“This song reminds Jordan of her first love. She told me the other day, didn’t you Jordan? She was in love once. Just like me and Marcus!” Her tone was sing-song.
Jordan closed her eyes, trying to block this out. It wasn’t working.
Abby was trying to sing along even though she didn’t know the words. She was just about to launch into the chorus, when the bus pulled up at the final vineyard.
Jordan leaned over and snapped off the radio, giving Abby a stern look. She was pretty sure it sailed right over her head.
They all clambered off the bus, spirits high. Ahead of her, Taran was leaning on the bus, a big beam on her face, phone glued to her ear. On the phone to Ryan again, no doubt. Nikita, Frankie, Delta, and Erin were reminiscing with Abby about a time at university when she drank too much red wine and spilt a glass all over someone else.
“Red wine?” Arielle asked, screwing up her face. “I hope they weren’t wearing a white shirt.”
Nikita nodded her head. “They were.”
Abby grinned as they took their seats at the tasting counter, five stools down one side, five stools down another. “That wasn’t even the worst of it. I was very sorry about messing up this woman’s top, and I’d read that white wine was a great thing to remove red wine stains. So with my booze-addled brain, I took this woman to the toilet and poured a glass of white wine down her.”
Now Gloria had her head in her hands. “Did she scream at you?”
Abby frowned. “I don’t recall exactly what she said, but I know I might have shouted if it had been me.”
“Again, there are some things mothers never need to know.”
“We definitely shouldn’t start talking about all of Abby’s university conquests, then.” Delta was stirring again.
Jordan sat up at that.
Abby threw a glance Delta’s way, before shaking her head. “We should not. It’s my hen weekend, and I say we drink more wine.” She put a hand in the air. “Who’s for more wine?”
Cheers all around as the bartender lined up ten shiny glasses, before pouring a generous amount into each glass. Jordan leaned over and put her hand over the top of the final glass, shaking her head.
“Last vineyard, Jordan. You can have a drink, now.” That was Abby, giving Jordan the side-eye.
But Jordan wasn’t to be swayed. It was still only 4pm. The day was young. “I’ll skip this round.”
“Who’s the bride?” Abby fixed her with a knowing smile. “You were never this goody-two-shoes when we were in primary school.” She tapped the base of Jordan’s glass. The bartender still hovered, bottle poised. “A sip. For me.”
Annoyance fizzed up Jordan, but she was cornered. “Okay. A dash. For you.”
The bartender poured a small amount into her glass, before pushing it to Jordan.
Abby turned on her stool, and grabbed the seat with her right hand just in time to stop her from falling. “Oops!” she said. “Wobbly me!”
Jordan put a hand on Abby’s arm to steady her. “Okay?”
Abby raised her gaze, nodding as she took her glass.
Jordan sighed. The sooner this was over and they were back at the villa, the better.
“Everyone!” Abby waved her glass in the air.
Jordan winced, taking a step back.
“I just wanted to say, thank you all for coming to one of my last weekends as a single woman.” She pulled on her top. “Plus, I love my T-shirts. Cheers!”
Whoops from the group, then clinking all around.
When she reached Jordan, Abby paused, then tapped her glass to hers. Then Abby went to drink, missed her mouth, and poured most of the red wine down her white T-shirt that simply saidBride.
She jumped up, distress etched on her face. However, her sudden movement sloshed more wine over the edge of the glass, down her forearms and onto her front. If her face had been contorted before, now she looked like she might cry.