The Wedding that Changed Everything

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘I promise.’ Alice takes a deep breath and rallies, sitting up straighter. ‘Anyway, I think it’s time for bed. It’s been a long day.’

  I yawn in agreement, suddenly exhausted by my woodland escapades. I could quite happily curl up on the end of my bed and sleep right now, but I’d also quite like to change out of my borrowed clothes as quickly as possible.

  ‘I’ll let you sleeping beauties get some rest then.’ Archie crosses the room but pauses before reaching for the door handle. ‘How about we meet up for breakfast tomorrow? Say, nine o’clock in the dining room?’

  I start when I realise he’s addressing me and not Alice. ‘Oh. I’m not sure…’

  ‘She’d love to.’ Alice widens her eyes at me before turning to Archie with a wide smile. ‘She’ll be there.’ She waits until the door has closed behind Archie before she says, in a tinkly voice, ‘Remember our deal?’

  I groan and flop back on the bed. Remind me why I agreed to this nonsense again?

  I wake alone the next morning, Alice’s bed neatly made with Hubert sitting on the pillow. I’m about to roll over and go back to sleep when I remember my breakfast date with Archie. Ugh. I suppose I must turn up – my life wouldn’t be worth living if Alice got wind that I’d stood him up – but first I must shower as I’m sure I still stink of chlorine and my hair, despite running a brush through it at Tom’s cottage, will resemble a rat’s nest. Sure enough, a quick peek in the bathroom mirror confirms my suspicion. I have the worst bedhead known to man (or woman).

  The shower is an enormous walk-in affair with frosted glass panels and chrome fittings and a mosaic of tiny tiles in cream and beige shades. Definitely not a period piece. I step under the warm stream, sloughing away the smell of pool water with the zesty products I found in a chrome basket next to the sink. I’m feeling almost human by the time I emerge from the bathroom. Once I’ve dried my hair (sneakily using Alice’s hairdryer, which is a million times better than my own and cost five times as much) I pull it into its usual ponytail and dress in a navy and white printed jumpsuit and a pair of flat sandals. It’s a suitable breakfast-date ensemble and I can always stick on a bit of make-up and change into heels if I need to dress the outfit up later, though I’m sure it won’t meet Francelia’s high standards enough for a dinner outfit.

  Alice still hasn’t returned to the room by the time I’m ready, so I venture out on my own, determined to find the way to the dining room myself. I try to retrace our steps from yesterday as we went down to dinner, but my mind is a blank. I need a map. And a map reader.

  I eventually find my way down to the entrance hall, following the sounds of chatter until I locate the dining room. I step inside feeling pretty damn smug. Why couldn’t I have been this resourceful in the woods last night? Or during those horrid outdoor learning trips the headteacher makes me chaperone? I bet I could fashion a tent out of plastic carrier bags and a couple of lengthy twigs right now.

  The tables in the dining room have been stripped of their centrepieces and candlesticks from last night, though the crisp white tablecloths remain. I spot Archie immediately as he lifts a hand in greeting and beckons me over. My spirits lift when I see he’s sitting with Alice, but plummet again when I realise they’ve yet to organise their breakfast. This stupid date is probably still on, then.

  ‘Good morning!’ Archie jumps to his feet, pulling me in to kiss me lightly on the cheek before I can leap away. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked Alice to join us. I didn’t want to push you into anything you didn’t feel comfortable with. This isn’t a date. It’s just two people getting to know each other, okay?’

  I have to press my lips together really tightly to stop the grin from spreading across my entire face. This isn’t a date. This is definitely okay with me!

  ‘That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.’ I just about manage to stop myself from doing a jig on the spot. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Shall we…?’ I indicate the long buffet cart sitting at the end of the room. It’s filled with hot breakfast foods that are making my stomach growl, while cereals, yogurt and fruit sit on a neighbouring sideboard.

  ‘Good idea.’ Archie places his hand on the small of my back as he guides me towards the food. I can see Alice grinning manically out of the corner of my eye but I ignore her and help myself to a hearty breakfast of bacon, sausage and egg, two slices of fried bread and a cup of strong coffee. As much as the shower refreshed me, I’m going to need a good dose of caffeine this morning.

  Our table is near the window, so we can look out at the beautiful grounds while we eat. From here I can see out into the courtyard and the fountain Alice and I fooled around on yesterday. I push away the thought that somebody could have been sitting here watching us and dip the corner of my fried bread into my egg yolk. Tom the gardener is already out there, trimming the already trimmed-to-perfection lawns.

  ‘I really wanted to apologise again for last night.’ While I’ve been tucking into my breakfast, Archie has yet to touch his food. He looks pained, his face all lined with concern. ‘I dread to think what might have happened.’ He gives a slow shake of his head. ‘It was a foolish idea to go out there so late at night.’

  ‘What were you doing out there anyway?’ Alice raises her eyebrows at me before she bites off the corner of a piece of toast.

  ‘I took Emily out to see the umbrella tree,’ Archie says, failing to mention the real reason we were in the woods. I open my mouth to explain the Francelia situation, but Archie throws back his head to laugh, temporarily disarming me. ‘We had some fun times in there over the years, didn’t we? Hiding out from the grown-ups, plotting pranks…’ Archie leans in close to Alice and lowers his voice. ‘Playing spin the bottle.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Alice groans and covers her mouth with her hand. ‘I totally forgot about that.’

  ‘So, you two kissed then?’ This breakfast get-together is looking up. The mortification on Alice’s face makes this whole week worthwhile. I shall replay the image of a red-faced, uber-cringing Alice every time she attempts to matchmake.

  ‘Only ever as part of the game.’ Archie is lightning-quick to clarify. ‘There was never anything more between us.’

  Alice shakes her head vigorously. ‘Never.’

  If they’re trying to convince me the path is clear for an Emily/Archie dalliance, they may as well save their breath.

  ‘Oh, look. There’s Tom.’ I point out of the window before scraping back my chair. ‘I should go and say thank you for last night. I probably would have frozen to death without his help.’

  ‘But what about your breakfast?’ I hear Alice call out as I make a dash from the dining room.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I don’t actually want to go out there and offer my gratitude to Tom (I tried to thank him last night, but he buggered off quicker than a rat up a drainpipe), but I know he’s in full view of Alice and she’ll grill me relentlessly if I don’t at least appear to be conversing with the gardener. So, I decide as I make my escape, I’ll pop out to the courtyard, chat for a nanosecond (I doubt Tom will tolerate my presence any longer) and then find a hiding spot for the rest of the morning. I really want to check out the library, but fear this is the first place Alice will look for me. Still, the castle is humongous – there must be a million hiding places in here, so I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to lay low. Unfortunately, the vastness of Durban Castle – coupled with my apparent lack of any sense of direction – proves to be a bit of an obstacle when it comes to my masterplan. I was pretty confident I was heading for the courtyard, but I’ve been wandering the corridors without finding the door we’d left through yesterday, and I’ve turned so many corners, I’m no longer sure which part of the castle I’m in any more.

  Great. I’m lost, for the second time. Though at least I’m warm and dry this time and don’t have to fall on the mercy of the grumpy gardener and his wife-to-be’s wardrobe. And I’m sure if I just keep going, I’ll eventually spot a familiar part of the cas
tle (the entrance hall would be most helpful).

  I wander around a bit more, failing to find anything recognisable, until I spot the glorious sight of a Known Person ahead.

  ‘Carolyn!’ It’s been so long since I’ve seen another human being (approximately six minutes) and even longer since I’ve seen a face I’m familiar with (eight-ish minutes, maybe nine) that I practically bounce down the corridor when I see Alice’s sister, only just stopping short of throwing my arms around the woman.

  ‘Emily?’ Carolyn starts to frown, but quickly smooths her features again. ‘What are you doing here? You’re not cheating, are you?’

  ‘Cheating?’ My mouth gapes open. I am affronted. I have never cheated on anybody in my life. Plus, there is the little matter of my single (happily so) status.

  Carolyn gives a wave of her hand. ‘Never mind. Is everything okay?’

  I nod, like the great big Pinocchio liar I am. ‘Everything’s fine. Just having a little wander to take everything in. This place really is divine.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Carolyn slips her arm through mine and starts to lead me back the way I’ve just come from. Hopefully she’ll lead me back to the entrance hall, so I can start my search from scratch. I should probably leave some sort of trail to lead me back, like Hansel and Gretel and the breadcrumbs. ‘I can’t imagine getting married anywhere else. Piers took a bit of convincing – he wanted to go away and get married on a beach. Said it’d be a lot less fuss. But you need to make a fuss when you get married, don’t you?’

  I make encouraging murmuring noises, agreeing without having to lie again.

  ‘Is everything okay with you and Piers after last night?’ Carolyn looks much better than she did when she stumbled into the poolroom, and she’s certainly more chipper.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Carolyn gives another wave with her free hand. ‘I just need to respect Piers’ lack of rhythm and not try to force him to be somebody he isn’t. It’s a good lesson for married life, really.’

  Again, more murmuring sounds of agreement, but what would I know about married life?

  Unexpectedly, we turn the corner and land in the entrance hall. I’d no idea we were so close. Now I can start my search again, and maybe Carolyn can give me a head start.

  ‘How do I find the courtyard from here?’ I ask, but Francelia descends before Carolyn can answer, dressed in black from head to foot, chivvying her along and nagging about keeping a hair stylist waiting for their rehearsal.

  ‘Have you seen your sister?’ Francelia asks as she practically frogmarches Carolyn away.

  ‘Not since first thing. Maybe Emily has seen her.’

  ‘Who?’ I try not to take offence. ‘Oh! Of course!’ Francelia turns on a sixpence and stalks back towards me. I instinctively cower and blurt the information before she can reach me.

  ‘She was in the dining room the last time I saw her.’ Please don’t hurt me, I add silently. She’s that terrifying.

  ‘Oh, fantastic,’ Francelia grumbles as she turns again and stalks back towards Carolyn. ‘Stuffing her face, no doubt. What did I tell her about putting on weight before the Big Day? So help me if her dress doesn’t fit.’

  Her voice fades as they’re swallowed by one of the corridors.

  Oh, crap. I’m back at square one and don’t have a clue which direction to head in.

  I eventually stumble across the door leading out to the courtyard, but it’s empty, Tom probably long gone. Oh well. It isn’t as though Alice will be able to check on me anyway, what with Francelia hunting her down. But what should I do now? Alice will be busy doing wedding stuff with her sister so I don’t have to hide away from her, but I don’t fancy spending the rest of the morning with Archie, as nice as he’s been so far. Yes, he’s good-looking and considerate and a good friend to Alice, but I’m just not interested.

  Retracing my steps back through the castle, I miraculously find my way back up to my room and spot the Tudor romance I brought with me. Hiding away in the library may be too risky, but I can do the next best thing and take my book outside for a little read. There can’t be a better setting, surely? Perhaps I’ll hide away at the umbrella tree, assuming I can find it again. Grabbing the book from my bedside table, I spot the neatly folded-up clothes I borrowed last night. I’ll need to return them, and what better time to do so than when I know Tom is working? I’ll leave them on his doorstep – with a thank you note. I’m not completely without manners – meaning I won’t even have to try to have a conversation with the joy vacuum.

  I find the poolroom easily enough and slip out of the door at the back. The little wood is ahead and doesn’t look quite as far away – or intimidating – as it had seemed in the dark last night. I have two choices now: take a shortcut through the woods (and perhaps stumble upon the umbrella tree) or take the option that is less likely to confuddle me and skirt around the perimeter until I find Tom’s cottage. The second option is the most sensible by far, but when have I ever listened to sense?

  I make it to the woods easily enough, but soon discover that all the trees look the same – even in the daylight – and I didn’t leave any helpful flip-flop-shaped footprints in the mulch last night, unfortunately. I could rethink my plan and go with the second option of skirting around the woods, but I’m not that sensible, so I forge ahead, eyes peeled for anything that looks vaguely familiar. It isn’t long before I’m completely lost for the second time that morning (third overall, if we’re keeping count).

  Bugger.

  My only option is to pick a direction and head into it, hoping to emerge from the woods without being eaten by the Big Bad Wolf. Once I’m out in the open, I can circumnavigate the woods until I spot the cottage (which can’t be that hard – it isn’t nearly as ginormous as the castle, but even I’m not that much of a doofus as to miss it). My plan seems foolproof, yet I’m still stumbling over sneaky tree roots twenty minutes later. What the frog? How big is the woods? It appeared to be a smallish gathering of trees from the castle, but have I somehow stumbled into Nottingham bleeding Forest? I have embarrassingly poor navigation skills and am beginning to suspect I will slowly starve to death out here and that my only hope is being discovered by a ravenous wolf who will put me out of my misery.

  Or I could do the unthinkable and phone Alice and admit I’m lost in the woods. Again.

  Decisions, decisions.

  I pull my mobile out of my pocket, half hoping there won’t be a signal, and tap on my contacts. I press the phone to my ear as it rings Alice’s number.

  ‘Emily? Where are you? I’ve been looking all over for you! I thought you were going to talk to Tom, but I’ve just seen him and he hasn’t spoken to you since last night.’ He barely spoke to me even then, unless it was to tell me off like a naughty schoolgirl. ‘You need to get to the games room, and fast. There are at least eight men in there who I think have “Prince Charming” written all over them. Where are you? Do you know the way?’ Alice has been babbling on without pausing for breath, so I have yet to slip in my plea for help, but now I think I’d rather let the ravenous wolf end me.

  ‘I’m a bit busy at the moment, actually.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  Searching for a wolf with extra-sharp teeth to sink into my throat?

  ‘I’m in the library.’ Well, books are made from trees and I do have my Tudor romance tucked under my arm, so it’s not really a lie.

  ‘This isn’t the time for reading. You need to get back over here. We have a deal, remember?’

  How could I forget? ‘I’m not actually reading. I’m here with a man.’

  ‘A man? What man? What’s his name? Do I know him? Does this mean you’re not interested in Archie?’

  Whoa! Slow down, woman!

  ‘He’s one of Piers’ relatives. A second cousin.’ I lean against a tree and sink down slowly, ignoring the sharp twig digging into my arse cheek as I reach the ground.

  ‘I don’t know many of Piers’ relatives. What’s he called?’

  ‘He’s
called…’ I try to shift to a more comfortable position. ‘Twiggy.’

  ‘Twiggy?’

  ‘It’s a nickname.’

  ‘No kidding.’ I can imagine Alice rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. ‘But I thought you hated silly nicknames?’

  ‘I do. With a passion. I imagine this one will become quite a pain in the arse.’ I grab the offending twig and toss it aside. ‘But he seems nice despite the ridiculous name.’

  Alice squeals and I pull the phone away from my ear momentarily. ‘This is amazing. I’ve never known you to put aside one of your ridiculous dating rules.’ Erm, excuse me? Not tolerating silly nicknames is not a ‘ridiculous’ dating rule! ‘He must be really special. Forget about these pool-playing bozos. Twiggy could be The One!’

  I highly doubt it.

  ‘I’ll let you get back to your beau, but I want all the details later.’ Alice squeals again before hanging up.

  Great, so I’m still lost and now I have a pretend love interest. What am I going to do if Alice asks to meet my new stickman friend?

  Chapter Fifteen

  My bum is damp from sitting on the woods’ mulchy floor. If I ever make it out of here, I’ll definitely have to change out of this jumpsuit for dinner. I drag myself up onto my feet and slip my phone back into my pocket while trying to figure out which way I was heading before my genius decision to phone Alice. I really have no idea – is it any wonder I ended up lost? I’ve probably been walking around in circles.

  Right. Pick a direction and go.

  I set off again, concentrating more on the view ahead than my footwork. I might trip over a tree root and break my ankle, but it’s a chance I have to take if I ever want to make it out into the open again. I’ve only taken a dozen or so careful steps when I hear a sound, a sort of loud snapping noise, and feel a mix of relief and fear. What’s up ahead? Friend or foe? Human or wolf? Taking extra-careful steps, I edge closer to the noise, which I hear again and again. As the sound grows louder, I start to hear other sounds too; rustling, metallic clatters, the words ‘twat muffin’.