Up until that point in her life Sarah had always believed she would only go in a helicopter if she were on a sinking ship. Now she discovered that sinking ships could be metaphorical.
She closed her eyes as the taxi nipped round the back to a playing field where a helicopter, hardly bigger than a dragonfly to Sarah's panic-stricken eyes, whirred impatiently.
‘Keep to the front of the aircraft, out of the way of the rear rotor blade,' Hugo shouted into her ear.
Then he shoved her in the direction of the open door. She put her foot on the rail and scrambled in, her dress riding up horribly as she did so.
‘Shove up,' Hugo commanded and she shuffled over to the second seat. He did up her seatbelt for her and handed her a headset. 'Put these on, then we can talk.’
Sarah put on her headset and, moments later, the helicopter rose into the air. Just for a second Sarah saw the ground get farther away and then she closed her eyes and gripped on to Hugo's hand with both of hers.
‘Are you OK?' he asked her.
‘I'll be fine once we're there,' she said, her eyes clamped shut.
‘Not keen on flying?' asked the pilot.
‘Not really,' Sarah managed. 'But I'll be fine.'
‘We're really lucky Bob hung around for a few moments after he'd dropped off Carrie and Mandy. He's got to pick up some of their guests later,' said Hugo. 'I was able to nab him.'
‘Mm,' said Sarah, knowing she should be enthusing about this stroke of luck but not able to do so at just that moment.
‘Presumably you want to go straight to the hotel where Carrie's getting ready? We'll be there in about twenty minutes,' Hugo went on.
Sarah opened her eyes for a giddy-making second. 'Oh, that is good.' Then she closed them again.
‘Carrie only arrived about half an hour ago. I think Elsa wanted to get cracking on the dress straightaway.'
‘I should think Bron wanted to do her hair and make-up, too. I wonder if it was wrong of me to ask her to get involved?' Sarah was clinging on tight, her life and all her mistakes passing before her eyes behind her eyelids.
‘She's done a brilliant job on the cakes, and helped with the flowers. And she is a hairdresser and make-up artist, isn't she?’
`Mm.'
‘Well then.'
‘And Elsa, those last-minute bridesmaids..
‘Sorted. She dressed them up at the house before taking the dress over to wait for Carrie at the hotel. Even the photographer is quite good.' This raised a faint smile from Sarah. 'So, you don't have to worry about anything except getting Carrie on side again.'
‘That's quite bad enough,' she squeaked.
‘Oh good,' said the pilot, 'it's all still clear for landing. There seem to be a good few paps there, but they know better than to get in the way of the blades.'
‘They'll all think you're a celebrity,' said Hugo.
‘If that's supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't.' Hugo laughed.
Once Sarah had taken off her headset she became aware of how noisy the helicopter would have been without one. She followed Hugo out of the door and he hurried her to the front of the helicopter. 'You go inside, I'll just have a word with Bob. Go and make your peace with Carrie.’
Sarah's last thought before she hurried into the hotel was that she must ask Hugo how much that had all cost.
The fact that she had arrived by helicopter and that the people on reception eventually remembered meeting her before, when she had checked out the hotel, meant she was ushered to Carrie's suite without too much fuss. She knocked on the door and Mandy opened it.
‘Carrie!' Sarah was aware she had mud on her shoes, her fascinator was askew and she must have looked as if she'd been drinking. 'I am so sorry! How can I apologise enough? I was at my sister's wedding and I couldn't get away sooner.’
Carrie turned carefully towards her. She was wearing silk and lace cami-knickers, lace-topped white stockings and suspenders. Her hair was being divided into sections and some of it was in huge rollers. 'Your sister's wedding? Oh, honey! You had told me and I'd completely forgotten! On the same day as mine? What are the chances of that happening?’
Sarah shrugged and raised her palms in philosophical acceptance. 'Obviously better than any of us would have thought. Anyway, I'm so sorry..
Mandy said, 'Here, have a glass of champagne, everything is cool here.' She smiled and Sarah knew that she was forgiven, but that from now on she needed to be fully in control. Nothing was going to mar this wedding, not if she was in charge. She took the glass that she offered and sipped gratefully. It was time to do what she did best.
‘The security guys kept the press under control?' Sarah knew if this had gone wrong, Carrie's wedding day could have been ruined.
‘Oh yes,' said Mandy. 'They knew what they were doing.’
‘And your final dress fitting went well?' This was the second in the list of potential disasters.
‘Yup,' said Carrie. 'Elsa did a great job. She's getting ready in the bathroom.’
Sarah chided herself for doubting Elsa.
Carrie went on, 'We all came over here in two cars-’
‘One for us and one for the dress,' said Mandy.
‘Then I started to get ready,' said Carrie.
Sarah took another gulp of champagne, knowing it really should be water but needing it just at this moment. 'And the horse and carriage are here?'
‘Ready and waiting,' said Mandy. 'We saw it as we came in. We thought Bron had taken the crimpers to the horse's mane, but apparently they always curl like that.'
‘I think someone probably did something to it,' said Bron. 'But it did look beautiful.’
Elsa appeared from the bathroom and she and Sarah hugged. 'You got here!’
Sarah nodded. 'By helicopter. I was terrified, clung on to Hugo all the way.'
‘He's been brilliant,' said Elsa.
‘He's a really great guy,' said Carrie from the dressing table. 'He's taken lots of informal shots already. I'm glad we didn't get anyone else as well. He's so cool.’
Sarah nodded, draining her glass. He was indeed very cool. And very kind, and she was totally in love with him. She hadn't meant to fall in love, it had just crept up on her and despite her determination never to let her guard down ever again, she had. But it was no good; she could love him all she liked but he was engaged to someone else, even ifthat someone was wrong for him, and she just had to accept it and move on.
Everything looked perfect, thought Sarah as she walked through the house. She had already gone through the checklist with Fenella. Apart from the florist catastrophe, everything had gone to plan. The band had turned up and were looking extremely smart with a particularly glamorous lead singer. The caterers were so efficient they seemed to glide about on wheels, and no one had thrown a major tantrum. Now she was going to check every detail herself, down to the last service sheet.
She started at the chapel from the outside door end. The flowers were fantastic. No one with any amount of imported blooms could have done better than Sukie had. Sarah looked first at the arrangement by the font. Great swathes of bluey-grey rose foliage offset scarlet hips that backed an extravagant and sweeping arrangement that was like a wild hedgerow, although on closer inspection, Sarah spotted bought flowers in among the wilderness. It was perfect: high summer on a stand. There was another arrangement by the font and another by the altar. The arrangements at the pew ends were mostly trailing ivy, but looked romantic and definitely on purpose. Only someone with Sarah's experience would know that this was a trick to eke out the flowers.
From the chapel, she moved through to the house. The drawing room was still lovely, and the dining room, now filled with tables covered with sparkling glass and silver, was a wonderful setting for the cake and the double row of smaller, fake versions. She inspected the cake at close quarters and saw how perfect each little icing flower was, with its crystal centre. Bron definitely had a new career waiting for her if she wanted one.
The morning room, where people were to drink champagne until the call to dinner, shone. This was also where people not invited to the actual ceremony would gather until it was over. Several young men in elegant black uniforms were polishing glasses, prepared to serve champagne to all the guests as near simultaneously as possible.
Usually Sarah would have briefed them, but this time she'd had to depend on Jess Allsop, the owner of the catering company, a woman she knew well and had worked with often. When Sarah gave the word, these men would spring into action and every guest would have a glass within seconds.
Sarah found Jess, smartly suited and calm, with Fenella. 'We were a bit worried you wouldn't make it,' said Fenella. 'Although we'd have been fine without you, Carrie really wanted you to be here.' Jess and Fenella exchanged friendly glances.
Sarah was pleased to see that everyone was getting on well and working as a team.
‘And Celeb magazine have been looked after?' asked Sarah.
‘There are place names on the pews. They've got two,' said Fenella. 'They took some shots earlier but I think they're going to use Hugo's. Should earn him a bit of pocket money.'
‘Absolutely!' agreed Jess.
Upstairs Fenella and Rupert's room was looking tidy and welcoming. It was where Carrie would be remade-up after the ceremony and before the reception. She would change out of her wedding dress here too and, if she needed a break, she had somewhere to escape to. Someone, Elsa, Sarah suspected, had tidied it before taking Carrie's dress to the hotel.
‘Has anyone seen the groom?' she asked Fenella. 'Rupert has. They're being kept well apart at the hotel. It was so brilliant you got here on time!'
‘I couldn't have done it without the helicopter,' said Sarah and told Fenella the story.
Sarah waited at the door of the chapel, looking down the gentle curve of the hill to where the horse and carriage were coming up. She could see that Elsa's creation looked truly Faerie-Queen-like and the horse and carriage were the perfect vehicle for such an ethereal bride.
The security people had dealt with the paparazzi, presumably having let them get the agreed shots. Sarah didn't have to worry about anything now, except the ceremony and the reception.
Elsa and Bron had slipped into their places. They'd had a rush at the end and had barely had time to get into their own clothes. Elsa, Sarah noted, was wearing her ball gown, appropriate for an evening event. Sarah had meant to change out of the outfit she'd worn for Lily's wedding into something more formal, but it was too hot for confining garments and magic knickers. It had all been a frightful rush, but now she could focus. She knew that Hugo was somewhere about. They'd exchanged glances earlier and he'd given her a warm, encouraging smile. Just knowing he was around made her feel better, more confident.
The long-haired pony seemed to take for ever to come up the hill but Sarah realised it only seemed like that because she'd been rushing about so much. She could see Hugo now, taking photographs, naturally. She owed him a huge debt of gratitude. How could she repay him? Nothing she could think of doing seemed like half enough.
She looked back into the chapel and saw Carrie's handsome groom. He was chatting and laughing to his best man, far more confident than Dirk had looked. Sarah realised she recognised the best man and tried to remember what film or television programme she'd seen him in. It was a way of occupying her mind as the little horse clip- clopped its way up.
All the guests were pretty glamorous too. It was a small wedding, considering, but the spend per outfit would almost have covered the entire cost of Lily's budget affair.
She turned her mind back to that very different wedding. What were they getting up to now? Dancing, she hoped, to the CD the bride and groom had made together, marking the progression of their romance with the songs. She was so pleased that she'd been able to help her sister have her perfect day. Carrie was having a band later, for the dancing that was going to take place in the drawing room. Sarah had talked her out of having a string quartet playing during the meal as they would take up valuable space.
At last Carrie arrived. She was handed out of the carriage by her father, who was giving her away in the proper traditional manner Carrie had wanted. Her little bridesmaids were all ready. When Sarah heard Purcell's 'Trumpet Tune' for the second time that day she knew the end was in sight. In eight hours or so she could fall into bed.