Page 80 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
“Ah, she looks lovely,” Lisa murmured, leaning close to Cassie. “It really is a gorgeous dress.”
“It is.”
Tom turned, his smile lighting up his handsome face as he held out his hand to his bride. The two of them drew together, gazing into each other’s eyes, seemingly oblivious of everyone and everything around them.
Eva moved in front of the altar. “Dear friends and family, we welcome you today to witness and celebrate the marriage of Victoria and Thomas.”
Cassie glanced across the aisle. Liam was sitting a few rows in front of her, little Robyn tucked in close to him. His pale-grey jacket was immaculately tailored over his wide shoulders, his dark hair curled over his ears, the way it always had, always tempting her to tuck it back.
Riding with him on Thursday had brought back so many memories of riding with him ten years ago. That summer they had ridden almost every day. Had the sun really always shone? Or was it just that she had been in love?
So many memories. Her mind drifted back . . . The night of her eighteenth birthday party . . .
* * *
It was Saturday night. Her birthday had been on Wednesday, but you couldn’t have a decent party on a Wednesday, could you?
And it was a great party. Several of Paul’s football teammates were there, much to the delight of some of her friends fromschool who were flirting wildly with them. Lisa and her fiancé were there, with some of his friends from the hospital where he was on his final-year placement.
She had been dancing with Liam for most of the evening, though occasionally they had both danced with other people. She was jiving — of a sort, given the crowd — with Terry, the team’s tall black goalie, when someone grabbed her arm.
“Hey, Cass. Got any more cans? We’re running short of beer here.”
“Oh, right. There’s loads in the kitchen. I’ll go and get some. ’Scuse me, Tel.”
She slipped away to the kitchen, blinking in the bright light after the dimmed lighting in the sitting room. There were already two black bin bags full of empty cans, but there were still more than a dozen two-four cases on the table, and she hoisted one up into her arms.
“Need a hand with that?”
She turned in surprise. She hadn’t seen Bill, who worked up at the Cullen farm, sitting on the back step. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Oh . . . I . . . It’s a bit crowded. I . . .”
“Why don’t you go and ask Debbie to dance?”
His ears went red. “She’s dancing with Alan Gowan.”
“Well go and cut in,” she urged.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t. I . . . If she wants to dance with him . . .”
She gave him an encouraging smile. “I think she’d rather dance with you.”
He looked down at his hands — big, work-roughened hands. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I can’t dance. I’m too clumsy. I’d just tramp on her toes.”
Cassie sighed. Poor Bill — he was cripplingly shy. It must have taken all of Tom Cullen’s best efforts to drag him along tothe party. He’d have been happier to stay up at the farm with his cows.
Giving up on a bad job, she left him to himself and headed back into the party.
“Ah, here’s the girl with the gear.” Liam’s older brother Luke swooped on her and took the cans of beer. “Thank you, darling. You’re a lifesaver.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek and disappeared into the crowd.
Cassie glanced around the room. It was heaving with her friends. All the usual crowd. People she had known all her life, in this tiny seaside town. She loved it all, but . . . Surely there was more to find in the world than this?
“Ah, there you are.” Liam dropped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.
“I was just getting some more beer.”
“Good thinking. But come and have a dance now.”
