Many thanks to CopyCarver who took the time to correct the original and make some extremely helpful suggestions. I am very grateful, thank you.
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I was standing at the altar, wearing my old tracksuit bottoms, a paint spattered tee shirt and slippers. As I gazed down in horror, I heard the bells begin their insistent ringing, the noise growing louder by the minute.
It was the phone. I awoke from my nightmare and groped in the darkness for the handset, my heart hammering as I glanced at the bedside clock.
'Ella?'
'Susie? What's the matter?'
'Ella, I'm sorry. I feel so ill.'
I sank back onto the pillows and sighed. 'I take it you're not coming, then?'
'I've been sick all night. I haven't slept at all.'
'OK,' I soothed, realising my best friend did sound poorly. 'Stay where you are and don't worry. We can go another time.'
'I know today was important for you. I'm so sorry.'
'Look, stop saying sorry. It's only a shopping trip. It would be different if it was my wedding day and my chief bridesmaid didn't show up!'
I heard Susie laugh softly and after making sure she would get some sleep, I rang off. Now I faced a dilemma. What should I do? Carry on with my planned day in France on my own? Or stay here and spend the day worrying about my forthcoming nuptials?
Three hours later, as I steered my car onto the Euroshuttle at Folkestone, I experienced a thrill of anticipation. I was alone, out on a day of adventure, and any fears and anxieties were left well behind. I would stock up my car with all the alcohol it could hold, have a long leisurely lunch somewhere and head back relaxed and happy.
In a month's time, I would be standing at the altar for real and all the preparations would be over. Cutting the engine, I glanced down at the wedding magazine on the passenger seat. The new edition was out and I'd bought a copy along with my breakfast sandwich and coffee. Despite my earlier euphoria, the sight of the beautiful bride on the front cover made my stomach flip with anxiety. I remembered the last conversation I had with Steve, my fiancé. I had tried to talk to him about the colour of the flowers for the church and his reaction was not what I had anticipated.
'For heaven's sake, Ella! Can't you discuss this with your mother?'
I had excused his outburst by blaming work but secretly I wondered whether the tension was getting to him, too.
I sighed and opened my sandwich. Today was to be a treat and I was looking forward to an indulgent French lunch with a delicious dessert to follow. I had been dieting, like any bride, and my figure was just about how I wanted it to be, slim yet curvy. I imagined my journey down the aisle, my long brown hair loosely falling in soft curls over my ivory wedding dress, my make-up minimal, just enough to accentuate my dark eyes and creamy skin.
I was fiddling with the rigid plastic container when a voice in my ear made me jump. 'I hope you don't mind me asking, but have you travelled on here before?'
I stared at the man at my window. Warm brown eyes stared back and I smiled.'Um, yes, lots of times. Why?'
'Is Cite Europe far away?'
'No, it's about five minutes.'
His face visibly relaxed. 'I've been sent on a bloody wild goose chase and I thought it was miles away.'
I laughed at his relief. 'I'm going shopping there as well. You can follow me if you want.'
'I might just do that! Thanks.' He grinned and I felt my stomach flip over again, but this time with excitement.
As he strolled back to the car in front of mine, I appreciated the view. Dressed smartly but casually, his jacket fitted snugly over broad shoulders, with dark brown hair cut short. I wondered why he was travelling to France. He didn't seem to fit into the day-tripper category but if he was going to Cite Europe, I would certainly notice him again.
The journey passed quickly and I tried not to feel inferior after reading the feature on weddings of the rich and famous. Our celebration was on a strict budget and that was the reason why I was going to France to buy all the wine, beer and champagne we needed.
I suppose the best idea would have been to take Steve with me but when I asked him, he used every excuse he could think of not to go.
'It's work,' he said, finally. 'You know how busy I am at the moment. Why not ask Susie to go with you? Make a day of it?'
So my best friend and I had planned a long day of shopping and gossip and I was hoping to confide in her about my doubts and fears. After the shop, we were going to head inland and find a restaurant for an evening meal. I imagined a small cosy hotel, a long gossipy dinner and then the late train home.
However, despite the change of plans, I found I was enjoying myself. The sensation of freedom was wonderful after months of preparation and I realised I hadn't been anywhere on my own like this for ages.
As France appeared in the train windows, I saw my companion get out of his car. He made his way towards me and I felt my stomach contract with excitement once again.
'You know that offer? Were you serious?'
'Yes, of course. Just follow me to the car park and it's easy from there.'
'I'm really grateful.' He squatted down and rested his hands on the door. 'I'm Dan by the way.'
'Well it's nice to meet you, Dan. I'm Ella.'
'Can I buy you a coffee to say thanks?'
I hesitated. As much as I found him attractive, I was a bit wary about having coffee with a complete stranger.
'Um, I have so much to do...'
'Please? Just one coffee?'
I laughed and agreed. He was so attractive and I felt myself grow warm at the thought of what he would be like in bed. I imagined those strong hands on my back as I slid onto him, the look on his face as he climaxed inside me.
Just recently, sex with Steve was almost non-existent. The wedding plans had taken over our lives; with him working so hard, he was tired and irritable when we did meet. It didn't help that we still lived apart but I hoped that after the wedding, on our honeymoon, we could regain that sparkle that used to light up our sex life.
I drove off the train and Dan slowed to let me pass. I found myself distracted by the sight of him in my rear view mirror and was relieved when we reached the huge car park of Cite Europe and I could turn off the ignition.
'See? It's easy, isn't it?' I laughed as he walked towards me, a sexy smile on his face.
'I'd never have found it,' he joked. 'All the road signs were in French!'
Minutes later, seated in a small café, Dan explained the reason for his trip. 'I'm Best Man for a friend. He's been looking everywhere for a particular champagne and this is his last chance.'
'Why is it so special?'
'Oh, it was the champagne he drank with his fiancée when they first met. Fond memories, I suppose.' He laughed and I liked how his eyes crinkled at the sides.
I sighed. 'That's so romantic. I wish my fiancé was like that.'
Dan looked at me in surprise. 'You're getting married, too?'
'Yes. This was supposed to have been a day's shopping with my bridesmaid, but she's ill. I didn't have another free day so I decided to come on my own. It's been fun.'
'I agree.' Dan looked at me for slightly longer than necessary and I blushed under his gaze. There seemed to be an instant attraction between us and I had a sudden mental image of us in a French hotel room, the sheets entwined about our naked bodies as he brought me to an intense orgasm.
'So what about you? Are you married? Or attached?'
Dan shook his head. 'No. I was with someone for a few years but we drifted apart. She was into her career and we hardly saw each other.'
He paused, his face becoming serious and I wondered if he had really loved her. Glancing at my watch, I drank the last of my coffee and stood up. 'It's been great, but I must get on and do my shopping. I hope you find what you're looking for.'
Dan took my hand and squeezed it. 'I think I already have, Ella.'
I blushed again and after saying goodbye, made my way to the large supermarket on the first floor. I felt unsettled after my coffee with Dan and I couldn't get the images of us together out of my mind. Why was I behaving like this with only a month to go to my wedding? Fantasising about making love to a stranger was hardly the accepted practice of a bride-to-be.
I wandered aimlessly up and down the aisles of the hypermarket, unable to concentrate on what I needed. All I wanted to think about was Dan and the way his hair fell over his eyes, his warm smile, and his hard body pressed up against mine as I moaned his name.
Deciding to call Steve I dialled his work number. In front of me was a large selection of beers and lagers and I didn't have any idea of what he wanted me to buy. Maybe talking to him would make me snap out of this dreamy mood and I waited and waited until I heard Mandy, the girl who worked on reception, answer.
'I'm sorry, Ella, he called in sick today, but you could try him at home.'
That was strange, I thought. He seemed fine last night when I called to say hello and he didn't mention anything about feeling ill.
I heard the answer phone click on for his home phone and then his deep tones as he asked me to leave a message.
'Damn!' I muttered and resorted to calling his mobile, which to my dismay also clicked onto voicemail.
I began to worry now. It was unusual for Steve not to answer at least one of his phones and I wondered if he was too ill to get out of bed. Trying not to panic I decided to leave the beer until later and made an effort to think about which wines we needed and how much champagne.
My trolley was full when I rounded the end of the aisle and came face to face with Dan.