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The Wedding that Changed Everything by Jennifer Joyce (6)

I feel myself slump as soon as he’s out of view, hands resting on my thighs as I try to get my breath back. I would never admit I’m struggling, but now I’m alone, I can admit how exhausted I am by the short trip up the steps. But I forget all about the suitcases and my fatigue as I take in my surroundings.

Wow.

Just wow.

The wide entrance hall is lit by a giant, glittering chandelier and dozens of decorative wall sconces dotted in between large, gilt-framed portraits of the Monroe ancestry. The floor is covered in a patchwork of black and white tiles, while a red-carpeted staircase stands in front of me, leading up to the first floor. Lots of doors lead off to a warren of rooms at the sides and I’m not sure where I should be heading. The castle is humongous and my room could be anywhere. I’m sure I’d find myself lost within minutes, but Alice should be here any second now to lead the way. In the meantime, I grapple with the suitcases once more, somehow wrestling them towards the staircase, where I sit gratefully on the second step, exhausted after my suitcase skirmish.

‘Alice!’ I’m so relieved to see my friend after a considerable wait that I forget my thighs have turned to jelly and jump up from the stairs. ‘What took you so long?’

‘I had to phone Kevin to let him know we’d arrived safely.’ Alice retrieves her vanity case from where I’ve dumped it on the floor and grabs the handle of her suitcase. ‘And then I got chatting to one of Piers’ cousins. Lovely young man. Gave me his card.’ She pulls out a familiar cream business card embossed with gold and black lettering. ‘I thought I’d try to introduce you to him at dinner, but if not, we have his number.’

‘I don’t think so.’ I pluck the card from Alice’s fingers and tear it in two. ‘We’ve already spoken, and he’s no Prince Charming.’

Alice sighs. ‘It was the teeth, wasn’t it? I knew they’d get in the way.’

‘You’re not kidding. Those choppers must obstruct the guy’s life on a daily basis.’

‘That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.’ Alice gives a firm tug of her suitcase and marches along the hall. ‘This guy could be The One, but you’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance.’

‘He’s already somebody’s One.’ I’m scuttling after Alice, battling once again with the suitcase. Alice is gliding along but my wheels aren’t playing ball and it’s a struggle pulling the suitcase in a straight line. ‘He’s married.’

‘What?’ Alice comes to a stop, which is the perfect time for my suitcase’s wheels to play nice. I only just manage to stop myself from toppling into her.

‘He’s married,’ I repeat. ‘And his poor wife is pregnant.’

Alice’s forehead furrows. ‘Son of a bucket.’

‘Yes.’ I’m glad we’re on the same page. Sort of. I’d have used an actual expletive, personally. ‘Now you see why I ripped up his business card.’

‘Absolutely.’ Her brow furrows deeper. ‘I can’t believe he hoodwinked me.’

‘It’s the teeth,’ I say as we set off again. ‘They’re pretty distracting.’

Alice huffs out another sigh as we reach the first door. She pushes it open, stepping back again when she sees the room is empty.

‘We need to find Carolyn so we can find out which rooms we’ll be staying in. Then I can give you the guided tour of the castle – and its male guests.’

Yippee, I think as I trundle after her.

‘Are we the only ones staying here?’ I whisper as we poke our heads into yet another empty room. I don’t know why I’m whispering; we haven’t seen another soul since we stepped inside.

‘It’s still quite early,’ Alice says as she leads the way to the next room. ‘People might not arrive until after lunch, maybe not even until this evening. Plus, some of the guests are only arriving on the day. Even Piers’ parents aren’t coming until Wednesday. Ah-ha!’ Using her foot to hold open the door, she motions for me to step inside, following after me.

‘Jeez.’ I look around the great hall, my jaw dropping to the ballet flats on my feet. The room is unbelievably long, with a massive, arched window at the end, reaching up to the breathtakingly high ceiling. More arched windows along one side flood the room with light.

‘This is beautiful. Stunning. Why did I ever think it was a bad idea to come here?’

‘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.

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