Authors: Sophie Pembroke
“Carrie, I am very concerned about a number of aspects of this day.” Anna dragged her into the bar, where the groom, his father and brothers, and the best man, were getting a head start on the day’s festivities. “Let me see your list.”
Carrie handed it over, deciding this was one of those battles you had to lose to win the war. Or whatever that metaphor was.
“Now, see, you don’t have anything on here about the centerpieces, and when I just checked a moment ago I noticed the top table doesn’t even have one yet.” Anna looked up at Carrie, obviously waiting for an answer. Carrie was so relieved that this obviously meant the other tables did have flowers, that she didn’t even both to point out the line on her list reading
Check centerpieces
.
“It’s on its way, Anna,” she said, trying not to sound too irritated. “You don’t want it to wilt too soon, do you?”
Anna, unfortunately, had more experience with wedding flowers than Ruth and her mother, and snorted. “You mean it’s not ready yet.” She shook her head. “And that’s not the only thing. There are no ribbons on the chairs in the ceremony room, and I know we specifically asked for them.”
And Carrie knew they’d been there when she went in for dinner the night before, because she’d checked. She wondered how early Anna had needed to get up to thoroughly sabotage all her work.
“There’s cracks in at least four of the plates set out in the dining room. The terrace is going to be utterly unsuitable for photos, so I hope you have an alternative lined up. And there are no seats reserved for the family in the ceremony room.”
Anna paused for breath, and shook her head. “And these are just the problems I’ve noticed this morning. God knows what sort of a state things will be in by the time dinner rolls around.”
“Anna, I really think you’re overreacting here.” Carrie tried to keep her voice light. “I can fix...”
“And I think you’re underestimating the effect matters like these can have on a bride and her family. I wouldn’t be surprised if your uncle decided to hold back some of his final payment as compensation, if things aren’t perfect for his little girl.” It wasn’t unheard of. Carrie had advised couples to do it herself, when a venue had offered up subpar standards on their big day. Still, she thought Anna must be getting a bit desperate if she thought Uncle Patrick would hold back payment over
ribbons.
“In fact, I think I’ll be honor bound to suggest it myself.”
“Anna, I said I will fix it,” Carrie started, but her ex-boss had already swept away in a cloud of perfume and hairspray. Carrie took a calming breath, then set about putting things right, starting by pulling out her mobile.
“Cyb? I need a favor. Can you get Stan to take you to buy twenty meters of ivory ribbon and bring it to the Inn as soon as possible? I need bows on the back of the chairs in the ceremony room.”
“I thought we already did that?” Cyb said on the other end. “Never mind, I’ll sort it.”
Her next call was to Moira, to ensure that the top table flower decoration was going to make it on time. “Nate’s bringing it up now,” she assured her.
The photographer was already outside taking some setting shots; she could collar him and ask why the terrace was unsuitable, and see if he thought some festive shots in the lobby with the Christmas tree would work.
Which just left the cracked plates, which Carrie was certain hadn’t been cracked when she and Izzie had laid them out the day before. Still, they’d laid in some spares just in case, so it was an easy job to go and switch them. Carrie ticked the last item off her list and headed to the kitchen to find the plates.
Instead, she found utter chaos. Water seeped across the tiled floor, under the counters and doors, with the occasional prawn floating past. Carrie stepped back to try and save the shoes, and called in, “What the hell’s happening here!”
Jacob turned from where he was examining the wall. He held up a wire with a plug at the end. “Someone unplugged the fridges and freezers.” His face was tight with anger.
Carrie closed her eyes. “I’ll give you one guess who.” She allowed herself ten seconds to be absolutely, incandescently furious, before getting down to business. “Everything ruined?”
Jacob fished out a lobster from the rapidly swelling lake. “Everything.”
“Right. Then we’re going to have to go with Plan B.”
* * * *
Carrie found Anna on the terrace with the photographer, who was saying, “Really, Miss Yarnley, I think the terrace will be perfect for the photos. With the mountains in the background...”
“Yardley,” Anna corrected. “And I’m concerned about the state of the wood. You wouldn’t want it to collapse under our bride, would you?”
“Actually, we’ve just had this whole end replaced,” Carrie said, stepping in. “So you really mustn’t worry. Anna, a word?” She cocked her head at the other end of the terrace, and started walking without checking to see if Anna was following.
She was, though, and once Carrie thought they were out of earshot of the open bar doors, she turned back and said, “Why are you doing this?” as calmly as she could. Which wasn’t really all that calm at all.
“Doing what, dear?” Anna asked, her eyebrows raised above innocent eyes. “I’m just trying to ensure that everything runs well for you today.”
“By sabotaging the wedding breakfast?” Carrie heard her voice getting higher and louder, and tried to tone it down. The last thing she needed was Ruth running out her to find out what was wrong with her seafood starter.
“I’m sure I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Anna gave her a very concerned look. “But if there’s a problem, maybe it’s best you tell the client now. They might decide to postpone until everything can be perfect. Of course, I’ll still require payment today, as per our agreement.”
“You bitch,” Carrie breathed. “I knew you were a terrible boss, but I hadn’t realized you were actually evil. Why are you doing this? You can’t possibly need me back in Manchester this much. Is it just because I had the audacity to leave?”
“Carrie, really. I don’t know where all this is coming from.” Anna laid a hand on Carrie’s arm, and Carrie only just resisted the urge to scratch it with her perfectly manicured nails. “Maybe this is all getting a bit too much for you. It is a big day, after all. And I did tell you this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. You’re just not ready for this sort of responsibility yet, clearly.”
Carrie gaped, but before she could think of a response other than, “Screw you,” Cyb’s head appeared around the dining room door and she said, “Carrie? They’re ready to start,” and then it was time to go and get Ruth married.
Because her cousin’s wedding day had to be perfect. Even if it killed her. Or Anna bloody Yardley, for that matter.
* * * *
Nate reached the Avalon Inn five minutes before the ceremony began. He’d tried to drive slowly from his gran’s up to the inn, for the sake of the last of the flowers, finished moments before and now sitting in the back seat, but a broken traffic light on the high street had held him up for fifteen minutes while the assorted traffic tried to figure out what to do next, so he’d ended up taking the last mile out of town at something rather above the speed limit.
He just hoped the top table centerpiece had survived.
As the car pulled to a stop on the driveway, he yanked up the handbrake and opened the door, grabbing the flowers from the back seat before running in. He settled the flowers on the top table, reassured himself that everything else looked all right, then strolled, as nonchalantly as he could while still catching his breath, into the lobby.
The lights on the tree sparkled, reflecting in the glossy holly and ivy leaves snaking up the bannister. And at the top of the stairs stood Carrie, her back to him, shining lavender fabric hugging her body. Her auburn hair had been artfully piled up on her head, looking like it might fall down at any second but leaving her neck and a fair portion of her back clear for him to admire her pale skin. She was fussing with something. Nate tore his eyes away from her shoulders long enough to see what. Ruth’s veil. Apparently in his reverie he’d been ignoring the bride. Not a good thing to do on her wedding day.
“You’re all looking very beautiful,” he said, smiling up at the gaggle of bridesmaids.
Ruth smirked down at him, the expression out of place under her veil. “Like you noticed any of the rest of us.” Carrie turned around, and he could see the pinkness of a blush spreading across her neck and cheeks. He swallowed hard. The dress was almost as low cut in the front as it was in the back, and her curves swelled invitingly above the neckline.
“I was admiring the bouquets,” Nate lied. He glanced at the flowers, just to check they were actually holding them, and grinned. Against all the odds, the lavender roses actually matched the dresses. Gran was a miracle worker.
“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Ruth smiled, a more serene smile this time, much more in keeping with the dress. “We had to have them imported from Ecuador.”
Carrie flashed him a look, amusement in her eyes, and Nate hid a smile at the shared secret. If they were lucky, Ruth would never need to know that her flowers actually came from Aberarian and Coed-y-Capel, by way of Moira’s kitchen. “They’re lovely,” was all he said.
Ruth’s father appeared from the bar, top hat perched on his balding head. “Right then. I’ve dispatched the boy to the altar, your mother’s fussing with her hat in the front row. I think we’re ready to go.”
Carrie hopped down the steps to stand beside Nate, saying, “I’ll be right there.”
Ruth gave them both a knowing look, and Nate had a brief moment of panic. “What did I miss?” he whispered, as the other bridesmaids straightened Ruth’s skirt to come down the stairs.
“She thinks we’re pledging undying love,” Carrie muttered back.
Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, necessarily, but it seemed more likely that something else had gone wrong. “What are we actually doing?”
“Jacob’s got some problems in the kitchen. I need you to go and help him and the Seniors sort it out.” Then she was off with Ruth, straightening her veil again.
And Nate was apparently missing the wedding.
“What’s in God’s name happened in here?” Nate asked, surveying the flooded kitchen. Prawns appeared to be escaping, two by two.
“Anna unplugged the fridges,” Jacob said, looking furious.
“So we’ve no food for the reception.” Nate sighed. “Okay, what’s the plan? Where do you need me to go?”
“Stan’s got the main food under control, and Cyb’s gone to charm the marquee guy into lending us those heated trays again.” Jacob looked mutinous. “Not that they’ll help any. It’s not going to be a patch on my seafood starters, or my succulent Welsh lamb, but still.”
“So what do you need from me?” Nate glanced around him again. “Apart from a wetsuit.”
“Mostly? Capers. As many as you can buy at the supermarket, ASAP.” Jacob looked up at him as Nate paused in the doorway, frowning. “Seriously, capers. Now.”
Nate shrugged. If the man wanted capers, that’s what he’d get.
* * * *
Cyb paused in directing one of Stan’s numerous nephews through the hallway leading to the kitchen to peer into the ceremony room. At the makeshift altar, Ruth beamed as she placed a ring on Graeme’s finger. Cyb nodded in approval. Whatever else happened today, they were married now, and that was all Ruth really wanted anyway.
“Where do you want these?” Stan’s nephew asked, staggering under the weight of the metal trays.
Cyb considered. “Let me just ask Jacob.” She popped over to the kitchen, leaving the poor man struggling with the heater trays. “Jacob? Trays are here.”
Jacob leaned his mop against the counter and spun to face her, smiling for the first time that day, that Cyb had seen. “They’re here? Great. Stan reckons he’ll have everything back here in about an hour, and Nate’s gone for capers. Let’s set them up in the dining room.”
He rushed out to help Stan’s nephew shift them back again. Cyb just hoped they wouldn’t disturb the ceremony. Maybe she’d better check if they could hear...
At the front of the Willow Room, Ruth and Graeme kissed, and the congregation clapped and cooed. Which meant they would be coming out, any second now, to go through to the bar. Right past where they were moving the heated trays.
Cyb motioned frantically to where Moira was dabbing at her eyes at the back of the room. After some rather expressive moves, Moira finally caught her eye and shrugged. Cyb gave up and dashed in, hoping everyone would be preoccupied with the happy couple for a moment or two.
“What are we doing?” Moira whispered, as Cyb grabbed the handles at the back of her wheelchair.
“Stalling,” Cyb hissed back. With one eye on the approaching bride and groom, she wheeled Moira slap bang into the middle of the aisle, just before the door, and surreptitiously kicked on the brake. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, creaking down to her knees to cover the brake mechanism with her skirt, in case anyone tried to help. “Just give me a moment here...”
Ruth laughed, and that seemed to give the rest of the party permission to be amused, rather than cross. Even Carrie didn’t interfere, although she did look suspicious. Cyb let out a relieved breath and tried to peer out the door to see if she could spot Jacob and Stan’s nephew passing through.