Lexi glowed. ‘Thank you!’
Bella turned up the music. Madonna: ‘Like a Virgin’。 She’d collated a playlist called ‘The Lexi Years’， this track having been on repeat in Bella’s teenage bedroom as they’d curled their hair with steaming tongs, her brothers trying to get a peek of Lexi through the open doorway.
She felt a yearning in her chest to cut loose. She wanted music so loud she could feel her blood buzzing with it. She wanted a quick line of coke, just to get glittery. She wanted to slink into a club, feeling a crowd of bodies humming and writhing and moving. She wanted glossy lipstick reapplied in a steaming bathroom filled with women. She wanted to dance with Lexi, eyes on each other, the whole dancefloor gravitating towards them. That. That buzz. That tripping out of the club at two, three, four in the morning and going anywhere … wherever the party was … taxi rides through London, hotel rooms, minibars. She wanted it all.
Through her twenties, those nights out had given shape to her weeks. She’d been working as a nurse then, living hand to mouth to be able to afford a blowout when she wasn’t on shift. Then she’d return to the hospital, rolling in with tales of wild nights that made her patients grin.
She glanced at Lexi, who was standing with a flute of Prosecco in hand, talking to Ana. Lexi may have said she didn’t want to go clubbing this weekend – but Bella was the maid of honour. She had a job to do – and she planned on doing it thoroughly. She’d allow them this first night. Let them have their cosy little mezes, and then she’d step forward.
She fetched another bottle of Prosecco from the ice bucket, giving it a quick shake so that the cork flew off and it bubbled over, causing squeals of delight and the rushing of glasses. They cheers-ed again, glasses clinking, music playing, the night warm against their skin. Yes, this was good.
Robyn approached wearing a navy dress that said interview candidate more than hen party. In a hushed, organiser’s voice, Robyn said, ‘Shall we do the presents tonight?’
A fortnight ago, Robyn had emailed the hens suggesting that each of them make a present for Lexi that ‘reflects your friendship’。
Bella had rolled her eyes at the screen.
‘Sure. If you want.’
‘Perhaps now, before we eat?’
Bella noticed how knackered Robyn looked. Kids. That’s what they do to you. She’d only met Robyn’s little boy once. Jack. He was cute; he had Robyn’s big, innocent eyes, and a lopsided grin that hinted at a mischievous streak.
Bella’s three brothers were all married with kids. She was an auntie to six nephews and one niece （named Lolita, for God’s sake!） who the family spoiled rotten and Bella already saw worrying signs of herself in, like the way she’d check who was watching before performing a pirouette. But Bella didn’t want children of her own. It was a discussion she’d had with Fen right at the start. Sperm donors and artificial insemination weren’t the problem, it was that she didn’t want a baby in her body. No, she liked her body with just her inside, thank you very much. Plus, she enjoyed being Fun Auntie Bella. She didn’t want to impose rules and serve healthy snacks. She loved it when her nephews flocked around her ankles, like little vultures, hunting out whatever treats were stuffed in her handbag.
‘By the way,’ Robyn said, ‘I wanted to say thank you for arranging the villa with Fen. It’s perfect. Lexi looks so happy.’
‘Oh. You’re welcome,’ Bella said, disarmed by the compliment. She glanced over at Lexi. ‘You’re right. She does look happy.’
‘It’s nice to hang out again. All together,’ Robyn added.
Bella felt her shoulders softening. ‘It is,’ she said, meaning it.
A long pause followed. ‘I’d best get the gifts organised,’ Robyn said, then ducked away.
That was the problem with her and Robyn these days: they ran out of things to say. It was like every conversation stalled to a dead end. Bella lifted her glass to her lips and took another drink.
Chair legs scraped across stone as the hens took their seats beneath the pergola. Candles flickered in jars, light glinting from the long stems of their glasses.
Robyn had artfully arranged the pile of presents in front of Lexi. She stood at her side, hands clasped, saying, ‘We all wanted to make you a gift that says something about our friendship with you. You’ve got to guess who each one is from.’
‘But before we start,’ Bella said, sliding back her chair to stand, too, ‘let’s make sure everyone’s drinks are topped up.’ She produced a full bottle of Prosecco and worked her way around the table, refilling each of their glasses. She paused at Fen’s side, leaning close to her ear, whispering, ‘You smell divine.’