‘Makeovers!’ Alice claps her hands together. ‘We can give each other makeovers!’
I squeal (again for Francelia’s benefit. I have never squealed in my life before, unless it’s in the presence of a spider, which is totally acceptable). ‘And have a pillow fight in our pyjamas!’
‘Midnight feasts!’
‘Ooh.’ My eyes widen, and I clasp my hands together. ‘Truth or dare!’
‘And make prank calls.’ Alice mimes holding a phone to her ear. ‘Hello? Is that Pepe? Pepe Roni?’
I pick up my own invisible phone. ‘I’m looking for a Claire Voyance.’
‘I’m looking for my Aunt Teaks.’
‘Can I speak to Connie? Connie Lingus?’
‘All right, that’s enough.’ Francelia is holding up the silencing hand again. ‘Whatever you do, please respect the other guests and keep the noise down.’
I bet she’s wishing she’d put us in separate rooms now. I can’t help feeling a tiny bit smug.
‘And please, for Carolyn’s sake if nothing else, keep your fingers to yourself.’
I turn to Alice, my face pulling into a ‘what the hell is she talking about?’ face, but Alice is looking down at the floor, her cheeks turning pink.
‘Carolyn wasn’t sure what time everybody would be arriving, so she’s provided welcome baskets packed with lunch.’ Francelia’s lip starts to curl as she points out the baskets on the ends of each bed, but catches it in time and smooths it out. ‘It isn’t as formal as the setting befits, but she insisted, I’m afraid. Dinner will be served at six in the great hall, followed by dancing and cocktails in the ballroom. Please dress appropriately.’ Francelia cocks an eyebrow in my direction before looking me up and down, taking in my jeans, T-shirt and ballet flats ensemble. I fight the urge to mimic her condescending tone.
‘We’ll see you down there,’ Alice says, reaching for the door in a massive hint for the evil one to bog off. Thankfully she takes the hint, leaving Alice and I alone to flop on our beds. This week will be fun, despite Francelia and her grimacing face.
Chapter Seven
Although the lunches Carolyn has packed don’t meet Francelia’s uber-snobbish standards, they certainly tick all my boxes. There’s a selection of cooked meats and cheeses, crusty bread rolls, mini pots of potato salad and pasta, bite-sized pork pies, packets of hand-cooked crisps, and salted caramel brownies, all to be washed down with mini bottles of Prosecco.
‘I can’t eat another thing, ever again.’ I flop down onto my pillow, ready for a food-induced nap. There’s still food left over, though I’ve managed to remove all traces of the booze.
‘Me either.’ Alice rubs her stomach, but instead of settling down for a snooze, she clambers off the bed. ‘Let’s walk off all this food and have a tour of the castle.’
She’s having a giraffe, right?
‘Come on,’ she coaxes when I refuse to move anything but my eyelids, allowing them to droop. ‘You can’t sleep the week away. There’s so much to see.’
‘Later,’ I mumble. Much later. Like, tomorrow. ‘Ouch! Gerrof.’ Alice has grabbed my arm and is attempting to tug me off the bed. Unfortunately for Alice, she’s built like a particularly petite pixie and I’ve gained several pounds during our bedroom picnic. But where she lacks stature, Alice’s determination is in abundance. I’ve never met a more resolute woman in my life. If there’s something Alice wants, she’ll keep going until she gets it. Her only downfall is her family, but they won’t help anchor me to the bed right now.
‘All right, all right.’ I wrestle my arm away, checking for bruising as I force my body up into a sitting position. ‘I think you’ve taken a layer of skin off.’
‘Don’t be so soft.’ Alice holds a hand out to help me up off the bed. I don’t take it, fearing the removal of a digit or two in the process, and somehow stand up on my own steam despite my body crying out to be horizontal again. ‘So, what do you want to see first? Inside the castle or out?’
Right now, I want to see the inside of my eyelids, but that clearly isn’t an option. ‘Outside, I guess. The fresh air might wake me up.’
We head out of our room, making our way back down the red-carpeted staircase and ending up in the opulent entrance hall. There are a few people mingling around now and Alice grasps my hand and tows me towards a bloke admiring a painting of an ugly old boot with wrinkled skin and eyes that are glaring so hard, I suspect she despised the artist. She introduces me to the bloke, but I quickly forget his name when I notice he’s wearing a cravat. A cravat! I can’t take any man seriously when he’s wearing a flipping cravat.
‘Well?’ Alice whispers when we finally wander away, leaving Mr Cravat to admire more paintings of Alice’s ancient relatives. ‘What did you think?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ Alice frowns. ‘That’s it? Just no?’
‘He was wearing a cravat.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Emily.’ Alice comes to an abrupt stop, thumping her hands down on her hips. ‘You’re going to dismiss a potential love match because he’s wearing a cravat?’
‘First of all, he is not a potential love match. The L word is forbidden during this week, unless it’s in reference to lunch, limoncello or Lion Bars, okay? Second of all, he looks like a right wanker.’
‘Because of the cravat?’
‘Not just because of that.’
Alice raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate.
‘Just look at him, Alice.’ We turn to look at Mr Cravat, who’s still scrutinising the paintings, practically nose-to-canvas.
‘What? Maybe he’s interested in the history of the castle?’ Alice flashes me a smug look, as though I’ll suddenly realise that yes, he is the perfect match. A history nerd like me! How could I not see it before? Let’s make this a double wedding so I can become Mrs Cravat!
‘Or maybe he’s looking for a bit of nipple-out-of-bodice slippage? Or a full-on nude?’
‘Oh, Emily.’ Alice sighs heavily and links her arm through mine, guiding me out of the entrance hall and along one of the many corridors. ‘What are we going to do with you?’
‘Leave me alone to my own devices?’
‘Nope. Not part of the deal, missus.’ Alice marches along at quite a pace on her little pins. ‘You’ve been single for far too long, lady. We agreed to find you your Prince Charming and that’s what we’re going to do. Stop making gagging noises.’
I snatch my fingers away from my mouth, where I’ve been pretending to stick them down my throat. ‘Sorry.’
Instead of leaving the castle through the main entrance, we follow the corridor and emerge through a door into a large courtyard surrounded by the castle’s walls. A gravel path leads to a large fountain in the centre, with perfectly trimmed lawns either side.
‘What did Francelia mean earlier?’ I ask as we wander along the path. ‘About keeping your fingers to yourself?’
Alice shrugs. ‘No idea. She’s a batty old cow. Just ignore her.’ She points ahead suddenly and picks up her pace. ‘I fell into that fountain when I was little. I used to walk along its edge, but I lost my balance that day and nearly drowned. Grandpa had to fish me out. I was coughing up dirty water and everything.’ Alice shudders. ‘Nearly dying in fishy water was worth it for the hot chocolate Granny made me drink afterwards though.’
‘I bet you never got up there again,’ I say.
Alice looks at me and makes a pfft sound. ‘Are you freaking kidding me? I was up there the next day.’ She unlinks her arm from mine and takes hold of my hand instead. ‘Come on. It’s fun.’ She’s pulling me quickly towards the fountain before I can even open my mouth to remind her we’re only a stone’s throw away from thirty (and an underarm rather than overarm throw at that). We are not children any more. We are grown women who…
Ah, sod it. Why should children get to have all the fun?
We break into a run, both determined to reach the fountain first. Alice is fast, but I have longer legs, so it ends up
being a tie. We’re breathless and giggly when we reach the fountain, but we don’t waste any time in clambering up onto the wall, arms outstretched for balance as we totter along the curved edge.
‘Why can’t life be like this all the time?’ Alice asks as she takes tiny, sideways steps. ‘Being a kid was so much easier than trying to be an adult.’
‘Speak for yourself. I wouldn’t go back to my childhood for anything.’
‘Oh, honey.’ Alice’s feet pause, and she reaches out for my hand, which is a big mistake because, as soon as contact is made, we both start to wobble. Still, Alice clings on and we manage to steady ourselves. ‘Me and my big mouth. I wasn’t thinking. That was such a stupid thing to say.’
‘Don’t be daft. Not everybody has a dark cloud looming over their youth. Besides, it wasn’t as though you had an idyllic childhood yourself. I’m glad you can enjoy the memories of good times.’
Alice was very young when her mum died, so she can’t really remember the trauma of a parent being there one minute and gone the next, but she remembers the day Francelia swept into her life and everything seemed to change all at once. Her life became unbalanced as they got used to the new dynamics at home, as she became part of a whole new family unit. And just as she was adjusting, her life was turned on its head once again when she was sent away to boarding school. Of course there were the school holidays, but she mostly spent them at the castle, with only brief visits from her father when he could tear himself away from work and his new wife. Alice once told me that when her father married Francelia, she gained a stepmother and lost a father.
‘I always felt safe here,’ Alice says. ‘The place is huge, but every nook and cranny was familiar.’
‘It must feel weird, being back here and it being a business venue rather than your grandparents’ home.’
‘I suppose it is.’ We’ve started to move again, making almost synchronised fairy steps along the fountain’s wall. ‘It’s still familiar, but there are lots of changes – all of them improving the castle for its paying guests, but it’s lost a bit of its charm.’
Alice loses her footing and we both have a major, arms-flailing wobble, our hands losing their grip on each other in the process. My heart is racing, picturing one of us taking a dip in the fishy water. This time there will be no grandfather to do a bit of human fishing. Somehow, however, we both find our balance.
‘Hey, do you know what this is like?’ Alice asks.
‘What?’
Alice stretches her arms out, one in front of her, the other behind, and bends her knees slightly. With the forward-facing hand, she beckons me with her finger.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I’m frowning but giggling at the same time. ‘You look ridiculous.’ Alice flips the beckoning finger and points down at the fountain’s wall at her feet, and it clicks what she’s up to. I splutter and shake my head. ‘Oh my God, you’re doing the Dirty Dancing on a log thing, aren’t you? No. No way.’ I shake my head. ‘I am not making a tit of myself and dancing with you up here.’
‘Come on.’ Alice pouts. ‘Carolyn and I used to do this all time when we were kids.’
‘I don’t care if you did this with Patrick Swayze himself.’ Alice and I both sigh dreamily. We wore our Dirty Dancing DVD out when we were at uni and too poor to go out on a Friday night. ‘I am not dancing with you, you little weirdo.’
Alice starts to sing the song that plays in that particular scene, moving backwards and forwards along the wall, even giving a little twirl of her foot à la Baby. I am in no doubt that this is something she has done a lot over the years.
‘Hey!’ a voice cries out, the sudden noise almost making me nose-dive into the water. I manage to keep dry only by hopping down onto the path. ‘I can’t believe you’re dirty dancing without me!’
Alice squeals and hops down off the wall too before tearing towards her sister, who is grinning at us despite the spectacle she’s just witnessed. The sisters throw their arms around each other, both babbling over the other.
I’ve met Carolyn only a handful of times over the years, first when she spent the weekend with us during our third year at uni (but I was juggling a waitressing job, a super-brief, super-hot fling with a fellow historian, and my studies at the time so our paths barely crossed), and again during graduation. Shortly after, Carolyn moved to Denmark and when she returned home to visit family, it was usually during the Christmas period, which I’d felt obligated to spend with Mum and Great Aunt Dorothy, even though I knew it would be the longest, most miserable few days for all involved. But I know Alice and Carolyn are close, despite not always residing in the same country.
Alice and Carolyn are very similar in looks. Both are petite with long, strawberry-blonde hair and pale freckles across their cheeks, and they have the exact same shade of green eyes, but Carolyn is a few inches taller than Alice, her face more rounded.
‘You remember my friend, Emily, don’t you?’ Alice says as I approach, and Carolyn smiles in a spookily familiar way.
‘Of course. Thank you for coming, Emily. I hope you’ll enjoy the week I have planned. It’s going to be so much fun, I promise.’
‘I’m sure I’ll love it,’ I say, almost convincing myself with the fib. If Alice has her way, I’ll hate almost every second of it as we hunt out my ‘Prince Charming’. I want to gag at the mere thought.
‘Have you seen her?’ Carolyn asks Alice, lowering her voice.
Alice frowns. ‘Who?’
Carolyn takes a furtive look around us and lowers her voice even further. ‘Francelia.’
Alice pulls a face. ‘Unfortunately. She showed us to our room.’
Carolyn frowns. ‘Room? You’re sharing?’ Alice nods, and Carolyn throws her hands up in the air. ‘Bloody Francelia! Sorry, I had no idea. Francelia put herself in charge of allocating the rooms. I could try to rearrange something…’
Alice shakes her head. ‘It’s fine, honestly. I think it’ll be more fun this way.’
Carolyn gives a slow nod. ‘You’re probably right. Have you got room for one more?’
Alice mock-gasps. ‘Don’t tell me you’re fed up of Piers already.’
‘Never.’ Carolyn sighs, a serene smile on her face. ‘I can’t believe I actually get to marry him.’
Would it be totally rude to make gagging noises right now?
‘But anyway…’ Carolyn’s face is alive as she grasps hold of her sister’s shoulders, giving them an excited squeeze. ‘Have you seen Tom?’
Alice gasps – for real this time – and claps her hands together. ‘Tom’s here? I haven’t seen him in years. The last time was… Well, you know.’ I don’t know, but clearly Carolyn does and senses her sister would rather not elaborate. ‘I didn’t know you were still in touch. I sent him a friend request on Facebook about four years ago, but he never accepted it.’
Carolyn’s hands fall to her sides. ‘He never accepted mine either, and he avoided all my calls and texts after… you know.’
No, I still don’t, actually.
‘But he accepted your invitation, so he must have forgiven us.’ Alice’s gaze locks on to her sister’s. ‘Right?’
Carolyn breaks the eye contact and scuffs the toe of her shoe on the ground. ‘I didn’t actually invite him. We haven’t spoken for so long and everything, so…’ She shrugs. ‘I had no idea he’d be here until I saw him out the front this morning.’
‘But what’s he doing here, if you didn’t invite him?’
‘He works here. Apparently, he took over his dad’s role of head gardener when he retired. It was such a lovely surprise to see him, but I’ve been so busy I haven’t had chance to chat to him yet. Shall we see if he’s got a few minutes to catch up?’ Carolyn links her arm through Alice’s, who in turn links me, and we start to head back towards the castle.
‘Who’s Tom?’ I’ve been a bit of a bystander during their conversation so far, but I’m curious.
‘He was one of our best friends growing up,’ Alice says a
s we head back into the castle. ‘His dad was the head gardener and Tom would help out during the school holidays, so we got to know him. Eventually, he came to the castle to hang out with us more than to help his dad. We had a bit of a foursome going: me, Carolyn, Tom and Archie.’
I’m about to ask who Archie is, but we’ve reached the front entrance and emerged back out of the castle again, and Alice and Carolyn are tearing down the stone steps. I follow after them as they race towards a hedge-lined rose garden. Working away with a pair of shears is one of the blokes I saw earlier while waiting for Alice to park the car. He barely glances up from his task when Carolyn calls out his name and the sisters tear off towards him.
‘Tom? Didn’t you hear me calling you?’ Carolyn’s enthusiasm hasn’t abated by the time she’s reached the gardener, despite his reticence. He’s still working away with his shears, pausing only briefly to flicker a smile at the pair. The smile doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.
‘Gosh, it’s been such a long time! I can’t believe you’re here.’ Carolyn’s smile is wide, genuine, and I feel a stab of anger as I watch him snipping away at the hedge. Talk about rude!
‘The gang’s back together again,’ Alice says, though, unlike her sister, her enthusiasm has dampened due to their old friend’s lack of interest. ‘Archie’s here somewhere too. We should all get together for a drink.’
‘I’m pretty busy,’ the gardener says without disrupting his snipping.
‘I can see that.’ Alice is frowning at Carolyn, who gives a small shrug. ‘I didn’t mean right now. Tonight?’
The gardener straightens and swipes at his brow with the back of his hand. ‘Don’t you have plans? Big wedding stuff?’ I see his lip start to curl as he turns towards the hedge again. Is he pissed off because he wasn’t invited? He has a bit of a cheek, especially since it appears he was the one who severed contact.
‘We’re having cocktails and dancing after dinner.’ Carolyn doesn’t appear to have clocked his resentment, even though he’s completely turned his back on us. ‘You should come!’
The Wedding that Changed Everything Page 5