Fractured(12)

I was ushered to a large circular table in the far corner of the restaurant. I chose a chair facing the doorway, wanting the advantage of being able to see who would arrive next. I could certainly have done without the large mirrored wall directly opposite our table though. I’d already spent far too much time stressing over my reflection in the hotel room, I didn’t really need the indulgence of another half-hour of wondering whether my choice of midnight blue dress with the deep V neckline had been the right one. Having brought no alternative for the evening, there wasn’t really much I could do about it either way. Nervously I kept checking my reflection, each time pulling my hair forward, making sure it swung deeply across my cheek.

Phil was the first to arrive, looking tanned and much more muscled and broad-shouldered than I had remembered. He crushed me to him in such a bear hug of an embrace, I felt sure some ribs were going to give way in the process.

‘OK, need to breathe now.’ He laughed and released me, sliding into the chair beside me.

‘You’re looking good, Rachel,’ he began, and I had to almost sit on my hand to stop myself from automatically reaching up to check my hair was still hiding my face. If he noticed, he was too polite to say. ‘It’s been way too long. How have you been? Are you still living in Devon?’

We filled in the gaps in our histories, keeping it light, and his story was sufficiently varied to take us through until the next arrival: Trevor and his partner Kate. I didn’t know that Sarah had invited partners, but as I introduced myself, after receiving a lift-you-off-your-feet hug from her boyfriend, I realised that Sarah had been wise to have included outsiders at our group’s reunion  . Somehow new faces would take the pressure off.

For the first time I counted up the place settings at the table, and wondered who the extra seat was for. I didn’t have to wait long to find out, for Sarah burst into the restaurant with an infectious grin, a bundle of Getting Married helium balloons and her fiancé Dave in tow.

‘Who brings their fiancé to their hen night?’ joked Phil, standing up to shake Dave’s hand warmly in greeting.

‘What can I say? He just can’t bear to be apart from me.’

I gave her my warmest smile and then nodded my head towards the balloons.

‘Classy.’

‘I thought so.’

‘Well this is a really nice place,’ pronounced Dave, pulling out a chair for Sarah before settling himself closely beside her. ‘Very posh.’

‘Uh-huh,’ she confirmed, and then stage-whispered across to me, ‘Better get on the phone and cancel that “entertainment”, Rach.’

By this time, Trevor had been approached by the wine waiter and while a discussion ensued over what to order, Sarah took the opportunity to lean over and whisper in my ear.

‘How are you doing, hon? Really.’

‘Hanging in there,’ I whispered back, and when I saw the concern cloud her brow, I knew I had to try harder. ‘I’m fine, stop worrying about me.’ She gave my hand a quick squeeze and leant back in her chair.

The first awkward moment occurred shortly after our chosen drinks were delivered to our table.

‘So who are we missing then?’ asked Trevor blithely and an uncomfortable silence ricocheted between us as the double-meaning of his innocent remark hit home.

‘Matt and Cathy said they might be a little late,’ Sarah quickly supplied and Dave, who really was in tune with his future wife, immediately forestalled any awkward moment by embarking on a long and improbable story about his recent experience with a parking attendant.

We were all still laughing when I noticed a few diners at other tables glancing up in appreciation towards the entrance to the restaurant. Without looking up, I knew they had arrived. Individually they had both always had the ability to turn heads, I knew that only too well from my own time spent by Matt’s side. Together they were phenomenal. Magazine-photo perfect. Movie-star beautiful. The combination was almost breathtaking and as they made their way towards us I noted that they both looked, if anything, even more stunning than they had five years earlier. I’d never felt so plain in my entire life. And empty. Because I knew that in another life, with another turn of the dice, there would have been someone sitting at this table to reassure me that was simply not so.

Cathy had dressed to stun, that much was obvious. The figure-hugging black halter-neck dress did exactly what it was supposed to do; the neckline and thigh-high split simultaneously allowing tantalising glimpses of both cleavage and long tanned legs. Her hair was blonder than I remembered and fluffed to perfection about her face. But it was Matt who drew my eye; who had always drawn my eye, I admitted honestly. Like Phil, he too looked taller and broader than my remembered image. His dark suit and crisp white shirt looked expensive, and from their immaculate fit I guessed they hadn’t been bought off the peg. His face was leaner, more chiselled than it had been, although his eyes, as they met mine and smiled in greeting, were still the same. I tried to smile convincingly back, thinking suddenly that this was just like earlier today when I had stood before my old house; that strange feeling that here was something that was mine, but yet clearly wasn’t mine all in the same moment.