Enlightened (11 page)
The three of us stood there gazing at the reflection of the beautiful gowns. All it needed was Rebecca to be in her dress and the scene would be set. Hearing a sniff by my left ear I turned to Rebecca and saw her eyes welling up. ‘These are the ones, girls,’ she murmured happily. ‘I know Nicholas wanted a silver theme, but I think he’ll be just as happy with navy blue. Let’s get the woman to properly size you up.’
Today called for my extra special new shoes. They needed to be comfy, while also utterly fabulous to look at, and they needed to match a black outfit – luckily this pair ticked all those boxes. The reason for my all singing, all dancing new shoes? Today was my hen-do, and I was so excited I’d barely managed to eat my breakfast. Nicholas had also hardly touched his toast this morning, but his loss of appetite was because he was in a bit of a sulk about the prospect of me being out all day and night without him, something I found rather over the top, but had so far refrained from commenting on.
Admittedly it was perhaps a little early to be having my hen-do because we still had nearly four months until the wedding next March, but after initially setting the hen do for the end of February I’d had a phone call last month that had changed all my plans and forced me to drastically shift my hen-do forwards. One of my oldest and closest friends Fiona – best buddies since our days at nursery – was heading off to Indonesia after Christmas and was going to be away for a full year working in an orphanage. She’s a doctor, a very well respected paediatrician at Great Ormond Street, and had been practically begging for the sabbatical needed for her trip, so when her hospital had finally agreed to the placement she couldn’t turn it down or try to rearrange just for little ol’ me.
We’d both been so disappointed when she’d told me that she was going to miss the wedding that we’d spent an entire evening in a cocktail bar drowning our sorrows and crying our eyes out, but when I’d told Stella the following day she thought for a few seconds, then simply suggested moving the hen-do forwards so at least Fiona could be involved in that. As soon as she’d said the words I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it myself. There had been no reason not to – there wasn’t a chance I was changing my mind about the wedding, so really it didn’t matter when I had the hen-do.
After Stella had spent so long changing the arrangements so Fiona could be accommodated, I’d then spent the last few weeks thinking that my chief organiser herself wouldn’t be able to come. The flu Stella had suffered – a ‘super flu’ according to her doctor – had really run her down for nearly three full weeks in the end, and as the date for the hen-do crept closer and closer I’d started to really panic. Luckily Nathan had picked up some antibiotics from the pharmacy, which had perked Stella up within a few days. Last weekend’s dress shopping trip had been her first real excursion out of the house since her illness, and after no adverse side effects from the exertion she had announced herself recovered. Nathan had been a wreck during her illness, poor guy. He might not vocalise his emotions much, but it had been clear for anyone to see how worried he’d been about Stella.
So now here we were, the day of my hen-do, just after two p.m. on the first Saturday in December and we’d been picked up in a flashy long limo that comfortably seated all six of us – me, Stella, Fiona, Louise, and two of my other closest friends. As well as being roomy, the car had its own very well stocked mini-bar and sound system pumping out some brilliant music, and we were on our way to the first surprise stop of the day. I had no clue about Stella’s plans for me, but I didn’t care; I was surrounded by friends, we were all in fabulous moods, and that was all that mattered.
Stella had us all chinking our glasses together as she raised a toast to “a fabulous friend, fabulous day, and fabulous wedding” which had me blushing with embarrassment, and then our limo set off. The driver didn’t rush to the destination though, instead opting to take us on a route around Hyde Park and Regents Park whilst we sang along to classics by Wham!, Take That, and Mika and drank two glasses of deliciously fruity Pimm’s. Once we had drunk the jug dry and were well and truly in the swing of things we finally pulled up outside The Ritz where Stella informed me that we had an afternoon tea date in the Palm Court. Afternoon tea in The Ritz – how exciting, and what a great start to the proceedings!
Thank God I had dressed up, because this room, not to mention the hotel lobby that we’d just walked through, were
incredible
. And I mean jaw-droppingly opulent. The salon was in the centre of the hotel and dripping with elegant style, history, and of course the occasional gilded statue. As its name suggested it also had large palm trees dotted around its perimeter which were somehow greener and healthier than any I’d ever seen on an actual beach.
The food and drink we consumed far exceeded any image of ‘afternoon tea’ I’d ever had before; caraway bread sandwiches with the most sumptuous fillings, freshly baked scones dripping with cream and jam, and the most mind-boggling array of teas I’d ever seen – I’d literally never heard of half of them. Not that we were drinking tea for most of the meal; chilled champagne arrived shortly after we did, and with me and my five closest friends all in rather high spirits it certainly didn’t go to waste.
By the time we emerged from the arched doorways of The Ritz it was gone six o’clock in the evening and we were all well on the way to being rather tipsy. Magically our limousine was waiting for us by the curb and we all piled in to head back to Stella’s house to change for an evening of dancing and merriment. That’s literally all I’d been told, I didn’t know venues or details, I’d merely been given a card that said to pack a change of clothes for dancing in. So I had – my favourite little black dress and the same plum coloured high heels I had on already. I got them in the Coast sale last month and I totally loved them; they were amazingly both comfortable and beautiful, and definitely my new favourites.
As it turned out, we’d ended up at Nathan’s swanky Docklands apartment to change, much to the excitement of my old schoolfriends who ran around exploring like over excited children let loose at Disney World, and exclaimed they’d never seen such a beautiful home. Nathan was out, apparently entertaining Nicholas for the evening, which was just as well because after well and truly giving his apartment the once over we changed and then made rather good use of his balcony and mini bar.
We’d had a drink at a great little cocktail bar in Covent Garden – best Cosmo
ever
– and now it was half past ten and we were making our way into a nightclub called Project just behind Oxford Street. I’d heard of the place, it was a swanky, members-only club making all the headlines for its exclusivity and celebrity members, but I never dreamed in a million years that I’d ever be going inside it. ‘How the hell did you manage to get us in here? I thought it was members only?’ I whispered to Stella as the bouncers checked our ID and waved us inside without even a blink of concern.
Turning to me Stella gave a casual shrug, ‘Nathan sorted it,’ she said in way of explanation. Which immediately made sense; Nathan was probably even richer and more influential in London circles than Nicholas, so if anyone was going to blag entrance tickets to a swanky nightclub, he’d be the guy to manage it.
I might listen to Wham! on occasions as a guilty treat, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t shake it on the dance floor like the best of them back in my student days, and as we made our way further inside, the heavy, hot air and thumping beat of ‘Animals’ by Martin Garrix surrounded me and I felt almost like I was stepping back in time. Let me correct myself – the deep pulsing beat of the music and its addictive rhythm was like stepping back in time, but the club itself couldn’t have been more modern. Project London was certainly no student dive bar, there were no sticky floors or seedy lighting, no, everything around us reeked of glamour, wealth, and high class style. Neon lights of purple and red lit the large space, a bar ran the length of one wall, and the remainder of the floor was given over to either dance space or ultra-sleek leather booths.
Seeing beautiful dresses and chic three-piece suits everywhere I was just thinking that the calibre of the guests matched the classy surroundings when Louise grabbed my arm and shook me so violently that I staggered forwards several steps. ‘Holy shit! Isn’t that the woman out of that Tarantino film?’’ she shrieked in my ear. Thankfully the music was loud enough to cover her outburst, but she was bloody well right, out on the dance floor swaying and rolling her leather clad body like it was made of water was a genuine A-list celeb. Not that I could actually remember her name, but still!
Quite simply, I was having the best day ever. Apart from the day Nicholas had proposed, of course, that had been totally unexpected and had made for a pretty amazing day too. The music tonight was out of this world, I was tipsy and carefree, and I was surrounded by my five closest friends in the world as we giggled and lost ourselves in the beat. With my clumsy tendencies I wasn’t the best dancer by any means, but when I let my inhibitions down like I had tonight I could really enjoy myself. Even Stella was dancing with gusto, and I knew she usually hated it. I couldn’t help grinning with happiness, it had to be said that as hen dos go, Stella had done a pretty amazing job.
Half way through the following track I noticed that Stella’s attention had become distracted by something over my shoulder as a frown settled on her brows. Wondering why she had suddenly stopped dancing and looked so pissed off I turned and followed her gaze to a low balcony area just a few steps above the main dancefloor. It was difficult to make out because of the dim lighting, but as the strobes swung across the floor I saw Nicholas and Nathan leaning on the railing, staring at us with matching frowns on their faces like a pair of moody gargoyles.
What the heck?
What were Nicholas and Nathan doing here? I spun back to Stella in confusion. ‘What are they doing here?’ I watched as Stella shook her head and downed the rest of her cocktail.
‘I have no idea, but this is just like Nathan to do something so bloody overprotective. Sorry, Becks, when I asked him to get us tickets I never thought he’d turn up here too,’ she said apologetically.
‘Well, they know this is supposed to be a girl’s night so let’s just leave them to their brooding,’ I declared boldly, grabbing Stella and Fiona’s hands and leading our group a little further away from our unplanned audience.
‘Who do you think is worse?’ Stella asked with a nod of her head towards the balcony where our pair of domineering men stood. Briefly turning my head again I saw both Nathan and Nicholas watching us intently and completely ignoring the music.
Now that I’d had more than my fill of alcohol I actually found this all quite amusingly sweet. ‘I think they are probably just as bad as each other, although I have to say Nathan’s got the Jackson death stare down to a fine art. I swear to God if any man comes near you he’s going to fry him on the spot.’ We both started giggling, but as the DJ switched the track to a remixed version of Prodigy our hands were grabbed by the rest of the girls and we got swept along with a high-energy dance which had the dance floor full within seconds.
Needing a break I left Stella and the girls dancing and grabbed a bottle of water from the bar. After downing the whole thing in one very unladylike display I scanned the club and sought out Nicholas’ indiscreet hiding place. Finally my eyes landed on him and I saw he was still in almost the same position as last time, and once again his eyes were on me and his face was decidedly unimpressed. I decided in my drunken state that it would be a good idea to go and see him and find out what he was playing at, but really if I’m honest, my tipsiness was making me quite horny and I also quite fancied sneaking a quick make out session in the dark confines of the club.
Sauntering up the four steps to where Nicholas was leaning I tried to look haughty and disapproving, and was immensely glad that my drunkenness didn’t cause me to visibly stagger. ‘Fancy yourself as an honorary hen, do you?’ I murmured. It was dark, but even without direct light I saw Nicholas’ cheeks flush with embarrassment at being so obviously caught out.
Sliding an arm around my waist he shrugged mildly and then tugged me against him firmly so our hips were now squashed together. Deciding to wind him up a little more I pretended to be annoyed with his presence and kept my eyebrow raised questioningly. It took all my restraint not to reciprocate his touch, but I left my hands dangling by my sides and my facial expression as blank as I could. Looking slightly panicked by my cold shoulder he chewed on his lip and then spoke quickly. ‘It was Nathan’s idea really. He mentioned where you were going and then when we were out for drinks we found ourselves in the neighbourhood.’ He gave another shrug and took a sip of his beer while watching me carefully over the rim of his bottle. I could tell Nicholas was trying to decide if I was angry with him or not, but to be honest, I was so tipsy that I didn’t really mind him being here. In fact, with his hips still pressing against mine and the first stirrings of an erection making themselves felt against my stomach my earlier pretence at anger was rapidly fading and a cuddle was starting to sound quite tempting.
Just as I was about to make good on my idea Nathan swore loudly behind me, causing Nicholas and I to briefly break apart as we spun to look at him. My eyebrows nearly flew to my scalp as I watched as Nathan literally vaulted over the railing to the dance floor below before storming across the space and making a beeline for Stella and my friends. Crikey, talk about athletic. People were scattered by his progress through the crowd until he stopped beside Stella and glared at a man now quivering next to her.
Nathan’s growl was so loud I heard it from all the way over here, ‘Get your fucking hands off her.’
Once he had dispatched with the unwanted groper I watched Nathan bristling with anger until Stella pulled him into an embrace and started dancing with him, probably to distract him from wanting to go after the guy and punch him.
‘I think my brother is a little over-protective,’ Nicholas observed beside me as he resumed our closer position by sliding his arm around my waist again, but I only just managed to hold in a full blown laugh – talk about pot calling kettle black! ‘Must be a family trait.’ I muttered with a smirk, but luckily Nicholas didn’t hear my sarcasm over the music.
