Lucy in the Sky

of the most dazzling displays I’d ever seen. Sam, Molly and I had gone to Circular Quay with the rest of Sydney and had found ourselves a tiny patch of pavement on Fleet Steps, just outside the Botanic Gardens’ gates on the other side of the harbour. Actually, in the exact same place where the marquee will be tomorrow, I realise now with surprise. We’d stood together, Molly and I on either side of Sam, and watched the fireworks, getting emotional as we listened to Elton John’s ‘English Rose’ version of ‘Candle In The Wind’ and INXS’s ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ on the multiple radios people had brought with them. That night Mum and I were staying at a hotel in the Rocks area and Molly and Sam were going back to Manly by ferry. We hugged as if it were the last time we’d ever see each other, all three of us in tears. Then I stood alone and watched them board the ferry and wave to me from the lower deck as the departing boat churned up the wake in the harbour.
    Molly pauses, as if contemplating whether to tell me something.
    ‘Why do you ask?’ I prompt.
    Again she remains silent. I wait patiently for her to speak. Finally she looks at me.
    ‘I think Sam was in love with you.’
    ‘ What? ’ I almost fall off the bed.
    ‘I think he realised after you left.’ She looks wounded, and I don’t know what to say.
    ‘But that doesn’t make sense; he was never into me!’
    ‘I think that all changed once he realised he’d lost you.’
    I can’t believe it. After all those years of gut-wrenchingly painful, unrequited love, he felt the same for me after I left?
    ‘Does…he…’ I can’t ask the question.
    ‘No, I don’t think so.’ Relief is apparent on her face.
    ‘Phew,’ I say. And find I really and truly mean it.
    Molly leans over and wraps her arm around my neck and I thank my lucky stars that it all worked out right in the end. We might so easily have lost our friendship if I’d stayed.
    ‘I’m really pleased you’re here. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have with me tomorrow.’ Her voice is muffled.
    ‘I hope you’ll do the same for me when I get married,’ I struggle to say, my breath being squeezed out of me by her hug.
    If I ever get married.
     
    In the morning all hell breaks loose.
    ‘I want to go on the train! I want to go on the train!’ Andie is screaming.
    ‘We’ll be going on it in a couple of hours,’ Molly states with exasperation.
    ‘I want to go NOW!’
    ‘Andie, you’re just going to have to behave for Molly today,’ Sheila tells her firmly. Andie snatches the hairbrush out of her mum’s hands and throws it across the room. It narrowly misses a vase full of flowers.
    ‘Look! I won’t let you be my bridesmaid if you don’t behave!’ Molly shouts. ‘I’ll just have Lucy. I only need one. Sam’s only got his brother.’
    ‘But I’m your sister !’ Her bottom lip starts to quiver.
    ‘Well, start acting like one!’ Molly yells.
    ‘Hush, hush,’ Sheila soothes them both as she goes to retrieve the hairbrush.
    ‘Do you want me to do your hair?’ I ask Andie sweetly. ‘We could plait it?’
    ‘No. I want Mum to do it!’ She points at Sheila. Molly and I look at each other, unamused. Then the doorbell rings to announce the arrival of the make-up artist.
    Three-quarters of an hour later, after the make-up artist has departed, Molly stands surveying herself in front of the mirror.
    ‘I look like a CLOWN!’ she yells.
    ‘Molly, you do not!’ Sheila shouts.
    ‘I do! I’m taking it off!’ She stomps up the stairs and Sheila gives me a look. I hurry after her. Molly is on the verge of tears in the bathroom. She’s right; the make-up artist has gone way overboard. The foundation is too dark and the blusher is too bright. Even the eyeliner looks wrong on Molly’s eyes.
    I opted to do my own make-up for a very good reason. I’ve always wondered how someone who’s never met you before can know what’s right for you on one of the most important days of your life.
    ‘Let me help you,’ I offer. ‘Shall we take it off and start again?’
    Molly nods dolefully.
    ‘Okay. Where’s your normal foundation?’
    Half an hour later both of our make-up bags have been put to excellent use and Molly now looks like a beautifully– subtly –blushing bride. We’ve opted for a pretty creamy-beige sheen over her lids and dark brown mascara. Light apricot blusher and a rosy shade of lippy complete her look. Nothing too Coco the