Okay, she was asking me to leave a message.
I drew a deep breath. Here goes...
‘Hi, Nick, it’s me. Zoë... Frixos.(Oh no, it was weird already.)I’m ringing to wish you luck in your new job.(No I’m bloody not!)Sorry, scratch that, I’m ringing to say I’m sorry.(Shit, now I’ve repeated myself.)I’ve been an idiot. I’m like the base Indian inOthellowho threw away the pearl. (What. The. Actual.FUCK?? Shakespeare???? AndRACIST!!!!)Okay. I’m rambling.(Accurate.)My brother’s getting married in an hour.(Not relevant!)And I wanted to tell you that I haven’t forgotten what you said to me that night. You said you’d never met anyone like me, and well, I’ve never met anyone like you, either. I’m sorry I behaved so badly. You didn’t deserve it. Thank you for taking me to karaoke. You were right, it was fun. And Iwasscared. So thank you for making me face that fear. I’ll think of you whenever I hear Def Leppard. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and I’m going to miss you. A lot.’
Shit, the lady was talking again. His message box was full.
The phone beeped, then I rang off.
It was done. It wasn’t pretty, but at least I’d said my piece.
A car horn honked outside. The taxi was here. No time to wee, or check my bag or make-up. But somehow, it didn’t matter.
I picked up my bag, wrapped my shawl around my shoulders and ran out of the house.
*
Thankfully, the rain had stopped. My parents chatted excitedly as we drove.
‘You look lovely,’ said Mum, and Dad nodded.
‘Alice won’t be too happy,’ he said, winking.
‘You both look great, too,’ I said. They’d outdone themselves – Mum in an emerald-green shift dress that brought out the chestnut highlights in her hair and Dad in a navy suit complete with waistcoat.
‘You need to undo the bottom button,’ I told him as I shifted uncomfortably in the middle seat.
‘Why would he do that?’ said Mum, horrified. ‘So people think he’s too fat for his suit?’
Dad looked equally puzzled, although his concern was for the reputation of his tailor, who was also a second cousin. ‘Chris made this to measure. He’d be very upset if people thought he hadn’t done his measuring right.’
They both had a point, so I didn’t bother explaining it was a tradition. I mean, it’s not like the wedding would be written up inHello!and everyone’s appearances pored over by bored people in dentists’ waiting rooms.
The Greek church – or rather, to give it its official name, the Cathedral of St Nicholas – was only a ten-minute drive from my house, so before long we were pulling up outside.
People were already milling on the pavement, avoiding the puddles and errant drops of rain from hanging branches.
I stepped out of the taxi and into the noisy embrace of my extended family.
‘You’ll be next, Zoë – God willing,’ said every single relative over thirty.
I nodded and smiled.
It was going to be a long day.
*
Alice looked radiant, Pete cried four times and enough rice was thrown at the church door to send hundreds of pigeons swarming to our feet. They were shooed away by the churchwardens, who pointed wordlessly to the signs prohibiting the throwing of perishables.
Then we were back in the assembled cars and coaches to be whisked to the hotel in Russell Square.
I’d managed to not check my phone for two whole hours, but I glanced at it now. I had a message from Mike telling me that Rebel Alliance would be providing that evening’s music.
I grinned. Pete and Alice loved that band.
I didn’t have any other messages, but that was okay. It was their day, not mine.
*
