‘Please don’t let me streak and ruin the first dance,’ I mumble into his jacket.

  ‘Such a shame, but I promise,’ he grins, spinning me around and guiding me away from the tree and up towards the church entrance. ‘Private show later?’

  ‘If you’re lucky.’

  ‘Well here’s hoping.’

  ‘Guys!’ Josh calls, once he stops talking to Dan’s Uncle Andy and Aunt Sally, and has ushered them inside. He gives Real Brett a man hug before wrapping his arms around me and really giving me a squeeze. This is, without doubt, the perfect occasion for such an epic hug. ‘All right?’

  I wink in reply.

  ‘Fancy seeing you two here,’ Alastair joins in, slapping Real Brett on the back before draping an arm around my shoulder and looking down at my choice of outfit. ‘You look beautiful today, Sarah.’

  ‘Don’t I always?’ I ask, impressed with myself that I’ve been able to joke around, even though my body feels like it’s about to self-combust.

  ‘True story,’ he laughs.

  I hold my breath as we walk into the church and I spot Dan at the altar – a sight I don’t mind admitting I had thought about seeing for the majority of my twenties (it’s always the romantic bit in all the great filmic wedding scenes).

  I feel nothing.

  Well, I feel something – I mean, it’s Dan stood at the altar on his wedding day, and I’m not made of stone – but it’s not enough to make me weep down the aisle in despair or even throw secret daggers in his direction.

  Turning to the man by my side, I take hold of his hand, knowing I’m truly grateful to have him here with me on a day that could’ve been a total nightmare. I feel fine and far removed from the lost girl I was only a few months ago, knowing that I’ve moved forwards in more ways than one.

  Once the service begins, I smile at Natalia and Carly walking up the aisle in their pale pink bridesmaid dresses, sigh with happiness at the sight of the gorgeous bride Lexie (who looks like a magical angel in her exquisite ivory fishtail dress with heavy-detailed beaded waistband) and her dad as they pass us by, and cheer when the bride and groom kiss for the first time as husband and wife.

  All the while, my hand is in his.

  Once the service is over we walk outside and linger under a huge oak tree as other guests stream out of the church and wait for further instructions – all the while bombarding the new Mr and Mrs Tipper with their best wishes. I haven’t had a chance to grab them to congratulate them yet, although we have the whole day ahead of us, so there’s no rush.

  ‘Did you see me trip?’ asks Carly as soon as she sees us, her hands gripping hold of the fabric of her dress and holding it up – exposing her white legs and pretty silver heels.

  ‘No, when?’ I ask.

  ‘Hello Brett,’ she puffs, dropping the material and reaching up to give him a hug before continuing with her dramatic account. ‘Just before I sat down. I tripped on my own fucking foot. Josh and Alastair saw it and then got the giggles every time they looked at me during the service.’

  ‘Oh babe …’ I smile, knowing she’ll be really embarrassed.

  ‘We didn’t see a thing,’ winks Real Brett.

  ‘Are you still going on about that?’ asks Natalia, coming over and putting her arm around my waist and leaning her head on my shoulder.

  ‘It was fucking embarrassing,’ she whispers.

  ‘That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,’ cracks up Alastair as he and Josh join us.

  ‘It was the look on your face. Pure fear,’ says Josh, bursting out laughing as he mimics her expression.

  ‘Oh shut up,’ Carly grumbles.

  ‘It was pure class,’ smiles Alastair. ‘I hope the videographer caught it.’

  ‘If you two don’t stop I’m going to cry,’ she pouts, her eyes already wet and ready to gush.

  ‘Don’t listen to those meanies,’ I say, taking her hand and pulling her into a huddle with me and Natalia.

  ‘I didn’t even notice,’ whispers Natalia, putting an arm around her.

  ‘Brett!’ someone calls from the gathered crowd we’re loitering on the edge of.

  ‘Ned!’ he replies, his face breaking out into a huge smile as he opens his arms and walks over to his long-lost mate to give him a heartfelt manly hug. ‘It’s been so long!’

  ‘Too long, man,’ agrees Ned, who is almost identical to Alastair – although he doesn’t have the fabulous man bun or tattoos. He’s basically Alastair without the East London vibe – more business-like and clean cut.

  Having bumped into Ned at the B and B, I know he was really excited to see Brett again – it’s lovely to see the two having a good natter, especially as I know how deflated Brett was about them losing touch.

  ‘Dan and Lexie have asked for you guys to head round for a quick picture,’ says a young female striding over, who I’m guessing is the photographer’s assistant. Everyone else seems to already know her – no doubt from having their photos taken as they got ready earlier.

  ‘Great,’ says Josh. ‘Who are you after?’

  ‘Everyone in “Rehomed From Leicester”?’

  ‘Oh …’ I say. ‘You guys go – you’re in the wedding party.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ says Natalia, leading me by the elbow, totally ignoring my protest.

  ‘But they might want a picture of you guys without me in it,’ I hiss, looking back at Real Brett, who is still with Ned.

  ‘They’ll have plenty of them,’ she whispers back. ‘This one is about us …’

  We walk around to the side of the church as Dan and Lexie are having their last couple shot taken. They’re beaming with so much love and happiness that it’s almost impossible not to grin back at them and be soaked up in their joy.

  There’s a lot of whooping and laughter as we all mingle together and get giddy in the moment.

  ‘Congratulations,’ I grin, hugging Lexie and giving Dan a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Thank you so much,’ says Dan, wearing a smile to beat all the other mega-watt smiles he’s worn before.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re married!’ squeaks Lexie, jumping on the spot.

  ‘Neither can we!’ jokes Alastair, making us all laugh.

  ‘If you’d all like to gather around the bride and groom, that would be marvellous,’ says the male photographer, holding his camera up to his face.

  We do as he says. Josh and Carly hug next to Dan, while us remaining three stand next to the bride, all grinning manically while the photographer clicks away.

  ‘Lovely – now everyone turn to each other and laugh.’

  We all look at each other with confused expressions at being told to conjure up this fake reaction out of thin air.

  ‘Just think about something funny,’ he encourages further with a shrug.

  ‘Look, there’s “The fucking High-kick-flyers”,’ exclaims Alastair, pointing past us all towards the rest of the guests.

  We all gasp in horror and turn to look with huge frowns on our faces.

  ‘Huh?’ asks Carly.

  ‘Where?’ asks Lexie.

  ‘Were they invited?’ gasps Natalia.

  ‘I’ll tell them to leave,’ frowns Dan.

  ‘Those fuckers,’ exclaims Josh.

  We see nothing.

  As Alastair starts howling we slowly realize he’s been pulling our legs and fabricated the whole thing. We all crease up with laughter – getting the giggles at how gullible we’ve all been.

  As tears stream down my face I look at my bunch of crazy-arse friends and fall in love with each and every one of them a little bit more – even Dan and Lexie.

  Love really does make the world go round – and that’s any type of love, not just the romantic kind.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as soon as I check the seating plan and see that our bunch (minus the bride and groom, but plus Ned and his wife) are sat together – I was dreading the thought of sitting with strangers and being asked how I know the happy couple (‘Er, well I used to
date Dan,’ is a bit of an icky sentence and one I’m sure would be greeted with horror).

  We joke, we laugh, we get competitive over the table quiz (we win), we drink and we are very, very, very merry …

  I have a lovely day.

  One of the best.

  Stuffed to the brim with delicious food (we had posh fish and chips and a trio of chocolate cake magic for dessert), I head to the toilet. On the way back I take a little detour and wander up the lit garden path running alongside the marquee, finding myself perching on a wooden bench that’s been decorated with roses.

  I sit there for a few moments and enjoy the stillness of my mind.

  It doesn’t feel like I’m there any time at all when I hear footsteps coming towards me. I’m about to get up and join the others when I realize it’s Real Brett.

  ‘Hey,’ he smiles, taking off his suit jacket and placing it over my shoulders.

  ‘Thank you,’ I sigh, enjoying the warmth of his body as he sits down next to me.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Even better than that.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I beam, leaning my head on his shoulder and gazing at the night sky above us. ‘Tell me something, what did you think when you saw me in the office that day?’

  ‘What, other than being totally confused and thinking I’d been transported back into some weird alternative universe?’ he chuckles, his legs shuffling beneath us.

  ‘I guess …’

  ‘I wondered whether it was someone’s way of giving me a second chance.’

  ‘Second chance?’ I muse, looking up at him.

  ‘Yep.’ Pause. ‘With you.’

  ‘Oh … ? And why would you have needed one of those?’ I ask coyly.

  ‘Because I was too chicken when we were younger to act on whatever it was I was feeling.’

  ‘What?’ I ask, completely surprised by his answer.

  ‘What yourself,’ he chuckles, brushing a finger under my chin and lifting my jaw out of its gawping position. ‘I’m surprised Alastair never said anything.’

  ‘Why would he?’

  ‘Because I was always getting Ned to ask about you, to see if you were dating anyone. We were just talking about it actually.’

  ‘You were?’

  He nods and pulls his bottom lip through his teeth. ‘Once I found out about you and Dan, though, I figured that was that … I even stopped heading up with Ned.’

  ‘Why?’ I ask, pulling a confused face as I remember his sudden absence and how Ned starting coming up on his own.

  He shrugs and turns red. ‘So, in answer to your question – when I saw you on that first day I wondered if you’d ever be able to live up to the memory of you that I’d built up. You’d become like this phantom dream-like goddess in my head – ’

  ‘Oh shit,’ I blurt. ‘I stood no chance of living up to that.’

  ‘Is that what you actually think? You couldn’t be further from the truth.’

  ‘Oh shut up,’ I whine, slapping him playfully on the arm at his nonsense talk that’s nonetheless making me blush and winning me over. ‘As if I could live up to some dream version of myself.’

  My words stop me.

  I gawp at him.

  Whilst I’ve been having nightly dreams about him, he’s been having daydreams about me …

  ‘It’s nice to think we were brought back into each other’s lives for a reason, isn’t it?’ he says. ‘Like it was meant to be.’

  My mind whizzes back to the romantic stroll with Dream Brett, where he said those exact words.

  I’m left in no doubt that dreams are powerful devices. Whether we believe that they are our brain’s ways of clearing out the debris polluting our brain, our imagination’s way of running free when our brain isn’t in use in our busy lives or a portal to future events – they move us. Subtly or dramatically, they cause a shift to occur – making us wake up with new thoughts and feelings.

  Sometimes frightening us away from the darkness that we need clarity on, sometimes pushing us towards the light.

  They’re guides to what could be and what we can achieve when our inhibitions are removed, but it’s up to us to take from them what we wish – we can ignore them, or we can act on them.

  After months of dreaming about Brett – the beautiful, funny, manly, goofy piece of perfection to my right, I decide to act on them.

  I pounce on him. My lips are on his before he can say another word.

  Acknowledgements

  A huge thank you to the following awesomely cool folk:

  Hannah Ferguson – there’s a reason I always put you first in these things and that’s become you’re the one I send emails of self-doubt to and possibly drive insane. You’re amazingly kind, thoughtful and encouraging and I couldn’t ask for a better agent. Thanks for believing in me!

  To everyone at The Marsh Agency and Hardman & Swainson, for making everything easy and for talking about my books even though we’ve never officially met.

  Team Penguin! Maxine Hitchcock, Kimberley Atkins, Celine Kelly (although you’re no longer actually in the office I’ll include you in the team), Katie Sheldrake, Hattie Adam-Smith (welcome to the team), Beatrix McIntyre, Fiona Brown, the sales team and everyone in the Penguin building who’s ever been nice to me.

  To everyone on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube and Tumblr who has messaged me lovely things – I hope you realize how much those words spur me to keep doing this!

  My lovely friends – I’ve not hung out with you all in so long because I’ve been writing this book (that’s dedication). PLEASE can we go eat cake now?!

  My wonderful family – Mum, Dad, Giorgie, Mario, Debbie B, Chickpea, Bob and Carrie! You’re all superb and I love you dearly. Thanks for being so understanding, loyal and for always bringing dinner when you come over.

  Debbie Fletcher – this book would not have happened without you looking after Buzz. Thank you for pouring so much love into your grandson – it really helps to ease off the mummy guilt knowing he’s having so much fun with you and Bob.

  Tom and Buzz, my two dudes. You are my world and everything I’ve ever dreamt of having in my life. My love for you knows absolutely no bounds. Long may the love and laughter continue!

  Keep in touch with the latest news from Giovanna online!

  www.giovannasworld.com

  @MrsGiFletcher

  facebook.com/MrsGiFletcher

  Instagram.com/MrsGiFletcher

  youtube.com/giovannasworld

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  First published 2015

  Copyright © Giovanna Fletcher, 2015

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  ISBN: 978-1-405-91917-3

 


 

  Giovanna Fletcher, Dream a Little Dream

 


 

 
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