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‘Come on! Come on! Imogen’s getting ready to throw her bouquet!’ cried Carla, dragging Millie out of the kitchen and across the veranda towards the steps at the front of the villa, followed by Ella and Denise and all the other women in the wedding party.
The meteorological gods had pulled out all the stops and had decided not to provide an interlude of liquid sunshine that afternoon. The whole of the cocoa plantation was bathed in a golden halo of light for the celebrations of Imogen and Alex’s marriage. The courtyard, where the happy couple and their guests had just enjoyed the most spectacular wedding breakfast, was an inspired venue. Every available tree, wall, table and chair had been decorated with an abundance of fresh colourful flowers, garlands of twinkling fairy lights and Karen and Gracie’s home-made butterfly bunting.
However, most important of all, everything had gone off without a hitch. The food had been delicious, and the comments relayed back to the kitchen had been very complimentary. The guests were now milling around the grounds as they waited for the steel band to set up their drums and for the evening’s entertainment to start.
It had been an emotional day for everyone after what they had been through, especially when, in the absence of Imogen’s father, Julia had stood up to deliver a Mother-of-the-Bride speech. She’d assured the gathering that Jeff had definitely walked amongst them throughout the day, bursting with pride as his daughter made her wedding vows, and how delighted he would have been to have Alex as a son-in-law.
Millie had to gulp down on the lump in her throat when she realised that, if she were ever fortunate enough to be standing in Imogen’s stilettos one day, her own mother would have to perform a very similar role. Her heart gave a nip of sadness that her father would not be at her side when she walked down the aisle, but then a smile spread across her face as she realised how pleased he would be that she was able to even envisage that such an event could happen in the future, irrespective of the trauma of the past.
‘Okay! Ready everyone?’ Imogen called from her position on the top step, every pore of her body oozing happiness and her eyes sparkling with adoration as she glanced at her new husband standing proudly next to her. She held up the bouquet Julia had lavished such love and attention on and waved it at the section of the crowd containing all the single ladies.
‘Yes!’ came the cheerful chorus.
Millie glanced around the assembled crowd. There was Julia, her face alight with joy, her hand resting on Brad’s arm as they watched the younger members of the wedding party jockey for the best position. Then there was Harriet, but Millie knew she wasn’t interested in elbowing anyone aside to be first in line to catch the bridal bouquet because she had confided only half an hour ago that she and Owen were expecting their first child in May next year. Owen had smiled shyly at Millie, his arm slung around his wife’s neck, almost too attractive for words in his crumpled linen suit and lopsided tie.
Finally, her eyes landed on Carla, bobbing and bouncing up and down in the middle of the throng, trying to position herself in the perfect spot. For the first time that day she had ditched her camera – could it be because its bulky presence would hinder her chances of catching the bridal bouquet? She had spent the day so far snapping everyone and everything, but it was Greg who now clung onto the camera as if his life depended on it.
‘Assessing the competition?’ whispered Zach as he came to stand next to Millie, heart-stoppingly gorgeous in his Master of Ceremonies suit.
‘No!’ she giggled.
‘Need any help? At times like this you might like to know that I played rugby at university. So, let’s talk tactics.’
‘Zach, it’s just a bit of fun. A tradition, not a competitive sport.’
‘Who are you kidding? I haven’t seen this much gritty determination since England played New Zealand in the World Cup!’
Millie laughed as she saw Karen hoist Gracie onto her shoulders. ‘I think you might be right!’
‘Okay! Good luck everyone! One, two, threeee…’
Imogen spun round and threw her bouquet high over her shoulder. A very undignified scramble ensued as the female guests leapt into the air en masse, their hands outstretched as they reached for the posy of flowers. Someone shoved an elbow sharply into Millie ribs, causing her to stumble into Zach and he snaked his arm around her waist to hold her upright.
‘Can’t blame your clumsy gene for that one!’ Zach laughed, making no attempt to let her go.
Together Zach and Millie turned to watch the scrum taking place in the middle of the courtyard. Suddenly, there was a loud squeal of delight, as Carla emerged from the fracas victorious, hugging the now-bedraggled bouquet protectively to her chest for fear it would be wrenched from her arms.
‘I wish I wasn’t leaving tomorrow,’ sighed Millie.
‘Me too, but let’s make the most of the time that’s left, shall we? Enjoy every moment! Come on or we’ll miss the first dance.’
Zach guided Millie back to the courtyard where Imogen and Alex were about to showcase the waltz they had been rehearsing for the last six weeks. When they’d finished, cheers and applause erupted, and the makeshift dance floor filled with couples. Zach held out his hand, his eyebrows raised in question. Millie didn’t have to be asked twice and, with a nod and a smile towards Lottie who gave her a beam of approval, she moved into Zach’s arms, not in the least bit surprised that her body fit perfectly into his muscular contours.
‘Have you had fun today?’
‘Not just today but every day since I arrived in the Caribbean. I’ve had an amazing adventure, Zach, and I’ve learned a lot about myself along the way. I’m going to miss everyone.’
‘Well, perhaps we could stay in touch and meet up when I get back to the UK? I should be back by the beginning of December if you want to make a date to come over to the Cotswolds for one of my legendary Spag Bols?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
She looked up and connected with Zach’s chocolate-brown eyes, fantasising about what she hoped would happen when they had the villa to themselves later that night, and enjoying the slow helix of pleasure begin its journey from her chest into her lower abdomen as their bodies moved as one to the romantic Caribbean ballad the band was playing. A waft of his citrusy cologne made Millie laugh. She had spent the whole day seeking out that reassuring aroma, knowing that it meant he would not be far away.
‘What are you laughing at?’ Zach asked, his mouth inches away from hers.
‘Nothing,’ she muttered, not wanting to break the magical spell.
As the thrum of the music changed from a waltz to the Whitney Houston classic Imogen loved, Zach’s lips met hers and Millie surrendered herself to his embrace. It was a fitting end to the best day of her life.
THE END
