‘You two still going strong then?’ she asks joyfully.
‘Oh yes, better than ever,’ he says, wrapping his arm round my waist.
I want to beat him off with a stick, but instead I plaster on a fake smile and clamp my lips shut. Say nothing.
‘Your cousin Sarah is here somewhere with a lovely new man of hers.’ She stands on her tip toes to scan the room.
Great. As if I didn’t feel shit enough, being here in a dress the colour of dog shit, pretending to be happy with my utter creep of an ex. Now I have to see my supermodel cousin Sarah and her spindly spider legs. God, I hope she’s got fat.
‘Well, I’m sure we’ll bump into her – must mingle,’ I say walking away quickly.
I bump right into the happy couple, and Abbey grabs me, plastering a kiss on my cheek, her boob almost falling out in the process.
‘Thank you so much for calming me down earlier,’ she says, smiling from ear to ear.
‘No probs.’
‘Yeah, thanks Poppy. Abbey told me what you did – with mum and everything and...well, thanks,’ Henry says, smiling awkwardly.
That's probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.
‘Hey Hen!’ Stuart blasts running over to us. ‘Can't believe you went through with it,’ he laughs.
‘Someone had to tie me down eventually,’ Henry says, smiling lovingly at Abbey.
They launch into a long boring conversation about Rugby as Abbey waits patiently for them to finish.
I excuse myself and walk over towards another waiter, getting another two glasses. I just wish they were giving out free bottles of beer – I hate champagne. But hey, whatever gets me through today.
‘Don't be drinking too much sweetheart – you don't want to get drunk and embarrass your brother on his day,’ Mum says to me, appearing from nowhere.
‘Thanks Mum – I’ll keep that in mind,’ I say knocking it back.
‘Where’s Stuart?’ she asks looking around for him.
‘Off catching up with Henry.’
‘I hope he’s behaving himself,’ my Dad says, clearing disapproving of his presence here.
At least I have one person on my side.
‘I’ve just seen Aunt Margaret. She looks well,’ I say, trying to take the attention from me.
‘I bet she does,’ Mum snorts. ‘If I had a bag load of poison injected into my face I’d look fantastic too, but some of us like to grow old with some dignity.’
‘I just can't wait for this day to be over already.’ I smile sympathetically to my Dad, who I can see is itching to get out of his suit and into his pyjamas.
I weave through what seems like hundreds of people, trying desperately to lose Stuart, who seems to be searching for me whenever I spot him. Why can't he just leave me alone!?
‘Ah Poppy, over here,’ Aunt Margaret calls to me.
I begrudgingly walk over to her, through the crowds of pretentious idiots and drunken family.
I see her standing next to Sarah and unfortunately she’s still the spindly spider legged freak I remembered. Her long blonde hair dangles down towards her bum and her face has the same sucking a wasp expression as ever. But her boobs seem massive. Has she had a boob job?
‘Poppy, obviously you remember Sarah and...Where has that new man of yours got off to?’ she says, seeming annoyed.
‘Oh, he’s around here somewhere. Oh, there he is!’ She begins waving like crazy at someone over my shoulder.
‘Ryan!’
I turn round in what seems like slow motion to face Ryan, my Ryan, walking towards us. His smiling expression quickly changes to match mine. A sickening feeling creeps over me and I feel the colour drain from my face as I remember the last few words he spoke to me.
How can he be here!? How!? Does God hate me that much? Did I murder someone in a previous life!?
‘There you are,’ Aunt Margaret says. ‘Ryan, this is Poppy.’
I freeze, wanting to evaporate; to be anywhere in the world but here. I avoid his gaze and look down at the floor, wanting to die. Hoping he doesn’t punch me immediately in the face.
‘Actually, we already know each other,’ he says, in the same silky voice that I’ve missed so badly.
I feel the same familiar ache begin in my chest, the same longing and depression that I’ve felt for the past few weeks. This is torture.
‘Oh really? How do you know each other?’ Sarah asks seeming rattled.
I glance up at him for a second and feel myself flush when I catch his brooding eyes. Tingles run up my spine. This is unbearable.
‘It's a bit of a long story actually,’ he says, seeming relaxed. How can he be so relaxed?
‘Hi Ryan,’ Stuart says, appearing from nowhere and wrapping his hand possessively round my waist.
Oh my God. This is my worst nightmare.
‘Hey,’ he smiles back, looking confused as he stares at Stuart’s hand on my waist.
‘Oh, you know Stuart as well?’ Sarah asks.
‘Yeah, small world,’ Ryan says. He stares at me, his eyes cutting through me.
I want to shout out that I haven’t got back together with Stuart – that it's all just an act, but then my Aunt Margaret would tell everyone and my Mum would kill me. So instead we all just stand there staring awkwardly at each other. Ryan and Stuart seem to be glaring at each other. Sarah seems to be glaring at me. Aunt Margaret seems to be trying to work out why there is such a weird atmosphere. I almost do my awkward turtle tongue, but stop myself just in time.
‘Well, I’m gonna go to the toilet,’ I say, desperate to leave.
I practically run in there, sitting on the toilet taking deep breaths and trying to stop my body shaking. How can this be happening? London is a massive fucking place. How can we all be in the same wedding in St Albans?
When I realise I’ve been in there for about ten minutes I decide I have to go out and face the music. I can't stay in the bathroom all night, can I? No. Mum would only come looking for me.
I walk back into the giant reception room, trying to blend in and act natural as I walk to the bar and start queuing.
‘Hey,’ Ryan says, appearing next to me, his gaze accusing.
‘Hi.’ I smile and look down at my hands resting on the bar. I’m too ashamed to look at him.
‘So...you’re back together with Stuart?’ he asks scathingly.
‘No actually,’ I retort, my back immediately up.
‘Huh?’
I look up to see him studying me with curious eyes. His magnetic brown eyes.
‘It's a long story,’ I sigh.
‘Doing stuff to please other people again are you?’ he asks smirking.
I glare back at him.
‘I’ll take that as a yes then.’ He gazes at me with probing intensity. There’s no question of me looking away. My hands start to shake.
‘Look – ‘
‘I’m – ‘
We both speak at the same time and then laugh nervously.
‘Sorry, you go,’ he says, his eyes smouldering.
‘I was just gonna say I’m really sorry, you know...about...everything.’ I trail off, realising there's nothing I can say to change things.
‘Don't worry. I was going to say I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? Why? I’m the one that spread a vicious rumour about you!’ I say, surprise showing in my voice.
‘You didn’t exactly mean to start a rumour. You just made one mistake and it escalated. I see that now. I know how you get yourself in these messes. I just totally overreacted and I’m sorry.’
Wow. This is a turn up for the books.
‘That's OK. Although...’
‘What?’ he asks seeming intrigued.
‘No, I was just gonna say that you did scare me a little.’ I laugh nervously.
‘Did I? Well, sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to. To be honest I thought I’d be able to apologise when I came home that night, but...’
‘But I’d already gone.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You could have called me though.’
I wonder if I hadn’t bumped into him whether we ever would have seen each other again. I get the barman’s attention and order us two beers.
‘I know. But you could have too,’ he says, his tone making it sound like he was confessing to a humiliating weakness.
‘That's because I thought you hated me.’
His face turns sad and serious.
‘Poppy, I could never hate you.’
I stare at his honest eyes and wonder if he has any idea of the effect he has on me. How I ache to taste those lips again.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please make your way into the dining room – dinner is now served’ the toastmaster shouts.
‘Well, I guess I better get going,’ I say, not wanting to leave him at all.
‘Yeah, me too.’ He smiles, but stays put.
‘Oh and congrats for getting with Sarah. I’m really happy for you.’ Then before he can react I run into the dining room.
* * *
When I sit down at our table I take a swig of my beer and revel in the cool bubbly feeling that fills my mouth.
‘Poppy, that's not very lady like,’ Stuart says patronisingly.
‘What?’ I ask him, my back instantly up.
‘Drinking beer at a wedding. Here, have some wine.’ He starts pouring it for me.
‘I’ll have whatever the fuck I want, thanks,’ I snarl.
Was he always this controlling? I just want to punch him so bad.
‘OK, hunny, whatever you want.’