved higher, until his fingers were in her hair, trying to loosen the pins that held it.
Somebody coughed behind him. She heard feet on the gravel and, abruptly, Mac let her go. His arms fell away, and Flora opened her eyes hurriedly, stunned by his absence. She was suddenly cold and trembling all over, and she stepped backwards sharply, grateful for the stone column of the portico steadying her.
‘I have to go,’ he muttered hoarsely, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned away. Flora heard the uneven rasp of his voice and she was in no doubt that their kiss had affected him, too. She stared at him through the dim light from the house, hardly able to comprehend the words he tossed back over his shoulder.
‘I’m sorry, Flora, I do have to leave now. Please will you say goodbye for me?’
She watched, astonished and hesitant, as he strode away into the shadows without looking back. She heard the sharp crunch of his feet on the gravel and a quick beep as the car was unlocked. The noise and laughter from the party seemed so incongruous, as she tried to process what had suddenly occurred between them. A kiss like that… surely it was a beginning, not a final farewell?
‘Mac,’ she called tentatively, her voice barely rising above a whisper as she took a step forward. He gave no sign of having heard her, and she saw the flash of lights as his car hurtled down the drive and then he was gone, leaving chaos and questions scattered in his wake.