by Anna Bell
I want her to be as blown away by the venue as I was without having any preconceived notions. I sort of want it to be a test of what the other guests will make of it when they get here.
I’m just keeping my fingers and toes crossed that she likes it as much as I do and that I didn’t get carried away because it was the nicest place I could afford. I’m doubting my judgement more than I used to; after all, I did spend £10,000 on bingo to buy a dress that would have cost me maybe £3,000 and a pair of shoes that would have cost me £550. I know I’ve said that maths is not my strong point, but even I can work out that I could have practically bought three sets of shoes and dresses for the money I lost.
There’s Lou’s car now. She hasn’t noticed me yet, which is a bloody miracle as I’m waving like a Looney Tune. But I can see her mouth is agape. Like ‘count the fillings on her teeth’ agape.
Now she’s noticed me, and I put more energy into my wave as if to acknowledge I’ve seen her see me.
I can’t wait for her to come to me, so I bound over to the car park like an excited puppy.
‘What do you think?’ I ask before she’s had a chance to get out of the car.
‘It’s amazing! However did you find it?’
‘A lot of Googling. I was just trying to find something different.’
‘Well, it certainly is. Mark will never in a million years guess this. I was saying to Russell earlier that my money was on it being a castle. That’s a bag of Maltesers that I owe him now!’
If only I’d bet Maltesers rather than actual money. Knowing me, I probably would’ve eaten as many Maltesers as I’d gambled. I might have been a whole lot fatter but at least I’d still be able to afford a castle. I’ve got to stop thinking like that. This place is beautiful.
‘Now, I’m meeting with the caterers after you, so I don’t know what the arrangements are fully. But if it’s a nice day we’re going to have the welcome drinks out here on the lawn.’
I desperately hope it is an amazingly beautiful day for our wedding. The lawn out the front is sheltered within walls of the former barracks, which almost remind me of a castle wall. There is a big oak tree in the corner that would provide shade for our frazzled guests and there’s a rose garden in the other corner with trellises and benches which will make the perfect backdrop for our photos. If I ever book a photographer, that is.
‘Oh, it will be great. Are you going to have any music out here? A string quartet? Oh, I know – a steel band. That would be fantastic.’
It really would. In my dream wedding that’s exactly the kind of thing I would have had. I can’t tell Lou I can’t afford it.
‘I don’t think Mark likes that kind of music,’ I say, and I practically shove Lou up the stairs.
‘Now imagine that we will have pictures of us taken on the stairs.’
‘Lovely, just lovely. This venue is so perfect, I can’t believe it. What’s it like inside? Is it all arms and armour?’ asks Lou.
‘It is in the main museum, but not where we’re having the reception.’
‘You all right, Penny?’ asks Ted as we walk round the revolving doors into the reception.
‘Fine, thanks, Ted. Just showing my friend the wedding set-up.’
‘Oh, very good. They’ve just finished setting up for today’s wedding.’
I’d almost forgotten that people other than me have their weddings here. I’m getting quite fond of the place already and I forget that it isn’t mine.
I smile and link arms with Lou as I take her into the anteroom.
‘This is where the bar will be set up.’
I can see Lou look up as soon as she gets in there. It was the first thing I did, too. The ceiling is ribbed and decorated in almost Masonic iconography. It reminds me that I must ask Cathy what it all means at some point.
‘What a beautiful room,’ says Lou.
‘Just you wait.’
I open the door to the main dining room and even I catch my breath at how wonderful it looks. Gone is the large mahogany table and in its place are nine perfectly dressed round tables, each covered with white tablecloths and the most beautiful floral centrepieces. They even have white chair covers with turquoise bows and for the first time I actually mourn the chair covers I won’t be able to afford. They look lovely.
‘I’m speechless,’ says Lou. ‘This must be the best-kept secret around.’
‘I know. Isn’t it? Do you think Mark will like it?’
‘Mark is going to love it.’
I beam at that. Maybe I’m not the world’s worst fiancée after all.
‘Oh, look at the top table,’ I say. ‘This is where we’ll be sitting. Here, look. That’s your place there at the end of the table.’
I turn to Lou but she isn’t looking at the top table, instead she’s looking up at the ceiling. It is a lovely ceiling but she could get more excited about being the maid of honour and where she is going to be sitting.
‘So are you having a band or a disco?’
Whichever is cheapest, I say in my head.
‘Not sure yet, I need to look around. I was half thinking of a swing band. You know, something vintage to fit the room,’ I say.
‘Oh, that would be fun. And vintage is so in at the moment. Everyone would love it.’
Everyone, that is, except my bank balance.
‘The band slash DJ will go over here on the stage,’ I say, continuing the tour. Lou has started to become much more interested again.
‘Ah, look at that view! I didn’t notice it at first. Are those the North Downs?’ asks Lou.
‘Yep, they are. Don’t they look gorgeous?’
‘They sure do. This must be costing you a fortune. Is it?’
I want to tell Lou the truth. I desperately want to confide in someone as I feel like I’m carrying round the world’s biggest secret.
‘It’s in budget.’
‘Of course, you budgeted for your wedding. You two are so sensible with your money. I’m sure that Russell and I could learn from you and Mark.’
Lou has practically stabbed my heart with a fork. Or at least that’s what it feels like. I really want to tell her how irresponsible I am with money just to make her see that I’m a million times worse with my money than she is with hers. She looks so sad about it.
‘But your wedding was worth every penny.’
‘It was a great day. I’m not sure whether it’s been worth the sacrifice of holidays abroad for the last few years though, but at least it is paid off finally.’
‘Holidays abroad ahoy, then?’ I say, trying to bring a smile back to Lou’s face.
‘Hmm, if only,’ she mutters.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing. So what kind of food do you think you’ll have?’
Whatever is the cheapest, I say again in my head. Is that the wrong answer? Something delicious that is also in budget. Does that sound better?
‘I’m not too sure until I’ve spoken to the caterers, but as I said, I’m going to be meeting them in a bit. We’ve just got time for a coffee in the tea rooms, if you like. I can buy you a cake, fatten you up so that you don’t outshine me in your bridesmaid dress on my wedding day. I don’t want you doing a Pippa Middleton,’ I say.
Lou isn’t smiling. I was only kidding. Lou is absolutely stunning in that just-rolled-out-of-bed, I-don’t-need-any-make-up way. Her hair is poker-straight and it never goes frizzy. And in the ten years that we’ve been friends I’ve never once seen her with bad skin. The cake comment was also a joke as no matter what she eats she is always a size ten. Size ten, even after the biggest of curries. If she wasn’t my best friend in the whole wide world, I’d hate her.
‘I’m kidding – your bum’s way nicer than Pippa’s, for a start. We can just go get coffee, no cake, if you want? It would be the perfect opportunity to talk bridesmaid dress styles. I’ve been bookmarking internet pages on my phone.’
‘Actually, I can’t. I’ve got to get back to Russell – we’ve got plans.
’
‘Oh.’
Is it just me or did that seem a bit abrupt? Have I upset her as she’s only just finished paying off her wedding? There’s something not quite right about Lou today and I don’t believe for one minute that she’s got plans with Russell.
I can usually tell when she’s lying as she tucks her hair behind her ear. I can see her right hand twitching as if she wants to tuck the hair. She knows I know it is her trademark lying signal and I think she is trying to resist it.
‘Are you sure you can’t stay for twenty minutes? We could talk about what colours might suit you as that would help with the flowers and the decorations—’
‘No, sorry, I promised Russell and …’ she fades off and there is the trademark hair-tuck-behind-the-ear move.
I suck in a sharp breath in surprise. She looks at me in panic. We both know that I know that she’s lied. We stand there awkwardly in silence for a few seconds.
‘Right. I’ve got to go, Pen.’
‘OK then.’ I start to walk her out of the venue. Cathy is standing at the front desk and I try to make myself as small as possible so that she doesn’t say anything in front of Lou about me volunteering. That would take a lot of explaining and a whole lot of lies to clear up.
‘See you later, Penny,’ says Cathy.
‘Bye,’ I wave.
‘Gosh, it’s very friendly here, isn’t it? I like that everyone knows your name. What excellent customer service,’ says Lou.
I bite my tongue to stop myself blurting out the truth and just about manage to nod my head.
Out in the fresh air again I hope secretly that Lou has changed her mind and that she’ll stay for that coffee.
‘Thanks for showing me this, lovely,’ she says, leaning over and kissing my cheek.
‘That’s OK. Shame you couldn’t stay longer. But we must get together soon to sort out the dresses.’
‘Yes, yes,’ she says, as she’s halfway down the steps. Is she running? Am I being the most narcissistic person on the planet or is Lou just acting plain weird?
With twenty minutes to go before my appointment with the caterer I’m too angry to sit down with a cup of coffee. Instead I decide to do what I haven’t done in years in this country. I’m going to go round a museum without being forced to.
‘Penny,’ says Ted.
I look round to see Ted behind me. I’d got so engrossed in playing on the computer in one of the galleries that I hadn’t noticed him sneaking up on me.
‘The caterers are ready to see you.’
I look at my watch and realise the last twenty minutes have flown by. Museums sure have changed over the years. Gone are the dusty places full of old stuff, and here in their place are light and brightly coloured walls with objects that you can actually touch and play with. I know that most of it is for kids, but I couldn’t resist. I mean, how often do you get the chance to try on a Victorian helmet?
I’m thinking of a new theme for the wedding. Well, military tailoring is in fashion, is it not? I could get Mark all dressed up like an old-fashioned sexy soldier and I could go all Regency with an Elizabeth Bennet dress. Yes, you’re right, I did watch too much Sharpe growing up. But Mark could totally give Sean Bean a run for his money, any day.
‘Penny, caterers,’ says Ted. ‘You’re always away with the fairies, you are.’
This bloody wedding. I wonder if I daydreamed this much before. I follow Ted back to reception and make a mental note to finish my tour of the museum off next week.
‘Hello, you must be Penny,’ says a woman dressed in starched white chefs overalls with bright turquoise bottoms.
‘Yes, that’s right. Nice to meet you. I love your trousers.’
‘Thanks. I try to match the colour scheme of the weddings where I can. Gives the brides a smile on their big day.’
I already warm to Jenny the caterer. It has nothing to do with the fact that they are the cheapest catering option or anything.
‘Shall we take a seat? I’ve got about half an hour before I’m needed in the kitchen.’
‘That would be great. Thank you so much for taking the time.’
I follow Jenny into the reception hall and we sit at one of the tables. I try to make sure that I focus on her and don’t get distracted pretending I am a guest at whoever’s wedding this is going to be.
‘Right. So let’s start with numbers,’ she says.
‘OK, so at the moment I’m working on about eighty guests for the day.’
‘And have you had a look at our sample menus? Any favourites?’
‘I like menu number two.’
Not because it is one of the cheapest but because it sounds delicious. Any meal that is finished with Toblerone cheesecake is a winner in my book.
‘That’s our most popular menu. It usually goes down very well. And don’t worry, we always have a few extra dishes just in case you get a fussy eater. If you let me know the final numbers and the dietary requirements a couple of weeks ahead we can move the menu around if we need to.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘Now then, drinks.’
‘Yes, we’ll be having drinks.’ Lots of them. In fact, if I know my guests they’ll drink the bar dry.
‘So there is a bar charge of £100, with a minimum spend of £500 behind the bar, or £200 bar charge with no minimum spend.’
‘OK,’ I say, as I try to be good and jot down the numbers.
‘Then there’s the corkage.’
The whatage?
‘That works out to be either £5 per person, or if you buy our wine it’s free.’
I suddenly wish I’d brought my calculator with me, but I have to admit I’m impressing myself with my quick maths skills. I’m going to be paying £400 for the privilege of people being able to drink. And that is before I’ve even paid for a single drop of alcohol.
‘I know it sounds expensive. But it is the going rate, especially when our price per head is so low compared to others.’
‘Jenny, it’s fine. I just need to sort out my budgeting.’
‘OK. It was just I thought I’d lost you.’
‘No, no. I’m still here.’
Although inside I’m screaming. I’m trying to work out whether our guests would mind a bring-your-own-booze arrangement. They could sneak alcohol into the reception in hip flasks or water bottles just like I used to do when I was a student.
‘Does the corkage cover the welcome drink?’
‘Yes, it does. You can provide your own drinks for that if you like. Have you had any ideas for that?’
‘Sangria.’
What? Everyone has Pimms, and Sangria always puts people in a good mood. Maybe I could have a Spanish theme. Flower in my hair, dress with a flamenco-style ruffle. I could even a get a little mariachi band, or is that Mexican?
‘Ok. Well, let’s see, you’d probably need to allow for at least 120 drinks for eighty people as you find about half the guests have a second glass.’
Knowing my friends, it will be very likely that they will have two.
‘I’ll email you a quote for sangria as it won’t be on the price list. I’ll also email you how much wine and lemonade you’d need, in case you supply it yourself.’
‘OK.’
‘Right then. So you need to decide if you want our wine or you’re going to supply your own. And then that’s it.’
‘That was simple.’
Simple in principle. Just how I am going to pay for anything else is beyond me.
‘Great. Well, it was lovely to meet you, Penny. And don’t forget to let me know your colour scheme when you’ve decided. I want to make sure I’ve got matching trousers!’
I smile. ‘Thanks, Jenny.’
As she disappears off in the direction of the kitchen I do the sums on my notepad.
It works out to be £30 per head on the food plus £5 per head corkage, which totals £2,800. Add that to my £900 for the venue and the church and I’m left with £1,600 and whatever magic beans I can save betwe
en now and then.
Both Mark and I have still been direct-debiting fifty pounds per month into the account and we’re going to do that up until the wedding. So that is another £300. So we have £1,900 left.
That sounds like a decent amount. All I’ve got to sort out is the transport, flowers, suits, my dress, bridesmaid attire, DJ/band, photographer and favours. Am I missing something?
I’m right back to needing the bag to breathe into again.
Looking around the decorated room I feel like I’m about to weep. Whoever’s wedding this is, is one lucky bride. It really is the wedding of dreams. The favours seem to be lottery tickets in those fancy lottery ticket holders that I’ve seen on the internet. There are beautifully decorated table numbers and place settings that look like they’ve been designed and printed specially.
This must have cost a fortune. Or at least it probably cost what I lost.
This is the closest I’ve felt to wanting to gamble since I went cold turkey. I’m trying to ignore the little voice in my head that is trying to get me to steal all the wedding favours. This wedding must have over one hundred guests. That means there are one hundred lottery tickets here. What are the odds that somewhere in this pile of lottery tickets there is a winner?
My hand hovers over one of the favour envelopes and just as I’m about to take it, I’m snapped back into reality by my mobile ringing.
I pick it up and wave to Ted at the front desk as I walk out of the main staircase and away from the lottery ticket temptation, as quickly as I can.
‘Hi, honey.’
‘Hi, Pen. I was wondering if you’re nearly done. I feel like going to the cinema. Do you fancy it? Thought we could grab dinner out after.’
‘That sounds nice.’
‘My treat. I just thought you’ve had a long day organising our wedding, which I’m sure is going to be amazing.’
My heart sinks. If only Mark knew the truth about my excellent organisational skills.
‘What do you reckon?’ asks Mark.
‘Sounds perfect,’ I say, trying to hold back the tears. ‘I’ll be home in half an hour.’
‘Half an hour, you say? I’ll just draw a radius on the map.’
‘Ha, very funny, mister. See you soon.’