Page 65 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually
It then became time for that dreadful wedding tradition—when as a guest you have to congratulate all the immediatefamily of the bride and groom and say things like, “You must be very proud” or “You look lovely in that dress.” (I’ve always found that particular one is best saved for female members of the wedding party—unless of course you go to much more forward-thinking weddings than I do.)
But today in my role as chief bridesmaid I found myself in the unusual position of being on the receiving end of the comments. Unfortunately, by the time most of the guests got to me they’d run out of things to say—so I got thirty-five “You look lovely,” eleven “Purple really suits you,” eight “You did a fine job,” two “Are you Maddie’s sister?” and one “Do you know where the toilet is, dear?”
As the line got ever shorter, I noticed Sean slowly moving along it in my direction.
“Having fun?” He grinned when he arrived opposite me.
“I will be just as soon as this damn line-up is over with,” I said, still managing to talk through the fixed smile that constantly remained glued to my face.
Sean leaned toward me. “You look stunning, Scarlett,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll try and catch up with you later on—I might have some news for you by then.” Quickly he kissed my cheek and moved along to a waitress holding a tray of champagne.
“Sean, wait…” I called after him, but he’d already sauntered off into the ever-growing throng of guests.
What sort of news?
I thanked the next two people who said I’d done a good job and then I realized it was David standing in front of me.
“Great job, darling,” he said. “You looked lovely—purple really suits you.”
“Thanks,” I said drily.
“Scarlett, you don’t happen to know where the toilet is, do you, by any chance?”
***
After more official photos, it was at last time for some food. As it was a buffet, everyone was allowed to sit where they wanted—everyone except the main wedding party, which of course included me. I had to sit on the top table, next to the best man.
Will was OK in small doses; I’d met him before, and he was harmless enough. But by the time dinner and the speeches were over, I could have happily strangled either him or myself, depending on which I thought might bring a faster end to his never-ending drone about the joys of CB radio.
“I thought all that died out when the Internet came along,” I said in a vain attempt to shut him up, or get him on to another topic of conversation.
Will looked stunned that I could even compare the two.
“There will always be a place in our hearts for CB radio, good buddy,” he said, placing his hand on his heart in a dramatic gesture of allegiance.
“But don’t people just use mobile phones now?”
Will sucked in his breath. “Cell phones! They are a blight on humanity! My good buddy, Transit Trev, was just telling me the other day how his…”
I was just about to bang my head on the white tablecloth in front of me when I heard my name spoken. I don’t think I’d ever been so pleased to see David in my whole life.
“David!”
“I thought I’d come over and see how you were doing. Am I interrupting?” he asked, looking at Will.
“No! No, not at all,” I answered before Will could say otherwise.
“Good, good. It seems the formalities are over now, so you can come and join us at our table if you’d like to?” He held his hand out toward a table in the corner of the room.
I sighed with relief. “Yes, I copy you—that’s a big 10-4,” I said as I stood up.
“What?”
“Sorry, I mean yes, I’d love to join you over there, David.”
I turned back to Will and smiled. “Well, good buddy, you got your ears on? It’s time to pull the big switch on you, I’m afraid, because this beaver is over and out!” I grabbed David before Will recovered from his shock and took up the airwaves once more, and we made our way over to the table he had been sitting at with a few of Felix’s work colleagues.
“Oh my God, was I glad to see you just then,” I said as David found me a chair and I sat down. I’d once sat through a marathon of trucker movies on one of the lesser-known Sky channels when I’d been off work ill one day. Who would have thought old Burt Reynolds and Clint Eastwood and his orangutan would have come in so handy one day?
