The Wedding Invite (Lakeview) (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 6)

by Melissa Hill

  Laura reached for her coat. “Let’s head down to Brown Thomas first, and take a look at some of the accessories they’re stocking. It might give me some idea of what I’m up against.”

  “Sure,” Nicola followed her towards the door, but moved so quickly she bumped hard against another table on the way out. She looked in dismay at the two women seated there, one of whom was mopping up what looked like spilt cappuchino. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, horrified. “Please let me get you another one.”

  “It’s no problem,” the woman said, with a smile. “It had gone cold anyway.”

  Nicola looked apologetically from the woman to her companion, and suddenly her features broke into a wide smile.

  “Carolyn?” she said, pleasantly surprised. “It is you – isn’t it? How are you?”

  “Hello,” said the woman. “I didn’t realise it was you … I hardly recognised you.”

  “Well, I know I’ve changed a lot since the last time you saw me,” Nicola said laughing. “But listen, how are you? How are things?”

  “Fine, fine. This is Alma McGuinness. Alma – Nicola Hunt.”

  “Well, it’s Nicola Peters now.” Nicola smiled and shook hands with the other woman.

  “Hi.” Alma warmly returned the handshake.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Nicola, I’d almost forgotten you and Dan were ... well, it’s so long since I’ve seen you.”

  “Not at all, it’s no problem. So tell me, how’s John?”

  “He’s fine.” Carolyn didn’t elaborate.

  “Tell him I said hello.”

  “I will.”

  There was a short pause, an awkward pause, Laura felt, but Nicola didn’t seem to notice.

  “Carolyn, I must go, my friend is waiting, but we should meet for coffee soon.”

  “Yes, that would be nice.”

  “I’ll give you a ring at home sometime? You’re still at the same number?”

  “Yes. Good seeing you again, Nicola.”

  “Are you sure I can’t get you another drink?” Nicola turned again to Alma, who smiled and waved her away. “Lovely to meet you, Alma. Carolyn, we’ll talk soon.”

  The others said goodbye, and the two girls made their way back out onto the street. “Carolyn O’Leary,” Nicola said, shaking her head from side to side. “I haven’t seen her in ages. She’s John’s wife, remember?”

  “That’s who she is – I couldn’t place her.” Laura knew that Nicola and Carolyn, the wife of Dan’s business partner, had been very close before the split.

  Nicola sighed. “She looks fantastic, as usual – and she’s lost loads of weight since I last saw her. She must have got some shock when she saw me.”

  Laura smiled but said nothing.

  “I really must arrange to meet up with her, soon.” Nicola continued. “I could do with a good night out, and Carolyn was always good for a giggle. Anyway, let’s get moving, only three more shopping hours in the day left.”

  The two girls waded through the crowds, and headed in the direction of Grafton St.

  22

  Later that evening, Maureen Fanning was shuffling around Laura’s workshop, her mouth set in a firm, thin line.

  It had been a few weeks since Laura announced her intention of going into business, and she still hadn’t managed to get over her parent’s reaction. She had asked her mam and dad to visit, in the hope that they would notice the professional set-up, and perhaps realise that she was serious about this business – that it wasn’t just some silly idea. She had spent most of the previous weekend making a selection of pendants, necklaces and earrings, and had laid them out in full view, hoping her parents would be impressed by them.

  If it wasn’t for Neil, Laura wasn’t sure if she would have the strength to continue with her plans. He and Nicola had been so supportive and enthusiastic about the idea that maybe they had instilled a confidence in Laura that she didn’t really possess. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe her designs weren’t really that good. Maybe she was mad to take a chance.

  Yet, something else inside Laura was telling her that she should go for it. Neil’s cousin had done a fantastic job with the website, and had used ‘every trick in the book’ to ensure the site would be well placed on the best-known search engines. Laura never tired of logging on and putting test orders through. It always thrilled her to see the orders appear as the subject line in her inbox. She just hoped that there would be plenty of those in the near future.

  But while sometimes her excitement soared, there were times when her confidence dived sharper than a kite without a breeze. This she knew was mostly down to her mother’s reaction.

  “Looks like you’ve spent more money on this nonsense than you have on your own wedding,” Maureen said, her caustic tone cutting her daughter to the quick. “Honestly, Laura, you’d think that making sure your own flesh and blood had a decent day out would be more in your line than all this.”

  She was still going on about the fact that Laura and Neil were only having a small wedding, and had neglected to invite Maureen’s brothers and sisters, the majority of whom Laura considered embarrassing troublemakers.

  “Mam, I know you’d like them all to be there, but we just want a quiet family wedding,” she said patiently, hoping that Maureen would notice some of her newer designs. As her enthusiasm and her confidence grew, she had become more and more elaborate in her creations.

  “But do you not realise that I’ll get the brunt of it?” Maureen continued her complaint, and much to Laura’s disappointment ignored her displays and returned to the kitchen. “It’s all right for you, away up here in Dublin, but I have to live in the village. You know how Francis treated me down in the butcher’s that time when I forgot her youngest’s twenty-first. I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life.”

  Laura couldn’t understand how her mother failed to see that her siblings were a bunch of freeloading users. If any of them needed a loan (or more often a handout never to be repaid), Maureen was the first one they turned to. If they needed a lift to or from the town, she would hop in the car without complaint and take them where they wanted to go. She never got anything in return, but for some reason was afraid of her life to risk upsetting her family.

  Laura filled the kettle with a heavy heart. Maureen obviously wasn’t going to let this one lie. “Look, Mam,” she said, opening a packet of chocolate malted milk, her mother’s favourite biscuits, “if you like, I’ll contact the Kellys and explain the situation with Neil’s mother being so ill – let them know that it won’t be your typical day out.”

  “They’ll never forgive me for snubbing them,” Maureen said, as if she hadn’t heard a word. “I’m afraid to show my face down the village now.”

  “It’s not you that’s snubbing them, Mam – it’s our wedding.” Laura couldn’t hide her frustration.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Laura, it’s the same thing. If one of their crowd left us off the guest list … well!” A look of horror crossed her features. “I’d wonder what I had done to cause offence.”

  Laura sighed. It was always the same with her mother’s relations – one would somehow offend the other, and the result could be a family feud that lasted for years. Then having forgotten what the quarrel was about in the first place, they’d all be friends again, at least until the next family member rubbed another up the wrong way. Now Maureen was petrified she would be that member.

  “Listen, love,” Joe Fanning spoke in a conciliatory tone, “why don’t we give you a few quid to put towards your day? Maybe then you might be able to stretch to a few extra relations.”

  Laura was resolute. “I’m sorry, Dad, but Neil and I have made our decision. We’re having no more than sixty guests on the day, and the others can come to the afters. I’m sorry but that’s the way it has to be.”

  There was silence in the small kitchen for a few moments, and Laura soon began to feel Maureen’s disapproval eat into her conscience. She wished Neil was here – he’d think of something to s
ay that would bring the discussion to a close. As it was, Laura didn’t even want to talk about the wedding. She wanted her parents to say something, at least make some comment about the business.

  “So what did you think of the workshop, Dad?” she asked eventually. “Neil did a good job of the spare room, didn’t he?”

  “Laura, would you … ah … would you not forget about this notion of yours, and just go back to work?”

  “What?” She spun around in surprise. What had her father just said? “Is that what you think this is – a notion?” she said, her heart constricting with disappointment. Whatever about her mother, Laura had always thought that her father – her father who knew how much she loved to sit and draw quietly when all her friends were out playing on the streets, who loved arts and crafts and used to jump at the chance at making home-made cards and decorations every Christmas – would be supportive.

  “You’re father’s right, Laura.” Maureen smiled across at her husband. “I don’t know what kind of ideas Neil Connolly’s been putting in your head, but I think it’s about time somebody put you straight.”

  “Put me straight?” Laura repeated. “Put me straight about what?”

  Joe’s tone softened when he saw his daughter’s pained expression. “Look, pet, would you not try this part-time first and see how it goes? It might not go well at all for you and you mightn’t make much money out of it. You don’t want to be putting yourself and Neil under pressure.”

  “You don’t understand, Dad,” Laura’s voice was barely a whisper. “This is something I’ve wanted to do for most of my life. You know I’m good at it; I’ve always been good at it. And surely it’s not all about the money, it’s about being happy.”

  “It is all about money when you buy a house in an uppity part of Dublin like this.” Maureen wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, I saluted one of your neighbours on the way in here today, and she looked at me as if I was a bit of dirt. Well, I’ll tell you, Laura, that wouldn’t happen down our way – down home we all know where we come from, and none of us think we’re something we’re not.”

  Laura ignored the jibe. “Mam, it’s Dublin – people don’t live in one another’s pockets here. The neighbour wasn’t snubbing you – she just didn’t know you. She doesn’t even know me, for Christ’s sake.”

  Maureen pursed her lips. “There’s no need to speak to me like that,” she said looking away piously, then added, “You’ve obviously settled in well to this kind of life.”

  Laura resisted the urge to roll her eyes to heaven. How could she win?

  “Joe, we’d want to be making a move,” Maureen said then, and Laura knew she had already lost the battle. Her parents weren’t here to see her, or the work she had done for the business, they were here to try and talk her out of it. And of course, to talk her into inviting the Kellys to the wedding.

  Laura felt disappointed, manipulated, and very alone.

  Joe helped his wife on with her jacket.

  “So, there’s no convincing you to give up this whole thing then, is there?” Maureen asked, her disapproving eyes boring strongly into her daughter’s.

  “No, Mam.” Laura felt as probably Maureen intended, that by deigning to do something a little bit different, she was stepping out of line.

  “Right. Well, we’d better go.” They went out into the hallway. “You’re finished work now for good?”

  Laura nodded. “The business will be officially open next week.”

  For a while nobody said anything, but eventually Joe cleared his throat. “Best of luck then,” he said kindly but to Laura’s ears, completely insincerely.

  Her mother uttered something unintelligible and, at that moment, Laura didn’t think she had ever felt so desolate and alone in her entire life.

  As if on cue, they heard Neil’s car pull up outside and shortly afterwards her fiancé bounded energetically into the hallway.

  “Hello, folks,” he said happily, not noticing the chill in the atmosphere. “Hey, you’re not leaving yet, are you?”

  “We have to get back before the traffic, Neil,” Joe said, looking at Maureen.

  “Oh come on, there’ll be no traffic on a Saturday, sure you’ve loads of time.” Neil somehow managed to shuttle Laura’s parents back into the kitchen. “So, did Laura show you all the work she’s been doing with the business? Fantastic, isn’t it?”

  “Great, great,” Joe answered.

  One look at Laura’s face told Neil all he wanted to know. He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

  “So tell us, Maureen, are you looking forward to the wedding? I suppose you have a right snazzy number that’ll put everyone else to shame on the day?”

  Maureen beamed up at him, and not for the first time Laura marvelled at how easily Neil could handle her mother.

  “I got a gorgeous coral two-piece and a hat. I didn’t want to show it to you yet, Laura, so you’ll get a surprise on the day. Expensive mind, but it’ll be worth it.”

  Laura smiled. “That’s fantastic, Mam, that colour will really suit you.”

  “Do you really think so?” Maureen was mollified. “Sure, I’ll soon find out when I see myself back on the video.”

  “The what?” Laura repeated, and she and Neil looked at one another in surprise.

  “The video.”

  “We’re not having a video, Mam, I already told you that.”

  Maureen waved her away. “Ah, I know you said that, but hasn’t your sister already ordered it for you as a wedding present? You have to have a memento of your wedding, Laura, it’ll be no good otherwise.” Maureen wasn’t about to have her visions dashed of watching herself over and over again in all her finery.

  Laura knew that Neil would be livid. He didn’t want to have the day recorded, as his mother was by now well into her chemotherapy, and to her distress had already lost most of her hair. Neither he nor Laura wanted Pamela Connolly feeling uncomfortable on her son’s wedding day.

  “Maureen, we’ve already decided.” Neil was firm. “My mother is feeling bad enough about her appearance as it is, let alone having the entire thing recorded for posterity.”

  But Maureen wouldn’t hear of it. “Sure, there are great wigs around these days?” she said artlessly. “Don’t you see them all the time on these popstars, and no one can tell the difference.”

  “Mam!” Laura said, mortified. She knew Neil was struggling desperately to hold his tongue. “Wigs for cancer patients are completely different. Neil’s mother is almost bald, and she finds wearing those wigs difficult – they’re itchy and warm and they just don’t look natural.”

  “Hmmph,” Maureen gave a dismissive shrug. “You’d think that vanity would be the last thing on their minds.”

  Laura’s mouth dropped open.

  “We should go now, Maureen.” Joe Fanning sensed – correctly – that they had outstayed their welcome, and he shepherded his wife towards the door. “Just think about it, love,” he said softly to Laura, while Maureen settled herself queen-like in the passenger seat, “and good luck with the other thing.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Laura felt cheated. She closed the door behind her parents and went back into the living-room, where Neil sat red-faced on the sofa.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, sitting down alongside him. “She has no idea, she just doesn’t realise.”

  “I know, Laura,” Neil took one of her hands in his and held it tightly, “but the hair loss is a big thing to my mother. It’s nothing to do with vanity. How dare she?”

  “I know that, love,” Laura planted a kiss on his temple. He didn’t often show his feelings on the subject of his mother’s illness, but she knew he was like the proverbial swan, appearing to sail peacefully on the water, while kicking furiously underneath. “It’ll be OK,” she whispered softly, putting her arms around him, but uncertain whether or not she believed her own words. Neil’s mother had another five months of chemotherapy left, and even then the doctors couldn’t be sure it woul
d have any effect.

  The wedding was only two months away, and the business would be open next week.

  Would everything be OK?

  At that moment, Laura wasn’t so sure.

  23

  “Oh, it was just amazing, Lynne. Like paradise in your mouth. And I could feel the pounds creeping on as I swallowed it down. Oh, I know I’m not heavy, but I still have to be careful … I don’t want to look like a giant snowball on the day.”

  Hearing Dan come in, Chloe sat up. “Lynne, I have to go, Dan’s here and he’ll be dying to know how I got on with it. Talk soon!”

  Chloe hung up and turned to face her fiancé. “Dan, I picked out the most amazing cake for us today – it was just unbelievable …”

  She stopped short when she saw his face. “What is it?” she asked, taken aback by his bloodshot eyes and shaken demeanour. “Dan, you look awful.”

  “I feel awful,” he said, laying his briefcase on the floor and flopping down on the sofa. “I’ve just spend two hours in town in bloody bumper-to-bumper traffic, and my head feels as though a kanga hammer has been doing overtime in my brain.”

  Chloe bristled. “I take it that dinner is off, then.”

  “What dinner?”

  “Dan, we agreed!” Try as she might, Chloe couldn’t keep the whinge out of her tone. Dan was always tired these days. “You promised that we’d have dinner in the Four Seasons tonight – just to make sure that the food is up to standard before the wedding, remember?”

  “Ah, Chloe, we can do it another night, can’t we? I’m just not able for it right now, I’m sorry.” Dan loosened his tie, and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Right.” Her tone did nothing to conceal her annoyance.

  “Ah hell, Chloe – I come home after a humdinger of a day, I’ve got a splitting headache, and now you expect me to get all trussed up, and go gallivanting with you!”

  “Gallivanting? Dan, this is our wedding – doesn’t that mean anything to you?”