Page 17 of Going Overboard

‘That’s cousin Caroline?’ I check. ‘She keeps staring at me. I wasn’t expecting to see her here.’

‘Well, she’s here with her new boyfriend – Owen,’ Kelsey says, raising her eyebrows for effect.

Owen is one of Neil’s friends. Now that is dating too close to home – letting a member of your family date one of your friends. Imagine trying to consciously uncouple that one.

‘She’s very proud to be “no longer single”,’ Kelsey tells me with a look that says it all. ‘I’m sure she wants to tell you alllll about it.’

Caroline is one of those people who always finds the wrong thing to say in every scenario. She’s sure that she’s right – even if she changes her mind, which is a spectacular skill when you think about it. She’s also one of those people who makes herself feel better by making other people feel worse, because apparently the best way to detract from your own insecurities is to highlight someone else’s – and if they don’t have any, don’t worry, they will by the time Caroline is done.

Finally everyone starts shuffling towards their tables, finding their seats, and as the crowd clears I’m finally able to pick Todd out again – but he’s not alone.

He’s got a woman with him – a petite brunette bombshell. The kind of girl they whip out onLove Islandto make all of the female islanders sweat. I know what you’re thinking, maybe she just happens to be walking in next to him, maybe they’re just friends – no, no, no. For the avoidance of doubt they are holding hands. The message they are sending is loud and clear. They’re a couple.

It’s been two fucking weeks.

‘Wow,’ Kelsey blurts, following my line of sight. ‘Talk about moving on fast.’

‘That’s Brody’s ex, Nikki,’ Neil tells me, one eyebrow raised.

‘Wait, who’s Brody again?’ I ask – not that it matters who she used to be with because she’s with Todd now, clearly.

‘My mate Brody,’ Neil replies. ‘You must have met him!’

‘Oh. Maybe.’ I pause. Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. It’s hard to care right now – I can’t even think straight. ‘Okay, so we really – as a group – need to start dating outside our friendship circle.’

I sigh, my eyes fixated on them as he gives her a playful twirl on the dance floor.

‘It wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t parading her around like a trophy,’ Kelsey adds. ‘Brody’s hot. Todd is… well, yeah, no offence, but he’s just Todd. No offence to either of you.’

‘Some taken,’ I say with as much of a laugh as I can muster right now.

‘I’m not offended, Brody is my hottest friend,’ Neil jokes – maybe half jokes.

‘Anyway, it’s fine, because me and Todd are over, and so what if he moves on today or next month or next year – we’re done, and I’m fine,’ I insist.

‘Is it really fine?’ Kelsey checks, sounding like she doesn’t quite believe me, and very obviously reading my mind.

‘Absolutely, all good, he’s over me, I’m over him, he’s moving on – I’ll move on too,’ I rant.

‘I could introduce you to some of my single mates,’ Neil suggests. ‘A few of them are here today…’

‘Yes, please, I want all of them,’ I say immediately. A little too quickly, perhaps, and it does sound a little bit like I want to get it on with multiple men at this wedding, so maybe I need to watch my phrasing when I’m tipsy and hurt. ‘But first, I think I’ll go get a drink,’ I suggest.

‘Shall I come wi?—’

‘No, no, all good,’ I interrupt Kelsey. ‘Back in a sec.’

I stand up, steadying myself on my heels. I love these shoes – big chunky white pumps with a monster heel, but as a rule I only wear them if I’m not planning on drinking, because it takes just that little bit of extra concentration to stay steady in them. Sober, absolutely fine, tipsy like I am now is asking for trouble. Drunk… being drunk in these shoes is like turning up to your job drunk – if your job is an acrobat at the circus.

I skulk around the edge of the marquee like a crab, walking sideways so I can keep an eye on the room, making sure Todd doesn’t spot me, because the last thing I want is to meet his new bird. I’m not mentally prepared for that, not today, the rug has been fully pulled. I need a minute – and a drink – to compose myself.

When I reach the bar, I grip it like it might run away if I don’t.

‘What’s the strongest drink you’ve got?’ I ask the barman.

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t hesitate.

‘A Yorkshire Rose,’ he replies, grinning. ‘If you have two of them.’

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