The Wedding that Changed Everything: a gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy

‘See?’ Alice arches an eyebrow at me, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ‘I told you it’d be fabulous. Ooh, Uncle Ned!’ She darts off suddenly, waving her arms to draw the attention of a short, portly man with white, wispy hair and a cane.

‘Alice, dear. How lovely to see you.’ He pats Alice on the back as she throws her arms around him. ‘I had no idea you’d arrived.’

‘I’ve only just got here. I’m looking for Carolyn, or maybe my dad?’

‘I think Carolyn is off showing Piers the chapel. I don’t think he’s seen it yet.’ Ned’s lips turn down at the corners. ‘As for your father…’ His bushy brows lift. ‘I’m afraid he’s been delayed and won’t be here until this evening, maybe not until tomorrow.’

‘Oh.’ Alice smiles brightly, though I know it takes great effort and suspect Ned knows it too. ‘Never mind. There’s still plenty of time before the wedding.’

‘Absolutely. Plenty of time.’ Ned smiles kindly at his niece. ‘Anyway, before I forget to tell you, I found some old photos while we were renovating the south wing. I thought you might like to keep them. I did mean to send them on to you, but I’m afraid it’s all getting a bit foggy up here.’ He taps his temple and chuckles. ‘Old age is setting in, I’m afraid.’

Alice tuts. ‘You’re not old, Uncle Ned.’

He chuckles again. ‘I’m not young any more, either. I was thinking about having a stairlift installed, but your Aunt Delia says it wouldn’t be in keeping with the castle.’

‘I don’t suppose it would.’ Alice turns to me. ‘Sorry, how rude of me. Emily, this is my Uncle Ned. Uncle Ned, this is my best friend, Emily.’

‘Lovely to meet you.’ Ned shakes my hand with a firm but brief grip.

‘Do you know which rooms Emily and I are staying in?’ Alice asks him.

‘I don’t have the list to hand.’ Ned looks around him, as though the list will suddenly leap up and present itself. ‘My Lilianna has taken charge of the day-to-day running of the events. She’s around here somewhere…’

‘It’s okay, Ned.’ There’s a clacking of heels on the polished floor as Francelia swoops in towards us. ‘Alice, Emily, come with me. I’ll show you to your room.’ Without pausing for pleasantries, Francelia forges ahead, leading the way while Alice and I scrabble to keep up. Grabbing our suitcases from outside the great hall only slows us down and Francelia appears to be in a hurry and refuses to stop.

‘You have a lovely room overlooking the orchard,’ she calls over her shoulder as she marches up the stairs. She reaches the top before we’re even a third of the way up. ‘Come along, girls. I can’t hang around playing tour guide all day. There is so much to do when you’re the mother of the bride.’

‘You’re not the mother of the bride.’ It’s rare for Alice to speak up against Francelia, but I can see she’s riled and struggling to keep herself contained. Her suitcase bears the brunt of it as she manhandles it up the stairs.

Francelia gives a wave of her hand. ‘Stepmother of the bride then. I don’t know why you have to be so pernickety. It isn’t an attractive trait.’ She strides off again, leaving Alice and I to huff and puff our way up the stairs with the suitcases. Thankfully, Francelia leads us to a room on the first floor so we don’t have to tackle another set of stairs.

‘Here you are.’ Francelia opens the door with a flourish, stepping aside so we can drag our suitcases inside.

‘A twin room?’ Alice asks. ‘I thought we’d have rooms of our own.’

‘Emily did take up her place at the last minute,’ Francelia says, still standing on the threshold like an uninvited vampire. With her deathly pale skin and black trouser suit, she could easily pass. ‘And we’ve had a couple of other latecomers, so it’s been a bit of a squeeze accommodating everyone. Besides, you’re both single girls. It isn’t as though you need double rooms to yourselves. There’s no need to be greedy, Alice.’

‘I wasn’t being…’ Alice says, but she’s cut off when Francelia holds up a silencing hand.

‘Let’s not make a fuss. This is Carolyn’s wedding. We don’t want to spoil her big day. We don’t want any mishaps, do we?’ Francelia gives Alice a pointed look and my friend seems to shrink into herself.

‘No.’ She smiles weakly at me. ‘This’ll be more fun anyway, like we’re back at university in halls.’

I don’t point out that Alice never resided in halls while we were at university; that her father, for all his faults, bought the house we still live in now so she could be close enough to commute but still have her own, decent space.

‘We’re going to have a brilliant time.’ My voice is bursting with extra gushiness for Francelia’s benefit. I suspect she thought putting Alice and I together in a twin room would rile Alice, but I won’t let her win. ‘It’ll be like having a sleepover. We can gossip and watch girly films and paint our nails.’

‘Makeovers!’ Alice claps her hands together. ‘We can give each other makeovers!’

I squeal (again for Francelia’s benefit. I have never squealed in my life before, unless it’s in the presence of a spider, which is totally acceptable). ‘And have a pillow fight in our pyjamas!’

‘Midnight feasts!’

‘Ooh.’ My eyes widen, and I clasp my hands together. ‘Truth or dare!’

‘And make prank calls.’ Alice mimes holding a phone to her ear. ‘Hello? Is that Pepe? Pepe Roni?’

I pick up my own invisible phone. ‘I’m looking for a Claire Voyance.’

‘I’m looking for my Aunt Teaks.’

‘Can I speak to Connie? Connie Lingus?’

‘All right, that’s enough.’ Francelia is holding up the silencing hand again. ‘Whatever you do, please respect the other guests and keep the noise down.’

I bet she’s wishing she’d put us in separate rooms now. I can’t help feeling a tiny bit smug.

‘And please, for Carolyn’s sake if nothing else, keep your fingers to yourself.’

I turn to Alice, my face pulling into a ‘what the hell is she talking about?’ face, but Alice is looking down at the floor, her cheeks turning pink.

‘Carolyn wasn’t sure what time everybody would be arriving, so she’s provided welcome baskets packed with lunch.’ Francelia’s lip starts to curl as she points out the baskets on the ends of each bed, but catches it in time and smooths it out. ‘It isn’t as formal as the setting befits, but she insisted, I’m afraid. Dinner will be served at six in the great hall, followed by dancing and cocktails in the ballroom. Please dress appropriately.’ Francelia cocks an eyebrow in my direction before looking me up and down, taking in my jeans, T-shirt and ballet flats ensemble. I fight the urge to mimic her condescending tone.

‘We’ll see you down there,’ Alice says, reaching for the door in a massive hint for the evil one to bog off. Thankfully she takes the hint, leaving Alice and I alone to flop on our beds. This week will be fun, despite Francelia and her grimacing face.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_d2116a39-fc38-5985-8b80-2b6be4d02f1d)

Although the lunches Carolyn has packed don’t meet Francelia’s uber-snobbish standards, they certainly tick all my boxes. There’s a selection of cooked meats and cheeses, crusty bread rolls, mini pots of potato salad and pasta, bite-sized pork pies, packets of hand-cooked crisps, and salted caramel brownies, all to be washed down with mini bottles of Prosecco.

‘I can’t eat another thing, ever again.’ I flop down onto my pillow, ready for a food-induced nap. There’s still food left over, though I’ve managed to remove all traces of the booze.

‘Me either.’ Alice rubs her stomach, but instead of settling down for a snooze, she clambers off the bed. ‘Let’s walk off all this food and have a tour of the castle.’

She’s having a giraffe, right?

‘Come on,’ she coaxes when I refuse to move anything but my eyelids, allowing them to droop. ‘You can’t sleep the week away. There’s so much to see.’

‘Later,’ I mumble. Much later. Like, tomorrow. ‘Ouch! Gerrof.’ Alice has grabbed my arm and is attempting to tug me off the bed. Unfortunately for Alice, she’s built like a particularly petite pixie and I’ve gained several pounds during our bedroom picnic. But where she lacks stature, Alice’s determination is in abundance. I’ve never met a more resolute woman in my life. If there’s something Alice wants, she’ll keep going until she gets it. Her only downfall is her family, but they won’t help anchor me to the bed right now.

‘All right, all right.’ I wrestle my arm away, checking for bruising as I force my body up into a sitting position. ‘I think you’ve taken a layer of skin off.’

‘Don’t be so soft.’ Alice holds a hand out to help me up off the bed. I don’t take it, fearing the removal of a digit or two in the process, and somehow stand up on my own steam despite my body crying out to be horizontal again. ‘So, what do you want to see first? Inside the castle or out?’

Right now, I want to see the inside of my eyelids, but that clearly isn’t an option. ‘Outside, I guess. The fresh air might wake me up.’

We head out of our room, making our way back down the red-carpeted staircase and ending up in the opulent entrance hall. There are a few people mingling around now and Alice grasps my hand and tows me towards a bloke admiring a painting of an ugly old boot with wrinkled skin and eyes that are glaring so hard, I suspect she despised the artist. She introduces me to the bloke, but I quickly forget his name when I notice he’s wearing a cravat. A cravat! I can’t take any man seriously when he’s wearing a flipping cravat.

‘Well?’ Alice whispers when we finally wander away, leaving Mr Cravat to admire more paintings of Alice’s ancient relatives. ‘What did you think?’