I Hope You Dance (35 page)

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Authors: Beth Moran

BOOK: I Hope You Dance
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“A bit cheesy.”

“I love cheesy.”

“Took me ages to find the song.”

“I love this song.”

“I'm so sorry it's sixteen years late.”

“I don't care.”

“Ruth Henderson. I have loved you my whole life. Are you ready to dance with me now?”

I nodded, laughing in response to his widening grin. David stepped forward, one arm extended. I took his hand. And finally, we danced.

Epilogue

It was girls' night at Lois's house. We lounged around the garden on various chairs, beanbags and children's play equipment while making our way through an Italian feast. Ana Luisa, balancing a bowl of gnocchi on a belly as round and ripe as a melon, shifted awkwardly in her camping chair.

“This is no good. Can somebody help me up? I have to empty my poor, squished bladder before something embarrassing happens.”

Ellie leaned forward on her cushion and managed to pull Ana Luisa to a standing position without even getting up. “Are you sure you're going to last until after the weekend? I've delivered a few foals in my time, but I think whatever you're incubating in there is going to need more than some strokes on the nose and a bag of oats before it gets out.”

“Tell me about it!” Ana Luisa stretched out her full magnificence in a dress that encased her glowing – and still growing – frame like a tent. “I cannot believe I have another six weeks of this to go. I can't even remember what my feet look like. And my nipples! My goodness, they look as if –”

“Too much information!” Maggie, one of the night's honorary guests, grimaced in horror.

“Keep going, Ana. Feel free not to hide the more unpleasant aspects of pregnancy with my loved-up daughter.”

Maggie spluttered. To be honest, so did a few of the others. “ME? Loved up? Says the woman who
simpers
and
blushes
every
time anyone mentions tomorrow. Or David. Or anything remotely, vaguely connected with either one of those things.”

I smirked. I did do that. I was indeed utterly, deliciously loved up.

Ana Luisa waddled off to the bathroom.

“Where are your sisters tonight, Ruth?” Ellie asked. “Aren't they coming over?”

“They'll probably pop in later on, but first they need to get themselves beautified ready for tomorrow. Lydia's brought them the latest celebrity fad treatments. Including a face pack made of nightingale droppings.”

“Nice.” With that thought, we resumed eating.

Emily suddenly barked out, “Hand it over!” thrusting her arm out in Rupa's direction.

Rupa smiled sweetly. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

She surreptitiously folded her hands in her lap.

Emily waggled the fingers on her outstretched hand. “I told you if you couldn't keep it in your pocket, I'd confiscate it.”

Ellie shook her head. “Seriously, Rupa. That's been, what, all of eight minutes.”

“I know, but she's got a cold and –” She broke off into a squeal as Ellie launched out of her chair and made a dive for the phone. The two women wrestled briefly before Ellie's superior size and strength forced Rupa to give it up.

Puffing slightly, Ellie passed the phone to Emily, who tucked it into her jacket pocket. “There we go. If Harry calls, or texts, I will be sure to let you know.”

“That's not fair!” Rupa looked at me for back-up. “You can't stop me texting my husband. Why do you care anyway? I'm still joining in with the evening. And I'll only get more stressed if I can't check she's okay.”

I pulled out my phone, reading from the screen. “Please take R's phone if texts or calls me again. Hope asleep and new episode of
Whole Wild World
on.”

Rupa gaped at me.

“She's fine, Rupa. Please try to relax and enjoy tonight. You really need it.”

Her eyes flicked from Emily, now tossing an olive into her open mouth, across to my mum, who pulled a wry face, lifting up her glass in a toast.

“All right. I'll try. But you have to promise to tell me if Harry messages. And I'm going home at ten.”

“Of course you are.” Emily winked. “Here, have another glass of fizz in the meantime.”

Ana came back, leading a last-minute guest. “Look who I found lingering on the doorstep.”

Vanessa stepped into the garden, carrying a pretty gift bag tied with a cream bow. “I don't want to intrude. I just came to give you this.”

She handed me the bag, hovering awkwardly until Mum propelled her into a seat, thrusting a cranberry and lemonade mocktail into her hand. I opened the bag, carefully taking out the silver tissue paper parcel. Inside the parcel was a set of ivory vintage lace lingerie, complete with garter.

“These are beautiful, Vanessa!” They were. A world away from the high street bra and knickers I had been going to wear.

“The garter's just a lend. It belonged to my grandmother. I thought it would do as your something old and borrowed. And, see the blue ribbon?”

“Well, there you go, Maggie.” Mum tutted. “There was no need for the hair dye after all.”

Maggie flicked her cobalt-coloured hair over her shoulder and shrugged.

I stood up to give Vanessa a hug. Who'd have thought it? Vanessa Jacobs at my hen night. Vanessa Jacobs
invited
to my hen night. Lois leaned over and had a closer look.

“They are sensational, Vanessa. Sexy and sophisticated all in one. You should stock them in the shop. I think I might be able to persuade Matt to get me some.”

“You might. But don't let him see the price tag before he agrees to it.”

“Oh, maybe I'll just surprise him one morning.”

Emily grinned. “I take it you're both enjoying Teagan starting nursery.”

“Enjoying? Relishing! This Wednesday was her first time staying for the whole day. Which of course, coincidentally, also happened to be Matt's day off.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Mum boomed across the garden. “Did you have a day out together?”

A long, slow smile spread like hot fudge sauce across Lois's minister's-wife face. “We did not. We had a day in together. And yes, it was lovely.”

Maggie stood up, flinging her drink onto the table. “That's it! I can't take any more! Is this what you do on girls' nights? Talk about sex and intimate body parts while ogling raunchy underwear? You're all obsessed. If you don't let me go in and watch TV with Seth and Matt I'm going to gag.”

“Permission granted.” I grabbed her as she slipped past me, and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Don't stay up too late. Big day tomorrow.”

“Really? I hadn't noticed.”

A big day. Tomorrow I would wake up in the quirky cottage David and I had bought on the outskirts of town, half paid for with the earnings from my animal pictures. I would drink champagne and eat a smoked salmon bagel for breakfast. My hugely pregnant, about-to-be step-mother-in-law would style my hair and do my make-up, while my other friends faffed and laughed and helped keep my sisters under control. I would put on the exquisite silk wedding dress hand embroidered by my mum (no sequins), don my veil and take my father's arm as he led me down the aisle to meet the man – not of my dreams but of real life. My life. It had taken long enough, but I had actually, finally got myself a life worth living.

If you loved I Hope You Dance… don't miss
Making Marion

“A wonderfully warm-hearted story full of love and laughter.”

– Victoria Connelly

Marion Miller
comes to Sherwood Forest to uncover her father's mysterious past. She is looking for somewhere to stay, but instead finds herself on the wrong side of the reception desk at the Peace and Pigs campsite. Despite her horrible shyness, she promptly lands herself a job working for the big-hearted and irrepressible Scarlett.

It takes all of Marion's determination to come out of her shell and get to grips with life on a busy campsite, where even the chickens seem determined to thwart her. Then an unfortunate incident with a runaway bike throws her into the arms of the beautiful, but deeply unimpressed, Reuben…

Can Marion discover her father's secret? And will she find peace, and perhaps even love, among the pigs?

 

ISBN: 978-1-78264-099-8 | e-ISBN: 978-1-78264-100-1

£7.99

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