by Katie Fforde
‘Dad' nodded obligingly. 'We'd better let them get one drink down them though. My speech won't stand up to total teetotalness.’
Sarah smiled and patted his shoulder, wishing she didn't have to stick to total teetotalness herself. 'OK.' She perched on the edge of her seat and got out her mobile phone, hoping no one was looking and would think her rude. She tried the Somerby number but couldn't get an answer so she pressed in Hugo's number almost instinctively. He'd know what to do. 'Hugo?' she whispered, leaning down as if she was picking up her napkin. 'We've only just sat down but I should be able to set off from here in about fifteen minutes.'
‘Ri… ght,' said Hugo, in a way that meant it was not right. 'Carrie's not frightfully happy at the moment. No chance you can get here a little sooner?’
Sarah took in all the unexpressed urgency – she understood 'not frightfully happy' meant 'in a major strop' and knew she had to get there instantly, if not before. If Carrie got really upset with Sarah for not being there and refused to pay, it would bankrupt her and ruin her reputation. She'd had an instalment of her fee, but not enough to pay all the suppliers.
‘I'll have to leave now then. I was going to stay to hear my dad's speech.’
There was a pause and then Hugo said, 'Listen, you stay where you are. I'll collect you.'
‘But, Hugo, there's an hour between us, it won't be any quicker if you come and fetch me – longer in fact.'
‘Stay where you are. I'll come and get you. Trust me.’
He disconnected, leaving Sarah to wonder if she could in fact trust him or not. Well, she would just have to. It was bad news that Carrie was so upset. She'd known it was possible, of course. It wasn't that celebrities were any more difficult than anyone else, but they were used to a certain standard. And if Sarah had paid for a service she'd be very annoyed if she didn't really get it, even though everything had been left in good hands. It was always going to be tight but it would have been just about doable if the service hadn't gone on so long. But it had. And now she was in a major bind, torn between letting down her sister and her biggest-ever client. Although, to be fair, her sister was being brilliant about it.
Sarah stayed seated, drumming her fingers on the table for a few seconds before she realised what she was doing and stopped. 'Please get your food faster,' she silently urged the guests. 'Drink up!' She took a sip of her wine, forgetting for a moment that she wasn't going to. Forcing her mind away from her anxieties she remembered how pleased she'd been to find the wine at a supermarket. She'd tasted it in the car park, found out it was all right, and then gone back in and cleared the shelves. It was less than half price once the reduction for quantity had been taken into consideration.
The Catering Ladies were doing a very good job. She saw a wodge of sandwiches being delivered over several hats to some surprised relations who were having a good catchup. Then she noticed Veronica coming towards the top table with plates in her hands. Smoked salmon and salad -perfect! She'd explained how unhappy Mrs Boscastle had been with the buffet idea and now she might be fooled into thinking she'd got her own way in the matter after all.
Sarah chatted to her father and stepmother, trying to hide from them her anxiety about Carrie's wedding. A helicopter went overhead just as her stepmother was telling her something about buying her outfit and her decision not to wear a hat but, instead, a fascinator. Sarah nodded and smiled and hoped she wasn't supposed to be sympathetic. Inside, she was dying with anxiety and knew if such a thing were actually possible, she'd be dead in minutes.
As she turned to the neighbour on her right, hoping to take her mind off her increasing panic, there was a tap on her shoulder. It was Hugo. In person.
‘How on earth-'
‘Come on. Say goodbye as quickly as you can. I've got a taxi waiting.'
‘A taxi? Hugo..
It was only after she left the tent that she realised she hadn't actually said goodbye to anyone. She'd glimpsed Lily waving merrily at her, and flapping her towards the door. When Sarah had turned Lily had kissed her hands to her and Sarah knew that one wedding at least would be all right.
She was about to ask Hugo how he'd got there, when she was ushered firmly into the back of a taxi.
Hugo got in next to her. 'Fast as you can, mate,' he said to the driver, who, engine already running, sped forward.
‘It's not going to be any quicker to get there by taxi,' Sarah complained, 'and a whole lot more expensive. Although I must say, he has got you here very quickly. I wasn't expecting you for an hour at least.'
‘Which would have been far too late and which is why we're not going by taxi.'
‘What do you mean? This is a taxi!' Nerves were making her tetchy.
‘Yes,' he said patiently, 'but it's taking us somewhere else.'
‘Don't tell me there's an express train?' Her mind whirled around uselessly. Did this mean she could have got to Somerby, or at least the nearest town, in record time? 'Not a train, a helicopter.’
Chapter Forty-One
Up until that point in her life Sarah had always believed she would only go in a helicopter if she were on a sinking ship. Now she discovered that sinking ships could be metaphorical.
She closed her eyes as the taxi nipped round the back to a playing field where a helicopter, hardly bigger than a dragonfly to Sarah's panic-stricken eyes, whirred impatiently.
‘Keep to the front of the aircraft, out of the way of the rear rotor blade,' Hugo shouted into her ear.
Then he shoved her in the direction of the open door. She put her foot on the rail and scrambled in, her dress riding up horribly as she did so.
‘Shove up,' Hugo commanded and she shuffled over to the second seat. He did up her seatbelt for her and handed her a headset. 'Put these on, then we can talk.’
Sarah put on her headset and, moments later, the helicopter rose into the air. Just for a second Sarah saw the ground get farther away and then she closed her eyes and gripped on to Hugo's hand with both of hers.
‘Are you OK?' he asked her.
‘I'll be fine once we're there,' she said, her eyes clamped shut.
‘Not keen on flying?' asked the pilot.
‘Not really,' Sarah managed. 'But I'll be fine.'
‘We're really lucky Bob hung around for a few moments after he'd dropped off Carrie and Mandy. He's got to pick up some of their guests later,' said Hugo. 'I was able to nab him.'
‘Mm,' said Sarah, knowing she should be enthusing about this stroke of luck but not able to do so at just that moment.
‘Presumably you want to go straight to the hotel where Carrie's getting ready? We'll be there in about twenty minutes,' Hugo went on.
Sarah opened her eyes for a giddy-making second. 'Oh, that is good.' Then she closed them again.
‘Carrie only arrived about half an hour ago. I think Elsa wanted to get cracking on the dress straightaway.'
‘I should think Bron wanted to do her hair and make-up, too. I wonder if it was wrong of me to ask her to get involved?' Sarah was clinging on tight, her life and all her mistakes passing before her eyes behind her eyelids.
‘She's done a brilliant job on the cakes, and helped with the flowers. And she is a hairdresser and make-up artist, isn't she?’
`Mm.'
‘Well then.'
‘And Elsa, those last-minute bridesmaids..
‘Sorted. She dressed them up at the house before taking the dress over to wait for Carrie at the hotel. Even the photographer is quite good.' This raised a faint smile from Sarah. 'So, you don't have to worry about anything except getting Carrie on side again.'
‘That's quite bad enough,' she squeaked.
‘Oh good,' said the pilot, 'it's all still clear for landing. There seem to be a good few paps there, but they know better than to get in the way of the blades.'
‘They'll all think you're a celebrity,' said Hugo.
‘If that's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't.' Hugo laughed.
Once Sarah had taken off
her headset she became aware of how noisy the helicopter would have been without one. She followed Hugo out of the door and he hurried her to the front of the helicopter. 'You go inside, I'll just have a word with Bob. Go and make your peace with Carrie.’
Sarah's last thought before she hurried into the hotel was that she must ask Hugo how much that had all cost.
The fact that she had arrived by helicopter and that the people on reception eventually remembered meeting her before, when she had checked out the hotel, meant she was ushered to Carrie's suite without too much fuss. She knocked on the door and Mandy opened it.
‘Carrie!' Sarah was aware she had mud on her shoes, her fascinator was askew and she must have looked as if she'd been drinking. 'I am so sorry! How can I apologise enough? I was at my sister's wedding and I couldn't get away sooner.’
Carrie turned carefully towards her. She was wearing silk and lace cami-knickers, lace-topped white stockings and suspenders. Her hair was being divided into sections and some of it was in huge rollers. 'Your sister's wedding? Oh, honey! You had told me and I'd completely forgotten! On the same day as mine? What are the chances of that happening?’
Sarah shrugged and raised her palms in philosophical acceptance. 'Obviously better than any of us would have thought. Anyway, I'm so sorry..
Mandy said, 'Here, have a glass of champagne, everything is cool here.' She smiled and Sarah knew that she was forgiven, but that from now on she needed to be fully in control. Nothing was going to mar this wedding, not if she was in charge. She took the glass that she offered and sipped gratefully. It was time to do what she did best.
‘The security guys kept the press under control?' Sarah knew if this had gone wrong, Carrie's wedding day could have been ruined.
‘Oh yes,' said Mandy. 'They knew what they were doing.’
‘And your final dress fitting went well?' This was the second in the list of potential disasters.
‘Yup,' said Carrie. 'Elsa did a great job. She's getting ready in the bathroom.’
Sarah chided herself for doubting Elsa.
Carrie went on, 'We all came over here in two cars-’
‘One for us and one for the dress,' said Mandy.
‘Then I started to get ready,' said Carrie.
Sarah took another gulp of champagne, knowing it really should be water but needing it just at this moment. 'And the horse and carriage are here?'
‘Ready and waiting,' said Mandy. 'We saw it as we came in. We thought Bron had taken the crimpers to the horse's mane, but apparently they always curl like that.'
‘I think someone probably did something to it,' said Bron. 'But it did look beautiful.’
Elsa appeared from the bathroom and she and Sarah hugged. 'You got here!’
Sarah nodded. 'By helicopter. I was terrified, clung on to Hugo all the way.'
‘He's been brilliant,' said Elsa.
‘He's a really great guy,' said Carrie from the dressing table. 'He's taken lots of informal shots already. I'm glad we didn't get anyone else as well. He's so cool.’
Sarah nodded, draining her glass. He was indeed very cool. And very kind, and she was totally in love with him. She hadn't meant to fall in love, it had just crept up on her and despite her determination never to let her guard down ever again, she had. But it was no good; she could love him all she liked but he was engaged to someone else, even ifthat someone was wrong for him, and she just had to accept it and move on.
*
Everything looked perfect, thought Sarah as she walked through the house. She had already gone through the checklist with Fenella. Apart from the florist catastrophe, everything had gone to plan. The band had turned up and were looking extremely smart with a particularly glamorous lead singer. The caterers were so efficient they seemed to glide about on wheels, and no one had thrown a major tantrum. Now she was going to check every detail herself, down to the last service sheet.
She started at the chapel from the outside door end. The flowers were fantastic. No one with any amount of imported blooms could have done better than Sukie had. Sarah looked first at the arrangement by the font. Great swathes of bluey-grey rose foliage offset scarlet hips that backed an extravagant and sweeping arrangement that was like a wild hedgerow, although on closer inspection, Sarah spotted bought flowers in among the wilderness. It was perfect: high summer on a stand. There was another arrangement by the font and another by the altar. The arrangements at the pew ends were mostly trailing ivy, but looked romantic and definitely on purpose. Only someone with Sarah's experience would know that this was a trick to eke out the flowers.
From the chapel, she moved through to the house. The drawing room was still lovely, and the dining room, now filled with tables covered with sparkling glass and silver, was a wonderful setting for the cake and the double row of smaller, fake versions. She inspected the cake at close quarters and saw how perfect each little icing flower was, with its crystal centre. Bron definitely had a new career waiting for her if she wanted one.
The morning room, where people were to drink champagne until the call to dinner, shone. This was also where people not invited to the actual ceremony would gather until it was over. Several young men in elegant black uniforms were polishing glasses, prepared to serve champagne to all the guests as near simultaneously as possible.
Usually Sarah would have briefed them, but this time she'd had to depend on Jess Allsop, the owner of the catering company, a woman she knew well and had worked with often. When Sarah gave the word, these men would spring into action and every guest would have a glass within seconds.
Sarah found Jess, smartly suited and calm, with Fenella. 'We were a bit worried you wouldn't make it,' said Fenella. 'Although we'd have been fine without you, Carrie really wanted you to be here.' Jess and Fenella exchanged friendly glances.
Sarah was pleased to see that everyone was getting on well and working as a team.
‘And Celeb magazine have been looked after?' asked Sarah.
‘There are place names on the pews. They've got two,' said Fenella. 'They took some shots earlier but I think they're going to use Hugo's. Should earn him a bit of pocket money.'
‘Absolutely!' agreed Jess.
Upstairs Fenella and Rupert's room was looking tidy and welcoming. It was where Carrie would be remade-up after the ceremony and before the reception. She would change out of her wedding dress here too and, if she needed a break, she had somewhere to escape to. Someone, Elsa, Sarah suspected, had tidied it before taking Carrie's dress to the hotel.
‘Has anyone seen the groom?' she asked Fenella. 'Rupert has. They're being kept well apart at the hotel. It was so brilliant you got here on time!'
‘I couldn't have done it without the helicopter,' said Sarah and told Fenella the story.
*
Sarah waited at the door of the chapel, looking down the gentle curve of the hill to where the horse and carriage were coming up. She could see that Elsa's creation looked truly Faerie-Queen-like and the horse and carriage were the perfect vehicle for such an ethereal bride.
The security people had dealt with the paparazzi, presumably having let them get the agreed shots. Sarah didn't have to worry about anything now, except the ceremony and the reception.
Elsa and Bron had slipped into their places. They'd had a rush at the end and had barely had time to get into their own clothes. Elsa, Sarah noted, was wearing her ball gown, appropriate for an evening event. Sarah had meant to change out of the outfit she'd worn for Lily's wedding into something more formal, but it was too hot for confining garments and magic knickers. It had all been a frightful rush, but now she could focus. She knew that Hugo was somewhere about. They'd exchanged glances earlier and he'd given her a warm, encouraging smile. Just knowing he was around made her feel better, more confident.
The long-haired pony seemed to take for ever to come up the hill but Sarah realised it only seemed like that because she'd been rushing about so much. She could see Hugo now, taking photographs, naturally. S
he owed him a huge debt of gratitude. How could she repay him? Nothing she could think of doing seemed like half enough.
She looked back into the chapel and saw Carrie's handsome groom. He was chatting and laughing to his best man, far more confident than Dirk had looked. Sarah realised she recognised the best man and tried to remember what film or television programme she'd seen him in. It was a way of occupying her mind as the little horse clip- clopped its way up.
All the guests were pretty glamorous too. It was a small wedding, considering, but the spend per outfit would almost have covered the entire cost of Lily's budget affair.
She turned her mind back to that very different wedding. What were they getting up to now? Dancing, she hoped, to the CD the bride and groom had made together, marking the progression of their romance with the songs. She was so pleased that she'd been able to help her sister have her perfect day. Carrie was having a band later, for the dancing that was going to take place in the drawing room. Sarah had talked her out of having a string quartet playing during the meal as they would take up valuable space.
At last Carrie arrived. She was handed out of the carriage by her father, who was giving her away in the proper traditional manner Carrie had wanted. Her little bridesmaids were all ready. When Sarah heard Purcell's 'Trumpet Tune' for the second time that day she knew the end was in sight. In eight hours or so she could fall into bed.
Chapter Forty-Two
Elsa slipped into the back of the chapel, having arranged Carrie's dress for the final time before she set off up the aisle. She was very pleased with how it had turned out. The back, particularly, was a triumph. This was the part that people spent most time looking at, after all.
The crystal-studded corset and the stiffened georgette caught the light and glittered as if it had been sprinkled with diamonds. No theatrical costume could have looked more fairy-like or magical.