Friday Flash Fiction 36

LAST DANCE WITH ALICE
By Gareth L Powell

Jack and Alice were married in the autumn and they asked Ed to be the Best Man. Toward the end of the evening, he danced with her on the hotel patio under the party lights.

'You look fabulous,' he said.

She held him tight. She had goose bumps and the night air smelled of lavender.

'Tell me,' she said, 'how's it going with that girl Jack introduced you to?'

Ed looked away. 'We've only been out a couple of times.'

'And...?'

Ed let go. He leaned on the rail, looking out over the hotel gardens. 'Oh, she's nice enough,' he said.

'But…?

He ran a finger round his collar. He hated wearing bow ties. Inside, in the main function room, he could hear the music winding down for the evening, the DJ calling the guests for the final dance.

'She's not you,' he said.

Alice lowered her eyes.

'Look, you'd better go and find Jack,' he said.

Alice glanced at the open patio doors. She had her hair teased into short curls, her nails painted red. Her arms were thin and cold, her eyes wide and bright.

'Thank you,' she said.

'What for?'

'I know how you feel about me, Ed. But you've been great today, you really have.'

He looked away. 'Thanks for the dance. '

'Are you going to be okay?'

He turned and forced a smile. 'I'll be fine. Now go and find Jack, and don't worry. I'm happy for you both. Really.'