The Best Man Who Said Nothing

I was best man at my oldest friend's wedding. I stood up in front of 120 people, unfolded my notes, and my brain simply left the building.

I don't know how long it lasted. My sister says 40 seconds, which is a very long time to look at a room in silence. I read the first line out twice. I said "sorry", then "sorry" again, then "to the bride and groom" and sat down. I'd spent four months on that speech. It had a bit about a canoe in it.

Someone's uncle got up and did twenty minutes off the cuff to save the day, and everyone agreed he'd been marvellous.

I hid in the car park with a warm pint and planned my new life abroad. Eventually Tom, the groom, came out in his suit and sat on the kerb. I started to apologise and he told me he'd known I was going to be sick with nerves, and had only asked me because he wanted me up there, not for the jokes.

Last year I joined a speaking group that meets above a pub. The first time I spoke there, my hands shook so badly that I had to put my notes down. I got through three minutes. Next month, I'm finally doing the bit about the canoe.

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