‘Wiki, wiki.’ Kekipi clapped his hands at the top of the palazzo steps as Amy and I emerged blinking from our Milanese taxi. ‘You’re late. What happened?’
‘We were delayed,’ I said, yawning. I still got excited whenever I flew and I had yet to master the skill of sleeping on a plane. Amy had knocked back two glasses of red wine and gone out like a light, of course. ‘We’re here now.’
Kekipi, Al and Domenico had flown out the day before while Amy and I packed, napped and generally indulged in everything New York City. I was still scared I might never get to return and I was still scared that I might never be able to speak to Nick again.
‘Thank goodness.’ Kekipi linked his arms through ours, me on one side, Amy on the other. ‘I was worried you weren’t coming.’
‘I thought about it,’ I admitted. ‘Has Al said anything about the photo?’
‘Only that it was fantastic,’ he replied. ‘And I believe he has enquired with the gallery regarding its purchase.’
‘Oh my God!’ I looked over at Amy who seemed confused. ‘He wants to buy it so no one else can see it.’
‘Is she always this cynical?’ he asked Amy. She nodded. ‘He wants to buy it because it’s marvellous. Now be quiet and come inside, you have bridesmaiding to do.’
The palazzo was beautiful. It didn’t matter how many times I came through those gates, it still took my breath away every time. The house was impossibly beautiful, with its big gleaming windows and perfect symmetry. The fountain sparkled in the centre of the courtyard, decorated with the same strings of tiny lights I’d seen all over New York. I couldn’t wait to see it all lit up at night. It really was my favourite place in all the world.
‘Are you nervous?’ Amy asked, pushing her giant sunglasses up onto the top of her head. Milan was grey and cloudy but thankfully, not nearly as cold as New York. ‘Twenty-four hours from now you’ll be getting married.’
‘Not at all,’ Kekipi replied, nodding. ‘There’s so much to do.’
‘Such as?’ I asked.
‘Most importantly, my bachelor party,’ he said, leading us up the marble steps and into the foyer. There were flowers everywhere, vases and vases full of winter white roses in full bloom and, in the middle of it all, one of the biggest Christmas trees I had ever seen. Now I knew where Amy had found her inspiration for the presentation. Al’s Milan home was a Christmas dreamland.
‘Of course.’ I grimaced slightly and steeled my liver. ‘Aren’t we cutting it a bit fine, going out the night before the ceremony?’
‘Shut up, Tess,’ Amy ordered. ‘It’s all done, I’ve had it planned for weeks. Just be back down here at six o’clock.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ I said with a salute, receiving a slap around the back of the head for my trouble.
‘And you, Ms Brookes, are expected in Al’s office right about now,’ Kekipi said, squeezing my arm. ‘Then I need you to look at the photographers we’ve hired and make sure they aren’t terrible.’
‘I still wish you’d let me take the photos,’ I scolded, suddenly nervous. ‘You don’t need to pay for a photographer.’
‘Yes, we do,’ he said. ‘You’re going to be far too busy getting drunk and dancing and kissing boys to worry about taking pictures. Don’t argue with me.’
Apart from the vow I’d made to myself to never kiss another boy as long as I lived, it hardly sounded like a bad plan.
‘I’ll see you both back here at six,’ he said with a small bow. ‘I have to go and see a fabulous man about a spectacular dog. Who would have thought getting married was such hard work?’
‘It’ll be Vegas for me,’ Amy said, unfastening her coat and dropping her bag on the floor. I picked it up immediately before Domenico appeared to tell us off. The place was spotless. ‘None of this fannying around.’
‘I lobbied very hard for Hawaii,’ Kekipi said. ‘But no, my husband-to-be is a traditional Catholic boy. So we’re having a non-traditional gay Catholic wedding that won’t really be legal and his church won’t recognize. You know, the way God would want it.’
‘Amen,’ she replied.
‘Dom has put you in your old room. I’ll have your bags sent up and Al is waiting for you,’ he said, letting go of my arm and pulling Amy away down the marble-floored corridor. ‘Don’t get lost!’
‘As if I would get lost,’ I muttered, climbing the stairs to the second floor. ‘What kind of amateur do you think I am?’
‘Sorry,’ I said, opening the door to Al’s office five minutes later. ‘I got lost.’
‘There you are.’ Al stood and held his arms open for a hug. His bare feet and bright pink printed MC Hammer pants didn’t quite match his pale blue shirt, but he looked a million times more like himself than he had in his fancy three-piece suits. ‘I thought you must be due around now.’
Al’s office was one of my favourite rooms in the entire house. Out of all the elegance and grandeur of his Italian home, he had chosen a smart little corner to make his own, with huge windows that filled the space with light and gave him grand, sweeping views of the park opposite the palazzo. You could see right across Milan from his desk and I could have happily lost days there drinking coffee and watching the world go by.
Leaning in, I gave him a small, sideways hug. He smelled like proper gentlemen’s aftershave and Brylcreem. The only thing missing was the smell of the beach in his beard.
‘How was the flight?’ he asked, pouring me a tiny coffee and proving he was definitely a mind reader. ‘Uneventful, I hope?’
‘Amy kicked a man in the back of the head without leaving her seat,’ I said with a shrug. ‘But I think he was more impressed at how flexible she was than annoyed.’
‘Good, good,’ he said. ‘And how are you feeling after the exhibition?’
‘Confused, if I’m honest,’ I told him. ‘I still feel terrible about Amy entering that photograph without telling you first. I shouldn’t have even taken it, I’m sorry.’
‘Tess, that picture was fantastic,’ he said, dropping a sugar cube into his own espresso cup. ‘It showed a rare talent and I would have been very upset if you had let it languish on a laptop for the rest of your days. You must learn to have more confidence in yourself.’
‘I’m trying,’ I said, biting my thumbnail. ‘I just want you to know I feel really awful. I tried to get them to take it down but they wouldn’t.’
‘And rightly so,’ Al said, bushy white eyebrows raised. ‘Tess, it was a brilliant photograph. I was surprised to see it, of course, but that wasn’t why I left. The crowds were a little much for me. You know I don’t care for a lot of attention these days.’
‘I thought you weren’t a recluse?’ I replied, almost smiling. ‘If the picture hadn’t been there, no one would have bothered you.’
‘Regardless.’ He waved away my concern with a tiny silver spoon. ‘We shall agree that the photograph was wonderful and my moment of discomfort was worth it. I apologize if my reaction was a little dramatic. You should be very proud of yourself for that photo, Tess. Anyone can point a camera at something; very few people can capture the feeling behind it. Has the gallery been in touch?’
‘I’m so glad,’ I said, a heavy weight falling from my shoulders. ‘And no; I really was hoping I would have heard something from them by now but nothing. My agent is going to sack me and I don’t know what I’m going to do.’
I gave him a broad cheesy smile to make up for the anxious tone in my voice.
‘So you’re sitting around waiting for someone to come and scoop you up out of the cinders?’ Al asked, a chiding tone to his voice. ‘I thought we’d been over this.’
‘I’m out of ideas.’ I sipped my coffee and pinched my shoulders together. ‘And I haven’t got a fairy godmother as far as I know.’
‘You know, I never much cared for Cinderella,’ he said, tapping the little silver spoon on his saucer. ‘Didn’t have enough gumption for me.’
‘She did marry a prince though,’ I protested. ‘She must have been doing something right.’
‘She never tried to help herself, did she?’ All the creases in his brow furrowed together. ‘As soon as the magic wore off, she hotfooted it back to the kitchen without a second thought. That part I never understood.’
‘I think she was scared,’ I said. ‘Wasn’t that the point?’
‘Why?’ Al asked.
‘I don’t really know,’ I said, uncertain. ‘They were big on beheadings back then?’
‘We’re talking about Cinderella, not Game of Thrones,’ he countered. ‘He had already got down on one knee and professed his love. What stopped her from explaining her situation? Casually mentioning that she wasn’t actually a princess and she could really use a hand. Didn’t she trust him?’
‘Well, he was a bloke,’ I said. ‘No offence.’
‘None taken,’ he replied. ‘There aren’t that many gentlemen around these days, I know, but my point is: how different things could have been for Cinders if she had simply explained her predicament to the prince in the first place. What would have happened if he’d found another girl who had the same size feet?’
‘Well, when you put it like that,’ I said. ‘One minute she’s the love of his life, the next he doesn’t recognize her when she’s staring him in the face.’
‘Precisely,’ Al said. ‘She would still be scrubbing floors if everyone else hadn’t been born with giant clodhoppers. And all because she waited around for someone to save her.’
‘And don’t get me started on the glass slipper,’ I said, my voice excitable. ‘What kind of fairy godmother puts a girl who has spent her entire life barefoot in glass heels? One trip and she slices her foot off.’
‘That’s an excellent point,’ he said, tapping his fingertips on the desk. ‘But we’re going a little off topic.’
‘She doesn’t even try to get the shoe back,’ I interrupted. ‘Someone leant her that shoe in good faith and she didn’t even go back for it. That’s shocking.’
‘Again, off topic,’ Al sighed. ‘Since I met you, I’ve watched you fight for the things you want and made them happen. Surely you’re not going to give up now?’
‘I have considered eating a lot of biscuits,’ I replied. ‘That seemed relatively proactive since everyone now thinks I can’t take a photo to save my life.’
He gave me a look. ‘I don’t think that’s quite true, is it?’
‘No, really,’ I said. ‘That’s what that man said to me at the gallery.’
‘And he represents everyone in the world, does he?’
‘Not everyone,’ I replied. ‘But a lot of them.’
Al nodded slowly, thinking.
‘I really wanted people to like my photo,’ I said, looking down at my feet. ‘I wanted to prove to everyone that I could do it. I wanted to prove I’m good.’
‘And who is it that thinks you have anything to prove in the first place?’ he asked.
I didn’t answer. But I did take two of the cookies from his desk and shoved them both into my mouth at the same time.
‘All right, then, if this is so important, what can you do to change this man’s mind?’ he asked. ‘How do we get into his good graces?’
‘I know what my old flatmate did and I’m definitely not doing that,’ I said, pulling a face.
‘I can only imagine.’ Al gave a gentle shudder. ‘But you have to do something, Tess. You’ve come so far.’
He was right and I knew it. But I wasn’t used to it being so hard to show you could do something well. I felt a flicker of regret for my old job and the untold joys of PowerPoint.
‘You’re someone who holds herself to a very high standard,’ he said. ‘It might be that you can’t change their minds but you won’t know if you don’t try.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I promised. ‘I’ll think of something.’
‘Good,’ he said, standing up and rifling through a rack of dresses behind him. ‘Now tell me, how do we feel about white?’
He held up a long, off-white dress, all fluttering silk skirts and narrow straps.
‘We feel strongly,’ I said, transfixed, as he wafted it around on the hanger. ‘Is this for next season?’
‘Perhaps.’ Al held the dress out. ‘But for now, it’s for you.’
‘No way!’ I gasped. ‘Al, it’s gorgeous.’
‘You were right,’ he said, smiling. ‘When you told me making dresses was a worthwhile thing to do. The look on your face right now is priceless.’
‘Wait until you show Amy,’ I told him. ‘She’s going to die.’
‘As long as she doesn’t die before the wedding,’ he warned. ‘Domenico has spent hours on the seating plan. I fear he would bring her back to life just to kill her again.’
‘And there was me thinking Kekipi was going to be the bridezilla,’ I said, still wafting the dress around in the breeze from the window.
‘Did you imagine for a second that Kekipi wasn’t going to have the most beautiful bridesmaids the world has ever seen?’ he asked. ‘Designed by me as per his very specific instructions. Although the skirt doesn’t pull away to leave a bodysuit as originally requested – but since Domenico nixed the choreographed dance number in the reception, I think we’ll all get by.’
‘Am I allowed to wear white?’ I asked, allowing just the very tips of my fingers to trace the delicate fabric. ‘When it isn’t my wedding?’
‘I don’t think you’ll be upstaging the bride,’ he replied. ‘Trust me.’
‘Brave, brave Domenico,’ I laughed, draping the dress over my arm as I waved my way out of his office. Al was right, I couldn’t sit around waiting for my fairy-tale ending. It was only midday, I had a whole afternoon until the stag do and unless I wanted to lose Agent Veronica, I had some work to get on with.
‘And so I says to him, Brian, I says, no one’s interested, put it away.’ Amy sloshed white wine all over her hand as she spoke. ‘It’s not as though there’s anything to see anyway.’
With her mouth wide open, she guided her face towards her glass, attempting to hoover up her drink before she spilled the rest of it.
‘It’s sad when small penises happen to good people,’ Kekipi said, raising his glass with a sombre face. ‘To Brian.’
‘To Brian,’ Amy and I chorused, Amy throwing back her drink, me bringing it to my lips and then setting it back on the table without taking a sip. A bottle of vodka, a bottle of limoncello and three bottles of white wine, all of them open and none of them empty, sat between us.
It was already eleven and the three of us were safely ensconced in the corner of a bar somewhere in the Navigli where Kekipi assured us the bartender was understanding and the drinks were cheap and strong. Al had dined and run, pleading old age and leaving his credit card behind the bar, disappearing with a promise of a car coming to collect us dead on the dot of midnight. I did not like the chances of all three of us getting in that car.
‘Where did you even get those?’ I asked Amy as Kekipi attempted to slap me in the face with a penis-adorned deely bopper.
‘I am a woman of many talents,’ she replied. Kekipi had bluntly refused to wear both the headband and the bride-to-be sash at dinner but was now sporting them both with pride. ‘Where were you all afternoon anyway?’
‘Working,’ I said. Amy was wearing a dress that looked like the stripper version of my gown from the AJB presentation and I felt woefully underdressed in my skinny jeans and backless black jumper. ‘Tell us more about Brian.’
‘Circumcized,’ she replied.
‘I can’t believe I’m resigning myself to one penis for the rest of my days,’ Kekipi said, raising his sticky-looking shot high above his head. ‘Whatever have I become?’
‘I think you talk a good game,’ I said, picking up my glass, waiting for the two of them to neck theirs and then throwing it in the plant plot by the side of me. ‘But you love it really.’
Kekipi screwed up his face as he swallowed the stiff liquor. ‘I’m still in single figures,’ he confessed. ‘Tell anyone and I’ll hunt you down and kill you like a dog.’
‘Kill me like a dog or hunt me like a dog?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, pouring out another drink. ‘I’m drunk.’
‘Room for a little one?’
I looked up to see Paige beside our table, a smile on her face and the same penis deely boppers as Amy was wearing on her head.
‘Darling!’ Kekipi threw himself into her arms and dragged her down to the table while Amy spilled vodka into four shot glasses. ‘You made it.’
‘The flight was delayed,’ she said, quickly knocking back her shot and shivering. ‘I’m sorry I missed dinner.’
‘You’re here now,’ Amy slurred. ‘I haven’t seen you in so long. You look amazing.’
‘You really do,’ I said, trying to work out what she had done differently. ‘Did you get extensions?’
‘No.’ She pulled her long blonde hair over her shoulder and smoothed it down. ‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘Fake tan?’ Kekipi suggested. ‘Eyelash extensions? Teeth whitening? Vagina facial?’
‘Is that a thing?’ I asked.
‘It’s a thing,’ Amy and Paige replied.
‘There’s a place in New York where you can get it steamed,’ Amy said, sipping her vodka. ‘Just asking for thrush.’
‘I tried to get drunk on the plane so I wouldn’t have to catch up but it was easyJet and the drinks were extortionate,’ Paige said, filling up her own glass and throwing it back. ‘I didn’t want to get kicked off – I’m not Kate Moss. How come you’re so sober?’
‘Me?’ I picked up my wine glass and laughed. ‘Three sheets to the wind, trust me. Wasted. We’ve been drinking forever.’
Amy and Kekipi zeroed in on me with slightly wobbly expressions.
‘You’re not drunk,’ Amy said, pointing at me with a shot glass. ‘Why aren’t you drunk?’
‘I’ve been working on my tolerance,’ I replied, sipping my warm white wine. ‘I’m just not as drunk as you so you can’t tell.’
‘I hate people who bully their friends into drinking when they don’t want to,’ Kekipi said, mixing Lemon Drop shots in a pint glass and then distributing them to each of us. ‘I think that’s why I’ve spent so much time in therapy. Drink.’
‘I really don’t think it’s a good idea,’ I said, reluctantly accepting the sticky shot glass. ‘You both know I’m a bad drunk. I don’t want to be hungover for the wedding.’
‘It’s my bachelor party,’ Kekipi insisted, attracting the attention of every other person in the bar. ‘Drink the drink, Brookes.’
‘Fine, I’ll do one,’ I said, staring at the shot, my gag reflex kicking in before I’d even sniffed it. ‘And that’s it.’
‘Yeah,’ Amy clinked her glass against Paige’s. ‘Just the one.’
‘Cheers,’ Paige said. ‘To Kekipi’s last night of freedom and Tess’s hangover.’
‘Cheers,’ I replied before throwing back the drink. ‘Although I’m not going to get drunk so I’m not going to have a hangover. So there.’
‘I mean, first he doesn’t want me then he does, then he doesn’t, then he’s sending letters. Who sends letters?’ I swiped my hand across the table, knocking the empty bottle of vodka with it. ‘I don’t understand. Pick up the bleeding phone, Miller.’
‘He’s a shit,’ Amy said, rubbing at her eye and smearing her bright blue eyeliner until she looked like a 1970s David Bowie. ‘A shitty shit shit, that’s what he is.’
‘He really isn’t worth the energy,’ Paige agreed. ‘You’re better off without him.’
‘I don’t care.’ I had tried and tried and tried to get my head around it. Filling said head with vodka wasn’t making it any clearer. ‘Not at all. I’m so over him.’
‘Of course you are, love,’ Kekipi said. ‘That’s why we’re still talking about him. Who brought him up in the first place, anyway?’
Paige and Amy both pointed at me across the table.
‘I wish I was a bloke,’ I said, sweeping my arm across the table. ‘Then I could just forget about the whole thing and move on.
‘I think you’d feel better if you did sex on someone,’ Amy said, her head popping up and scanning the busy bar. ‘Let’s find you a sex person.’
‘I think I’d feel better if I had a kebab,’ I argued. ‘Where’s the closest place I can get a kebab?’
‘Basingstoke.’ Paige shook the limoncello bottle but it was completely empty. ‘We’re dry.’
‘On it,’ Amy grunted, standing up and yelling to the barman, ‘Another bottle for the table and a new shag for Tess.’
‘Have you spoken to Charlie?’ Kekipi asked. I stuck out my tongue and grabbed Amy’s wine glass from across the table. ‘You still haven’t replied to his note?’
‘I texted him to say thank you for the presents,’ I sighed, my topknot collapsing around my face. ‘I don’t think that counts.’
‘What note?’ Paige asked. ‘Charlie sent you a note?’
‘And a care package and a shit camera case or something,’ Amy nodded, as the lights got lower and the music got louder. ‘He decided to declare his undying love. Oh, and offered her a job. It was all very unprofessional. If he had HR, they’d have a field day.’
‘Really?’ Paige asked, jolting backwards as her eyes shot wide open. ‘He told you he still loves you?’
I nodded. ‘Amy’s got the note.’
‘She’s not allowed it,’ Amy confirmed. ‘I am the keeper of the note.’
Paige pulled her phone out of her pocket and stood up, dark, wet stains all over her short grey sweater dress. We were messy drunks. ‘I’ll be right back,’ she said, waving the phone in our general direction.
‘OK, it’s nearly midnight,’ Kekipi said, watching while Amy struggled to open the bottle of vodka, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth. ‘And we haven’t danced at all.’
‘I need a wee,’ I said, standing on shaky legs. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘We’ll be on the dance floor,’ Amy called, taking Kekipi by the hand and dragging him across the room, pushing tables out of the way and moving back and forth on a nonexistent dance floor, completely out of time with the music.
‘Scusi,’ I mumbled, bumping into a mirror on my way across the bar and trying the toilet door. Locked.
‘You’re drunk,’ I told my reflection as I fished my phone out of my bag. ‘Shame on you.’
With one more disgusted look in the mirror, I wiped my face with the sleeve of my sweater and looked around for another toilet. I tiptoed through the little tables, smiling and waving at the other patrons until I pushed open a door and found myself outside.
‘This isn’t the toilet,’ I announced.
‘It really isn’t,’ a tall, copper-haired man replied, striding towards me across the piazza.
‘Charlie!’ I slapped my friend in the chest and laughed. ‘What are you doing here? Wait, you are here, aren’t you?’
‘Good God, you’re drunk,’ he said, smiling his crooked, bright-eyed smile. ‘Yes, Tess, I’m here.’
‘You’re here,’ I said, dropping my head onto his chest and breathing in his total Charlie-ness. ‘Why?’
‘For the wedding,’ he replied, grabbing hold of my wrists as I stumbled backwards into a gaggle of Italian smokers. ‘Paige invited me—’
‘Scusi,’ I said, very loudly before turning back to Charlie with a look of pride. ‘I speak Italian now. Paige invited you? To the wedding?’
‘Yes, and technically, I think you did too but you didn’t have an official plus one like she did,’ he nodded, offering the smokers an apologetic smile. ‘Are you OK? Should we call you a taxi?’
‘I’m fine,’ I promised, swiping my hair out of my face and poking myself in the eye. ‘I get it. Paige invited you because she hates Nick but it’s not going to work, is it?’
‘What isn’t going to work?’ he asked, looking around for back-up.
‘Me and you,’ I whispered. ‘I know you love me but I don’t feel that way any more and I’m really sorry.’
‘What are you talking about?’ he asked, a puzzled smile on his face. ‘Is this why you didn’t reply to my Christmas card? You thought I was making a move?’
‘I might be slightly tipsy right now but the note was pretty clear.’ I slapped his chest. ‘There aren’t that many ways to interpret “I love you”, are there?’
Charlie pushed my shoulders upright as I began to stagger forwards.
‘Tess, I really don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said. ‘Of course I love you, as a friend – but I thought we’d cleared all the other stuff up?’
‘I do love you, just not like that,’ I went on, reaching out to stroke his face but accidentally slapping it instead. ‘Although Amy says the best way to get over Nick is to get under a sexing. Or something.’
‘I don’t think that’s exactly what she said,’ Charlie replied. ‘Where is Amy? Can you stand up on your own if I go in and find her? Have you seen Paige?’
‘We’ve totally done it before,’ I whispered with an elaborate wink. ‘We should just do it again. As long as we agree that it doesn’t mean anything and that it’s just sexing, we should totally do sex.’
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ he said with a laugh as I lurched towards him with my arms outstretched. ‘You’re very drunk, Tess. You’re more drunk than you were at the graduation ball.’
‘I wanted to have sex with you then as well,’ I said, kissing his ear. ‘But you didn’t even notice. Look, mistletoe!’
‘Where?’ Charlie looked up and I launched myself on him.
‘There isn’t any,’ I replied. ‘Shhh.’
‘Tess, pack it in,’ Charlie tried to unravel himself from my arms as I smothered his cheek in kisses. ‘I mean it.’
‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ I grabbed hold of his face and looked him in the eye. ‘You’re my Charlie.’
Leaning in, I touched my lips to his. He resisted but wasn’t this what everyone kept telling me? I was Tess Brookes, I didn’t give up without a fight. Especially not when I’d had a couple.
‘Oh.’
Charlie broke away, pushing me gently backwards, keeping a tight grip on my wrists. I blinked and followed his gaze to see Paige in the doorway of the bar, her phone in her hand and a devastated look on her face.
‘Oh no,’ I gasped. ‘Are they out of limoncello?’
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Didn’t mean to interrupt.’
‘Paige!’ Charlie let go of my hands as though they were on fire and I immediately crumpled to the ground.
‘I’m going back to the house,’ Paige said with a decisive sniff. ‘I suggest you find a hotel.’
‘Shit.’ Charlie looked at Paige, then down at me. He grabbed me round the waist and hoisted me to my feet. ‘Paige, she’s drunk, it‘s nothing.’
‘It’s nothing,’ I agreed. ‘Wait, what’s going on?’
‘Just stay here.’ Charlie deposited me on a cold metal chair and pressed his hands on my knees. ‘And don’t move.’
Running his hands through his hair and straightening his collar, he ran across the piazza to where Paige had stalked off and was arguing with a taxi driver. I looked up to see an old man in the seat beside me, a rolled-up cigarette frozen in midair in front of his face.
‘Buongiorno,’ I said, nodding.
‘Buonasera,’ he replied, licking the cigarette paper.
‘No,’ I shook my head and prodded myself in the chest. ‘Tess. Not Sarah.’
‘What is going on out here?’
Kekipi and Amy barrelled out of the bar, clinging to the doorframe as they spotted me.
‘Paige and Charlie are arguing,’ I said. ‘And I made a new friend,’ I added, patting my table neighbour on the shoulder.
‘Why are they arguing?’ Kekipi asked. ‘Do they even know each other?’
‘Why is Charlie here?’ Amy asked. ‘Oi, cockwomble!’
‘That doesn’t look much like arguing to me,’ Kekipi grabbed hold of my shoulder. ‘Are they kissing?’
‘Noooo,’ I said, rising to my feet and struggling to focus on what was happening. Charlie and Paige were face to face and well, it did look a bit like they might be kissing but they couldn’t be, could they? ‘Amy, why is Charlie kissing Paige?’
‘Oi, cockwomble,’ she bellowed across the piazza. ‘Why are you kissing Paige?’
I watched as the two of them walked back towards us.
They were holding hands.
‘I wanted to talk to you about this,’ Charlie started. ‘Before.’
They were holding hands.
‘But I didn’t really know how.’
‘Nothing’s really happened,’ Paige added, her head ducked low, her face sheepish. ‘Not really. We both wanted to talk to you first, that’s why he’s here. Tess, are you OK?’
They were holding hands. Paige and Charlie were holding hands.
‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ I replied, flushing hot and cold from head to toe.
‘Me too,’ Amy said pointing at Paige. ‘This is gross, you can do better.’
‘No, really.’ I spun around and fell to my knees, one hand in my hair, the other propping me up against the wall of the bar as I threw up half a bottle of vodka into a Milanese gutter.
‘Now it’s a proper bachelor party,’ Kekipi declared joyfully. ‘Congratulations me!’