The One with All the Bridesmaids: A hilarious, feel-good romantic comedy. Erin Lawless
idea that there was one perfect someone in the world for each of the girls. Granted, it was to get them to consider no sex before marriage, but still, the concept had stuck.
‘Ah, he’ll be along. He’s a man, my girl, and they are all inconvenience, so it will be when you least expect it,’ Eileen informed her authoritatively, settling back in the chair. Bea braced herself for an indeterminable onslaught of unwarranted love-life advice from her widowed godmother.
‘Mammy, I’m going outside for a fag, do you want one?’ Nora’s brother Cillian called out as he made his way past the table, beautiful new girlfriend in tow. He winked at Bea; she shot him a grateful look.
‘Cillian, that’s a filthy habit,’ Eileen intoned mildly, as she got up to follow her son out into the darkened beer garden and indulge in said habit. Bea exhaled, left in peace as both her head and her feet pounded in time with the bass of the music.
‘Here.’ Eli thunked a dripping pint glass of tap water down on the table in front of her. Bea squeezed his forearm in thanks and drank deeply. Eli, holding his own glass, joined her at the little round table. ‘I don’t think Baz got enough drink in. Everyone’s been very much enjoying the open bar.’
‘That’s because an open bar is a thing of beauty,’ Bea pointed out.
‘It’s going to be one drunken wedding if the engagement party is anything to go by. It’s nice, isn’t it, how there’s no big bride/groom split, really? Harry and Nora have shared friends for so long, everybody knows everybody. It’s nice. It’s—’
‘Incestuous?’ Bea supplied, sullenly.
Eli just laughed, used to her occasional darkness. ‘Come on. I know you of old, Beatrice Milton, and you are no way near as prickly as you pretend to be.’ He glanced over wistfully to where Nora was chatting and dancing with Cleo, both holding over-full glasses of wine aloft, shining in the lights. ‘You wouldn’t like what they have? To fall in love with your best friend? You can’t tell me that Harry’s speech didn’t touch you deep in that hedgehog heart of yours.’
‘You’re drunk,’ Bea laughed.
‘Well, you’re a hedgehog,’ Eli repeated, matter-of-fact. ‘Let’s dance.’
* * *
There was a soft touch to the small of her back, a voice in her ear, pitched low to sound under the music. ‘There you are.’
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