Ellie managed a smile, but still felt a bit shaky. She was so grateful for Deana’s calming influence at times like this. She realized she had much to learn about dealing with a crisis. ‘Thank you, Deana.’
Ten o’clock. Crisis resolved, and less than an hour until the moment of truth when the ‘unicorn’ was due to make its appearance, ready to transport the bride down the castle driveway for the start of her big day. The weather was holding fine at the moment, though there was a forecast of sunshine and showers. Ellie had moved the girls, dresses and the equipment, worthy of a whole hairdressing salon, up and into their new rooms with the help of Deana, Derek and Malcolm. So, the bridal hairdo was all finished, and teased into perfect place. Please, please, please let it stay dry, at least until Bridezilla got back into shelter of the castle.
8
Ellie was stood anxiously on the castle steps. Once the ‘unicorn’ was in sight she was to go straight up to the bridal suite and fetch Bridezilla to be ready on the castle steps for collection. The unicorn entourage were to do a loop, out through the side entrance of the castle, up the hill and through the little hamlet. Ellie had even primed some of their neighbours to stand at the roadside ready to wave and cheer, as Bridezilla had wanted a Royal Wedding feel. They would then come back in to the estate through the very impressive wrought-iron gates of the main castle entrance, down the tree-lined avenue, to meet with her bridesmaids who were to be dutifully waiting on the same steps for her, along with her father. They would then all troop on up into the castle and to the chapel, where hopefully the groom would be ready, or else.
Crickey, there were so many things might go wrong with this part of the day’s events. Tractors blocking the road, animal antics, always unpredictable, Malcom and Derek – enough said. At least Lauren was in control of the action now, and a certain ex-jockey racing stable owner, apparently, which had put Ellie’s mind more at ease. She still hadn’t seen the final plan in action herself, but was assured it would be a hit with the bride.
Ooh look, there was something happening away in the distance. A rattle of carriage wheels maybe? Ellie wasn’t sure whether to be excited or distraught.
There was a small procession coming down the tree-lined driveway. Leading the way was a rather magnificent white horse, and as it neared, Ellie could see it had a very impressive horned head – certainly not the same papier-mache article that Malcolm had created. Leading the horse was a rather handsome chap that Ellie had once met in the village stores – ah, so that was Anthony from the racing stables then. He was in full riding attire, tight beige jodhpurs, smart navy velvet riding jacket, over a crisp, white shirt, and stylish cravat. In fact, he looked rather like a character out of a Jilly Cooper novel – wow. He flashed Ellie a broad smile as they approached the castle steps.
A small gathering had followed them along the driveway, including Derek and Malcolm who were walking beside a rather quaint wooden carriage, and guess who was pulling it – Patrick the Pony. Lauren, was masterfully driving the little carriage, holding the reins confidently, with a unicorn-horn free Patrick, who at this point anyhow, seemed to be behaving himself.
‘Good morning,’ greeted Anthony in a lovely, warm Irish accent. If that voice, on top of the white-stallion unicorn and the Colin Firth-style riding breeches, didn’t have the bride as putty in his hands, Ellie wasn’t sure what would. She began to relax, just a little.
‘Morning. Thank you so much for helping out at late notice. Right then, I’ll just go and fetch the bride.’ And off she dashed, feeling a little like Cinderella herself.
Across the courtyard she scampered, and up the stone stairwell to the second-floor suite of rooms that the bride and her bridesmaids were now in. She knocked, with her fingers on the other hand crossed behind her back. Here goes.
‘Who is it?’ came a bark from the far side of the door.
‘Just Ellie, we’re ready when you are Br …’ Ooh, she nearly let it slip, ‘Chelsea.’ She opened the door to be greeted by hair tongs and straighteners, nail varnish bottles open at precarious angles on the furniture, handbags, jewellery, discarded underwear, empty bottles of prosecco, half-filled flutes, bouquets in rainbow-coloured hues, a heavy scent of ladies perfume, and twelve very glamorous, if slightly (she was being kind) over-the-top, ladies, plus a ragged-looking hairdresser.
Chelsea was stood in the middle of all this in her silk and taffeta dress, which seemed to take up the whole room by itself.
‘Just need my tiara fixed on. Amy, are you ready with it? I need it now,’ she shrieked across the room. The poor hairdresser flitted to her side, though it was hard to reach the bride’s head now with the meringue-gown creation in full expanse. Two bridesmaids and Bridezilla’s mother had to hold it down like it was some kind of caged animal, to let the hairdresser get to Chelsea and secure the tiara with its short, very sparkly train in place. The bride’s platinum blonde curls had been corkscrewed and then partly pinned-up in a sweeping mid-section on the top of her head. Ellie noted that her make-up was extremely heavy, in a trowelled-on shade of orange – if it rained out there now, they were in big trouble.
‘Have you got your something blue on, Chels?’ one of the bridesmaids asked.
Bridezilla flashed a lacy blue garter in response.
‘Oh, and don’t forget your clutch bag and bouquet.’
‘Got it. Are you all ready, my girls? I need you on the steps to see me off, and then you have to wait there while I do the tour. I hope that unicorn’s ready?’ She flashed Ellie a don’t-you-dare-get-anything-else-wrong-here stare.
Ellie felt her stomach shudder, but held her nerve. ‘Of course. It looks stunning. Just perfect.’
‘Good.’
Ellie and the maid of honour lifted the expanse of skirt to help Bridezilla get out of the room and down the stairs, whilst she was muttering, ‘Should have got this staircase widened, knowing there were going to be brides in their wedding dresses coming down here.’
Oh yes, knock down a thirteenth-century stairwell to accommodate a multi-meringue layered dress. Good idea. Ellie bit her tongue.
There was a clatter of stilettos on stone, it sounded like they were storming the castle, as they trooped carefully down and out across the courtyard. Joe was under strict instructions, keeping a careful eye on the drawing room holding area where the other guests were being plied with champagne, to make sure that neither the groom nor any of the other guests ventured out and caught sight of them. Derek was also acting as sentinel on the doors out to the courtyard.
Anthony, and the white-stallion unicorn (well, it was a gelding but no one was going to say anything!) were waiting patiently at the bottom of the steps. By some miracle Patrick, Lauren and the cart, were positioned in the right place just behind them – after doing two loops round the block to keep the restless pony happy.
‘Oooh.’ Bridezilla seemed quite overwhelmed. Ellie prayed this was in a positive way, but couldn’t be quite sure.
‘So, do I ride this gorgeous creature?’ Bridezilla looked teasingly across at Anthony.
‘If only,’ he replied smoothly. ‘But, my lovely lady, a riding hat would be essential, and that would so spoil your beautiful hairdo. So, your carriage awaits.’
God, he was a charmer. Ellie held back a wry grin.
He gestured to Patrick and his cart. Since Ellie had nipped upstairs, the carriage had had a quick makeover and been gorgeously decorated by Wendy, with floral twists of pink and orange roses, sprigs of delicate white gypsophila and greenery. There was a rainbow-coloured throw in place on the seat, and Patrick himself now sported a pink rose on his head collar, which thankfully he hadn’t seemed to have noticed.
Was this going to be the moment Bridezilla flipped? There seemed to be a universal holding of breath.
‘Oh, how lovely, and isn’t the donkey sweet.’
Thank goodness Patrick didn’t speak human, or he might have flipped – donkey indeed.
Anthony handed the lead rein of the white horse acr
oss to Malcolm, whilst he gestured for the bride to take his arm, ushered her to the carriage, and yes actually made a step out of his two hands, fingers locked together, for her to climb up to the seat. Bridezilla had a stunned and rather mesmerized look on her face, as she gazed back down at him. Ellie hoped she wasn’t now regretting her choice of groom.
The official photographer was snapping away in a photo frenzy.
‘And so, let the wonders of the day begin!’ Anthony announced.
The bridesmaids cheered from the castle steps as he took up the lead rein of the unicorn-stallion who began to walk steadily beside him ready for their village tour, Patrick plodding dutifully behind. Perhaps he was in awe of the unicorn too! What a marvellous pair they both made.
And, Ellie spotted, as the carriage set off, Bridezilla was grinning from ear to ear. Ellie nearly jumped up and made a huge air punch, but reined it in. Result! Thank you, Lauren, and thank you, Anthony.
When they returned twenty minutes later, Bridezilla was still smiling and waving regally (she’d obviously mastered the Queen’s technique on the way round). The two equines, Lauren as carriage driver, the rather gorgeous Anthony, and a beaming Malcolm (who was taking all the credit of course) brought her back to a halt outside the castle steps once more. The only problem was when Patrick lifted his tail, farted and did a superb pile of pony poo right in Bridezilla’s eyeline, just as she was about to dismount. Her face dropped for a nanosecond, but Anthony saved the day, reaching his hand out at just the right moment to help her down and take her mind right off what had just happened. Lauren was giggling, and Malcolm was cursing Patrick between gritted teeth for taking the shine off the whole event at the last moment.
Anthony gave the bride a very gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand, and passed her back to the gaggle of bridesmaids, who Ellie was certain were swooning on the steps. She gave him a grin and a thumbs up as she mouthed, ‘Thank you, so much.’ Then she was ready to take over for round two; the safe delivery of Bridezilla to the chapel and her groom.
The bride’s father was here on the steps now too, which had initiated a quick exit from Bridezilla’s mother. Apparently, the maid of honour filled Ellie in briefly, there had been a very bitter divorce some years back. Ellie might need to have a quiet word about the seating plan for top table then, and a quick rearrangement, or that might prove interesting. Why on earth hadn’t they thought to tell her beforehand?
Right, all she had to do was get the bride, her father, and her bridesmaids in the right line-up and to the chapel. She checked her watch, 11:27 a.m., perfect. They had a couple of minutes’ walk across the courtyard and up the steps into the main castle building. Then a further short walk along the corridor to the chapel, and that was it.
She’d give the bridal entourage a minute or two to gather themselves for now, and be a fashionable few minutes late … without panicking the groom. Mind you, if he had any sense at all, he’d have run a mile by now.
9
It still got to her, at every wedding she had attended as either a guest or coordinator, that moment when the music started up and the bride set off down the aisle (even if it was a Bridezilla!), all heads were turned expectantly and it was the groom’s look that usually said it all. And, after all, there’s someone for everyone, and yes, even this groom had a look of awe and love on his face. So, maybe it might work out well for them after all; though this groom was going to have his work cut out, bless him.
Ellie breathed out with a slow sigh of relief to have made it so far in the day relatively unscathed, and turned to see Joe beside her. He gave her a wink and squeezed her hand. She felt herself melt just a little. She hadn’t realized, until that point, just how tense she must have been. Mind you, there was still plenty to do – a buffet to put the final touches too, and a top table to quickly rearrange, before it came to fisticuffs. Deana was staying in the chapel to keep an eye on things with the bride and groom, which released Ellie to make a quick dash to the Great Hall, and check on all the catering arrangements.
‘Gotta go.’ Ellie squeezed Joe’s hand back.
‘Already? I’ve only just caught up with you.’ He looked a little disappointed.
‘Sorry … I’ve still got loads to do.’
‘Well, I’ll go and check on everything in the marquee for later, in that case. I spotted Alan just before, he’ll be setting up the bar for the evening in there. Just give me a shout if there’s any last minute things you need for the Great Hall, too.’
‘Will do. Catch you later.’
She sighed. They’d been ships in the night for the past few days. In fact, it seemed like they hardly had time for each other in the last few months, but she’ d had so much to do on the run up to this demanding wedding, and with juggling the needs of a busy teashop too. Late nights, early starts, ordering catering supplies, making lunches, buffets, cakes and bakes. But she wouldn’t complain, she loved her role, it was so far from her boring insurance work and her hemmed-in city life of five years ago. Usually the weddings took some organizing, but they were also fun and very satisfying to be part of. But this time, well, she couldn’t wait for it all to be over and to just crash out on the sofa with Joe tomorrow evening. It might well end up being a tv and take-out night, and that would be just bliss.
The buffet was ready and looking quite stunning, she had to admit. Whole salmons, gammon joints, dressed crab, prawns and oysters, salads, new potatoes, an array of desserts. They just needed to lift the clingfilm covers away. The staff were all in place, ready for the off. And there was plenty of spare food made, ready to ferry up from the kitchens to keep the platters and salads topped up. It was self-serve, except for the top table, so they’d organized it in table order to keep the flow even. Okay, all was going to plan so far. She’d nip back to see the happy, (hopefully) just-wed couple coming out of the chapel.
There was to be a short lull after the service to give everyone a chance to chat, relax, and take a toilet break, before the official lineup where greetings and congratulations were given to the bride and groom. To do this, they would all file past the happy couple as they went into the Great Hall.
Malcolm loved taking over as master of ceremonies at this point, taking charge of the Wedding Breakfast, speeches, cutting of the cake – which gave him free rein to be theatrical, darling, and also gave Ellie a bit of timeout. Well, time to get the next mountain of food prepared – a late afternoon tea of scones, cake and delicate sandwiches to keep everyone going.
Ellie was one of the first to congratulate the couple and hung around subtly in the sidelines, in case she was needed to help in any way. Sure enough, just as the bridesmaids nipped off en masse to the loo, no doubt the morning’s prosecco taking effect, and a need to reapply lipstick and tweak hairdos, Bridezilla started complaining about her shoes killing her. No wonder; Ellie had spotted the stilettos earlier when she’d hiked up on to the carriage via Anthony’s palms – killer heels, six inches tall, and a spike that could do serious damage.
‘Ellie,’ she hissed. ‘Ellie … my bloody feet. It’s these wobbly stone floors, and all the bloody steps everywhere. Castle’s a friggin’ nightmare. I’m gonna have to swap my shoes. I’ve got some of those butterfly pumps in my handbag back in my room. Can you go and fetch them for me?’
‘Yes, no problem. Which is your bag, in case there’s more than one?’
‘Black Mulberry, gold chain strap.’
‘Okay, I’ll just be a couple of minutes.’
‘I don’t know if I can last that long. I’m getting blisters.’
Ellie dashed off, leaving Bridezilla chatting with the best man. She had master keys, and flat shoes on, so got there in no time, located the bag and the pumps, and rushed back. Some of the bridal party had drifted across the landing towards the Great Hall. The large wooden doors to the hall were still closed at present, so as to make an impact and allow the last-minute preps to be completed. Two waitresses were stood either side of the entrance with trays of buck’s fizz
flutes ready to hand out to the guests, who would then file past the bride and groom, to greet them as a married couple. For now, guests were still mingling in the corridor and filing out of the chapel.
‘Made it.’ Ellie offered up the shoes, with a smile.
‘Where’s my chief bridesmaid, for Christ’s sake? Hah, should have known it, look at her down there, it’s my day and she’s off chatting up the bloody ushers. You’ll have to do it.’ She thrust the butterfly pumps back at Ellie. ‘Well, there’s no way I can reach my feet in this dress.’
Ellie crouched down on her hands and knees to one side of the bride, trying to be discreet. The things you have to do as a wedding coordinator, honestly. She pulled up the massive hoop of the skirt, and popped her head in under; it felt very like a huge tent. A foot poked her, the pointy toe nearly hitting her in the eye. Bloody hell, she should be paid danger money. Right then, she carefully took the shoe off, and rolled the pump over the bride’s slightly sweaty stockinged foot.
Just don’t look up, she advised herself, keep your mind on the task and get the hell out of here ASAP. Who the hell knew if commando was in style for this particular bride?
Suddenly from under the muffling layers of taffeta and silk, she heard Malcolm’s boom, ‘Ladies and Gentleman, please make an orderly line to greet your bride and groom.’
With that the whole skirt dropped down over and around Ellie. She received a kick, yes a kick, damn her, from the other stiletto, a prompt for her to get on and change it. Then, she heard muffles of ‘Congratulations’, ‘Well done’, ‘You make such a lovely couple’ and mwah, mwah kisses, from above. The bride was leaning over her now. What the …
Ellie lifted the other shoe quickly and slightly abruptly took it off, and slipped on the second ballet-style pump. Now what …? She’d need to get out somehow, but it would look awfully weird if she crept out into the waiting lineup of guests from under the bridal skirts, and possibly a bit pervy. She stayed put, still not looking up.
The Cosy Christmas Teashop Page 6