A Beautiful Day for a Wedding: This year’s Bridget Jones!. Charlotte Butterfield

off her life and everything had more colour, more vibrancy – it all just made more sense. They were going to split the rent on a studio flat in Manhattan, and travel to work on the subway together every morning and eat slices of pizza from a neighbourhood Italian restaurant in the evenings.

      When he didn’t turn up at the airport, leaving her a two-line note in her passport by way of an explanation, Eve had stood there alone in the bustling departures hall, a new shiny suitcase at her feet, clutching his letter that promised her an explanation soon. Should she go to New York alone, and live the adventure that was designed to be shared, or should she stash it in the great filing cabinet of life under ‘missed opportunities’? Holding back tears for every minute of the plane journey, she arrived at JFK alone, unsure and utterly heartbroken.

      Without his share of the rent paid, she had to cancel the let on the studio, and live in whatever she could afford, which turned out to be a hall cupboard advertised as a ‘compact bedroom’. She navigated the subway alone everyday, clutching her bag to her chest, eyes wide at the pace of life and magnitude of people, all rushing past with somewhere to go, someone to go to. Her first few dinners in her new city were eaten with just her thoughts for company. Ben hovered near the surface of everything she did, every new experience she had was tinged with sadness and then anger that he had let her down so badly. She’d managed to, if not forget about him, certainly pack up all thoughts of him into a little box in the recesses of her brain, somewhere she rarely allowed herself access to. But now this. How dare he just dance back into her perfectly ordered life, and start playing silly buggers with it.

      Apart from Luke’s cringeworthy opening of ‘That’s not the first time today I’ve risen from a warm seat with a piece of paper in my hand’, which was met with a horrified gasp from his new wife and a smattering of compatriot sniggers, the rest of the groom’s speech was a roll call of thanks and protocol. Before he told everyone to ‘Glaze your arses, I mean, raise your glasses,’ he ended with the customary thanks to the ‘stunning bridesmaids, who have all been incredibly supportive to Tanya in the run up, particularly Ayesha, with the beautiful table plan and decorations.’ Cue a round of applause for Ayesha, who looked at once embarrassed and a little confused at being singled out for praise. Nothing surprised Eve about this wedding any more. The sooner she could wriggle out of the patchwork boa constrictor masquerading as her dress, climb into her own bed and put Tanya’s wedding in the annals of history, the happier she’d be. But that utopia was at least six hours away.

      ‘I’m getting some messages for you from the other side,’ Violet whispered during the best man’s speech.

      Despite a vast amount of media training, Eve had no ready response for that. ‘Um. That’s nice,’ she mouthed back.

      ‘They’re saying dog poo.’

      ‘Dog poo?’ Eve whispered back.

      ‘Yes. Does that mean anything to you?’ Violet’s eyes were filled with expectation, perhaps that Eve would respond with, ‘yes, that’s my surname, Eve Dogpoo,’ or ‘that’s my address, Number 5 Dogpoo Avenue.’ She hated to disappoint her though.

      ‘Um, we once had a golden retriever and I used to pick his business up?’

      ‘That’ll be it then.’ Violet adjusted her large two-handled fuchsia handbag that was resting in her lap and settled back in her seat, smiling.

      The waiters chivvied everyone outside after the meal for the band to set up and a dance floor to be laid. Eve spent most of the time in the toilet with Becca to avoid bumping into Ben again, and away from Tanya’s eagle eyes fixating on her patchwork gown. Re-entering the warehouse they were stopped by the officious master of ceremonies. ‘Have you got your bracelets?’

      ‘I’m sorry?’ Eve said. ‘Bracelets?’

      ‘For the evening reception,’ he said, pointing to a trestle table where guests were queuing up to have colour-coded bracelets fastened around their wrists. ‘Join the back of the queue, ladies.’

      ‘What the hell’s this?’ hissed Becca as they shuffled their way to the front.

      It transpired that despite Tanya and Luke’s not inconsiderable wedding budget, their generosity did not extend to watering their guests in the evening. A little sign propped up on the table announced that Gold Bracelets were £40, Silver £25 and Bronze £15.

      ‘I don’t believe it, she hasn’t!’

      A rather embarrassed looking student masquerading as a server for the evening was patiently explaining to each guest that should they want to keep drinking the champagne then they needed to purchase the gold package, spirits were silver, and the house wine and beer were bronze.

      ‘I think she has,’ laughed Becca. ‘Wow.’

      ‘Wow indeed.’

      ‘Bronze please,’ Becca told the student, while Eve huffed next to her. ‘You’re not seriously doing this, are you?’

      ‘What choice do we have?’ Becca replied. ‘We’re her bridesmaids.’

      ‘Exactly! She’s making us pay for the privilege of being here. Sod that, I’m going home.’

      ‘Eve, you can’t, we have to stay. Look, just go for the bronze one, we’ll get absolutely plastered on plonk, and then laugh about it tomorrow. Can you lend me some cash?’

      They queued up at the bar to flash their bracelets to the barman before being handed a couple of glasses of acidic white wine. Violet was next to them holding her golden bracelet up to the light admiring its shine. ‘I would imagine this is what it’s like being at a music festival,’ she said. ‘So exciting. Now I will never need to go to Glastonbury.’

      The friends moved away from the bar to let similarly disgruntled guests take their places.

      ‘I see you’ve gone for the cheap option,’ Ben said, joining the two of them. ‘You can take the girls out of the student union, but you can’t take the student union out of the girls.’

      ‘Look at you, flashing the cash with your fancy silver one,’ Becca teased, while Eve stayed silent next to her, looking at the floor.