Chapter 20

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The offending dress had gone straight to the goodwill bin that evening. I'd scampered out of my house in flip flops and pyjamas in search of one as soon as I'd showered Leon James off me. It was now Saturday and Leon had texted a few times since Tuesday, but I hadn't replied. I hadn't suffered any consequences from my silent treatment yet, since he'd be ignoring me in the office regardless of whether I sexted him or not.

I smoothed down the dress I'd chosen for Izzy's wedding and stood back to look at myself in the mirror. It was a rose pink cami dress with a floaty short skirt that fluttered against my thighs when I moved. In lieu of a traditional hat, I wore an elaborate and enormous floral fascinator. I was surprised that the curls I'd put in my hair remained intact as Scott and I made our way up the stairs of the church.

'Get ready to burst into flames,' warned Scott in my ear as we entered. I giggled softly as he continued to whisper, 'I'm melting, melting!'

'Oh what a world!' I hissed back as Scott deadpanned, 'We're with the bride,' to the usher. He gestured to his right and we sat in a pew somewhere around the middle.

'That usher was cute,' said Scott appreciatively.

'And probably only about 20.' I hit him playfully on the arm.

'Hmm, maybe I should go for someone my own age but, oh wait, they all turn out to be straight.'

'Okay, firstly, one turns out to be straight and, two, would you just drop it?' I asked with a laugh. 'As Kim from Kath & Kim would say, that's over - O-V-A-H.'

'Still, it seems like everyone I've been going for in the last year, with the exception of one, has been at least five years younger than me. No more, I say!'

'Oh yeah?' I winked at him. 'What about that office fling you had last year?'

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted saying them. I hadn't even had a drop of alcohol yet - what was wrong with me? The look on Scott's face confirmed that I'd said the wrong thing.

'What exactly do you mean by that?' he snapped.

'N-nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Don't worry about it.'

'I will worry about it. What exactly did you hear about me?'

The civilised parade of pastel dresses and dove grey suits lowering into place for a wedding that was about to unfold around us seemed to melt away as I looked down at my nude Top Shop court heels.

'I-I just heard through the grapevine that you had a thing with Vernon Goode. Sorry, correct me if I'm wrong.'

'Who did you hear that from?'

'I don't know - a few people? Carlo?'

'Nope, try again Beth. You definitely didn't hear it from Carlo.'

I looked up and opened my mouth but no words came out. Scott seemed like he was about to say something else but he was cut off by Deborah, who looked lovely in lilac as she sat down next to him. On her strawberry blonde head sat an enormous dark purple hat adorned with an equally enormous white bow.

'Love the hat Debs,' gushed Scott. 'Very Rose DeWitt Bukater when she boards the Titanic.' Why was that movie following me around like trouble so much? It was over ten bloody years old, for christ's sake. Deborah giggled.
                 'I have the hat but not the goddamn jewellery to go with it, not like those women on the groom's side.' She dipped her hat towards the decidedly more reserved and demure right side of the church.

'Pfft,' I said dismissively. 'They don't look half as good as you do.'

'Thank you sweetie,' she smiled.

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