The Wedding that Changed Everything

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘What?’ Francelia seems to pop up out of nowhere. She pushes her way through the crowd as the whole confession unravels on-screen and the true culprit is revealed. Archie, still on the stage and with a complexion that resembles an overripe tomato, tries to laugh it off.

  ‘It was a joke, obviously. We were just messing around. Right, Tom Thumb?’ He looks about wildly, but if Tom is in the crowd, he isn’t forthcoming.

  ‘You.’ Francelia jabs a finger at her nephew, and although she has yet to reach the stage, he flinches as though she’s harmed him. ‘You told me you’d seen Alice taking it. That she was jealous of my relationship with her father. You made me promise not to tell anyone, that they’d all turn on you if you “grassed” on her.’ Francelia makes the air quotes with her fingers. ‘And it was you all along, you little shit!’

  ‘No, Aunt Francelia, it isn’t what it seems!’

  The verbal tussle continues ahead, but I turn to Alice, who is still watching the freeze-frame on the projector screen.

  ‘I’m sorry. I tried to tell you…’ My words feel weak. My friend has been lied to and betrayed by someone she trusted, and I had a part in bursting her bubble.

  ‘It was him,’ she whispers. ‘All along. He made everyone think I was a thief, and he’s been controlling my life through Francelia ever since.’

  Alice barges through the crowd with the force of someone twice her size. I scuttle after her, but she’s a scorned woman on a mission. She climbs up onto the stage and faces her adversary.

  ‘You pathetic piece of crap.’ She shoves him, hard, with both hands, and Archie stumbles back, falling on his arse in front of everyone. There are a few giggles and a whoop of joy from the crowd. ‘You lied to me. To everyone. You made everyone think I stole that necklace, including my own father. And why? Because I didn’t fancy you? Because I saw you as my cousin? My friend?’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Archie says as he scrabbles to his feet. ‘I only did those things because I love you so much.’

  ‘Love?’ Alice gives an incredulous laugh. ‘You don’t hurt the people you love.’

  ‘You hurt me. Every time you and that silly bitch sister of yours laughed about my feelings. Tore them to shreds for a giggle.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Piers is next to Alice then. ‘Did you just call my wife a bitch?’

  I think everybody hears the crunch as fist meets nose, even those at the very back of the crowd.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Two blokes take pity on Archie and haul him out of the ballroom, while he whines about his nose and stems the flow of blood with both hands, though nobody seems too concerned about his injury. I doubt he’ll be welcomed back with open arms.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I can’t stop apologising to Alice, who still looks rather shell-shocked by the whole thing. I’ve managed to guide her down from the stage and have sat her down with Kevin, who has his arm looped around her shoulders.

  ‘No, I’m sorry.’ Alice smiles weakly at me. ‘You were right about him. I should have listened.’

  ‘I hate to break it to you,’ Kevin says. ‘But listening isn’t your strong point. Talking, yes, you’ve got that down to a tee, but actually listening – oof.’ Grinning, Kevin clutches his ribs, where Alice has nudged him with her elbow. It seems to have done the trick though, as Alice is smiling again.

  Love, I’m starting to realise, isn’t always straightforward. It isn’t always the perfect, walking-off-in-the-sunset-to-live-happily-ever-after you see in films. It can be hard work. It can mean making sacrifices, compromising, accepting the other person for who they are instead of trying to mould them into what you want them to be. But, no matter what, love is real. Valuable. Worth the risk, surely?

  ‘Alice?’ A shadow looms over us as Francelia descends. I hold in a shudder. ‘I just wanted to… To say… The thing is…’

  I catch Alice’s eye. She looks as bewildered as I feel. I have never known Francelia to be lost for words, and she actually looks contrite (or is at least giving it a good go through the Botox).

  ‘It’s okay, Francelia.’

  If I was shocked by the change in Francelia’s demeanour, I’m even more stunned as Alice reaches for Francelia’s hand.

  ‘No, Alice, it isn’t. We haven’t always had the best relationship, and I should have done more to put that right, I know that. Planning this wedding with Carolyn has been such a joy – when you take away the stress of it all, obviously.’ Francelia gives a wry smile and I’m further shocked by her teasing tone. ‘I hope one day I’ll have a little input in your wedding. If you’ll let me.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ It’ll take more than a wry smile to get Alice to agree to that, but it’s a start.

  ‘Oh, and Alice?’ Francelia has started to walk away, but she pauses and turns towards us again. ‘I won’t be interfering anymore. It seems my judgements may have been swayed in the past, and I’ll also admit to being a teeny bit vengeful.’ She winces as she holds up a tiny gap between thumb and finger. ‘That’s unforgivable of me, I know, but I am truly sorry for my part in this whole mess.’

  I hope Satan has a pair of mittens and a bobble hat handy, because I’m pretty sure hell is freezing over right now.

  ‘Then, on that note, I’d like to introduce you to Kevin Jackson.’ Alice stands up, pulling Kevin up with her.

  Francelia tilts her head to one side. ‘But we’ve met. You’re the sofa-surfing music teacher. Emily’s brother.’

  ‘Except he isn’t. Emily’s brother, that is. He is a music teacher, but he hasn’t been sleeping on our sofa.’ Alice takes Kevin’s hand in hers. ‘Kevin’s my boyfriend. We’ve been together for a year, and plan to be together for a lot more.’ She gazes up at Kevin. ‘I love him, and I want to have his babies. Lots of them.’

  Excitement fizzes up inside me, gushing up from my belly and spreading through to my fingertips. I so want to high-five my best friend right now!

  ‘I see.’ Francelia’s eyes flick from Alice, to Kevin, and back again. ‘I’d ask why we haven’t been properly introduced before – or why you felt you had to lie to me about it – but I think it’s clear. Shall I go and coax your father away from the bar? I’m sure he’ll want to meet the future father of his grandchildren.’

  Alice nods. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Wow,’ I say as Francelia marches off to grab her husband. ‘An apology from Francelia. Who’d have thought.’

  Alice laughs and gives my hand a squeeze. ‘And it’s all thanks to you.’

  ‘Am I forgiven, then?’ I give my eyelashes a good flutter, which makes Alice laugh again.

  ‘Totally. Am I?’

  I pull my friend into a hug. ‘Totally.’

  ‘So…’ A slow smile starts to fill Alice’s face as we pull apart. ‘You kissed Tom, then?’

  ‘Yes.’ My cheeks are starting to grow warm. ‘I like him. A lot. And I think he liked me, before all this Archie stuff.’

  ‘Wow, Emily. Look at you, using the L word.’ She grins at me, but her smile fades when I give a heavy sigh. ‘Blimey, you really do like him, don’t you?’

  I nod. ‘I’ve never met anyone I could open up to about stuff before. I really let my guard down, but now I’m afraid I’ll never be able to put it back up again.’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ Alice holds up a hand. ‘What sort of stuff are we talking about here?’

  I shrug. ‘Edward. My mum. Lots of things, really.’

  ‘Whoa.’ Alice’s mouth is gaping. ‘You told Tom about your mum?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Sort of? What bit did you tell him?’

  I cringe. ‘Everything.’

  ‘Everything?’ The word is uttered with reverence, barely a whisper. ‘Wow.’ Alice places her hands on her cheeks, her mouth widening even further into a parody of The Scream. ‘You really told him everything? The drugs? How your mum died?’

  I nod for each point and Alice looks increasingly shocked.

  ‘I even threw my dad in there for g
ood measure.’

  ‘Flipping hell, Emily.’ Alice’s hand moves to cover her mouth briefly before she snatches it away. ‘This is a big deal. Massive.’

  ‘I know. I really felt I could open up to Tom. I feel… comfortable with him. Safe. I’m not ashamed of my past when I’m with him. I can be myself, warts and all.’

  And I have some pretty big metaphorical warts.

  ‘Oh my God, Emily! No wonder you were fighting me on the Archie thing – you’ve been too busy falling in love with Tom.’

  ‘Hey, hold on.’ My hand is up, quick as a flash. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. That is one giant leap for Emily Atkinson.’

  ‘But you like him. You actually like him.’ Alice grabs my hands and gives an excited squeal. ‘All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. And if Tom makes you happy…’

  ‘He does, but I think I’ve wrecked it, without even trying this time.’

  ‘Oh, Emily.’ Alice’s face is a picture of misery as she pats my hand. ‘Please don’t give up now. I’m sure it’ll all work out.’

  I wish I could be so sure.

  ‘I believe there are introductions to be made.’ Roderick is striding towards us, one hand clutching a glass of brandy, the other outstretched. Alice and Kevin jump to their feet, and the introductions are duly doled out. ‘And Francelia tells me I owe you an apology.’ Roderick clears his throat. ‘For not believing you about the necklace.’ He turns to Francelia with a quirked eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes before nodding.

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’ Alice sounds choked. It isn’t exactly a profuse apology, but it’s as good as it gets from Roderick, and it looks like Alice is going to get the happily after ever she deserves with Kevin.

  I search everywhere I can think of for Tom, from the rose garden to his cottage and everywhere in between. I even have a go at finding the umbrella tree, but I soon find myself lost in the woods, with snagged tights, and make my way back out into the open as quickly as possible. Tom might not even be at the castle any more. He could have gone down to the Royal Oak, or further afield. He could be anywhere, and running around like a madwoman isn’t going to help, so I make my way back up to my room for a fresh pair of tights. Perhaps he’ll have rejoined the party by the time I’m done, and then we can talk. Again. And this time I’ll convince him to give me another chance.

  I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t.

  I’ve just slipped my shoes back on after changing into a new pair of tights when there’s a knock at the door. I slip off the bed and head cautiously towards it. There are two things I’m dreading seeing on the other side: Archie or a canoodling Alice and Kevin. If it’s the latter, Hubert and I are finding a sofa to kip on tonight. But it’s neither. Tom is standing out in the hall, my fairy-tales book in hand. He’s ditched his jacket and tie now and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to the elbow, revealing golden forearms.

  ‘You left this behind.’ He hands the book over. ‘I know how important it is to you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I flip the cover over and my finger automatically traces Mum’s words. To think I once tossed this precious book first on the fire and then into the kitchen bin!

  ‘You’re very welcome.’ Tom takes a couple of steps back, but changes his mind and returns, scratching the back of his neck as he studies the carpet in the corridor.

  ‘It’s my day off tomorrow, so I probably won’t see you again after tonight.’

  ‘Oh.’ I close the book and hug it to my chest, studying the buttons on Tom’s shirt so I don’t have to look at his face.

  ‘Unless…’

  My head snaps up, my eyes widening with hope, even though I try to fight it. ‘Unless?’

  Tom scuffs the toe of his shoe on the carpet. ‘It’s been great getting to know you over the past few days – even if I have had to rescue you on more than one occasion. I didn’t think I could… after Lydia… well, you know.’

  ‘I think so.’ I shrug. ‘Maybe.’

  Tom looks at me, his eyes boring into mine. ‘I like you, Emily. You’re funny and beautiful, and yes, you’re a great big wussy pants when it comes to bees, but that doesn’t matter.’

  I laugh, and a smile spreads across Tom’s face. He’s so gorgeous. Why the hell did I waste this week playing games with Archie when I could have been snogging the face off this dude?

  ‘I am pretty good at building fires now though.’

  Tom gives a solemn nod. ‘Yes, I have to give you that.’

  ‘And I came this close to whooping you at water-balloon dodgeball.’ I make a small gap between my finger and thumb.

  Tom grins. ‘It’s been a fun week. You’ve made it fun.’ He reaches to take my hand and I let him. As he threads his fingers through mine, I feel a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in my tummy. ‘It really has been amazing meeting you, Emily. And although I’m still a bit scared of getting hurt again, I think you’re worth that risk.’

  I think Tom’s more than worth the risk too.

  ‘Are you going to kiss me now?’

  Tom gives a slow shrug. ‘Would you like me to kiss you?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ I don’t even have to think about it. I haven’t wanted anything this badly in a long time.

  As Tom kisses me, I know this isn’t it. This isn’t the end of our tale. There’s so much more to come, and I’m both excited and terrified at the same time, but I won’t let the fear win. Not this time. I’m going to be brave with love.

  ‘Shall we go downstairs and toast the bride and groom?’ Tom asks when we eventually pull apart, and I nod, too shocked and happy to speak. But I can’t help thinking, as Tom leads me down the stairs, Cinderella, you shall go to the ball.

  If you enjoyed The Wedding that Changed Everything, then turn over for an exclusive extract from

  Jennifer Joyce’s The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea!

  Chapter One

  Mae

  Mae was in a mad rush that morning as she flitted from room to room, eyes flicking to whichever clock happened to be nearest every thirty seconds. Right now, it was the digital display on the microwave that made her eyes widen in panic as she trundled into the kitchen, dumping the armful of goodies she’d collected onto the breakfast bar. Where had the morning gone? She could have sworn it was only five minutes since she’d dragged her weary body from beneath her sheets, forcing it in the direction of the coffee machine. And now it was almost time to go and she wasn’t even ready. The caffeine hadn’t had chance to work its way into her system, even after her second giant mug, gulped down between bites of toast.

  Taking a calming breath, Mae added the goodies to the baskets she’d set out on the breakfast bar with a practised hand, arranging the mini bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body lotion to the bed of scrunched-up tissue paper among the bottled water, individually wrapped teabags and sachets of coffee. The bar of chocolate, cellophane-wrapped biscuits and stick of rock added a sweet touch. Mae prided herself on attention to detail; it was the little things that stuck with guests long after they’d packed their suitcases and returned home, the unexpected touches they gushed over with their friends and family or added to their TripAdvisor review. Although the welcome baskets she left in the rooms of her bed and breakfast took time, effort and extra cost, Mae knew they could tempt a guest to leave a sparkling, five-star review instead of a four-star, and entice them back next year – and the year after that. Mae had dreamed of running her own bed and breakfast since she was a little girl. Now her wish had come true, she would put her all into the venture and make it the best bed and breakfast she possibly could.

  ‘Hannah!’ she called as she popped the final item – a note for her guests written on a postcard with a photo of the seaside town on the front – into the basket. ‘Have you got your shoes on yet?’

  She grabbed the baskets – one each for the two rooms she had available in the house she’d inherited from her grandmother four years ago – and headed towards the stairs, stopping outside the fa
mily room where she spotted her four-year-old daughter still glued to the television. Shoeless.

  ‘Excuse me, little lady, but aren’t you supposed to be putting your shoes on?’ Mae arched an eyebrow at her daughter. ‘We need to set off for Nanny’s in two minutes.’

  ‘It only takes me one minute to put my shoes on,’ Hannah said, eyes travelling back to the screen.

  Mae’s eyebrow arched further. ‘And how long does it take you to walk up the stairs to grab them?’

  Hannah scrunched up her nose, eyes still on the television, as she calculated. ‘Ten seconds?’

  ‘And do you know where your shoes are?’

  Technically, Hannah’s shoes should be lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe with her other shoes, but Mae knew her daughter too well. Mae might be a stickler for the little details, but her daughter was not. In Hannah’s world, there was a place for everything, but nothing was in its place.

  ‘One of them is under my bed,’ Hannah said. ‘I kicked it under there this morning when I tripped over it.’

  Mae closed her eyes, briefly. ‘And the other?’

  Hannah shrugged. ‘In my room?’

  Mae hoped the shoe was in Hannah’s bedroom. They had guests arriving later and Mae lived in fear of the day one of them would trip over an abandoned shoe or toy. She did her best to keep the house in pristine condition, but it wasn’t always easy with a four-year-old tearing about the place.

  ‘So, actually finding the other shoe could take you more than the fifty seconds you have left. Plus, we’ve been discussing this for…’ Mae scrunched up her own nose as she calculated the wasted time. ‘Twenty seconds? So, really, you only have thirty seconds to find your shoe. Probably twenty-five by now. So do you think you should turn the telly off and go and put them on?’

  Hannah sighed, her little chest heaving dramatically. ‘Fine.’

  Mae watched as her daughter wriggled off the sofa and turned the television off before shuffling out of the family room and up the stairs. Hannah was four and already behaving like a teenager – how would Mae cope when hormones set up camp? But Mae didn’t have time to ponder. She had welcome baskets to set out and less than two minutes to do so. She followed Hannah up the stairs, pushing open the guest room they had on that floor, and placed the basket on the end of the bed, smoothing the bedspread with the palm of her hand. The left curtain wasn’t quite even so she moved across the room to open it a little more, smiling at the view as she did so. With the bed and breakfast on the seafront, Mae had the perfect view of the beach, with the pier in the distance, the Ferris wheel already turning slowly. The school summer holidays had started the previous week, so Clifton-on-Sea was jam-packed with holidaymakers hopeful of a warm and dry British summer. Growing up in Clifton-on-Sea, Mae hadn’t always appreciated the beauty of her little town. Building sandcastles with her grandpa, the delicious scent of sweet candyfloss and hot doughnuts mingling with the sea air, eating fish and chips from the paper with her feet dangling over the harbour walls – these were ordinary occurrences for Mae as a little girl, and it wasn’t until she left the town in her late teens, eager to see a bit more of the country, of the world, that she realised what a special place she’d left behind. Or how privileged she’d been to have such an idyllic childhood by the sea. She couldn’t imagine a better place to raise her daughter.