A Christmas Wedding(21)

‘I don’t suppose it’s helped that Elliot’s been free and single and a willing accomplice.’

‘No.’ I shake my head ruefully.

Elliot gave me a card to give to Bridget, actually. He’s in a pretty good place now, I think.

‘I wonder if you’d still be breaking up if Elliot and I had stayed together,’ Bridget muses.

‘Who knows? Possibly not.’

That’s a slightly freaky thought. We all know that the people we meet shape us, but who knew that our friends’ experiences could alter our entire destinies? Maybe I wouldn’t be so broody if Bridget and Elliot were still a couple and resolutely child-free. And, if Lachie had never met young, fun Fliss, would he be so resistant to growing up?

‘I could’ve fought for him,’ I say. ‘He wasn’t sure about breaking up, you know. We did – do still – love each other, but I’m scared I’ll waste some of the best years of my life with him and we’ll still break up eventually. Then again, maybe he would have come around to the idea of having a baby. It terrifies me that I’m back to square one and might not meet anyone else. Who wants a single woman in her mid-thirties?’

‘Erm, Charlie did,’ she teases, and I blush, feeling like an idiot. ‘You can’t think like that,’ she carries on. ‘If you think like that, you’ve already lost. You’ve got to believe it will all work out. Throw yourself in headfirst and live positively and love will find you.’

I brush away another tear. ‘I’ll try,’ I promise.

‘Are you going to see Alex while you’re here?’ she asks discerningly.

I blanch. ‘You’ve got to be kidding, right? As if I need another complication.’

She shrugs. ‘I just thought…’

‘What?’ I’m astonished at the direction this conversation is taking. ‘You hate the guy!’

‘I don’t hate him. I just hate what he did to you, how shit he made you feel. But I know there are two sides to every story and he was going through his own struggles.’

I’d told her how he’d apologised when he came to Sydney. I gave her the full lowdown at the time.

‘I know you’ve never got over him,’ she says. ‘You thought he was your soulmate, not Lachie. I still remember the way you let him continue to email you after he left Zara, telling you he loved you and that he’d wait for you… I know you loved him back, even though you were happy with Lachie and loved him, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if you still had the pictures of him looking at you on his wedding day.’

My face heats up.

‘Ha!’ She points at me. ‘Gotcha.’

‘No,’ I state, trying to be firm about this. ‘I’m not going to see Alex again. I’m sure he’s moved on by now, anyway.’ Despite everything, my heart pinches at the thought. ‘I’m just not going there again,’ I say adamantly. ‘I’m not strong enough.’

She reaches across and presses my hand. ‘It’s all going to be okay. Failing everything else, there’s always sperm donation. I bet Charlie’s younger brother would help you out.’

We crack up laughing.

‘I’m so happy to see you,’ I reply, when we’ve both calmed down.

‘We’re going to have the best week!’ she exclaims. ‘I’ll cheer you up.’

‘Believe me, you already have.’

Bridget always was the best medicine.

Bridget’s mates love her too much to force a full-blown hen weekend on her if she really doesn’t want one, but there’s no way we’re allowing her to tie the knot without doing something together. So, on the Saturday night before her impending nuptials, we head into Padstow for dinner and a pub crawl. Apparently, one of the pubs is hosting a karaoke night, and Charlie has made me promise to video Bridget doing Eminem’s ‘Lose Yourself’. We’ve never done karaoke together before – he claimed with a grin that it’ll be one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed.

Some of Bridget’s local friends have joined us, including her former across-the-road mummy friend Jocelyn, who seems very likeable. Then there’s Bridget’s best mate Marty, Maria, who’s doing Bridget’s make-up and is also an old friend of mine, plus the lovely Laura, whom I’m so happy to meet after hearing so much about her over the years. Rachel was doing a wedding in Hertfordshire today, so she couldn’t make it, but she’s coming here on Monday to catch up.

Poor Laura is a little jet-lagged after arriving from Florida only a couple of days ago. She’s been visiting her parents in Cambridgeshire with six-month-old baby Max and came to Cornwall earlier today.

Max is unbelievably cute. He has a full head of dark hair, big brown eyes with ridiculously long lashes and chubby cheeks that expand twofold when he smiles. I keep picking him up for cuddles, and then struggle to put him down again.

Laura said I won’t like him nearly as much when he wakes me during the night. In the words of Lucy’s husband Nathan, jet lag is a bitch.

Charlie has very kindly offered to babysit, despite his hangover – he had his stag do last night, organised by his younger brother, Adam, who is hilarious and a complete flirt. He’s been over a couple of times in the last few days to hang out with us, and, although Bridget has warned him quite vocally – albeit unnecessarily – not to mess with me, his attentions have done my confidence a few favours.