Wedding Season

by Katie Fforde

  ‘Condoms,' he said bluntly. 'Part of a best man's kit – or at least, sometimes. They're still in the glove box. Back in a minute.’

  Elsa used the time to make the bed more comfortable but Laurence must have travelled at the speed of light. He was back before she'd had time to miss him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Elsa woke and knew something was very, very different about her. A second later she realised what it was. The cause of this vast change was lying asleep beside her. He was, she decided, entirely fabulous. She moved a little closer to him, intending to gently wake him up but then she remembered.

  ‘Damn!' she whispered. 'Bloody packet of three!’

  She sighed deeply and got out of bed as carefully as she could so as not to wake him. If there were no more condoms there could be no more sex and she really didn't know if she could snuggle up to him without wanting it. She didn't want to put pressure on him, either.

  It was difficult not to feel smug, she mused, as the water washed away what felt like several cans of hair lacquer and, reluctantly, their night together. Her body looked superficially the same but felt so different. When she turned off the shower she examined her face for traces of their passion and was certain she could see them. 'Post-orgasmic glow' her friends at college used to call it. She'd better not make plans to see her parents this Sunday – her mother would definitely notice.

  Laurence was in the little kitchen area before her, washing up the cocoa mugs and boiling the kettle.

  ‘Morning!' she said breezily, drying her hair with her fingers, suddenly feeling underdressed in an outsized T-shirt and a smile. 'Shall I make the tea?'

  ‘First things first,' he said and took her into his arms. 'Oh,' he said a moment later. 'No knickers. How delightful.’

  A little while later she sighed, and pulled away. 'I'd better put them on.’

  He gave her a last, lingering kiss before he released her. 'Yes, I suppose you had.’

  Reluctant to leave him, she said, 'I've got a nice big towel if you'd like a shower?'

  ‘Big enough for two?’

  She giggled. 'The shower's not big enough for two. You have to watch your elbows even if it's just one of you in there. I'll make breakfast.’

  With a lingering pat on her bottom, he moved past her into the bathroom.

  *

  'I'm so sorry. I've completely run out of bread,' said Elsa when Laurence re-emerged in his rather crumpled dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up. He didn't look quite as debonair as last night but he looked just right to her. 'I usually have a loaf in the freezer I just peel bits off when I need some, but that crust was the last bit.'

  ‘Well, it's just not good enough!’

  Elsa laughed, as much with surprise as anything else. Laurence was always so polite. A night of passion had obviously had its effect on him, too. 'I know, let's go out for breakfast!'

  ‘Do you know somewhere?’

  She nodded. 'A lovely pub that does fantastic bacon rolls. It's a little way away but their coffee is really good too! We could buy the Sunday papers.' She paused. 'Or do you want to get home?' she asked, trying not to sound too anxious. She didn't want him to go – not for a few hours at least. She wanted to know all about him, his favourite music, food, what he read – everything.

  ‘No, bacon rolls and Sunday papers sound good.’

  Boldly, for her anyway, she teased him: 'You don't want me to drive your car so you can take Jamie's back to his house, then?’

  The way he looked at her, with creased eyes and one side of his mouth lifted in a smile, made her stomach clench. 'Jamie can organise his own car. I've done more than enough for him already.’

  She nodded. 'Right. I'll go and get some clothes on.’

  ‘Not too many.’

  She turned back to look at him, her head on one side in query.

  ‘I mean, it's a lovely day and it's going to be hot.’

  She laughed. 'OK, but as it is a lovely day, can we have the top off the car?'

  ‘Of course. I'll meet you down there.’

  Oh, the joy, thought Elsa as she hauled a skirt out of her wardrobe. It was rather pretty fabric. She'd made it with a remnant left over from something else. Sadly, there hadn't been much material and it was rather short so she'd never actually worn it before. Suddenly being too short seemed just right. She decided against rubbing on some fake tan. Streaky, while a good look for bacon, didn't work so well on legs.

  She should have known that sports cars and short skirts were a bad combination. She'd been in his car often enough, but it was something of a shock to realise showing her knickers was almost inevitable. Still, nothing to be done about it. He'd seen them before, after all. She clambered in and shut the door.

  ‘Right, well, it's in Bromley, just a couple of miles away. Left at the crossroads.' Having delivered her directions, Elsa spent most of the journey tugging subtly at her skirt.

  She hadn't managed to tuck it under her when she got in and now it was rumpled up, exposing more than just thigh. She didn't want Laurence to think she was leading him to something he couldn't have. Then she thought of the loo in the pub. They were almost bound to have a condom machine. She blushed with guilty pleasure. Chaste for years, she'd suddenly become a sex fiend! It was lovely.

  They were sitting in a sunny bay window, trying to do the crossword, sipping coffee and waiting for their rolls when Laurence's phone rang. Elsa ignored it. She wanted to solve just one clue to prove she wasn't illiterate and was working on an anagram.

  ‘It's for you,' he said, and handed it to her.

  There was something very panic-inducing about receiving a call on someone else's phone; it could only be an emergency.

  ‘Elsa?' It was Sarah and she did sound pretty worried. 'Thank goodness! I've been trying to track you down for ages! Your phone is off, or out of battery or something. I tried you several times and then I was forced to ring Bron. She told me you were at your ball last night and when I still couldn't reach you, I got Laurence's number from Vanessa.’

  Her phone, Elsa realised, was still in her historically correct reticule where it must have quietly died. 'So what's so urgent?'

  ‘Carrie! She's on her way to yours.'

  ‘On a Sunday?'

  ‘Sorry, she's off again tomorrow. She's going to decide which dress. I think Mandy must have made her. We're meeting up at yours at about eleven. Is that OK?’

  No, it wasn't OK. Her studio flat was probably full of traces of what had gone on in it the night before. Laurence looked at her quizzingly. She shrugged.

  ‘Elsa?' Sarah squawked.

  ‘Oh God. Yes, it's fine. We'll be there as soon as we can.' She disconnected and looked up at Laurence.

  ‘No time for breakfast?' he said, with that lethal eyebrow / smile combination.

  ‘Yup,' she agreed, but as she spoke the barman announced from the bar that their breakfast had arrived. 'Carrie and everyone are on their way to mine. It means she's at last made up her mind about which design she wants, but..

  ‘You don't want everyone to know what we got up to last night?'

  ‘I would rather not. I don't want to seem prissy but it would be a bit embarrassing.'

  ‘We'll take the rolls with us and eat on the way,' said Laurence.

  She was at the bar, paying and wrapping baps in napkins before Laurence had a chance to tell her he didn't allow people to eat in his car. She didn't absolutely know this was a golden rule of his, but if it was, she hoped that hunger would soften his attitude.

  ‘Tell me when you want a bite of roll,' she said, halfway through hers. 'I didn't realise how hungry I was until I started eating.'

  ‘Well, supper last night was a long time ago. And a lot has happened since.'

  ‘Mm,' she agreed with her mouth full. 'And apart from having to have a tidy-up to make sure there's nothing incriminating lying around, I'm really pleased to be able to start on that dress at last. She's a lovely girl but she's a nightmare client. She keeps changing
her mind about things. Well, once I've started on the dress, she can't change her mind again! I'll have to tell her.' She paused. 'You couldn't go just a bit faster, could you?’

  Laurence glanced at her, and suddenly, she wished she hadn't said that as the tail of the car went down and they roared forward.

  Sarah, Bron, Hugo and a man Elsa didn't know, but thought she recognised from somewhere, were all waiting outside her door as they drove up.

  As she clambered out on to the pavement, Elsa heard Bron say, 'Not wearing the black trousers this morning then?’

  Elsa made a face and found her keys. 'I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. We'd just gone out for breakfast. We ate it on the way here.'

  ‘It's fine,' said Sarah. 'You're back before Carrie is, which is all that matters. Do charge your phone though.’

  As she led the way up the stairs to her flat and workshop Elsa said, 'Sorry, I knew my battery was a bit low when I went out last night, but then forgot to charge it when I got home.'

  ‘Probably distracted by other things,' muttered Bron.

  When the whole group landed in her workroom the sofabed, still in bed form, seemed to scream for attention. Elsa shot Laurence a look and scooped up the duvet. Laurence started turning it back into a sofa. He was biting his lip, trying to keep his amusement to himself.

  Sarah, the soul of tact, caused a diversion. 'Does everyone know each other? Elsa, you don't know James, do you?’

  Elsa smiled at him, clutching pillows. 'Weren't you at Ashlyn's wedding? You do seem vaguely familiar.'

  ‘Yes I was. I remember you. You were the bridesmaid.’

  ‘And I was the best man,' said Laurence.

  Bron caught Elsa's eye, raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in Laurence's direction. Elsa knew her blush would tell Bron everything she wanted to know.

  ‘Hugo?' said Sarah, possibly to take the heat off Elsa. 'Do you and Laurence know each other? Hugo's a photographer. Carrie wants some candid shots of her choosing dresses and things.'

  ‘Of course we know each other,' said Hugo casually. 'Hi, Laurence. How's it going?'

  ‘It's been a bit hectic,' he said. 'I took Elsa to a ball last night and ended up taking some bloke to A and E with a badly injured hand.'

  ‘Elsa!' said Bron. 'You didn't get blood on your lovely dress?'

  ‘Oh no. Elsa didn't come with us to hospital. She drove the wife home in my Morgan.’

  There was a tiny pause. 'Good God!' said Hugo. 'I can't believe you let her… no offence,' he went on to Elsa. 'But his Morgan..!'

  ‘She drove it perfectly,' said Laurence proudly.

  ‘But you couldn't wait until morning to check, could you?' said Hugo laughing.

  ‘No,' said Elsa firmly. 'Right, I'm just going to get rid of this lot then make some tea. Laurence and I have had bacon butties and I'm desperate for a cup.'

  ‘I'd love some,' said Bron. 'I'll just go and fetch the fake-cake from the car.'

  ‘I'll go,' said James.

  ‘I'll help you make tea then,' said Bron. 'Well?' she whispered as she found some more mugs and the tea bags whilst Elsa put the kettle on. Elsa's dreamy look said it all. She suffered a twinge of what felt decidedly like jealousy. Not that she begrudged Elsa her happiness.

  ‘Oh, Bron, he's so lovely! We didn't stop..

  ‘Too much information! I should be so lucky.'

  ‘Things still not progressing with you and James?' asked Elsa sympathetically.

  Bron sighed. 'I know men are supposed to think about sex twenty-four / seven, but I think James thinks about bedding plants twenty-four / seven!’

  Elsa giggled. 'That is quite funny.’

  Bron shook her head, trying not to laugh. 'No it's not, it's pathetic. Have you got any sugar? Come on then, let's take these through.’

  James appeared holding what looked like a huge spherical lollipop on a stick and a plastic box. 'I brought the cake as well, was that right?'

  ‘Yes, fine. I want Carrie to sample it.’

  James grinned. 'And you just happened to have some handy when the word went out that she was arriving?' Bron shrugged.

  ‘Cake!' said Hugo, bearing down on the box that Bron was opening. 'I love cake!' And he took a large slice, closely followed by Laurence. The others took more modest slices. It really did look delicious.

  ‘This is to die for, Bron,' said Hugo, about to help himself to another slice.

  ‘Don't eat it all!' said Sarah. 'Leave some for Carrie and Mandy-'

  ‘There's loads,' said James. 'Don't worry.'

  ‘It is really lovely,' said Sarah. 'You're good at this, Bron. And how pretty is that fake one? How did you make it?’

  ‘That was easy,' said Bron. 'It's just a ball with icing on it. The real cake will go on this.'

  ‘This' was the pole with the metal discs that now was stuck into a stone pot. 'I don't know if Carrie will want to see all this really, but I brought it for you as much as anyone.'

  ‘If you can make the real cake look half as good as that one, it'll be dreamy,' said Sarah. 'You are talented.' Hugo, disconcertingly as far as Elsa was concerned, had begun wandering about taking photographs. 'Sorry,' he said, catching her anxious look. 'I'm doing some candid before shots for the wedding.'

  ‘It's true,' said Sarah. 'Mandy was most insistent that Hugo be here.' She sighed. She still hadn't quite got used to working with him. Her emotions were all over the place and she didn't like it. It was so much harder to be her usual professional self when he was around and yet she couldn't help secretly being pleased to see him. It was all very disconcerting.

  ‘It's useful to have someone around who's willing to eat cake,' said Bron. 'James has given it up.'

  ‘Not for ever, just for a few days,' he said.

  ‘I must get my samples out,' said Elsa, going to a huge cupboard in the corner. 'I've got four designs here and enough bits of fabric for her to see how they'd look over one another.'

  ‘Oh wow,' said Bron, looking at Elsa's drawing. 'They really are fairy tale.'

  ‘This is the one I like best,' said Laurence.

  ‘That's Lily's dress,' said Elsa. 'I've finished it. It's under that sheet over there.’

  `Mm. It's simpler than all these,' Laurence went on. 'I don't think Carrie wants simple,' said Bron.

  ‘Well, we're just about to find out,' said Hugo, looking out of the window. 'She's here!’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sarah watched as Elsa talked Carrie and Mandy through her designs. She was very impressed. Since Elsa had been forced into a bridesmaid's dress less than two months earlier she'd transformed into a much more confident young woman. She'd always been brilliant at her job but there was a sparkle to her now that hadn't been there before. Due, in no small measure, to Laurence, she felt.

  Bron had been brilliant too. Carrie and Mandy had eaten quite a lot of cake for people so interested in keeping thin, and Carrie had adored the fake-cakes and would have ordered them to go all the way up the drive had she not been talked out of it by Mandy and Sarah and a panic-stricken Bron.

  The impressive device for holding the proper cake had been admired and the designs for the final creation proved to be just what Carrie had wanted.

  James and Laurence had slipped away to the pub at the earliest opportunity. Hugo was the only man in the room now, taking photographs, making jokes, flirting gently. Sarah forced him out of her mind and went over to join Carrie and Elsa by Elsa's flip chart.

  ‘This is the one, Sarah,' said Carrie, tapping the drawing. 'Only with many more crystals. I want to glitter like a fairy!’

  Sarah took one look at the drawing and saw it was already fairly well spangled. 'Where else do you want crystals, Carrie? I can't see where you'd fit them on.'

  ‘Down the seams of the bodice,' said Elsa. 'They'll come down into a point and then flare out as the dress becomes full. Imagine a sort of Elizabeth the First busk, coming down into a point.'

  ‘She was known as the Fairy Queen, wasn't she?' s
aid Bron.

  ‘Sort of,' agreed Hugo, capturing Mandy and Carrie together, fingering a fragment of crystal-nylon that shone like gossamer.

  ‘Are you having wings?' asked Bron. 'To complete the fairy look?’

  Sarah intercepted a look of horror from Elsa.

  ‘No,' said Carrie, luckily. 'I think that would be a bit tacky.’

  Silently several people sighed with relief.

  ‘Will you be able to finish it in three weeks?' asked Sarah quietly, while Carrie was posing again for Hugo.

  ‘Oh yes,' said Elsa. 'I'll have to crack on, but I've got nothing else going on now. There's a chance I'll have a work-experience girl to help me sew on the crystals.'

  ‘And the bridesmaids' dresses?' Mandy, usually quite happy to be demanding on Carrie's behalf, did now seem abashed that not only had Carrie not previously chosen her wedding dress, but that she'd been equally vague about what her bridesmaids should wear.

  ‘They're going to be much simpler than Carrie's,' said Elsa. 'It should be fine.'

  ‘I've just had a thought,' said Carrie. There was a general holding of breath. 'While wings would be tacky for me, they'd be darling for the little ones. Don't you think?’

  Elsa was firm. 'If I simplify their dresses even more, they can have wings. I think wings would be quite sweet and they're perfectly possible, but with the amount of spangles currently on that design, they'd be OTT.'

  ‘Oh that's fine! You decide how many spangles, as long as I can have wings,' said Carrie.

  ‘Way to go, Elsa,' muttered Bron and Sarah.

  Now everything had been sorted out and everyone seemed happy, or potentially so, with the dresses and cake, Mandy looked at her watch and said, 'I think we'd better be going, honey. It's been great! You must be so pleased that Carrie has finally made up her mind about the dress, Elsa.'

  ‘I do think that's a lovely choice,' Elsa agreed, not allowing the frustration she had suffered at not knowing what she would have to do until the last minute to show. 'And if you want a stand-up ruff, let me know. It could look very fairy-like.’