by Katie Fforde
Those few minutes in the garden had been the only relief from it. After she'd spoken to Sarah, she and James had chatted for a bit longer. She remembered now that he'd said he was Ashlyn's parents' gardener – such a pleasant change from the commodity brokers, car salesmen and IT consultants she had been talked at by for the rest of the evening.
Bron, determined to let none of the previous day's irritations affect her day out in London, had got to the supermarket early and bought her picnic. She'd seen the magazine at the checkout and fallen on it.
Sarah, sitting next to Elsa and dressed in a business suit, was poring over it. 'It says here she's getting married in a "secret location". Well, they've got that bit right! Secret even from the wedding planner.’
Elsa said, 'Are you OK, Bron? You're still looking a bit stressed, in spite of bringing the party with you.'
‘Oh no, I'm fine now I'm here.' She smiled brightly. She reached across to her friend. 'That's a nice scarf you're wearing.’
Elsa looked down at it. 'Is it all right? I thought I should make some effort to brighten myself up.'
‘You definitely should,' agreed Bron. 'Now let's get this champagne down. It's not awfully cold, I'm afraid.’
‘It is awfully early, though,' said Sarah doubtfully. 'Have a cup of coffee afterwards,' said Bron. 'We're not meeting Ca- I mean our friend till when?’
Sarah lowered her voice. 'Four, and well done for not saying the name. Although it's in Celeb, no one is supposed to know about it.’
Elsa laughed. 'It is ironic, isn't it? Still, cheers! Here's to a great day out.’
They all clinked bottles and settled back in their seats.
‘So what's everyone doing before we get to meet the client?' asked Bron after a few minutes of companionable champagne-drinking silence.
‘I'm going to a fabric shop,' said Elsa. 'I'm hoping to get loads of samples for her. I've got quite a lot already but more is definitely more.' She belched politely. 'It's very fizzy, that champagne.'
‘It's supposed to be. The straws make it more intoxicating. Stop looking so worried, Sarah! What are you doing?'
‘I've got various bits and pieces that I want to find out for my sister, such as how quickly you can get a passport -why she hasn't got one I don't know. Anyway, what are you going to do, Bron? Go with Elsa?'
‘You're very welcome. It's a lovely shop.'
‘To be honest, to go shopping, in Oxford Street, without Roger, or anyone, would be total bliss. Brilliant not to have to rush to catch a train afterwards, too.'
‘Mm,' agreed Elsa. 'But Sarah? Who's paying for the hotel room? Not you, I hope?'
‘Carrie is, at least for us two. If she takes Bron on, then her room will be paid for too, obviously. If she doesn't,' Sarah went on quickly, 'it'll be absorbed by everything else. We don't need to worry about it.’
Bron sighed. 'I can't tell you how much I hope she takes me on, but the chances are minute. She's bound to have her own stylist and hairdresser.’
There was a silence. No one wanted to agree with her, but they all knew she was right. 'I need some bits and pieces for work too,' said Bron. 'I don't like buying my stuff through Sasha if I can help it.'
‘Why don't we go and do what we need to do and then meet up for a late lunch?' suggested Sarah. 'Then we can go and meet Carrie afterwards?'
‘Wonderful,' agreed Bron. 'We have all got each other's numbers, haven't we, in case I get lost and need to be talked my way to the restaurant?’
Having confirmed they had, they sat in silence for a while. Elsa was thinking about her evening with Laurence.
He'd been the perfect gentleman, taking her home, kissing her on the cheek. That was lovely, of course, but Elsa realised she wouldn't have minded if he'd been a tad less gentlemanly. A kiss on the lips would have been perfectly acceptable.
Chapter Fifteen
All three women were a little bit giggly – from nerves and the one glass of wine Sarah allowed them for lunch. They walked into the foyer of the hotel, which was constructed from shiny marble and glass. Glamour pinged from the walls as sunlight does from frost. Classical music, potted palms and beautiful young men in tail coats and fitted waistcoats added to the atmosphere of calm yet animated luxury.
Elsa and Bron exchanged glances while Sarah went to reception to announce their presence. Bron felt she was there under false pretences, although she had brought some photographs of styles she'd done, and some magazines for ideas. Elsa felt her normal black V-neck and trousers, the scarf notwithstanding, weren't nearly smart enough. As Sarah waited for the girl at the desk, so lovely she could moonlight as a model, to phone up, she offered a little prayer that Hugo's venue was a real possibility. Then another that he wouldn't announce it in front of Carrie and Mandy when he joined them later. If the news was bad she wanted it in private. She'd just have to trust him.
Miss Condy had, apparently, taken over an entire floor. Bron's confidence dipped lower. You don't hire that many bedrooms and not put a hairdresser in one of them, not if you're a Hollywood A-lister.
No one spoke in the mirror-lined lift. Apart from anything else, they didn't want the beautiful young man accompanying them to know how nervous they were. They all wanted to pretend they visited superstars all the time. No one was fooled.
Mandy Joseph let them in, obviously expecting them and not, as Elsa secretly feared, turning them away from the door when she saw them. She ushered them through a massive sitting room to an almost-as-massive bedroom. Carrie herself, looking tiny in real life and wearing sweat pants and a strappy top, was sitting on the bed painting her toenails. She leapt up when the girls came into the bedroom.
‘Oh hi! I'm making such a mess here! Now you've come we can have champagne. Mandy and I don't let ourselves have it unless someone else is here. We'll need two bottles. Are they in the fridge?' Her expression as she looked at her PA made it clear that while she was lovely and had very good manners, she was used to having her needs supplied more or less instantly.
As Mandy, equally accustomed to supplying those needs, moved away to fetch the champagne, Sarah smiled and held out her hand. 'I'm Sarah Stratford, your wedding planner. This is Elsa Ashcombe, who'll make your dress if you want her to. And this is Bron, who is my favourite hairstylist. She's mainly here-’
Bron interrupted. She didn't want Sarah to have to tell a whole lot of lies on her behalf. 'I could also paint your toenails if you wanted me to.' She smiled a girl-to-girl smile. 'It's really hard to do your own, isn't it?’
She so wanted to be part of the team and to make herself useful, if possible.
Carrie smiled back at her, accepting the offer. 'That would be fantastic – I'm making such a mess – but later! Now let's have a drink.'
‘Mandy?' asked Sarah as they went through to the sitting room where the champagne was being opened. 'Did Hugo call you? About coming this evening with his portfolio?'
‘Oh, Hugo!' said Carrie, rolling her eyes in ecstasy. 'The perfect romantic Englishman. He's so… ooh, sexy. That voice!' She wriggled deliciously and Sarah felt depressed. How could any man resist if Carrie decided she fancied them? Not Hugo, she was fairly sure of that.
Carrie was smaller, prettier and nicer than anyone had expected her to be. She was not a tyrant-princess. She just wanted her dream wedding and had people around her to make sure that what she wanted was what she got.
‘So, who's in all the other bedrooms on this floor?' asked Bron, relaxed by a couple of gulps of champagne.
‘Security, mostly.' Mandy's cool expression was kind but very professional. 'And we're expecting some of Carrie's family to visit. It makes it easier if everyone is on the same level.’
Bron felt a little better. Mandy hadn't mentioned stylists, or hairdressers, or even, rather surprisingly, a personal trainer.
Sarah's experience told her that while Carrie couldn't be sweeter, it didn't mean she wouldn't be demanding. And Mandy Joseph would ensure her every whim was catered for.
Sarah t
opped up everyone's glass.
‘Cheers!' said Carrie, raising her glass high. 'I know we're going to have a brilliant time and you guys are going to get me the wedding of my dreams!’
*
'And here's the cake I want,' said Carrie, seemingly hours and several glasses of champagne later. 'Look, I took a picture of it on my phone.’
Everyone crowded round the phone except Mandy, who was gathering glasses and tidying the room. The picture was of what appeared to be a spherical tree, like a lollipop of cake on a stem. Half way down the stem was a smaller sphere which disappeared off the end of the picture.
‘I saw it in the window of this dreamy cake shop in Vienna,' said Carrie. 'And it's just what I want! So original! I don't want those tacky statuettes of the bride and groom on my cake. I want this!’
Silence settled over the room as they contemplated the tiny image.
‘I'm not sure that's a real cake,' said Sarah, reluctant to rain on this lucrative bride's parade. 'I think it's just a fake.'
‘It had real icing on it,' said Carrie. 'You could see the little flowers.'
‘I think it might be a ball of oasis, you know, that foam stuff that florists use – iced, to look as if it was made of cake,' went on Sarah.
‘I don't think a real cake would stay up there unless it was glued on,' said Elsa. She had retaken all Carrie's measurements, just to make sure, and they had spent some time going through her sketches, so she felt she knew Carrie pretty well by now. 'It would need some sort of armature.'
‘I really want that cake,' said Carrie definitely.
A tense few seconds ticked by. 'If it's physically impossible to make that cake, it might not be possible to have it,' said Mandy firmly.
No one moved or spoke. Sarah found herself staring at the pattern on the carpet, not daring to look at her client, whom she felt she'd let down. Elsa put herself in her happy place, which was among fabric swatches, hoping Carrie wouldn't cry. Carrie sighed deeply.
‘Hang on,' said Bron suddenly. 'I've worked out how to make it.’
Everyone looked at her. 'How?' said Sarah.
‘Well, we'd need to get a pole we could fix a series of discs on to, to make the spherical shape. We'd make the cake in large round tins – or square ones – it wouldn't matter. Then we'd just cut them to shape. Or we could use one of those spherical tins people use for Christmas puddings, if we could get one large enough.'
‘But how would you get it round the pole?' asked Elsa. 'You'd fit it from the sides, in two halves,' said Bron. 'Then ice it so it's completely spherical.'
‘Well, that's amazing!' said Sarah. 'Thank you so much, Bron. I'll get you to do some sketches I can give to whoever I get to make Carrie's cake.'
‘I want Bron to do it,' said Carrie.
‘What? But Bron doesn't do cake. She's a hairdresser and make-up artist.' Sarah felt a bit thrown by this suggestion.
‘She worked out how to make the cake – I think she should do it,' said Carrie.
Sarah looked at Bron, trying to work out if she desperately wanted to be rescued or could rescue herself.
‘I do do cakes, actually,' Bron said. 'I've done some quite elaborate ones.'
‘What sort of cakes?' asked Sarah.
‘Well,' Bron began. 'It started when I was at college. Someone's little brother was having a birthday and wanted a train cake – there was a series on television and he was desperate to have it exactly the same. They couldn't get one made so I said I'd do it.'
‘Wow!' said Carrie.
‘Then I did one for my aunt and uncle's ruby wedding anniversary. That was fun. It was covered in red roses and I put gold leaf on the tips of the petals. It looked amazing.'
‘It would!' said Sarah. 'Why have you never told me this before?’
Bron shrugged. 'Well, it never came up. Besides, I've never charged anyone for a cake. They've always been presents.'
‘Well, I'd pay you,' said Carrie.
‘I'd love to have a go at it, said Bron quietly. 'I'll have to borrow a kitchen to do it in, one that's been passed by Health and Safety. But I'd see it as an amazing challenge.’
`But have you ever made cakes like that – in a professional way? It looks very complicated…' said Sarah, wondering frantically if Carrie would know or care if Bron didn't make it, as long as she got the cake she wanted.
Bron laughed. 'Not quite like that, obviously, but if Carrie wants me to do it, I'd be more than happy to have a go.'
‘I really want you to do it,' said Carrie firmly. 'You worked out how to do it and I'd really like to think that I know the person who made my cake.' She drew breath. 'In fact – we could have a parade of trees all up the room – just like my cake – with my cake at the end!'
‘Excellent idea,' said Mandy.
‘Yes,' agreed Sarah. 'Maybe we could hire the trees.’
‘What sort of trees would they be?' asked Mandy. 'Bay, or box, probably,' said Sarah.
‘But wouldn't it be nice to have fruit on?' suggested Mandy.
‘We could wire in little oranges if you wanted,' agreed Sarah. 'It could look very elegant.'
‘Elegant would be good,' said Carrie. 'People always seem to think that if you're over a double-D cup you want tacky.'
‘Or,' said Bron, 'we could have fake versions of the cake. Like the one that Carrie saw in the shop.'
‘Oh yes,' said Carrie. 'That's what I want. Really classy!' The reason Carrie had wanted a wedding just like Ashlyn's dawned on Sarah. `So you won't be wanting personalised confetti then?'
‘Nu-huh.' Carrie shook her head. 'I want to be thought of as a serious actress. Nothing too show-biz or common.'
‘That's brilliant, Carrie,' said Sarah with relief. 'That's the kind of wedding I like doing best.’
It crossed her mind that economies could be made if Carrie and her sister shared some of what a wedding needed. She'd make Lily pay her share, of course, but prices came down for things like napkins if you were ordering a thousand.
‘You could have a little bead or something in each whorl of icing,' said Bron, her mind still on cake.
‘Swarovski crystals!' said Carrie. 'Or would that be tacky?'
‘I have a contact with them,' said Elsa. 'I could get you a good deal, I should think. It would be good publicity for them, after all. And we could put some on the dress to tie in with the cake? And maybe embroider some little trees? It would be very subtle, only visible if you looked really closely, but on the hem or the veil – it should be possible.’
Carrie sighed dreamily. 'That would be heaven! As long as it's in good taste,' she added.
‘There's a difference between a bit of bling and bad taste,' said Sarah. 'This is your wedding day, you must have what you want. I won't let you do anything over the top, I promise you.'
‘The reason we went with an English wedding planner was to avoid anything Carrie's future mother-in-law could say was vulgar,' said Mandy.
‘My sister's having just the same problem with her future mother-in-law!' said Sarah, and then wished she hadn't. Discretion was supposed to be her middle name, after all.
‘So it's not just because I'm American?' asked Carrie. 'People assume I'm going to be what they call in Manhattan a Bridezilla.'
‘Oh no. Anyone can be difficult at any time,' assured Sarah. 'That's what I spend a lot of my time doing, making sure everyone is happy.'
‘She's very good at it,' said Bron loyally.
‘More champagne, I think,' said Carrie. 'Mandy, could you ring room service for me?'
‘Don't forget you have to go out for dinner,' said Mandy. 'And Hugo should be here in a minute.'
‘Just one more drink each,' said Carrie. 'Then, if Hugo's coming, I'd better put my face on.'
‘I could do it for you if you like, and finish your pedicure,' said Bron.
Carrie frowned. 'I haven't got those things you put between your toes. Shall we ask room service for some, when they bring the champagne?’
Bron shook her
head. 'I can do it with loo paper. Don't worry. Here, you sit down. I'll sort you out.'
‘Mandy?' Carrie asked, her foot on Bron's lap. 'Did we book someone to do my hair for tonight?'
‘You didn't say you needed anyone, Carrie, but I'm sure-'
‘I'd like Bron to do it. I've seen what she did with Ashlyn's hair and it would be good to see what she can do with mine.’
Sarah glanced at her watch. 'But Hugo will be here in ten minutes. Will you be ready?’
Carrie waved a leisurely hand. 'Whatever. You get used to being seen in your curlers by gorgeous men.'
‘I brought my brushes with me. I'll do your make-up when I've done your toes.’
While Bron was doing what she did so well, Elsa wentoff into a corner. She wanted to staple samples to drawings and Carrie had asked if she could name the fabrics so she knew if she was asking for organza (sheer but stiff), chiffon (fine, sheer and floaty), or georgette (drapier, a bit thicker and less sheer than chiffon).
Sarah cleared a table for Hugo. He would need somewhere to show his albums and folders. Fortunately the sitting room was amply provided with tables, especially when all the bottles and glasses were cleared away. She glanced at her watch again. It was unlike him to be late. She knew he knew Mandy and had met Carrie before but as she was organising this wedding she felt responsible for everything to do with it, including everyone's time-keeping.
Mandy's mobile phone rang. Going by what she said, it must be Hugo, and he was going to be late. 'Not a problem,' said Mandy and disconnected.
Sarah felt anxious, then reminded herself firmly that he was the first contact. She really wasn't responsible for him.
By the time Hugo turned up, Carrie was looking every inch the star. Everyone had got involved in what she should wear. Eventually an outfit in the softest shell-pink suede was decided on. Bron had tonged her hair into an amazing style that seemed to defy gravity, and her makeup was so subtle it was barely apparent.