My wedding day, and I was awake far too early. Nerves and worry must prevent most brides from getting a good night’s sleep – totally unfair, for someone expected to look their best – but with everything that had happened yesterday, it was hardly surprising I’d lain awake most of the night.

I hauled myself out of bed and went over to the window to gaze at my favourite view – the sunlight dappling through the trees in the orchard and making the dew on the grass sparkle like crystals. It was going to be a beautiful day, weather-wise. As for the rest, who knew?

All I knew for certain was that I needed a large mug of tea.

Showered and in a thin robe, I went around the side of the house to the kitchen. Nick was already at the table, a mug in front of him, blond hair flopping across his forehead.

‘Hi, sis. You know it’s strange, coming around the outside of the house like that?’

‘Yeah, I know. It’s just the way the house is configured.’

I made my tea – must rehydrate the complexion before Sophie arrived with her magic make-up – and joined him at the table.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his eyes full of concern.

‘I’m fine.’ When he gave me a disbelieving look, I viciously held back a confession of my wider troubles, only saying, ‘We could have done without it. But it’s only a question of bad timing.’

‘Do you reckon they’ll both come? Adrien and Sabine? Together?’

‘I’d like to think so, if only because the children need them both today. They had enough trauma last night.’ I sighed. ‘Gabriel and Chloe were already nervous about the wedding, Nick. I don’t think we can expect them to play out their roles now. Especially if Sabine doesn’t come. And I won’t be surprised if it’s only Adrien.’

Nick cocked his head to one side. ‘You’re taking it well, considering.’

You have no idea.

He reached for my hand across the table. ‘I’m so proud of you, Emmy.’

I looked at him quizzically. ‘What for?’

‘For being brave enough to come out here and start a new life for yourself in a place you love. And for being too sensible to get around to marrying a dick called Nathan, and getting married to a great guy called Alain instead. You’re gutsy and fun and kind, and Alain’s a lucky man.’

My stomach lurched as I thought about the events of last night and how things had been left between me and Alain. But that couldn’t detract from my little brother’s words.

‘Awww, Nick. What a sweet thing to say.’

‘If I can’t be mushy on your wedding day, when would I ever get around to it?’

We grinned inanely at each other.

And then I heard Mum’s voice at the top of the stairs, bossing Dad around before the poor man had even set foot out of his bedroom door.

‘For heaven’s sake, Dennis, stop faffing with it and come along. I need a cup of tea.’

‘That’s your morning peace over,’ Nick observed. ‘All three minutes of it. Prepare to be bossed, bullied and primped.’ A knock at the door. ‘I’ll go. You’re not decent.’

He was back thirty seconds later. ‘Did you order flowers, by any chance?’

‘Duh.’

‘The florist wants you to check them over, and she doesn’t trust me to do it. Can’t think why.’ He grinned. ‘She’s at her van.’

I went out in my robe – they must see hundreds of brides in robes on their wedding morning, surely? – and took a look.

Perfect. Simple and effective, not too showy. The white and lilac roses with the one deep purple in each bouquet were elegant, and the slim sprigs of lavender inserted in between wafted a light scent that would last all day.

I startled Madame Pascal by thanking her with a kiss, then sighed as I looked at Chloe’s sweet little basket of roses. I could only hope that she might want to go ahead with being our flower girl, but I had a sinking feeling she wouldn’t feel able to.

Mum’s attitude was slightly less icy towards me this morning – even she couldn’t ignore the trauma I’d been put through the night before my wedding – but there was still a fair covering of frost as I gave her the heads-up as I saw it.

‘We could be one page boy and one flower girl down today, Mum.’

She nodded curtly. ‘I’m not surprised. Those poor children.’ Her voice softened a little. ‘Let’s hope they feel able to attend at all, shall we, and be grateful for that?’

‘If they do, I suspect it will be just with their dad. I can’t see Sabine wanting to come now.’

Mum pursed her lips. ‘I told you she should never have been invited.’

‘And I told you it was impossible not to invite her if we were inviting Adrien and the kids.’

‘Well, that’s all gone to pot now, anyway, hasn’t it?’

Talk about stating the obvious. ‘Yes, it has.’

Yup. Plenty of frost. I could only hope the wedding today would melt it a little, as Dad had suggested.

A knock at the door brought welcome relief in the form of Mireille. She accepted the cup of tea Mum offered her and sat at the table with us.

‘I came to tell you that I’ve spoken to Sabine this morning, God help me.’

Mum nodded in sympathetic solidarity.

‘She’s talked to the children, and they still want to come to the wedding, but Sabine told them she couldn’t join them. That they would have to come with their father. They were so upset.’ She sighed. ‘Chloe is in no state to be your flower girl, Emmy. I doubt Gabriel could perform his role, either.’

I reached across to take her hand. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’d love it if they could be there, but they mustn’t feel they have to come.’

She nodded. ‘Sabine will do her best to encourage them to come, even if they’re in their ordinary clothes.’

‘Thank you.’

Mireille left, and Mum cleared away the cups.

‘Will you call Alain and tell him about the children?’ she called over her shoulder.

My heart sank. ‘No need. He’ll have guessed.’

I’d reached for my mobile a dozen times already, since I got up. And each time, I’d bottled out with every excuse under the sun. It was too early – if he’d lain awake all night like me, but managed to doze off, let him sleep. If he … if he’d changed his mind about today, surely he would call me. He was a good man. He wouldn’t leave me hanging. I could call him later, when I was sure he’d be up. When he’d had time to come to terms with the sudden upheaval in his life.

The next time I reached for my phone, alone in my room, determined that this time I would dial, the girls arrived and took my chance away.

Or gave me yet another excuse, depending on how you looked at it.

‘How do you feel?’ I asked Sophie, who’d been driven over by Ellie. I was concerned that it would be too long a day for her. ‘No sickness?’

‘No. Sometimes I feel blurgh, but not today.’ She wouldn’t tell me, even if she felt dreadful. ‘But how are you? Ellie told me what happened last night. I am so sorry.’

Kate, who had joined us in her robe, shot me a worried glance.

I shrugged. ‘It’s not perfect, but you can’t have everything, can you?’

‘I suppose not. Well, I have some good news for you all, at least.’ Sophie pulled make-up and hair tools and heaven knew what from her copious holdall, while Kate cooed with undisguised delight.

‘We had enough excitement with the last news you gave us,’ Ellie commented drily, pointing at Sophie’s middle. ‘Don’t tell us there are twins in there!’

‘I don’t think so.’ Sophie smiled. ‘Ryan has found work here for the winter. He won’t have to go home.’

‘Oh, Sophie, that’s brilliant.’ I gave her a hug. ‘What kind of work?’

‘The decorator in town. They have taken on a lot of jobs and they would like someone to help temporarily. And we’re going to look for somewhere to rent together before spring. We want to be settled before the baby is born.’

‘No wedding plans?’ Kate asked curiously.

Sophie laughed. ‘No. I think I have caused enough change for Ryan by getting pregnant. And if he had proposed, I would have said no.’

Ellie frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Because I would always worry that he only asked because of the baby. I think we will be good together without being married.’ She looked worriedly at me. ‘No offence, Emmy.’

‘None taken. I’m so pleased for you, Sophie. You two are made for each other.’

‘Talking of which.’ Ellie turned to Kate. ‘You and Nick were getting along famously last night.’

Kate’s cheeks went a little pink, but she managed a nonchalant shrug. ‘We’ve known each other for years, that’s all. We’re old friends.’

‘No possibilities between you two?’

Kate fidgeted with a blusher brush. ‘Nick’s the flighty sort. That’s not what I need right now, even if I was interested – which I’m not.’

Sophie, Ellie and I exchanged glances.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ I said carefully. ‘Nick said something the other day that made me think he might be ready to settle down. He just needs to find the right person.’

But Kate shrugged again, feigning disinterest, and Sophie let her off the hook by getting going with our beautification.

I was conscious that Kate was watching me like a hawk, and shot her a look that said I’m going to pretend my head isn’t in turmoil and I don’t feel sick. She gave me the slightest nod of acknowledgement back, but I knew that wouldn’t stop her worrying.

Hair was tied back while potions and primers and foundations were applied. Then hair. Ellie’s short and darker red crop was tweaked till it looked choppy and fun, Kate’s was straightened into perfection, and mine was loosely waved as planned. Sophie had little to do with her own pert, wavy bob. Then back to the make-up – blushers matched to each skin tone, eyes, eyelashes, with lips to be left till the last minute.

‘I want to take you back to England with me,’ Kate said to Sophie as she gawped at her reflection. ‘I need you every morning before I go to work.’

Sophie tutted as she inspected her handiwork on my face. ‘You need more concealer, Emmy. You didn’t sleep well?’

‘No. Sorry.’ I spied Madame Dupont’s little leather box on the dressing table in front of me and decided a change of subject was in order. Reaching out, I opened the box to show them the antique earrings, and explained all about my unexpected gift.

‘Oh, Emmy. They are absolutely gorgeous!’ Sophie held them up to the light. ‘They will glint in the sunshine, and they will go perfectly with your dress.’

Ellie nodded, taking them from her and holding one against my ear. ‘How beautiful! And how thoughtful of her.’

Kate took up her camera and snapped a shot of the moment. She’d been doing the same all morning.

I knew I’d argued for informal, personal shots from Bob – but there’s personal and there’s personal, and I wasn’t sure about these photos of our transformations. But Sophie and Kate insisted that everybody took them nowadays, Kate had promised not to take any of us in our underwear and plaster them on social media, and she’d agreed we could veto any we weren’t comfortable with.

Ellie laughed as Kate lowered her camera. ‘This is the part of the day where Bob should be grateful he isn’t a professional wedding photographer, or he’d be in here with us, taking pictures whilst trying not to look!’

‘I wonder if he’ll come to the wedding in jeans,’ I mused.

‘Maybe he’ll iron them in honour of the occasion.’

‘Maybe he will even iron his beard!’ Sophie moved past the bed, knocking off the hair straighteners. She and Kate bent at the same time to retrieve them and banged heads.

‘This room’s too small,’ Ellie complained. ‘Who said it was a good idea for you to get married from here?’

‘I did,’ I reminded her. ‘Heaven knows, we discussed it often enough. Surely you remember?’

Ellie curled her lip. ‘My brain may have shut down when it got bored.’

Sophie laughed. ‘Ellie, you know why. Emmy and Kate are already here, and my flat is too small for playing with kittens.’

Kate’s eyes opened wide.

‘She means too small to swing a cat,’ I translated.

‘I recall making you a generous offer to use my house,’ Ellie said, hands on hips as she surveyed the chaos in the room, every surface covered in make-up and tools, every doorframe bearing a dress, the floor littered with shoe boxes and accessory boxes.

‘Your house is too far out,’ Sophie told her. ‘And Emmy’s mother wants to help with the dresses.’

I inwardly sighed. My mother had wanted to help with the dresses, but that was before I told her she’d been helping too much. That I was sick of her help.

Ah, well. I could only play that one by ear.

‘Do we get a glass of something bubbly soon?’ Ellie asked hopefully. ‘Isn’t that tradition? A bit of Dutch courage?’

Sophie laughed. ‘What do you need Dutch courage for? It is Emmy here who needs it. She is the one committing herself to a lifetime of domestic harmony.’

My heart stopped for a moment before kick-starting again. I’m willing. But I don’t know if Alain is. I glanced at the bedside clock and told myself he would have phoned by now, if he had any doubts.

Kate sent me a sympathetic look – whether at the idea of trying to include my mother after all that had passed between us or the doubt about my impending marital harmony, I wasn’t sure. What I was sure about was that I needed a break from all this bonhomie.

Kate knew it. ‘Will bubbly make you less grumpy?’ she asked Ellie.

Ellie thought about it. ‘Possibly.’

‘Rupert put some in the fridge for us. Emmy and I can go and get it.’

‘If we open champagne, won’t Emmy’s mother expect to join us?’ Sophie asked.

Ellie thought about that, too. ‘I can live with that.’

Playing her part, Kate laughed. ‘You want to squeeze her mum in here, too? Heaven help us!’ She tightened her robe. ‘Emmy and I will fetch the bubbly. Then we’ll rouse the wedding beast that is her mother.’

She led me around the side of the house. ‘This is a stupid system, having to come outside in our dressing gowns.’

‘Either that, or we walk in on Rupert in his boxers or something equally disturbing.’

‘Have you phoned Alain this morning?’

‘I thought about it. All morning. But there was always a reason not to.’

‘You mean you bottled out.’

‘Yes. But they were good reasons. Besides, how would it look to him, if he intends to come and I phone because I’m doubting him?’ I stopped her at the door, not wanting to be overheard. ‘Surely he would phone me if he didn’t plan to go through with it?’

‘Emmy, Alain’s not the kind of man to leave you standing at the equivalent of the altar, is he?’

An awful thought struck me. ‘Oh, God, Kate. You’re right – he isn’t that kind of man. And because he isn’t, he would go through with it. He’d feel obliged. What kind of start is that to married life?’

Kate tutted in annoyance. ‘I told you yesterday that I’ve never seen a man so in love. You can’t tell me that what happened last night has altered the way Alain feels about you or about marrying you. All this speculation is only making you poorly. Look, I have my phone in my pocket. I’ll take the bubbly back and tell Sophie and Ellie that you got caught up with your mother. You find a quiet corner of the garden and phone Alain. Put your mind at rest.’

Sabine came out of her gîte, making for Adrien’s, and Kate hustled me into the kitchen. I was about to open the fridge when we heard a loud banging noise.

Kate got to the window first. ‘It’s Sabine on the warpath after Adrien. Lord knows, we could do without any further unpleasantness from them.’

I joined her at the window. Sabine was at Adrien’s door, speaking urgently to him and waving at her own gîte. Voices were raised, although it sounded more like panic than anger.

As we watched, they both rapped on Mireille and Christopher’s door. Mireille opened it, listened a moment, looked behind her into the gîte, and her hand flew to her mouth.

The feeling in my gut was not to be ignored. ‘I need to see what’s going on,’ I said to Kate, and before she could answer, I shot across the courtyard in my robe.

‘Is something the matter?’ I asked as I got there.

Mireille had disappeared into her gîte, and she and Christopher were calling to each other, one upstairs, one down.

Sabine turned to me, her face pale. ‘It’s Gabriel. I can’t find him. He is not in the gîte. Or in Adrien’s.’

Mireille reappeared at her door. ‘He isn’t in here, either.’

I looked from one to the other. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘He and Chloe were watching a DVD,’ Sabine explained, her hands flapping in agitation as she talked. ‘I thought it would keep them quiet and calm before the wedding. I went upstairs to get their things ready. Their ordinary clothes – and the wedding outfits, in case they changed their minds. When I came back down, only Chloe was there. She said that Gabriel had told her he was going for a nap. So I went upstairs, but his door was closed. I would have checked on him, but he’d looked so tired this morning, and the door creaks. I didn’t want to wake him.’ Her voice caught on a sob. ‘I left him to sleep. When it was time to wake him up, I went in, but he wasn’t there. He isn’t anywhere.’

‘Where’s Chloe now?’ Christopher asked her.

‘In the lounge.’

He turned to his wife. ‘Mireille, you should go to her. Keep her occupied while we look for Gabriel.’

Mireille nodded and dashed off.

Sabine was shaking, and Adrien put a tentative arm around her shoulders. ‘We’ll find him, Sabine. He must be somewhere.’

Christopher and I exchanged looks. He might as well have said, ‘He could be anywhere.’ Suddenly, a five-year-old boy seemed very small and La Cour des Roses unbearably large.

‘You two start on the grounds,’ I said to Adrien and Christopher as calmly as I could, although the rate of my heartbeat was anything but. ‘I’ll do the guesthouse.’

I ran back to the house, colliding with Rupert in the doorway.

‘Heading over to Alain’s now,’ he said jovially. ‘Moral support from the best man and all that.’ He took in my expression. ‘What’s up?’

‘Gabriel’s missing.’

Kate had already fetched Sophie and Ellie, so I only had to explain Sabine’s story once.

‘Well, he’s not in my rooms unless he climbed into a cupboard while I wasn’t looking, but I’ll double-check.’ Rupert hurried back to his quarters.

‘He can’t be in your room, Emmy. We’ve been in there all along,’ Sophie said.

‘I’ll go upstairs. You three help Adrien and Christopher in the gardens.’

Ellie glanced at Sophie and Kate, all in their robes. ‘Two ticks to throw some clothes on, Emmy. We can’t scramble through bushes in these.’

Ignoring my own state of undress, I ran upstairs, knocking on my parents’ door first. My mother opened it, already dressed for the wedding in a pale mint trouser suit, her auburn hair piled loosely on top of her head.

‘I was about to ask if you and the girls need help getting into your dresses,’ she said, her tone suggesting she wasn’t sure how welcome she would be, but then she took in my panic. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Gabriel’s missing. He’s not in any of the gîtes. He couldn’t be in your room, could he?’

We both knew the question was ridiculous but had to be asked.

‘No. Your dad and I have been in here for ages. But I’ll check with everyone else. What about the cupboards? The lounge? The hall?’

‘I’m on it.’ I threw open the doors of the huge wooden armoire on the landing where we kept bedlinen and towels, ruffling hopelessly through them, but no small child came to light.

With the sound of my parents banging on the other doors ringing in my ears, I hurried downstairs to check the broom cupboard in the hall, the wooden bench chest, and then into the guest lounge to look behind all the chairs. If that child thought he was playing a fun game of hide-and-seek on my wedding day, he was in serious trouble.

But I instinctively knew that wasn’t the case. And then I refused to listen to my instinct any further, for fear it might come up with something I didn’t want to think about.

‘I already checked in here,’ Rupert said from the doorway, his breathing rapid. ‘No sign of him anywhere. What about upstairs?’

‘Mum and Dad are on it.’

‘Go and get dressed, Emmy. Two minutes won’t make any difference, and then you can help outside.’ He pulled out his mobile. ‘I’ll phone Alain.’

‘Thanks.’

Back in my room, I threw on a tee and shorts, then shot outside. People were fanning out across the gardens and orchard, hunting through trees and bushes. All those quiet corners and hidey places that our guests loved so much.

At that moment, I hated the size and variety of the grounds at La Cour des Roses.

We gathered in the courtyard, a bundle of nerves. It was forty-five minutes since Gabriel had been found to be missing, but because of his nap ploy, we had no way of knowing how long he’d really been gone. The sense of panic was palpable.

Everyone on the premises had joined in the hunt. We’d searched every corner of the guesthouse. Every corner of the gîtes. The shed. The generator outhouse. Every nook and cranny of the gardens and orchard. At least three times.

Alain had arrived in his car, panicked and out of breath, within ten minutes of Rupert’s call. We’d shared a quick, troubled look that I couldn’t interpret beyond knowing there were things to be said, but now was not the time.

Sophie had phoned Ryan, and he’d rushed over, too. He and Alain had paired up to search the thick hedgerows and trees surrounding La Cour des Roses from the outside of the premises.

Mireille was still in Sabine’s gîte with Chloe, watching TV and pretending everything was okay, the door firmly closed. It occurred to me how hard that must be for her, to shut herself away from what was going on and pretend that everything was normal, when she must be worried sick.

Mum looked around at everyone as they tried to make conjectures and formulate plans, and in her best seasoned committee chairwoman voice – often irritating but now much needed – she brought us to order.

‘I know none of us have dared imagine that Gabriel might have ventured along the lanes,’ she said loudly, waiting as everyone hushed, ‘but we need to consider that now. He can’t have got far on foot.’ She turned to Alain’s father. ‘Christopher, take your car. Drive a couple of miles in each direction from La Cour des Roses.’

Christopher dragged a shaking hand through his thinning hair. He looked ten years older than he had yesterday.

Mum clicked her fingers at Nick. ‘Nick, you take half. We need to cover ground quickly.’

They went off to their cars, heads together, planning their routes.

Mum turned to me, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘You’re going to miss the mairie.’

‘I know.’

She called Ellie and Sophie over. ‘Ladies, I need to borrow you. My French is rubbish, and I don’t want Emmy to have to do this.’

Ellie glanced at her watch. They knew what was coming.

‘One of you should phone the mairie,’ Mum said. ‘That’s dead in the water now. And one of you needs to phone the château. Get them to stop the guests from leaving for town and explain what’s happening. If Gabriel’s found soon, there’s a chance we could go ahead with the reception, but the guests will have to wait for an update.’

Ellie and Sophie pulled out their mobiles and made for the guesthouse, where they could perform their allotted tasks in quiet.

Mum addressed the rest of the group. ‘If Gabriel has left the grounds, he may not be somewhere as obvious as the roadside. We should divide out the area and go off road on foot – beyond the verges, checking the ditches, and onto any tracks. Rupert, you know the area. You should coordinate. Is that okay with everyone?’

Not a murmur of dissent.

Her next statement blew through the ensuing silence like a cold wind. ‘And it’s time to phone the authorities. That child has been missing for too long.’