Katie Fforde - Wedding Season

‘You surprise me,' murmured Bron, who was starting to feel giggly. It was all so silly.

‘And, finally, she has to get up on that stage and swing round the pole!'

‘But she's pregnant!' said Sarah, unable to stop herself. 'She shouldn't be doing things like that!' Then she wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

‘Oh, and the drinks?' Charlene ignored Sarah's protest and was again checking to make sure everyone was listening.

‘We drink with our right hands for the first half-hour and our left for the second. Anyone gets it wrong, they have to put a couple of quid in the middle. Then we buy the next round.'

‘That sounds complicated!' said Elsa, struggling to join in.

‘Well, it doesn't matter if you mess up, it just gives us more money to drink with,' said Charlene.

‘Right,' said Elsa, hoping she wouldn't have to find a cash machine.

‘The male strippers come later,' went on Charlene. 'It's a full Monty, so I hope nobody's prudish.'

‘As if!' said Bron, with an Oscar-winning display of enthusiasm. 'Bring on Robbie Coltrane, I say.’

Elsa leant in and whispered behind her hand, 'I think you'll find you mean Robert Carlyle.'

‘Mm, maybe I do,' she agreed, laughing in spite of everything.

They had a few more rounds of drinks. Lily ticked off various things on her list while the others had to go through a collection of suitable hen-night games until Charlene suddenly called out, 'Flies!' and with a varying degree of alacrity, everyone except Bron, Elsa and Sarah, who looked on bemused, and Lily, who was allowed to just watch and laugh, threw themselves down on the floor and waved their arms and legs in the air. Sarah, feeling as if she was indeed a dying insect, looked at her watch. Ten past ten. No chance of going home for at least a couple of hours.

‘OK!' Charlene, who had obviously missed her vocation as a drum majorette or sergeant major, got to her feet. 'More drinks! Come on, you lot.' She looked pointedly in Sarah's direction. 'Join in.'

‘I asked those guys over there to play flies,' said one of Lily's other friends, 'but they wouldn't. They're wearing kilts. I think they're being spoilsports.’

Unusually for her, it took Sarah several moments to pick up the significance of this and she realised her brain just wasn't operating at its usual speed. 'Could I just have water this round?'

‘Nope,' said Charlene. 'You had water last time. I want everyone to have a proper drink while the show is on.’

Lily, who had discovered a real talent for picking on men on stag dos who were up for a laugh, said, 'Yes, lighten up, Sares. You're supposed to be having fun. That man was only being friendly, you know.’

Sarah smiled guiltily, remembering the young man she'd sent away with a flea in his ear. 'I know and I am having fun. How are you getting on with your list?'

‘I've just got to snog a stag.'

‘But you've snogged at least three people, haven't you?' Lily nodded. 'But they lied to me and said they were the stag when they weren't. It's my last dare,' she said comfortingly, as if that made everything all right. Gaily, she went off on her mission.

Charlene came back and handed out the drinks. Sarah took a glass. It was pink and fruity and sweet and for a blissful few sips, Sarah thought it might be non-alcoholic.

Too late she felt its kick and realised she'd drunk a very strong cocktail very quickly. How many had she had? she wondered. She'd lost count. She would definitely have water next time.

The crowd were going wild. The five men on the stage were gyrating wildly, their polished muscles gleaming. Sarah, who'd accepted yet another cocktail by mistake and then decided she might as well give up her futile attempt at counting, did appreciate they were good at what they were doing, and all had very good bodies, but she didn't really enjoy it.

She glanced at Elsa and Bron who also had glazed expressions on their faces. Lily, Charlene and the other two, whose names Sarah had never quite grasped, were jumping up and down screaming with glee. Lily had already been invited on stage to join in the show. She'd been very good, Sarah admitted, not at all embarrassed by the things she was asked to do by a man wearing nothing but a feather-thong. If only she felt more in the mood for all this. Being a wedding planner was making her old before her time! Maybe she should stop feeling so responsible. Lily was an adult, after all.

‘OK, Sarah?' Elsa shouted into her ear, obviously aware that her friend was not enjoying herself.

‘I just need a glass of water. I don't know how many of those cocktails I've had, and they're so sweet.'

‘I'll get you one if you like,' said Elsa.

‘I'll go!' said Sarah, rising from her seat and then sitting down again. She was suddenly aware that she'd had far too much to drink.

‘It's all right,' said Elsa. 'I won't have to pay for it, I don't think. I've run out of money.'

‘There's some in my bag if you need it,' said Sarah. 'I got some out before I came.' She burrowed under her feet and found her bag, and in it, her purse. 'Oh. I don't know how I can have spent all that money.'

‘I'll get the water. Then it must be time to go home!’

Somehow Charlene roped them into yet another game of truth or dare, and, already rather befuddled, Sarah found herself having to down a few more drinks as a forfeit. She felt a desperate urge to lie down but first she really needed to find the Ladies.

When she came out again it seemed to take her a while to find the door of the building but at last she got out on to the pavement. Elsa and Bron were there, looking concerned.

‘Charlene took Lily and the others in the limo. They said if we didn't want to go to another club we didn't have to,' she said.

‘That's good,' said Sarah, aware of having to enunciate very carefully, as well as keep herself upright; everything was weaving in and out of focus horribly quickly. 'I really don't want any more to drink. I've had too much already. Let's call a – a – car that takes you places.’

She watched as Bron and Elsa went through their purses, looking for money. 'Take mine,' she said grandly, swaying and steadying herself against a wall. 'I've got plenty of money.'

‘No you haven't,' said Elsa. 'Yours has been rifled already. Those cocktails were very expensive.’

Sarah felt very very tired and sat on a convenient step. 'If I have a little rest first we can walk home.'

‘I don't think so,' said Elsa firmly as she and Bron exchanged glances. They'd never seen Sarah like this. They all needed to get home, and safely. 'First off, these shoes are killing me and second, it's bloody miles away.'

‘Oh,' said Sarah, and closed her eyes.

‘We need to phone someone,' said Bron.

‘Who? I'm not phoning my dad – only as a last resort, anyway,' said Elsa. 'I don't mind calling him if I'm lost and need ,to be given directions, but he'll have had a glass or two of wine by now, or be in bed. And Laurence is away.'

‘Well, I can't phone James. He gets up really early. It wouldn't be fair.’

Sarah opened her eyes briefly when she heard either Elsa or Bron say, 'Hugo!'

‘Oh yes,' she murmured and closed her eyes again.

Sarah seemed to have been asleep for a long time. She'd had some very strange dreams including a car ride and Hugo. He was taking her somewhere. Bron and Elsa were there and they seemed to be talking about her, but she couldn't really understand what they were saying. Then she woke up and it was all real, if still a little hazy.

‘Thank goodness I wasn't dreaming that I was walking down the street naked,' she said and Hugo, who seemed to be on his own now, laughed.

‘Come on, sweetheart, let's get you to bed.'

‘I don't want to go to bed with you, Hugo. Even if I do really like you.'