30 Friday 14 February
It’s the morning of the wedding and Tom’s trying to perform two jobs at once: getting dressed into his suit whilst simultaneously attempting to pack his case for his trip to Japan tomorrow.
He’s got an early flight, so will be up at the crack of dawn to head to the airport. I tried to suggest we could still get a taxi to and from the wedding and he could at least have one or two drinks, but he was steadfast in his refusal.
‘I don’t much fancy a hangover,’ he said, almost pointedly, as we discussed it a few days earlier.
Somehow, we make it on time. There aren’t any official bridesmaids as such, but a few of us have been provided with matching dresses and are told to stand and look pretty in photographs. Ben’s brother is the best man. I almost don’t recognise him a
