Page 44 of People In Love
So you keep saying, Shay says. You decided on Devon, then?
Sort of. We’re going to see it, soon. To, I don’t know. Decide on things.
What things, Shay asks, and Nora twirls her hand in the air.
Everything, she says.
Sounds stressful, Shay says, though it’s meant to be the opposite. So, Shay says, a bit like packing a hospital bag ahead of giving birth, I’ll need to pack a wedding bag that I can grab at a moment’s notice?
Pretty much, Nora says. Robin would love that. He’s really taken with this spontaneity thing. His notebook isfilledwith ideas.
Hold the phone, Shay says, Robin hasideas? And he’s writing them in hisnotebook? His notebook that he’s carried around like an oxygen tank ever since our first year? What isupwith that? He’s usually so unoriginal. So passive.
I get your point, Nora says.
So you’re going dress shopping so you can pack your emergency wedding bag, Shay says, because your fiancé wants to marry the pants off you. And that makes you sad because …?
I’m not sad!
You are either sombre or sad and no, I could not tell you the difference, Shay says, but get away from the laptop and come and eat a pastry, why don’t you. I could even come with you, if you want. If you can push back the appointment to tonight?
I don’t think so, Nora says. They already squeezed me in last minute.
Send me pictures, then. You’ll need a second opinion, at least.
I’ll have one, Nora says, because she does not need to hide this.
Freya came round, then? Shay says, waving to a customer who’s leaving, and Nora says no, she’s patched things up with Bren. Sort of. So … he’s coming.
To the wedding?
Well, yes. But also to my appointment.
Shay removes the portafilter from the coffee machine and bangs it to get rid of the ground beans. Another customer approaches the counter for a scone; Nora serves her, takes payment, looks back at Shay when she’s done.
Why, Shay asks her, would you want your non-committal red-headed friend, who has a certain predilection for grubby clothing and terrible tattoos, helping you choose yourweddingdress?
Because he’s going to be my best man, Nora says.
It is the first time she has said it out loud.
That guy who rocked up at your party, she imagines Shay saying, that guy you’ve never quite got over, yes, I could see it in your eyes that night, all that unspoken history, don’t deny it, but instead all Shay says isI’mnot your best man?
Nora bites at the catch in her thumbnail.
Would you want to be?
Christ, no.
An eye roll, then, Nora’s pulse resuming its normal speed.
Good to know he’ll be at the wedding, though, Shay says. At least there’ll be one other thirty-something singleton there, for dancing or drinking or whatever shenanigans he might be open to.
Nora continues to gnaw at her nail.
Since when do you care about being single, she asks.
Rarely, Shay says, unless I’m at a wedding. That changes things, temporarily. All that love gives me a burning in my loins, the need to celebrate being young and alive in a kickass outfit. I’m thinking my green satin jumpsuit.
