Summer at the Little Wedding Shop: The hottest new release of summer 2017 - perfect for the beach!

‘Yes, but do White White White allow casual drop ins?’ We both know they don’t. Once I’ve made the point, I soften, due to guilt. ‘Sorry, the truffles went super-fast this year.’ In other words, Poppy, Sera and I wolfed them all when we hauled my stuff upstairs. After four flights the calorie deficit was huge. I fire off a customer-is-always-right smile as I head for the door. ‘Give me a moment. I’ll see what else I can find.’

Lucky for me, there’s more ‘thank you’ confectionery in the kitchen than in a nurses’ station on a surgical ward. Given this is approaching an emergency, I grab a rather spectacular Ferrero Rocher tree, complete with taffeta bow, and head back. A lot more dresses have arrived in the fitting room since I left. But I take it from the simper that greets me, I’ve made an accidental good choice of chocs.

‘What a stroke of serendipity.’ She wiggles her fingers, and plucks a gold ball on a stick from the Ferrero tree. ‘When I marry, I’ll actually be Mrs Ferrara. How apt and absolutely fabulous is that?’

Pure fluke. But it reminds me, she still hasn’t told me her name yet. Even if I’m about to see her in her underwear, it’s somehow too late to ask. At least I know who she’s going to be.

‘Brides by the Sea might not do savoury snacks, but we do our best to have happy brides.’ Five years on, and it’s all coming back to me as if I’d never been away. ‘Which dress would you like to try first?’

The next two hours are so fraught they leave me longing for the calm of fully booked hotels. My worst moment? Discovering the extent of Sera’s new capsule ‘mix and match range’, which Jess has slipped onto the rails to trial. Separate pieces, designed so brides can put them together to create a look that’s completely unique. Silk shifts, chiffon tops, lace over dresses. Beaded sashes, ribbons, sequined tulle skirts, diamanté belts. I swear we’ve tried most of the four million permutations.

‘One last chocolate?’ I hold out the almost bare tree trunk. Believe me, without the soft praline centres from the Ferrero tree we’d both have collapsed of exhaustion after the first three hundred versions.

The future Mrs Ferrara unwraps it, and pops it into her mouth. ‘And only one last dress to try now.’ Whatever lippy has held its own crunching through this many hazelnuts, my mum needs to be let in on the secret.

I sink down into the mother-of-the-bride director’s chair, and pull the fitting room curtain over my head. ‘There’s another?’ I can’t believe we’re not done here.

‘It’s the dress from the Daisy Hill Farm website. From the photo shoot they did there with Poppy’s friend. I fell in love with it last year, but it was too late, I’d already bought my other one.’ She whisks a dress from the end of the rail, and staggers back into the fitting room. ‘Stay there, I can do this.’

If I’d been run over by a tractor I couldn’t be more mangled. But the word ‘farm’ wakes me up. Given they only got engaged last week, the Ferraras will be looking for a venue. There might well be a booking here for Rafe and Poppy.

‘Thinking about the styling …’ I wait until there’s an ‘mmmmm’ from behind the curtain. ‘Have you decided where you’re getting married?’

I’m holding my breath, waiting for a reply when the jolt of the shop door makes me jump. As I reach the hall I come face to face with Poppy.

She frowns and sniffs. ‘You’ve gone wild with the Black Opium today, I can smell it out in the street.’ Then she squints at me more closely. ‘You look dreadful. Have you been out running again?’

I take it she’s talking about my sweat patches, sunken cheeks and haunted eyes.

I gesture frantically towards the striped fitting room curtain behind me. ‘I’ve had three and a half hours with a drop-in bride.’ Then I tip toe back in to the Seraphina East Room, pulling Poppy with me. I turn up my volume so I can definitely be heard in the fitting room. ‘The future Mrs Ferrara is about to show me her wedding dress. And tell me about her venue.’

There’s a rustle, as the curtain moves, and from the flash of green I catch under the hem, for the first time, we’ve got the pricey shoes too.

‘Ta-dah …’ Her smile is wide as she shakes her veil and does as much of a twirl as the shoes allow. It’s actually more of a standstill with an occasional wobble. ‘So much work, but this is definitely “the one”.’ As she scrapes a nail under her eyelashes, her voice is a whisper. ‘Thank you for helping me find it, Lily.’

Brave woman. If I had inch long acrylic nails like hers, there’s no way I’d risk poking my eye out. What’s more, I can’t believe she knew this was the dress she wanted all along, but whatever. That’s customers for you. Before I know it, I’ve grabbed the tissue box, and I’m pushing one into her hand.

‘You look beautiful …’ There’s a bit of a gap where her name should be. I stoop to smooth out the hem, and look to Poppy for reassurance that I’m doing it right.

Poppy’s brow crumples as she peers beyond the veil. ‘Nicole? It is Nicole isn’t it?’

The woman blinks. ‘Poppy! How lovely to see you again.’

The high speed pecks last a nano second. Then the clenched fist shoots out, and we’re back to clustering round first the ring, then the phone.

‘You two know each other?’ Yes, I know I’m stating the obvious, but it’s been a long morning.

Poppy’s nod is decided. ‘We certainly do. And what brilliant news about your new fiancé, Nicole.’ For Poppy, her voice has taken on a brittle edge.

Nicole runs a finger over the delicate lace covering her arms. ‘The best part is, it’s not just love where I’m getting another bite of the cherry, I’m getting second chances all round. This time I’m getting everything right, including the dress.’

‘You are,’ Poppy and I cry together, even though Poppy has no idea how heartfelt that is on my side.

A red nail comes up to quieten us. ‘And this time I’m a hundred per cent sure. I definitely want to get married in the farmhouse at Daisy Hill, Poppy. It’s what I wanted all along last time. Whatever the size, we’ll make the wedding fit the venue. And Lily’s already agreed to be my stylist.’

I’m beaming because this is such good news. All round.

‘Absolutely not.’ Poppy jumps in so firmly, Nicole and I are left gawping. Whatever happened to Poppy grabbing every booking she could?

Poppy senses she’s answered too fast. ‘What I mean is, I’m so sorry, but that won’t be possible. We’re fully booked in the farmhouse for this year. But I know you’d love Rose Hill Manor. It’s a brand-new venue, just down the road. It’s very up-market, and I’ve heard they’re doing fabulous deals on bookings for this year.’

‘Up-market?’ For the first time all morning, Nicole sounds uncertain. ‘I know the cottages were rough and ready, but there can’t be anywhere as perfect as your farmhouse.’

Rough and ready? Ouch to that. Maybe that’s my clue.

Poppy’s nodding furiously at me. ‘Seraphina’s sister got married at Rose Hill Manor at Christmas. It was magical.’

At least we both know she’s sincere about this. She was there. The photos are phenomenal. Who wouldn’t want a horse drawn carriage and a white Christmas wedding? Not that Nicole would be expecting snow if she’s marrying in summer.

So I chime in. ‘It’s exclusive use, my mum saw it and she said it was amazing.’ Okay. I know she didn’t say that exact word. But she must have thought that if she wanted to book it. Even as I throw that in, I’m struck by how like my mum Nicole is. ‘And best news of all for your shoes, it’s a mud-free zone.’

‘Right.’ Nicole’s expression lightens.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. As if on cue. It’s a text from my mum.

Hi Lily, There’s a preview day at the Manor on Saturday. If you’d like to come, Mum

As for signing texts with a name, why do people do that?

‘Excuse me looking at my phone, but I just heard. It’s Open House at Rose Hill Manor on Saturday. There’s so much scope there for making a truly individual wedding, you should take a look Nicole. And lots of availability for this year too.’ I pull a face at Poppy, because I can’t believe I’m talking up the opposition. Especially given the way she’s slicing her hand across her throat at the mention of the open day. ‘And seeing the time, Nicole, we’d better get you out of your dress, and off to the salon.’

There’s a glint in Poppy’s eye. ‘If you do decide to book at Rose Hill Manor, Nicole, don’t forget to mention we sent you.’

The sooner I get Nicole out of here and find out what’s going on with Poppy, the better.

Chapter 7 (#ulink_b07e03bc-604a-5a08-8331-8c2f78b40660)

Tuesday, 21st Feb

At Daisy Hill Farm: Ironing piles and storage solutions

In the end, Poppy had to leave the shop before Nicole, so I didn’t get to find out why she was turning down her booking. But she did offer us some space in the converted buildings up at Daisy Hill Farm, which is why I zoom over there as soon as Jess gets back to the shop.

‘Jess wants us to buy in props to hire out for styling, so we’ll need somewhere to store them between weddings,’ I explain to Rafe, as we pass him humping some kind of sack up the yard. Jess has decided to invest in things we’ll use a lot, and hire in the more unusual items. ‘With any luck most of the weddings will be here at the farm anyway, so it would be great to keep them on the spot.’ Handy for Rose Hill Manor too, just down the lane, but I skip over that.

‘Great, help yourself.’ Rafe almost spins on his wellies, but at the last minute he turns back. ‘By the way, our friend Fred was asking if I’d seen you. He mentioned a shirt? And a date?’

Crap. ‘Tell him no worries, it’s on its way to the ironing pile.’ Which sounds a whole lot better than, ‘It’s in the washing bag’. The down side of washing it is that I’ll have to get in touch to give it back. As for the date part, I blank that.