by Jane Linfoot
‘Great.’ Johnny gives me a nod and then suddenly looks a little bit sad. ‘You know I always wanted to come and see where your gran lived.’ He gives a shrug. ‘And now I have.’
‘What?’ Where did that come from?
‘Your summers at uni always sounded idyllic. You can’t blame me for wanting a piece of them.’ He’s eyeing me levelly and moving on fast. ‘You know, whatever Quinn says, and however much Dan tried not to arrive, Alice is brilliant for Dan. They make a great couple. When they’re not getting married, that is.’
‘Dan put off coming?’ Now I’m blowing my fringe up. Stupid o’clock in the morning is hardly the ideal time to find out Dan’s app excuse was fake. What’s worse, the fact that Dan’s cold feet are real sends a chill down my spine, even though I’m backed up against the radiator. ‘How am I ever going to sleep now?’ I’m starting to understand why Alice needs her colouring books. What’s more, if I’d been in her place when Dan finally showed up, I’d probably have gone through the celestial ceiling too.
‘Don’t worry. If we’re both on their case, fingers crossed, we can help them see what’s important. Get this show on the road.’
Johnny is so right. Truly, I have not lived through the last week to end up with my sister still single. As I head up the stairs, I’m just hoping he’s right.
36
Friday, 23rd December
At Rose Hill Manor: With bells on
Alice is the list queen. If I had a list, which I never do, it would say one thing: design dresses. Come to think of it, when I do have any more than that to do, like bespoke appointments, Jess is on my case, like some kind of super personal assistant. Although after what she did to Dan last night, I’m not sure Jess deserves to be mentioned in the same sentence as super-anything. Jess’s excuse this morning, ‘The poor boy needed a blow-out to face his demons’ isn’t cutting it. I mean, really? This is my sister’s future husband we’re talking about here. Getting him wasted to the point he was so legless he couldn’t run away is a lame excuse.
As for the list thing, for one time only, due to the extreme extenuating circumstances, I broke with tradition. Earlier, while I was waiting for Alice to come out of the bath, I made one for myself. I’m guessing cute stationery is an upside of lists I’d overlooked. In case you’re wondering, I blagged a heart-print Paul Smith notebook of Alice’s and prettied it up using Pritt Stick and glitter borrowed from Poppy. And if I’m sounding super-lively (super being my mot-du-jour for today) for someone who barely had four hours sleep, it’s because I’ve said yes to every extra-strong coffee I’ve been offered. Which so far totals five.
Sera’s pre-wedding day to-do list A (status: public)
Photographer – break bad news to Alice, ring Jules
Cake – break bad news to Alice, see Poppy
Flowers – e.t.a. of hire van – 10 a.m. at Rose Hill Manor – be there
Put on chair covers and tablecloths
Catering lorries – arrival to be confirmed
Catering team – currently 48 hours late – have they even left New York yet? – arrival to be confirmed, everything crossed for this
Move Alice and I over to Rose Hill Manor
First guests – arriving from 8pm onwards – OMG!!!
This is my general ‘anyone can look at over my shoulder’ list. It’s for huge things only, not the small stuff I don’t give a damn about e.g. the post box. I can barely say the words without rolling my eyes, after all the trouble that damn thing has caused. Jess is in charge of bringing it, on the condition she keeps her hands off the groom.
Between us, there’s also a second super-confidential list…which is strictly more of a wish list:
Sera’s highest priority, to-do list B (status: top secret)
1. Make Alice and Dan fall in love again
2. (In case of success with item 1) Wedding dress for Alice?????
So there you go. By the time Alice and I are heading over to Rose Hill to meet the flower van, we’ve already knocked off the first two items from list A. What’s more, Alice just heard the catering team are airborne, so we may not be cooking on gas after all.
‘It’s great that Jules has agreed to stand in, even though you might not need him.’ I say, as we zoom along the lanes between Daisy Hill Farm and The Manor. I’m careful to add in the end disclaimer, because as far as Alice is concerned, the wedding is still very much on hold.
It helped that Alice had met Jules and already fallen under his floppy-haired, azure-eyed spell.
‘As for the cake, it was useful of Poppy to point out the damaged cake will still be fine to cut up and eat,’ Alice says. ‘And it’s so good of her to do a nude cake too. Even if we don’t… you know…’ The way Alice tails off is the way it’s been all morning. We’re in a kind of half-way limbo-land, where we have to go ahead and do things. But no one’s heart is in it.
So Poppy’s going ahead with a four-tier nude sponge, with vanilla buttercream, for the – fingers crossed – wedding cake. And she’s baking as we speak.
‘The cupcake towers will be a nice addition too,’ I say. Trying to keep Alice up-beat this morning is, understandably, hard work. ‘I mean, who doesn’t love a cupcake?’ Piped with vanilla and orange and peppermint-flavoured buttercream, with colour-coded ‘I do’ labels to show the flavours. It’ll only take a minute to whip the cute ‘I do’ stickers off if Alice and Dan decide to say ‘I don’t.’ Because, let’s face it, like it or not, the guests will be stuck here for Christmas. Even if the ‘I do’s’ don’t happen they still need to eat.
Even though I’ve told Alice about the photographer and the cake, there’s a news blackout on Dan. Although it’s too early to count my chickens – can you tell I’ve been hanging around a farm? – with Alice agreeing to so many fall-back solutions this morning, it feels like we might just be on a roll here. All we need now is for Dan to waltz in for a quick kiss-and-make-up, and we’ll be back on track, job done. Although given the hangover he’ll be dealing with, it’s going to be a while before he waltzes anywhere.
Alice is beside me in the front of my gran’s mini. Even though it doesn’t feel as cold this morning, she’s still hugging her trench coat around her knees, like some kind of comfort blanket. As we pull up in front of the Manor, her hand lands on my arm.
‘Thanks, Sera, you’re amazing. And your friends are wonderful too. I so…’ Halfway through, I feel her touch go heavy on my arm. As she sits up, her eyes widen. Wedding or no wedding, the shriek of excitement is loud enough to make my ears buzz. ‘Oooooo, I think the flowers have come early.’ In two seconds flat, she’s thrown open the car door and she’s hurtling towards a white van.
By the time I catch her up, she’s flinging open the back door and poking at the contents.
‘This doesn’t look like flowers… there should be boxes.’ She deflates along with her voice as she pokes at some wires and a pile of plastic slabs.
A low laugh comes from the front of the van. ‘Of course it doesn’t look like flowers, Alice, because that’s not what we’re unloading here.’
‘Quinn, hi. In a pixie hat too.’ Alice’s tone is more sarcastic than playful. If she doesn’t go on to say “lovely to see you” at least she’s being true to herself.
‘You’ll be smiling when I tell you what is in here.’ As Quinn pops into full view around the end of the van his grin stretches from one plastic Elf ear to the other.
Alice has regained enough of her composure to be sticking her nose in the air and feigning complete disinterest. ‘I can’t begin to guess what you’ve got to look so self-satisfied about, so you might as well tell us.’
Quinn’s so bouncy, he’s either impervious to Alice’s put-down. Or maybe he’s used to ignoring her. ‘This is the one and only disco floor. I’ve chased the length of the country to get this baby.’ As he pats the side of the van with his palm, his beam is ecstatic. ‘I promised Dan I’d come through on this, and I damned well have. It’s going to blow you away, belie
ve me.’
If Alice could raise one eyebrow, I think she would have done. As it is, she has to make do with a head tilt and a hard stare. ‘Not that you have the best record of being believable, Quinn.’ She rearranges her hair and gives a sniff. ‘Thanks anyway, I’m sure our guests will be very appreciative.’
Whatever Alice misses out with the eyebrows, she makes up for, times ten, with her snippy remarks. If I had a quarter of her tongue-lashing genes, I wouldn’t be the wimp I am.
Quinn smirks. ‘You’re very welcome, Mrs Bradwell – or will it still be Ms East? I hear the odds on a wedding happening are about the same as the odds for a white Christmas. But at least we’ll have great dancing.’ He practically cuts himself off laughing at that, before he goes on. ‘Anyway, did you mention flowers?’
‘Why?’ If Alice sounds suspicious, I reckon it’s only because she knows Quinn so well.
As Quinn nods the bells on his hat jingle. ‘Flowers are in the next van along. You’re very welcome. My pleasure to be on hand to help Team Bride. Covering for absent grooms is all in a day’s work.’ His mischievous grin warms slightly as he turns to me. ‘Even if the prettiest bridesmaid did leave me drinking on my own last night. You won’t slip away from me that easily if there’s a wedding party, Sera.’
I’m opening and closing my mouth like a guppy trying to think of a suitable snappy come-back. It’s not that I mind for me, but I hate the way he’s taunting Alice. ‘Actually Quinn… do us all a favour and shut up.’ There’s something so satisfying about the shock on Quinn’s face.
Quinn’s face soon splits into a grin again. As he leans towards me, he scrapes his nail across the corner of my eye, then examines what he’s found. ‘No panic, it’s just a bit of glitter. Sorry to steal your sparkle, princess.’
As I pull away from him poking me in the face, I’m a million miles away from a nifty reply to that one. I’m standing wracking my brain when a howl slices through the air.
‘Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh…’
I’ve heard that scream before. As I follow the yell, I see Alice, at the next van along, wedged between the open doors, and dipping into a box.
I tiptoe towards her, even though every atom of my survival instinct is telling me to hang back. ‘Anything I can help with?’
Her eyes are flashing as she turns and when she replies, she’s literally growling. ‘Not unless you’re a bloody flower wholesaler… or a bloody florist. These roses aren’t cream and white, they’re bloody pink. Someone must be bloody colour blind.’
‘Oh my.’ I can see that’s going to be an ‘end of the world’ situation for Alice. But as I peer in over her elbow, it’s not the dusky-pink colour that hits me first. I screw up my courage. ‘Do you think some of them are looking a bit… well… droopy?’ I’m no expert, but I know frost-bitten roses when I see them.
‘Droopy… where?’ Alice pokes deeper into the box
‘They’re just like a bunch I had from the mini market last year. I got a refund, because they’d been…’ I hesitate to say the words ‘… frozen in transit.’ As I say them she lets out a tiny whimper.
But given it was polar last night when we were walking around St Aidan, it’s completely possible that’s what happened to these flowers. And as Alice organised the transportation, that’s down to her.
‘Let’s see how the next box is.’ I’m desperate to be positive, but it’s like the broken crystal all over again. Just without the chinking noise.
As Alice pulls the cardboard open her anger fades to despair. ‘This one’s the same – the roses are weird and wilting. It has to be the frost.’ Her face crumples and for a moment she looks as if she’s going to cry. But then she tugs at her hair instead, and talks through gritted teeth. ‘This is my fault and no one else’s.’
‘There’s no point beating yourself up.’ I can’t help sending a quick thank you to my fairy godmother, because bad as this is, we’re not dealing with actual wedding bouquets and wedding flowers. As things stand, strictly they’re only decorations. I look more closely and a fresh scent tickles my nose. ‘Actually, maybe they’re not all ruined. Qui - i - nn…’ No one could ignore a yell that loud. Sure enough, seconds later he comes trotting up.
‘You called, princess?’ He waggles his bell in my face.
For now I’ll overlook the princess. And the bell waggling. And give him a light smack on his beard. ‘Be a sweet elf and take the flower boxes into the house. We’re nipping into town.’
‘We are?’ Alice is staring absently.
‘For reinforcements.’ On a need-to-know basis, that’s enough. I’m just hoping Jess is around to pitch in with this one.
‘Great. Consider it done.’ Quinn leans across to Alice, flicking a shiny fleck of glitter off her cheek with his finger. ‘Someone else losing their sparkle?’
I just know there’s only one place this is going. One more dig about lost fiancés from Quinn, and I will personally throttle him. ‘Quinn, just back off.’ As I send him the scowl of my life he jumps at my shout. ‘You’re an elf, so stop acting like an arse. And for one time only, get some bloody work done.’
He grabs a box and shoots off towards the kitchen door. I’m still laughing about the look on his face as Alice and I reach the car.
Not only have we got to salvage the flower situation. We also have to persuade Dan that he wants to have a first dance with Alice.
37
Friday, 23rd December
In the Butler’s Pantry at Rose Hill Manor: Sour apples and blood-shot eyes.
‘So how’s it going with that delectable best man out there?’
We’re in the utility room, aka the butler’s pantry, at Rose Hill Manor, and before she so much as sniffs at the pile of flower boxes and the disaster of what’s inside them, Jess is preparing for business like a surgeon putting on scrubs. I was so relieved she could drop everything and come running, I completely overlooked avoiding Quinn on the way in. Bumping into him flexing his muscles, humping a massive disco speaker into the house was obviously a bad mistake.
‘Hey, aren’t the fairy lights pretty?’ I’m looking up, desperate to move Jess on from eligible groomsmen. ‘What a lovely idea of Alice’s to hang them on the Sheila Maid.’
Jess frowns. ‘Back on task, Sera, we’re talking Mr Muscle here, not clothes airers.’
‘Remember the bridal party celibacy agreement,’ I laugh. ‘Not that we need it. Those plastic pixie ears are killing the passion all on their own.’
‘When he swaps that hat for a wedding suit, it’ll be a lot harder to stay hands off.’ She’s massaging her hand cream into every individual finger. ‘So you’re telling me after a week of rubbing shoulders on wedding work with a Ferrari owner, you still haven’t…?’
‘What, wiggled my eyebrows at him?’ I say, because that’s what she’s doing. ‘This far I’ve said “no” to moving to London, a night in a log cabin and sex by the fire. We’ll have to see what Christmas brings.’
Her eyes grow wider as the list grows longer. ‘My God, I hope you put your foot down hard about London.’ She pops a khaki apron over her head, winds the strings around her middle and knots them into a bow.
‘We both know happiness isn’t man-shaped, Jess. My life is completely great, I’m entirely fulfilled as I am, thanks.’ No change necessary. Between us, I’m shocked at Jess. Who’d have thought she’d be so swayed by one flash car.
‘On the other hand,’ she says, eyeing me coolly, ‘so long as you don’t do a disappearing act, filling that man-sized gap in your life may be no bad thing. The upgrade you didn’t know you wanted, but would be wild about if it happened. Like getting bumped up from business class to first?’
That is so not going to happen. ‘I’m not sure Quinn’s worth the effort.’ The funny thing is, the more I get to know Quinn, the more he makes me wary rather than comfortable.
Her eyebrows are off again. ‘You wouldn’t buy a car without a test drive.’ She breaks into a smile. ‘Once a woman got
her hands on those abs she wouldn’t let go in a hurry.’
I take it she’s still talking about me here. ‘The whole point is, I’m a metaphorical nervous driver, who isn’t looking for a car.’ Before Quinn, Jess and I have always seen eye to eye on guys. We didn’t want one, full stop.
‘Okay. We’re good to go.’ She lifts the lid off the first box and begins to tweak out the flowers. ‘I’ll take the arrangements apart, save anything I can. Then we’ll work our magic.’ The ‘good’ pile is already encouraging. ‘Did I see a jam jar as we came through the kitchen?’
I dash off and retrieve the famous jar Alice bounced across the kitchen floor. ‘This one?’
‘Great.’ Jess’s hands are flying as she works. ‘Got any more of those?’
My lips twist into a grin. ‘Only a few hundred.’ Seems like Quinn’s bulk buy is coming in handy after all.
‘Brilliant. Next I’ll need twigs to make the flowers go further. Something straighter than the ones on the ceiling.’
Here we go. Why does the mention of more twigs make me lose the will to live? Then I have an idea. ‘How about the kindling sticks they use for lighting the fires?’ A minute later I’m back from the boot room with a basketful. ‘There’s a stack of these in the coach house.’
She shoves a handful of sticks into the jar, pops in some roses, adds a twist of eucalyptus, then stands back to assess. ‘Run these down the table centres. Job done.’
That’s the fab thing about Jess. I knew she’d make it look easy.
‘Awesome, you’ve saved the day again! I’ll bring more jars and sticks.’
I’m careering across to the coach house when I bang into Johnny. His hair is spiked up in all directions and there are creases in everything including his face; he’s looking exactly like he spent the night on someone’s floor and had no sleep at all. Although I’m not going to tell him that.