A Beautiful Day for a Wedding: This year’s Bridget Jones!. Charlotte Butterfield

when Ben came crashing into the church filled with profuse apologies. Eve held her breath, waiting for him to throw her under the bus and tell everyone exactly what had held him up, but he blamed the traffic and stood mutely as Tanya tore warm meat off his limbs.

      He then demurely took his place next to Becca at the end of the aisle.

      ‘No Ben, not there!’ Tanya shrieked. ‘You’re walking Eve up, which you would know if you were here on time.’

      As he moved next to her Eve could smell a combination of his aftershave masked with smells of manly sweat brought on, no doubt, by hanging twenty-five kilometres of bastarding chiffon. ‘It’s done,’ he whispered.

      She couldn’t bring herself to thank him, so just kept her eyes resolutely resting on the statue of a crucified Jesus.

      ‘You’re welcome,’ he said into the silence.

      Eve just rolled her eyes. The cheek of the man. He couldn’t possibly think that he could just waltz back into her life, do her a small favour and expect her to shrug, erase the past and pretend that everything was ok.

      It was just after 8 p.m. when Becca and Eve managed to head back to the warehouse and start gentrifying the floors. As a surprise, Tanya had booked all the bridesmaids manicures, less as a gesture of kindness, and more to make sure that they all had rounded nails, not square, painted the same unimaginative shade of pale pink. Personality and individuality were very much banned from this wedding. Eve promptly managed to completely ruin her nails within the first half hour of floor polishing.

      ‘You know, you could have just said no to her,’ Becca said, as she trailed behind Eve, holding the wire out of the way of the machine.

      ‘But who else would have done it?’ Eve replied, puffing her long hair out of her face as she manoeuvred the unwieldy polisher around a corner.

      ‘She’d have found someone. Note that she didn’t ask me or Ayesha as we’d have just laughed at her. You need to learn the art of saying no.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Haha. I mean it though, she only tells you to do these things because she knows you will. Are you like this at work too? Do you literally do everyone else’s jobs for them?’

      Eve thought for a second. It wasn’t that she was a control freak, or a perfectionist, or even a pushover, like Becca was insinuating; she just found it really, really difficult to let people down. But this wedding had tested even her limits of patience.

      ‘Ok, I’ll make you a deal.’ Eve offered, turning the polisher off so that she didn’t need to shout over its drone. ‘From now on, I’m going to trial a new me. One that doesn’t do anything I don’t want to do.’

      ‘That’s my girl. You will still help me plan Ayesha’s hen do and my own wedding though, won’t you?’

      ‘I’ll make an exception for you.’

      ***

      It was proving very difficult to shield Tanya’s eyes from resting on either the front or back of her dress, but Becca had been true to her word and was like Eve’s shadow, standing less than a foot away from her back at any one time, and the bouquet was stuck resolutely to Eve’s bodice. They hadn’t yet had to navigate the complexities of either of them needing the bathroom, but that time would come. It would have been comical if Eve wasn’t absolutely terrified of Tanya’s wrath should she find out. They’d got through the church service, and Eve had even managed to give Ben the briefest and smallest of smiles as he offered his arm for her to hold to walk up the aisle even though inside she felt like she was going to be sick. Once upon a time she’d played this moment out in her head, albeit with a different ending.

      Walking into the reception an hour later, Eve’s breath was taken away by the effect of the soft white material flowing down from the ceiling, the twinkling fairy lights, and the beautiful round tables bedecked in white tablecloths and tall glass vases with white orchids cascading out of them. She had to give it to Tanya, her vision was absolutely stunning. Finding her name on the big canvas propped up on an easel at the entrance, Eve winced. She was hoping to be sat near Becca or Ayesha, but she didn’t recognise anyone’s names on her table at all. After all she’d done for Tanya, you’d have thought she’d have given her a fun table to sit on. As Eve approached Table Thirteen, her heart sank. She was sat on the singles table.

      ‘Hi everyone, I’m Eve.’ She gave a little wave, hoping that it fell into the friendly but not flirty camp; a quick scan of the table had already confirmed that it was unlikely her future soul mate was present. Not that she was shallow or judgmental – one of the four men sitting around it might absolutely surprise her with their quick wit and repartee, but it seemed unlikely.

      After Eve had gone round the table, politely shaking everyone’s hand, one of the men took out a small bottle of antibacterial gel from his inside pocket and cleansed himself, while another started furiously vaping. The dark-haired one opposite Eve started lining up little plastic pots of lentils and homemade falafels that he’d brought with him in a mini cooler bag, and the spotty teenage nephew of the groom to her right had already started on the shots, fishing a slice of lemon out of what she was sure was her water and sprinkling table salt on his hand. The women were equally as welcoming.

      ‘So, what do you do—’ Eve peered at the place name of the germ-killer next to her, ‘—Peter?’

      In the exact same nasally voice that Eve had already given him in her head, he replied, ‘I’m a botanist. But you’d know that if you read your card.’

      ‘Card?’

      ‘In front of you.’

      Eve looked down at her table setting. Four sets of cutlery were laid out, which instantly gave her a sinking feeling as to how many courses she was expected to sit through, but tucked underneath her napkin was a little card. On it in neatly typed writing it read:

       Welcome to Table Thirteen (unlucky for some!) We hope you enjoy the reception, here are some introductions to your fellow guests to kickstart conversation and help you make new friends. Enjoy!

       Peter – Peter is a botanist and a keen fly-fisher.

       Jenny – Jenny is fluent in Welsh and can say the world’s longest train station backwards.

       Kevin – Kevin is a tube driver and fan of heavy metal, the heavier the better.

       Anne – Anne lives in the Orkneys and breeds the North Ronaldsay sheep which mainly eats seaweed.

       Bernie – Bernie is an ambidextrous vegan and has completed a marathon on a pogo stick.

       Louisa – Louisa is a lexicographer and a keen trumpeter.

       Jake – Jake has recently finished his A levels and hopes to become famous.

       Violet – Violet is Luke’s great-aunty and first started reading palms when she was seven.

      ‘You seem very young to be a great aunty.’ One of the women said to Eve.

      ‘There must be a mix up,’ Eve said. ‘I’m not Violet.’

      ‘So who are you and what do you do?’

      In the same vein as an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting Eve announced, ‘My name is Eve, I’m a wedding journalist and I drink ten coffees a day.’

      ‘That amount of caffeine can be very detrimental to your health,’ said the lentil man, who Eve rightly signposted as Bernie.

      ‘You’re telling me you pogo stick through a marathon on no caffeine at all?’ Eve replied.

      ‘You can’t use pogo stick as a verb, it’s a noun,’ the woman, who Eve guessed was Louisa, said curtly.

      ‘So, Jake.’ Eve swivelled slightly in her chair to the boy to her right. ‘What do you want to be famous