‘This floor totally is awesome, Quinn.’ As he twirls me around, I put my mouth close to his ear and yell to be heard over the pulsing beat. Multi-coloured lights are flashing under our feet as we dance. I’m the first to admit I was sniffy about the whole idea, but in the end it’s phenomenal. Dancing on a floor that changes colour with the music is awesome, even if it does make my head spin. As for Quinn’s choice of track, great as it is to dance to, ‘I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll’ seems like another of Quinn’s digs at Alice. But knowing Alice she’ll get him back for it.
Despite what Quinn said about first dances, it’s now way past midnight. Before that we were too busy. Johnny and I volunteered for cake slicing and distribution – a good move, given how yummy Poppy’s cake is. That’s the thing about having a hundred and fifty people around for the weekend. There’s always a job to do or someone needing help. We had endless chairs to shift around, my mum lost her glasses, then her camera. I lost count of how many group hugs I took pictures of.
As for Quinn, the way he’s spinning me around now, we could be on Strictly Come Dancing. And our first dance has sprawled into more. So long as I relax and move with him, it’s like he’s doing the dancing for both of us. By the end of the track, I’m throwing off my cardi, wiping the sweat off my forehead and wishing I hadn’t kept my shorts on under my dress after all.
‘There’s nothing like a light show under your feet.’ Quinn grins.
One more question before I disentangle myself from his hand and head off to get my breath back. I’m back shouting in his ear again for this. ‘How come you dance so well?’
He grins and dips to my ear. ‘It’s a great way to stay fit – when I’m away from the beach that is.’
And I’m sure it doesn’t do him any harm with the women either. Anyone who can dance like that will never be short of partners.
‘Thanks anyway,’ I yell, and begin to back off the floor.
‘No, you can’t leave now, Sera. The fun’s hardly started.’ There’s the hint of a whine as he tugs at my wrist. As he pulls me towards him, the floor throbs from purple to red, then progresses to flashing black-and-white zig zags. ‘Whatever happened to dancing the night away? Then tomorrow we’ll hit the beach first thing, for a Christmas-morning swim.’
‘Excuse me?’ Much as I love the beach, I’d planned to spend the morning catching up on sleep, maybe having an Alice-type soak, in time to emerge for a huge Christmas lunch at three. Breaking the ice on the sea doesn’t exactly fit in with my plans. Nor does sliding seamlessly from night to morning. What’s more, he’s definitely skipped over the bit where I go back to my room. On my own.
‘If you insist on sitting down, I’ll come with you.’ The way his arm slides over my shoulder and guides me off the dance floor and across the ballroom towards the drinks, it could be just another slinky salsa move. Except it stays there. ‘We’ll grab some cocktails and find a sofa to sink into.’
Downing cocktails is not exactly top of my wish list for tonight. Especially not with Quinn. As for us sinking into a sofa together, that’s pretty much top of my ‘not to do’ list.
Not that I’m going chasing after Johnny, but I scan every last corner for him, just in case he’s arrived, so I can make my escape from Quinn. I spot Sophie in the kind of clinch I wouldn’t be interrupting, and Hetty chasing after a waiter. ‘Or maybe we should dance again?’ Given Quinn’s become as clingy as a limpet, it’s my safest bet.
‘Great plan, but let’s get those cocktails first.’
The colourful mix of glasses, fruit, bottles, ice buckets and cocktail shakers on the table he steers me towards could have come from a magazine picture. Despite it being midnight, the guy behind the table is still pristine in his white shirt and bow tie. He smiles. ‘What can I get you?’
I’m eyeing the array of drinks on offer, working out if a Diet Pepsi and ice is even possible, but Quinn gets there before me.
‘Two large mojitos, please.’ He sends me a grin as the waiter begins to pour. ‘Handmade, these are something else.’
A few minutes later a frosted tumbler arrives in my hand. Pushing the mint sprig to one side, I pop the straw in my mouth and take a sip. ‘Fab.’ I send Quinn a nod of appreciation for getting this so right. ‘It’s tart but not sour, deliciously limey and minty.’ Once I begin to suck, I’m so parched from the dancing, it practically goes down in one.
‘That’s my girl.’ He raises his eyebrows as he puts his empty glass back on the table. ‘Not so much like Alice after all, then.’
In seconds we’re back on the dance floor again. And that’s how it goes. Cocktails, dancing, cocktails, dancing. At some point I must have lost the kitten-heeled boots, although I can’t remember where, or when. But a whole lot later, when I accidentally step on Quinn’s foot, my feet are bare. I’m vaguely wobbly, but I don’t actually give a damn about randomly bumping into people, because somehow I’ve arrived at a happy place, where I actually want to hug the whole world. Even Quinn. Although I’m still not quite drunk enough to think that’s a good idea.
I lean in to Quinn as yet another Christmas song ends. ‘There’s not so many dancing people now – I mean people dancing.’ It may be a good thing it’s less crowded if I’m trampling people.
‘Leaving a party at two?’ As he tilts his forehead to touch mine, mine is so sweaty we stick. ‘They must be lightweights.’ He takes hold of my hand again. ‘Let’s have another drink.’ Which has to be Quinn’s most-used phrase of the day.
We leave the flashing floor, but I’m barely noticing the colours any more. As the piano notes of the next track come through the speaker stacks, there’s a sudden rush towards the dance floor, as everyone recognises the song. Then there’s a tap on my shoulder and I look around. ‘Johnny, where have you been? I was looking for you.’ Somehow I’ve missed him before, but he’s here now. And letting him know how hard I’ve been looking for him is probably down to the cocktails. But right now I’m not sure I care who knows.
He’s eyeing Quinn levelly. ‘I think this one’s mine, Quinn.’
For a second Quinn looks like he’s going to nut him. Then he backs away. ‘Okay, I’ll get our drinks, see you back here in four, Sera.’
The next moment Johnny’s taken my hand and we’re winding our way back into the crush of bodies, as the electric guitar slices into the introduction. And then the drums crash in, and when the lyrics come, deep down I just know… Oasis. ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’.
‘Yay, this is one of my favourite feel-good drunken dancing songs…’ I’m yelling at Johnny as I fall towards him. ‘In the world, ever…’ And suddenly I’m twenty all over again, if not fifteen.
He grabs me around the waist as he catches me. ‘Oasis?’ He’s propping me up with his shoulder, helping me get my balance back. ‘It’s a great song for a last dance.’
I don’t quite get what he means by that, but I don’t care, because the music is making me smile, hugely, just because it always does. Beside us, everyone’s pretty much in the same euphoric cloud as me. As mixes go, you don’t get more heady than pure nostalgia and a free bar. By the time the chorus comes, I’ve got my balance back. I’m waving my hands in the air and shouting at the top of my voice, going totally bonkers, along with everyone else. When we get to the don’t look back in anger line, Johnny and I are shouting it at each other. And the way it means so much to us both is sending shivers shooting all over my scalp.
When it finally goes all quiet and the music fades, I fall against Johnny again and this time my hands land on his shoulders. ‘I’m guessing this is our song.’ I’m filled with this deep-down sadness, which is nothing to do with Johnny and me, and how angry we’ve been with each other for all these years. I’ve momentarily forgotten that. For me it’s the sadness I always get when that song ends, simply because I want it to go on forever. If I was on my own in the studio, I’d flick it straight back to the start and listen to it all over again.
Johnny pulls the corners of his mouth down. ‘I guess you’re right, Fi.’
I shout in his ear. ‘That’s the bloody annoying thing about discos – not being able to get instant replay.’ ‘Merry Christmas Everybody’ is blasting out now. But the feel-good moment is over and my feet are throbbing as hard as the floor.
He gives a shrug, then dips towards me. ‘Alice says it’s your bedtime. Sorry, but she asked me to take you up. Undo your zip, check you’re okay.’ He puts his arm around me to guide me. ‘Or maybe I shouldn’t have told you that?’
‘So that explains the last dance bit?’ I’m furious with Alice for wrecking my fun. ‘Why exactly?’ I’m sticking my chin out.
He gives a shrug. ‘Probably because she saw you falling over and she’s looking out for you.’
I let out a snort of disgust. ‘Thanks for that. I’m not that drunk.’ Considering what I’ve consumed, that is. What’s more, if Alice hasn’t been drinking, everyone will look drunk to her. And if Alice sent the most tactful best man here, I hate to think how the other one would have put it.
‘Fine.’ Now he’s taking my hand and being all conciliatory. ‘If you’re all good we can stay longer? Dance some more?’
But as I sink against the warmth of Johnny’s body, I’m suddenly not minding so much. As for undoing my zip…Whereas Quinn definitely couldn’t be trusted with that job, we both already know Johnny proved he can do that and walk away. He’s one hundred per cent up to the job of seeing me to bed and complying with Alice’s ‘no sex’ rules. Because we both know that’s what he did last time he undid my zip after a party. Despite all my efforts to persuade him otherwise.
I smile up at him. ‘No, I’m ready to go.’
And somehow I can’t wait to see how he’s going to play it this time around.