Page 42 of Love at First Sight

‘Right,’ I say.

‘Yeah.’

And on it goes, until eventually I’m almost asleep and I have to say goodbye. I don’t want to, but I do.

16

‘That’s weird,’ India says, as we walk arm-in-arm down Oxford Street. ‘Falling asleep on the phone together? I’m sorry, but we can’t just gloss over that as normal behaviour. That’s … romantic.’

‘Notasleep,’ I say. ‘Almost asleep.’

‘Because that makes a difference?’

I look at her, pulling a face.

‘My point still stands …’ she says. ‘It’s weird.’

I start mentally reliving the other night, turning it over in my mind to list all the ways, again, that it overstepped the mark. But also, technically … didn’t.

India tugs on my arm in a way that tells me to stop, so I laugh and shake my head and change the subject. I focus on the task at hand: dress shopping for Dad’s wedding. Have I spoken to him yet? No, because I’m a coward. But the wedding is fast approaching, the date having been set before the engagement party. If I thought that was fancy, the reception is going to be at Claridge’s. Claridge’s!

‘What’s the budget today?’ India asks, as we loiter outside of H&M. ‘I like that dress. The yellow one.’ She points at a balloon-sleeved wrap dress that comes down to the knee.

‘Yeah, that’s cute,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to spend a fortune on a dress for a wedding I don’t even want to go to, but I always worry if you shop high-street somebody else will show up wearing the same.’

‘That’s happened to me twice, to be fair,’ India says, walking on. ‘I mean, obviously I wore it better on both occasions, but neither of those was my own father’s wedding. You need something unique for that.’

‘So … vintage?’ I ask. India considers this.

‘Let’s try the place near Liberty. If that doesn’t work, we’ll come back and do Selfridges, even if it’s just for inspiration. The thing is, we can’t assume we’ll hit gold today, on the first try. Occasion dressing, man, it can takeweeks.’

India is so terribly dramatic this way – for a woman so marvellously spontaneous she can also spend eight to twelve months planning what to wear for the Christmas party season.

‘I submit to your higher wisdom,’ I say.

‘Good girl,’ she replies.

Whilst I don’t love shopping, moseying around town with my best friend and stopping for coffees and green juices every forty-five minutes really isn’t a bad way to spend the eight hours that Henry is at school. He’s on a school trip today, so that’s bought me an extra couple of hours, to truly make sure no dress within a two-mile radius of the centre of town goes unassessed by my self-declared stylist.

‘Do you think I can get a plus-one for the reception?’India asks, because whilst she hasn’t been invited to the wedding itself, I insisted on her getting an invite to the party afterwards. When Dad was speaking to me, that is. It’s crazy, having gone this long without being in touch with him. I don’t like it at all, but it is taking me some time to gather my courage.

‘And leave me solo?!’ I say. ‘How dare you!’

‘I think you’ll end up bringing Leo,’ she says.

‘Do you now. That’s a bit left-field.’

‘Not really.’ She shrugs. ‘I have a feeling about him.’

‘Doyouwant his number?’ I say, half joking.

‘Things are going quite well with Lola actually,’ she says, sheepishly. ‘So I’m good.’

‘Well, I’m ready for details whenever you’re ready to give ’em, babe,’ I tell her. ‘I swear that’s why you like to talk about my love life … so I don’t go prying into yours. Bring her, if you want. I don’t want you shagging any of Simone’s friends at the reception.’ I wag a finger. ‘We want absolutely minimal overlap with that woman. If you ended up in love with her BFF and I had to see her attwicethe number of life events from here on out, I would have to choose my sanity over our friendship.’

‘I’m quite sure I could never fancy anybody who deems that woman a net positive in their life,’ India says, matter-of-factly. God, I love her. ‘Your uncle though? He’s fair game.’

‘If you want to hook up with Uncle Shawn, you go right ahead,’ I say, giggling.

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