Christmas at the Little Wedding Shop

‘I’m overseeing a polished-concrete installation, and the frigging mix hasn’t set.’

It’s a rarefied world she lives in. Only Alice would polish concrete. And she doesn’t usually swear either.

‘I see,’ I say, even though I don’t at all. ‘Isn’t it all a bit last minute?’

Her cheeks blow out. ‘It’s a rush job for a diplomat. I pulled it in to help pay for all the wedding extras.’ The heartfelt groan she lets out is very unlike her. ‘I so want all our guests to have a white Christmas they’ll remember forever.’

There you go. I knew she was counting on snow. And with expectations like that, she’s setting herself up for a fall. I try to let her down gently. ‘I’m not completely sure it will be white.’ In fact I’m a hundred percent sure it won’t be.

‘It simply has to snow, Sera.’ She’s wringing her hands, and her wail is so loud my laptop vibrates. ‘What’s the point in getting married at Christmas otherwise?’

Between us, a lot of people get married in December because it’s cheaper. Not that I’m cynical, but Alice getting married in Cornwall has more to do with the fabulous venue they’ve got their hands on, than the location itself.

‘The sparkle will be seriously special with all your gorgeous touches,’ I say, feeling weird that I’m suddenly trying to sell this to her. ‘And the log fires.’ I’m trying my hardest to reassure her here. ‘And it’ll be great getting everyone together.’

‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she says, calmer now. Although she can’t be completely herself, because she doesn’t usually go overboard with the gratitude. ‘And I promise I’ll be with you as soon as I can. But until I get there, please can you look after things for me? Be my stand-in project manager on the ground?’

I’m blinking, screwing up my face. ‘What… me…?’ She can’t be serious.

It’s no secret the rest of my family are all hugely brainy and successful. But where Alice surpassed all expectations, I’m the big let-down. From full-on public humiliation when I had to re-take GCSE maths, to going off to college to do fashion, I’ve been the family embarrassment my entire life. We both know I struggle to manage my own tiny life. Not to mention the designs I should be doing. Adding in more is asking for trouble.

‘Don’t worry, the earliest jobs are mainly humping stuff around,’ she says, making me wonder why I’m needed at all. ‘Dan’s besties will be providing the muscle, but you’ll oversee.’ Her face lights up with a new thought. ‘You can be navigator. You’re the perfect person to guide them around. Go with them. Keep an eye on what they’re doing.’ Her nod is horribly decided.

‘Navigator?’ I mouth back at her, my voice a squeak. Alice really has no idea. I barely know my way round St Aidan, let alone anywhere else. I go from the shop, to the bakery, to the cottage, to the beach. And back again via the corner shop or café. I’ve barely done a thousand miles in gran’s car in the three years since she died. The airport was going to be a major challenge. Then I have my own brainwave. ‘There has to be someone better than me?’

We’re family and we’ll always have that tie. But the last few years you couldn’t say we’ve been close. Although my parents appreciated me coming down to Cornwall to keep an eye on my gran when I gave up my gap-year travel, I’m not sure Alice approved. After that there was always a distance between us. And it was about more than the miles between here and London. Gran and I liked to think of ourselves as the Cornish free-spirit family outpost. And when Gran died two years ago, everyone in London was happy to let me stay on in her cottage by the harbour. But Alice has never been interested in my life down here.

‘Actually I’ve thought about this very carefully.’ She’s tapping her pen on her front tooth. ‘You’re my sister, you’re genetically programmed to stand up for me. I won’t get better than that.’

‘Really.’ I can’t hold back my ironic smile. It’s so like Alice to analyse her problem so clinically.

She looks vaguely hurt. ‘Truly, Sera, you’re the only person I can truly trust for this. Deep down, you’re the one who knows me best, you instinctively know the choices I’d make. Which makes you the perfect person to make them for me, until I arrive. And to back me up when I get there too. Pleeeease say you will. There’s so much to do.’

If I’m blinking at her, it’s because she sounds so desperate. She’s strong, she never begs.

As she comes towards the screen her voice drops to a whisper. ‘I had no idea I’d find it this tough, it’s all turning out to be a total nightmare. As for Dan and his friends, if I’m not there to control them, anything could happen. You’re the only one who’ll understand what I’d mind about. You’re the one who’ll care enough to fight my corner… head them off… sort them out… stamp on their wilder ideas. You know what guys can be like? Sometimes I get the feeling they don’t give a damn at all…’

Actually I don’t have the first idea about guys, given I’m singleton of the decade. But I am familiar with Alice’s mindset. I know she’s meticulous about every detail, and maddeningly uncompromising. And I can see how uptight she is. What’s more, she’s right. I completely understand where she’s coming from, even if I don’t always get it. The only problem is, I’m a complete wimp. I’ve never fought anyone in my life. I’ve never had to. Because Alice always did the fighting for me.

Looking back on our childhood we didn’t have a bad time. It’s just our parents were busy with other things. But Alice was the kind of big sister who looked out for me every step of the way. I can still hear her bawling at the kids who made fun of me because my corkscrew curls were almost white. And when my wedding Barbie’s head dropped off, Alice toasted marsh mallows over a candle to make me smile again. Then my first week at senior school when I got to the top of the wall bars and froze, she ran out of her chemistry lesson to talk me down. I know I took her for granted back then, but looking back, she was the person who made every day okay for me. This is my first chance ever to pay her back. I owe it to her to step up here.

Alice smoothes her fingers across her cheekbones, then drags her bob behind her ears. ‘If it’s easier, think of yourself as head bridesmaid.’

‘Oh my.’ Worse and worse. When I signed up for bridesmaid duties it was to look awful in a dress for twelve hours, while carrying a posy. And smile for the photographer, so long as he wasn’t arsey. Something tells me if I agree to this, I’m about to add in a whole lot more.

‘Every detail’s covered. It’s just a matter of making it all happen. It’s all in the Wedding Handbook – you’ve got that haven’t you?’

‘Of course.’ Despite myself, I’m grinning. It’s under the waste-paper mountain in the studio. I opened it at a random page, saw a sentence about the bridal party not sleeping together, and slammed it shut again. But given how fat it is, I suspect Alice has every item nailed. Apart from her late arrival, obviously. And the groom’s friends who won’t do as they’re told.

‘Stop worrying, you’ll be awesome. You might even enjoy it.’ She’s suddenly sounding a whole lot better. ‘Dan’s best man’s got your number, he’ll pick you up in the morning. He said “ten at the Surf Shack”. Does that mean anything to you?’

‘Yes.’ It’s my local caf, but I’m hyperventilating too hard to say.

That’s the thing about Alice. She isn’t exactly a Bridezilla, because she never makes a fuss, she simply powers through. And if I’ve got to step in to keep her plans on track, even if it’s only for a couple of days, it’s a huge responsibility. What happens if I break the wedding?

‘There you go. Knowing the Surf Shack, that’s a great start.’ Alice’s air punch is so unlike her it leaves me blinking as her fist rushes towards the screen. ‘We’re Team Bride, Sera. We’ll do this together.’

Which kind of sounds like a bit of a contradiction, given she’s not going to be here.

‘Any other queries, ring me, okay?’

Did I actually agree to do this? There’s a thousand questions I should be asking, but my mind’s gone blank. As for who the best man is, I want to weave that in too, but Alice has started again.

‘Thanks so much, Sera, I’ll catch you very soon, I promise. And good luck.’ Then the screen goes blank. And she’s gone.

***

‘What a morning.’ First Johnny, then this. I’m stomping around in my kitten heels, pink-sequined tulle flapping against my legs. Right now I’m thinking of heading for the beach, and running. And not stopping until I reach Scotland. Or maybe Wales?

‘What am I going to do, Jess? I mean you know me, it’ll be a disaster.’

Jess is still on the chaise longue, with wiggles in her forehead I haven’t seen before. ‘I know I “baby” you at times, Sera. But it’s time you took more responsibility.’ She narrows her eyes. ‘Read Alice’s Wedding Book carefully. Then go and smash it. And Dan’s friends will be helping too.’ That thought smoothes out the lines on her brow. ‘Weddings are romantic times. Throw in Christmas, and who knows what will happen.’

Hang on. Whatever happened to our Brides by the Sea singles solidarity? Jess came to it because of a disgusting divorce, which makes it all the more surprising that she managed to rubbish our whole ethos in one tiny sentence there.

‘Forget Christmas and cupid dust, Jess, I’m not on the market.’ I grit my teeth. ‘In any case, it clearly says in the manual “no hook-ups in the bridal party”.’ Go Alice. Sometimes she really does think she can control the world.

‘Really?’ Jess looks gobsmacked.

If there’s one teensy bit of silver lining in this very black wedding cloud, it’s that I’m off the coupledom hook here.

As my pointy boots finally get the better of me, I sink down into one of the Louis Quatorze chairs that are meant for mums of our brides. The last time I collapsed into one of these chairs was when I found out Josie Redman wanted me to design her wedding dress. That pushed me a thousand miles out of my comfort zone, but it was nothing compared to this.

Jess beams. ‘I’ve got a feeling this might be the making of you, Sera. Remember our mantra? “Feel the fear and do it anyway”.’

I think she might have said that last time too. But last time, there was gin, which frankly I could do with now. And so long as I kept my nerve, last time I only had to do my job and design a fabulous dress. And if I’d messed up, there were a hundred people waiting to take my place. So that was easy in comparison.

This time failure is not an option, and I don’t have the first clue what I’m doing. And this is Alice’s wedding at stake. That’s not just any wedding. This will have to be the most perfect wedding, in the world. Ever. Delivered exactly as Alice ordered it.

I scrunch up my face and try to find a thought to get me through. It’s a few short days. It’ll be over before I know it. And a few days never changed anyone, did they?

3 (#u60404d61-4139-5196-bb00-56345d14b5f7)

Friday, 16th December

In the studio at Brides by the Sea: After dark

A lot later that evening, hours after everyone else left, I’m up in the studio. Perching on a stool, in a pool of light, at the high cutting table. Sorting through swatches of lace, fingering pieces of silk. Staring out of the blackness of the windows, to see the distant lights of boats on the sea. Starting a drawing, then tossing it aside and beginning another. Even if I’m making no progress at all on the designs, at least I feel like I’m putting the time in.