Wedding Night

God, I can’t bear this. I don’t care how prickly she is, I
have
to know a bit more. It’s insane. One minute they’re getting married, the next we’re on Stage One of Lottie’s Breakup Process, do not pass Go.
    “I thought you said he had a ‘big question’?” I say as tactfully as I can.
    “Yes. Well. He changed his story,” she says in a determinedly nonchalant voice. “He said it wasn’t a ‘big question.’ It was a ‘question.’ ”
    I wince. That’s bad. A “big question” isn’t a variety of “question.” It’s not even a subset.
    “So what was the question?”
    “It was about air miles, as it happens,” she says, her voice flat.
    Air miles?
Ouch. I can imagine how
that
went down. Ian Aylward is at my office window, I suddenly notice. He’s gesticulating energetically. I know what he wants. It’s the speech for the awards ceremony tonight.
    “Done,” I mouth, in a blatant lie, and point at my computer, trying to imply that mere technology is holding up its arrival. “I’ll email it.
Email. It
.”
    At last he walks away. I glance at my watch, and my heart ups its pace a little. I have precisely ten minutes to listen supportively to Lottie, write the rest of my speech, and touch up my makeup.
    No, nine and a half minutes.
    I feel yet another stab of resentment, directed straight at Richard. If he really had to break my sister’s heart, could he have chosen a day which
wasn’t
my most insanely busy of the whole year? I hurriedly pull up the speech document on my screen and start typing.
    In conclusion, I would like to thank everyone here tonight. Both those who have won awards and those who are gnashing their teeth furiously. I can see you! (Pause for laughter.)
    “Lottie, you know it’s our big awards event tonight,” I say guiltily. “I’m going to have to go in five. If I could come round, you know I would in a heartbeat.…”
    Too late, I realize I’ve made a heinous error. I’ve expressed sympathy. Sure enough, she turns on me.
    “Come round?” she spits scathingly. “You don’t need to come round! What, you think I’m upset about Richard? You think my whole life revolves around one man? I wasn’t even
thinking
about him. I only called to tell you about my plans for a master’s degree. That was the only reason.”
    “I know,” I backtrack. “Of course it was.”
    “Maybe I’ll see if there’s an exchange program in the States. Maybe I’ll look at Stanford.…”
    She carries on talking, and I type faster and faster. I’ve given this speech six times before. It’s just the same old words, every year, in a different order.
    The hotel industry continues to innovate and inspire. I am awed at the accomplishments and innovations that we see in our industry
.
    No. Crap. I press
delete
and try again.
    I am awed at the accomplishments and advances that my team of reviewers and I have witnessed around the world
.
    Yes. “Witnessed” adds a nice touch of gravitas to the occasion. One could almost think we’ve spent the year engaging with a series of holy prophets rather than with tanned PR girls in stilettos showing us the latest technology in poolside towel-chilling.
    My thanks are due to Bradley Rose, as ever.…
    Do I thank Brad first? Or Megan? Or Michael?
    I’ll leave someone out. I know it. This is the law of the thank-you speech. You miss some vital person, then grab the microphone again and call out their name in a shrill voice, but no one’s listening. Then you have to find them and spend a hideous half hour thanking them personally while you both smile but above their head in a thought bubble are floating the words:
You forgot I exist
.
    My thanks are due to everyone who put this awards ceremony together, everyone who didn’t put this awards ceremony together, my entire staff, all your staffs, all our families, all seven billion people on this planet, God/Allah/Other.…
    “… I actually see this as a positive. I really do, Fliss. This is my chance to reconfigure my life, you know? I mean, I
needed
this.”
    I drag my attention back to the phone. Lottie’s refusal to admit that anything is wrong is one of her most endearing qualities. Her resolute bravery is so heartbreaking, it makes me want to hug her.
    But it also slightly makes me want to tear my hair out. It makes me want to yell,
Stop talking about bloody master’s degrees! Just admit you’re hurt!
    Because I know how this goes. I’ve been here before. Every breakup is the same.