Bron was in her little garden, working on what she hoped was her last fake-cake, thinking that at least she was very quick at creating flowers in icing so when she came to do the real cake, in a couple of days' time, she should be an expert at it. She needed to be as Carrie's wedding was mere days away now.
‘Hi,' said a female voice. 'Am I disturbing you? I've come over to see how you're getting on, and to make a hair appointment, if I may.’
She looked up to see Vanessa.
‘My goodness!' Vanessa went on, gesturing towards what Bron was doing. 'Look at that! It's fantastic!’
Bron was pleased. 'It's the last. I'm hoping I won't need to do any more. Do you like them?'
‘They're beautiful! Could I commission you to do one for me?'
‘Of course. You might be able to have one of these when the wedding's over. I don't know what Carrie will want to do with them.'
‘To be honest, I'd rather have one without crystals,' said Vanessa.
‘Mm, I know what you mean, but I think as Carrie's dress is covered in them, the crystals are necessary. Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything?' asked Bron.
‘Yes, but I'll make it. What would you like?'
‘I've only got instant, I'm afraid,' said Bron, suddenly a little daunted by the thought of her landlady making her own coffee.
‘That's fine. Too much of the other stuff gives me the jitters.’
Bron laughed and started another flower. Now she was doing the top of the sphere, she had to stand on a box to work. She wondered why, if she wanted her hair doing, Vanessa hadn't just rung up to make an appointment. Did she have another reason for calling or was she just being friendly? When Vanessa came out a few minutes later with two steaming mugs and settled herself on the bench beside Bron, Bron soon realised that she definitely had something else to talk about. Once they'd fixed a time for Bron to do Vanessa's hair the following week and Vanessa had grilled her on Carrie's wedding preparations and said she couldn't wait for the next issue of Celeb to come out – she made it her business to keep up with all the gossip -she turned to Bron and said firmly, 'Now tell me, how are you and James getting on?’
Bron swallowed a big gulp of coffee. 'Well, we don't see much of each other, we're both very busy-'
‘I wondered,' Vanessa interrupted her. 'I noticed him helping you with your cakes.' She gave Bron a piercing glance. Had her landlady been spying on her? Knowing Vanessa, she wouldn't put it past her.
‘I think he's very attractive – not that I go for younger men – but he is good-looking, I've always thought,' Vanessa went on.
‘Yes, he is, very good-looking.' Bron was wary.
‘But you don't fancy him? No chemistry? I mean, it either works for you or it doesn't.’
Bron couldn't quite believe her landlady's audacity, then she laughed.
‘Oh, am I being too blunt? If you don't fancy him-''It's not that.' Bron blushed.
‘Ah, so you do like him?' Vanessa was obviously determined to find out. 'I was only saying to Donald the other night what a good pair you'd make. He told me not to interfere of course, but… Anyway, if you do fancy him, then what's the problem?’
Bron wondered if she should match Vanessa's frankness. Probably Vanessa would only prise it out of her eventually; she was like a terrier with a bone. Vanessa gave her an encouraging smile. Bron looked down at her coffee. Perhaps it would help if she confided in someone like Vanessa, it was sort of like confiding in her mother. 'I don't think he fancies me. I thought I'd given him enough hints. I've invited him to meals, given him cake, got him to come round to Elsa's with these' – she indicated the fake-cakes -'so he could see how nice my friends are, but nothing.' She sighed. 'If he fancied me, he'd have made a move by now, surely. We do get on well, but I think he just sees me as a friend.'
‘Nonsense! Of course he fancies you. Lovely girl like you, right next door. He is a man, after all.'
‘But as you said, if there's no chemistry..
Vanessa sipped her coffee and then shook her head. 'I'm sure it's not that.' She thought for a moment and then patted Bron's hand. 'It's possible he thinks it's too soon for you after…?' She paused.
‘Roger.'
‘Right. Well, no man wants to be a rebound. Too much pride. And although I don't know all the details, I got the impression he'd come out of a relationship that ended badly for him when he first came here, a couple of years ago. He probably didn't want you to rebound on him and break his heart all over again.'
‘Do you really think so?' Bron said quietly, realising there might be some truth in Vanessa's words. It was very soon after Roger and he might well think she was a complete slapper for even thinking about someone else so soon. He was probably trying to let her down gently. How embarrassing.
Vanessa warmed to her theme. 'I do. He's quite sensitive, you know.' She paused. 'So what are we going to do about it?'
‘About what?' Bron was puzzled.
Vanessa made a gesture that indicated Bron had missed something very simple. 'You must be proactive, darling! You must do something to make it happen. Good God! If women waited for men to get things going, the population would have died out millennia ago!'
‘Oh. Do you think so?'
‘It's a fact. Now, what are we going to do about that silly man not taking advantage of what's under his nose?’
Bron shrugged. 'He's being incredibly helpful. He made all the bases for these.' She indicated her tree. 'And he's made the framework for the real cake.'
‘You don't need a helpmate – although a man who's practical is a bonus…' Vanessa said, going off on another tangent. 'Mm, let me see… I know – you need to get him to the wedding. Why don't you ask him to drive you over? After all, you'll need help with those trees. You wouldn't get more than a couple in your little car.'
‘But he'd have to take time off work.' Bron began to feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe Vanessa was right, and he just needed a little more prodding.
‘That's easy. I can help you there. He's got loads of holiday owing him. Tell you what, I'll suggest he takes you. He can say no if he really doesn't want to, but I think he just needs a bit of a push. How long are you staying over at the house where the wedding is?'
‘A couple of days. I don't really think I can transport the cake iced and it's going to take a while to do.' She took another sip of coffee. 'Although I am very good at these flowers now, it will be a bit different on the actual cake. And then when the cake's done, I have to do Carrie's hair and make-up. There are bridesmaids too, although they're little ones, so I won't need to do too much with them.'
‘Two or three days together should do the trick.' Vanessa was in her own little matchmaking world once more. 'He may feel it's not fair to jump on you when you're living next door in case you didn't appreciate it. It would be awkward if you didn't, after all.’
Bron sighed. 'I don't see what else-’
Vanessa patted her hand again in a mothering way. 'You'll think of something when you're thrown together in difficult circumstances, but you've got to remember that men can be very slow.' She stood up and brushed her skirt down. 'Leave it to me, darling. I love matchmaking!’
James did take Bron to Somerby. She didn't know exactly what Vanessa had said to him, but he'd agreed he could take the time off and that helping Bron was a good thing to do. He'd gone to park the car and Rupert was going to tell him where to put the fake-cakes and the pack of dogs had followed them. Sarah was giving Bron a tour.
‘They've done so much to it!' Sarah was saying. 'I keep forgetting you didn't see it before, but it was quite empty and barren-looking, but now, it's amazing!’
As they wandered around, Bron made suitably impressed noises. It was amazing. A real country estate, like in a novel. Imagine anyone actually living here. As Sarah rattled on about this cornice and that, Bron sensed she was quite tense. It was a big job, finally pulling every- thing together, especially when you had your sister's wedding to attend to too.
‘You look tired, Sarah, are you OK?' asked Bron.
‘Oh yes, just pre-wedding nerves.' She laughed, in rather a forced way Bron felt. 'All wedding planners get them, worse than the bride.'
‘Is everyone here? Hugo?' She was dying to ask if anything had happened between Sarah and Hugo the other night.
‘Yes, he's here, already snapping away.'
‘I hope he didn't take advantage of you after Lily's hen night,' Bron teased. 'Elsa and I were a little worried, leaving you alone with him, but he was most insistent.’
Sarah groaned. 'Don't talk to me about that night. The evils of drink.'
‘But he looked after you OK?' Bron persisted.
‘Yes, of course. He put me to bed, left a big glass of water and a bowl and went home.’
Bron detected a note of disappointment in Sarah's voice. 'Is that all?' she asked.
‘Well, it was all rather embarrassing. I told him I liked him.'
‘And?'
‘It's no good, he can't like me..
‘I'm sure he does, Sarah. He was awfully concerned for you. When we rang him, he didn't hesitate, he just got in the car.'
‘He's kind and I think he is fond of me but…' She hesitated. 'He's engaged to a friend of Fen and Rupert.’
‘What?' asked Bron in surprise. 'Are you sure? I thought he was single. He's certainly never mentioned her.’
Sarah nodded. 'I know, but he is, believe me.' She sighed.
‘Don't say anything. I don't want him to know I even care.' Bron frowned, but before she could reply Sarah continued. 'I mean, I don't, not really. Anyway, it's all too complicated and I've got far too much to do to be worrying about such things. Come on, here are your sleeping quarters.’
Sympathy for her friend made Bron drop the subject, but as she followed Sarah to a converted pigsty or whatever it was, she wished there was time to talk about it properly. She sensed Sarah wanted to tell her more. Was Hugo really engaged? If so, would he really have dropped everything like that when he'd heard she needed help? And shown such obvious concern for her? Bron might have been a little drunk herself that night but she could have sworn Hugo looked at Sarah with much more than just fondness.
Perhaps there would be a moment in the next two days when she would tell Bron everything. Bron was a good listener and she'd be there for her friend whenever she needed her.
‘They're going to rent these converted buildings out, but you're the first in here,' Sarah said as she opened the door. 'Gorgeous, isn't it?'
‘It is! I love the whitewashed walls and the rag rug. It's like a little place in Greece or somewhere.'
‘But as it's England, there's a wood-burning stove. Not that you'll need it now. I can't believe this weather! As long as it lasts until Sunday, it can rain all it likes after that.'
‘James says we need rain. He was worrying about his greenhouses. Vanessa has promised she'll water everything while he's away but I'm not sure he trusts her.'
‘Will he be all right in the caravan? I didn't want to put him in here, with you. I told Fen things weren't at that stage yet.’
Bron made a face. 'He'd better make a move soon or Vanessa will sack him.' She chuckled. 'Or I'd better make a move soon or she'll sack me!'
‘Is she that bad? Anyway, you don't work for her, do you?'
‘No, it's just that she was very firm about it the other day. And she made him bring me, with all my trees. She's wonderfully bossy sometimes.' She explained to Sarah about Vanessa's little pep talk.
‘Mm, I remember her as a bride's mother. Blunt isn't the word for her.' Sarah smiled. 'Right, I'd better get on. Come up to the house when you're ready and I'll show you where you can start putting your cake together.’
Sarah walked back up to the house, mentally ticking off various items on her to-do list. She must find her clipboard and start ticking things off for real. She was glad Bron had arrived safely, with the cake in tow. It seemed a lifetime ago that she had arrived herself, eager to be shown around, to see how much of a transformation had gone on.
The dogs had milled about her ankles as Rupert kissed her.
‘So, did you get everything done?' she asked Fenella laughed. 'You'll have to see for yourself, but I think we've done a pretty good job. There are the occasional grot areas, but I'm sure we can hide them. We've worked pretty much non-stop at it.'
‘Oh, well done! Please, show me everything.'
‘Does that mean that you don't want coffee first?' asked Rupert, ever the host.
‘If you'd be a love and make it, we'll come and get it soon,' said Fenella.
‘The path up to the chapel looks amazing!' Sarah was very impressed. 'And it's wonderful being able to offer the whole package. People could have always got married first and then had their own ceremony here, but this is just perfect.'
‘The local vicar has been so helpful,' said Fenella. 'And his roof fund is doing quite well too!’
Sarah laughed.
‘Carrie and Rick had to visit the vicar at least twice,' Fenella went on.
‘Oh, it's Rick now, is it?' said Sarah, teasingly. 'You'll be on first-name terms with all the stars soon.'
‘I really hope so!' said Fenella. 'But thank goodness they stayed in a hotel. If she'd seen the state of this place she'd have thought it would never be ready in time. The security's going to be mega.'
‘Yes, and you're lucky this time, once Somerby gets on the venue map, which it will after it's starred in Celeb magazine, you'll be papped all the time.’
Fenella looked horrified. 'You are joking?'
‘Well, only a bit.'
‘You mean you're only a bit joking? Or that I'll only be papped a bit?'
‘Both! But as I told Carrie that day, the situation does make it easy for it to be kept under control.'
‘Oh, Lordy! Well, come and see the drawing room.’
It was beautiful. The blend of gorgeous parrot-strewn wallpaper and mural was complete, with trompe-l'oeil plants creeping over the cornices on to the ceiling. The walls had perspective, giving the impression that a garden of Eden extended into the hills. Sun and light, both real and fabricated, filled the room with gold.
Real palm trees stood in pots in the corner, adding to the exotic atmosphere. Garlands of flowers linked painted pillars and actual ones so realistically that Sarah almost expected an antelope to come out of the mural and put its nose into a vase of leaves that covered the fireplace.
‘Oh, Fenella!' exclaimed Sarah, her eyes wide as she took in all the detail. 'It's paradise! It's perfect!'
‘I did the painting myself,' said Fenella proudly. 'It's taken almost all the time since I last saw you. I had to help Rupert with the rest of the decorating, too, so I've had some long days.' She yawned and then laughed.
‘I'm so impressed. Now, show me the rest,' said Sarah.
‘Ah, well, this is the bit we couldn't get done,' said Fenella, indicating a corridor. 'I thought of hanging a sheet over the entrance, but it might look a bit as if we're still decorating,' she went on. 'We are, of course, but we don't want to advertise the fact.’
Sarah considered. 'Mm, tell you what, why don't we get some pots or jars or something and stick branches – big branches – in them. It'll look as if there's a wood in your house, put up a few fairy lights and people won't go down here. It'll fit in with the real/ fake theme and if you don't put up physical barriers people wander about all over the place, looking for the loo.’
Fenella's face took on a look of panic. 'I think that's a great idea, I really do, but I haven't time to do it. I'll just stick a notice up, "Trespassers Will be Prosecuted".’
Sarah laughed. 'But think how much funnier it would be if there was a wood here! Bron's friend James..
‘The one who's sleeping in the caravan?'
‘Yes. We'll ask him to do it. He's a gardener. Once he's helped Bron with the fake trees he can hack at real ones. Do we know where the cake is going to be yet?'
‘Here.' Fenella opened the door into the dining room.
‘Oh, wow!' said Sarah, thrilled. 'This is fantastic! You've created the most perfect space for the grand entrance!' She could now easily picture the long double row of fake trees, sparkling in the lights, leading to the wedding cake, bigger than the others, at the end of the row. 'You must have completely redecorated – there's nothing shabby about your chic now!'
‘It took us for ever,' said Fenella, tired at the memory of it all. 'We didn't give in and rent a scaffolding tower for two days and I was perched on the top of a ladder, which I really hate, having to go back down again every time my brush needed more paint.'
‘Couldn't you have hung the tin off the ladder or something?'
‘I could have if I'd had a proper paint kettle, but we just had these massive tins of white paint that I put a bit of colour into. Anyway, Rupert, who was rebuilding the pigsties – where Bron will be staying – came in and said it was bloody ridiculous. He went into town and came back with the tower. He'd only hired it so it had to go back but I wanted to keep it. So much better than those horrible ladders. We've still got loads of decorating to do, after all.'
‘You've done a fantastic job, Fen, I don't know how you did it in the time.'
‘By working all the hours God sends,' said Fenella.
‘It's been worth every second, really it has. And now it's done, you've got this amazing venue.’
Fenella nodded. 'It's what kept us going.' She sighed deeply. 'Do you really think we have to bother with the branches in jars thing?'
‘Yes,' said Sarah. 'I'll ask James when they arrive. He'll do it. And Elsa will be here soon too. She might have time to help him.’
Elsa arrived shortly after Bron and James and was shown the bedroom Fenella had allocated for Carrie so she had somewhere to use while she was in the house. She could leave her things there, have her make-up touched up and generally use it as a base. It would also be useful for the bridesmaids.
‘It's our bedroom, actually,' Fenella said wistfully. 'It's the only one currently with an en suite, so I had to give it up. We're a bit short of bedrooms that don't desperately need sorting out.'
‘It's beautiful!' said Elsa. 'And so huge! You could have a ball in here.'
‘Yes, it is a good size.'
‘It's about the same size as my workroom at home,' said Elsa, feeling the need to impress on Fenella just how massive this bedroom was, 'which is the entire floor of an old factory.'
‘Oh, that is quite big, isn't it?’
Elsa nodded. 'I'll go down and get my rail, then I'll start bringing up the dresses. When are the bridesmaids coming?'
‘I've got it written down somewhere. They're not coming all at once, fortunately.'
‘After they've had their fittings and I've done any alterations I can help you. Sarah said she'd been making unreasonable demands and that I must be useful.’
Fenella laughed. 'Sarah's great, isn't she?’
Elsa nodded. 'But she admits she can be quite demanding. She does have very high standards.'
‘Nothing wrong with that. Anyway, will you and Sarah be all right in those little attics?' Fenella went on. 'You have got one each, which is better than having to share, but they are rather tiny. The bathroom works OK if you run the hot tap for ages. Hot water comes through eventually.'
‘They looked sweet; we'll be fine there,' said Elsa. 'I loved the curtains – gorgeous fabric.'
‘Probably genuine antiques,' said Fenella. 'We found them in an old trunk. Well, this isn't going to get the baby bathed. I must find James and get him to hack down some trees. There's a small wood nearby – I'm sure we won't miss it. We can't have Celeb magazine discovering our undecorated passageway!’
Bron was in the kitchen, looking at her real cakes. There were six of them and the top one was already iced. It was a little dome of green-icing flowers with crystal centres. She'd taken so much trouble with it and got it so perfect she hoped she could do the rest of the icing as well. She had several large plastic boxes of icing already made up, enough spare nozzles and icing bags to set up a small shop and was all ready to go, except she was nervous. She'd practised her flowers until she could do them really quickly, but doing something in the safety of Veronica's kitchen, with Veronica on hand for advice, was one thing. Now she had to assemble the layers and actually finish the thing.
Fenella came in. 'How are you getting on? Do you want a hand taking it all upstairs? I'll ask Rupert. I'm still trying to find enough sheets. I know I've got loads, my mother gave me all her old ones, but I can't find them! I've done most of them-' Fenella stopped as she noticed Bron's slightly frazzled look. 'I'll find Rupert. He can help you.’
Bron would have preferred James because he knew what he was doing by now, but he'd been sent into the wood with a pair of loppers, a pruning saw and a ladder. She fully accepted that he was the best man for that particular job, but he was also the best man for transporting her cakes; he was experienced with cakes by now and knew how they should be handled. She wasn't sure she wanted to trust her confectionery to Rupert, who, nice as he was, might drop something vital.
Still, she smiled politely at him when he appeared, wearing paint-spattered jeans and a jumper with the welt hanging off.
‘I gather you need some help?' And he picked up several sections of cake that had been stacked together and disappeared out of the room.
While Bron had some idea where she needed to be, she wasn't exactly sure of the way. Rupert was lovely but she was worried that his busyness might mean he didn't treat her cake with the care and attention it required. She picked up the top she had already iced and followed him, as swiftly as she could with such a delicate burden.
She could hear him talking in a loud voice to someone and she knew he wasn't paying attention. She hurried and found the staircase, currently covered with drugget – a trip hazard if ever she saw one – terrified that any moment she would come across Rupert and a pile of cake crumbs.
Now she was nearer she could hear that Rupert was talking to Hugo. The men were laughing and teasing each other. Just too far away to yell, 'Mind my cake!' she sped along the hallway, which was wide enough for two women to take exercise side by side in hooped skirts. Where was Rupert? She knew he wouldn't have let her get lost on purpose, he was far too kind and gentlemanly, but he had a lot to do and had long legs.
Relief flooded over her as she found the right room. Already someone had placed her fake cakes in two rows leading to the long windows, where the real cake would stand.
‘You thought I was going to drop the cake, didn't you?' said Rupert. 'Go on, admit it.’
Bron sighed deeply. 'Yes I did.'
‘It would have made a wonderful photograph,' said Hugo. 'You wouldn't like to drop it on purpose, would you?’
Bron scowled at him as crossly as she could manage. He laughed.
Elsa was tired of smiling. She loved children and these little girls – daughters of Carrie's far-off cousins – were not naughty. But like anyone else who was five years old, they found it difficult to keep still. They wanted to run around playing fairies, flapping their arms and encouraging each other to louder squeals and more hysterical laughter. They also found the huge bed very tempting.
Their mothers were too busy chatting with each other to do much to rein them in – they were very excited to be involved in a celebrity wedding.
‘Now, Isolde,' said Elsa firmly. 'Can you just let me check if this fits? It won't take long.' She should probably be firmer with them, she realised, but it was too late now.
‘So what's Carrie's dress like?' asked one of the mothers, having realised that Elsa needed help.
‘Fabulous,' said Elsa, her mouth full of pins.
‘Can we have a peek?' asked the other mother.
‘Not a chance,' said Elsa. She took out the last pin. 'You haven't got long to wait and she'd kill me if I let anyone see it before she has. There, that wasn't too bad, was it? Now, Imogen, your turn.’
It was time for Sarah to go. There was nothing much she could do now. She'd said goodbye to Elsa and Bron. She hadn't seen Hugo since this morning. He was probably off somewhere with his camera. For one brief moment she wondered if Electra would turn up to the wedding but then dismissed the thought. She had the guest and staff list and Electra's name wasn't on it – there wasn't even a plus one against Hugo's name. Bron had iced the last but one section and was now icing the entire thing into a ball. Elsa was hand-sewing the bridesmaids' dresses so that they fitted properly. And James had created a very mysterious wood in front of the blocked-off corridor. All was as well as it could be. Later everyone was going to sit in the kitchen and eat cottage pie and drink red wine. Sarah wished she could be with them.
‘The florist will arrive very early tomorrow,' she said to Fenella, who had a clipboard. She felt Fenella would be the perfect custodian of it in her absence. And she did have a copy of her various lists in her handbag. She was running through everything in her mind. 'Let me know if there are any problems. I'll be at the end of my mobile – mostly. Right, the orchestra – I suppose I mean band, don't I? Whatever, they should turn up a couple of hours before they're needed. They like to eat something and then have a bit of a practice.' She frowned suddenly. 'Are they staying here? I can't remember.'
‘B. and b. in the village,' said Fenella. 'I can't fit in another soul. We will be able to soon, but not now. Thank God Carrie and her entourage are staying at the hotel.'
‘I know. The caterers will be early too. I've used them lots of times; they're very reliable.'
‘Right,' said Fenella, writing on her clipboard. 'Horse and carriage?'
‘Carrie's coming from the hotel in a car, she'll be put into the horse and carriage – we've found the perfect spot – and will be driven up the road and then up the drive to the chapel entrance. You don't need to worry about the horse and carriage because they'll just go back when they're finished. They've got a huge great lorry they can put it all on. Anything else you're not sure of?'
‘The press,' said Fenella, seeming worried. 'Do I have to feed them or anything?'
‘Absolutely not. We're only feeding the Celeb lot and they've been given strict instructions. I've warned the local pub that they'll be inundated. That'll have to do. Mandy has arranged some extra security. She'll handle all that.' Sarah put her arms round Fenella and hugged her. 'I do wish I could stay with you all. I'll be back as soon as I can.'
‘Enjoy Lily's wedding. And don't worry about a thing. We'll manage,' Fenella said, with a little more conviction than she felt.
And Sarah finally got into her car, waved and drove away.