A Winter's Wedding (24 page)

Authors: Sharon Owens

BOOK: A Winter's Wedding

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27. A Winter’s Wedding

One year later …

All year long Emily had been praying for snow on her big day. She was probably the only adult in the entire city who was yearning for the long, icy fingers of winter to come creeping across the rooftops once more. And Emily’s prayers did not go unanswered, for on the morning of the wedding the air was filled with countless millions of floating, falling, tumbling, silent flakes of white.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she cried happily, looking out of the window of their flat on Parliament Hill.

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ Sylvia laughed, handing her a mug of hot chocolate and a glass of pink champagne. ‘We won’t be able to feel our feet come lunchtime. I don’t know which one to give you – hot choccy or champers? So you might as well have both.’

‘Can I have pink champers?’ Molly asked, resplendent in her flowery frock and polka-dot wellies. ‘Just a little glass? I am a bridesmaid, after all.’

‘No, you certainly can’t,’ Sylvia said, rolling her eyes. ‘And don’t forget to take your pumps with you for when we get to the party.’

‘I have them all ready,’ Molly said crossly, holding up a pale pink dolly bag, ‘and my tissues and the box of confetti. I’m not stupid, Mummy.’

‘No, you’re not stupid at all; you’re the most gorgeous bridesmaid that ever was,’ Sylvia laughed again.

She scooped the child up into her arms and waltzed round the room with her.

‘I’ll go and get dressed now,’ Emily said. ‘Thanks for doing my make-up, Sylvia. Do you know, my heart’s suddenly gone all fluttery?’

‘That’s to be expected,’ Sylvia told her gently. ‘It’ll be fine when we get there. And the beauty of a civil service is … it only takes ten minutes.’

‘Oh yes, I forgot about that. Thanks, Sylvia; that helps me a lot, actually.’

Emily went into the bedroom to put on her dress. The soft layers of palest pink tulle moved a little bit in her slipstream as she approached. The glittery bodice sparkled like a handful of diamonds. She wondered what Dylan was doing, and thinking, at that exact moment. He was getting ready in Jake’s house, as were her parents. Arabella and Jane had not replied to their wedding invitations, and Emily was rather relieved they hadn’t. She’d sent them out on a whim, but there’d been no RSVP in the post. Petra had also been invited but as it was her sister’s wedding on the same day she couldn’t make it. Now she was glad she had made the gesture, and glad it had not been reciprocated. The only guests at the wedding today would be Emily’s parents, Jake and his Australian girlfriend, and Dylan’s immediate family. Strange to think that Jake’s girl would be there, a person she had never met before. Yet Arabella and Jane would not, and she had worked closely with them both for ten years.

‘Ah well, that’s life,’ she said.

Emily sat down at her small, antique dressing table and took the large roller out of her fringe. She combed her long brown hair into a smooth ponytail, then clipped the silk rose on to it. A spritz of perfume on both wrists, and she was ready. She looked at her reflection in the mirror; Sylvia had given her grey, glittery eyeshadow and palest pink lip colour. This was a good thing, Sylvia said, because she wouldn’t be worrying all day about smudging red lippy.

This time tomorrow she and Dylan would be on their honeymoon, bare feet toasting on hot sand.

‘I can’t believe I’m getting married,’ Emily told herself as she slipped out of her dressing gown.

The wedding dress fitted her beautifully. She could hardly feel it against her skin. It felt like cobwebs, or a whisper, against her body. The kitten heels were perfect with it. She was like a princess in one of Molly’s picture books.

‘What do you think?’ she asked, coming back into the sitting room.

‘Oh, Emily, you’re a vision,’ Sylvia said, patting down her own gown – a more grown-up version of Molly’s.

She was standing by the window, looking down at the street.

‘I see the car has arrived. Shall we go?’

‘Might as well,’ Emily said nervously.

‘Don’t forget the bouquets,’ Molly said.

‘Oh wow, I nearly did,’ Emily gasped.

‘Here you are,’ Molly said importantly, handing over the bride’s bouquet – a small, neat posy of fresh white roses. ‘And here is yours, Mummy. And this one is mine.’

‘You’re the best,’ Emily said, kissing her on the head.

The three of them went gingerly down the stairs in their wedding finery, and climbed into the vintage car that Dylan’s parents had insisted on paying for. It was only a small wedding, and only a short distance to the ceremony, but they wanted Emily to feel special.

And she did.

At the registry office, Dylan was pacing up and down the foyer in a black suit and pink tie. There was a pink rosebud in his buttonhole.

‘Relax, mate,’ Jake told him.

‘She’s two minutes late,’ Dylan said, checking his watch.

‘It’s snowing, mate. They might be clearing the windscreen of the car.’

‘What if she’s not coming?’ Dylan said.

‘Mate, she’s coming.’

‘Will you please stop saying
mate
?’ Dylan asked him.

‘Sorry, mate.’

‘Jake!’

‘Sorry, that’s the thing about having an Aussie girlfriend.’

‘She’s here!’ Dylan said happily as the silver and black classic Bentley drew up.

Jake and his girlfriend Priscilla shook their heads as Dylan ran down the steps to greet his bride.

‘Did he really think Emily would do a runner?’ Priscilla asked.

‘I can’t think of anyone less likely to do a runner,’ Jake said. ‘They’re crazy about each other.’

‘Ah, the little one is so cute,’ Priscilla said. ‘We’ll have to ask her to be our bridesmaid when the time comes.’

‘Are you proposing to me?’ Jake said nervously.

‘Relax, mate,’ she laughed. ‘I’m only joking. I think I can do better!’

Jake laughed too, but then he became rather thoughtful. Maybe it was time he settled down? He put his arm around Priscilla and kissed her on the cheek.

Emily and Dylan came into the foyer again, brushing snow out of their hair.

‘Emily, you look lovely,’ Mr Reilly said, coming up the corridor.

He’d been calming himself down with a swift cup of tea in the café. He was wearing a neat black suit, and both his shoes and his hair were gleaming. Emily was delighted that Dylan had managed to coax her father into a stylish outfit for the first time in his life.

‘Hello, Dad. You look fantastic! Where’s Mum?’ Emily said excitedly.

‘She’s coming, love,’ her father said quickly. ‘She just had to nip over the road to get something.

Emily’s face darkened.

‘Has she gone shopping?’ she asked.

‘No, she has not gone shopping. I told you, she saw something – one thing – in a shop on the way here, and she just wanted to go back and get it.’

‘We don’t want to be too late,’ Dylan added.

‘Here I am,’ Mrs Reilly said, coming up the steps of the registry office.

She was wearing an immaculate grey suit and matching hat. She was carrying a small leather handbag … and a big, plastic, silver horseshoe on a ribbon. She held the horseshoe out to Emily. Everyone else held their breath. All of Dylan’s family had heard about Mrs Reilly and her impulsive purchases. Even little Molly could see that the old-fashioned silver horseshoe would spoil Emily’s minimalist outfit entirely.

‘For good luck,’ Mrs Reilly said quietly. ‘I know that you don’t like clutter, but you can’t get married without a silver horseshoe for luck.’

‘Thank you, Mum,’ Emily said. Her eyes were full of tears. ‘I’ll keep this horseshoe for ever.’

‘Don’t cry, Emily,’ Molly warned. ‘You’ll ruin your make-up.’

She handed Emily a tissue from her dolly bag and gave Mrs Reilly a stern look. Molly knew that Emily’s mum and dad currently worked as house-sitters in Mayfair, and she half wished they’d stayed at home today. Imagine spoiling Emily’s perfect dress with that tacky old thing!

‘No, it’s fine. I’m only crying because I’m so happy,’ Emily said.

She took the silver horseshoe and looped it over her wrist. Then she hugged both her parents – and everyone else as well.

‘Come on,’ she said then, shooing them all into the wedding hall. ‘Let’s get this show on the road!’

‘Just a minute,’ Mrs Reilly said. ‘I’ve got something else for you. A certain someone who arrived here an hour ago …’

‘Mum, we really must get on,’ Emily told her. ‘We’re a bit late already.’

‘This won’t take long,’ Mrs Reilly said. ‘Okay, you can come out now!’ she called.

A door at the back of the foyer opened and Arabella appeared, looking very sheepish. She was wearing an oyster-coloured jacket and skirt, and an enormous hat with a swirl of oyster-coloured feathers on it. In one hand she was clutching a small, rhinestone-covered clutch bag, and in the other hand she had a pretty pink basket filled with prettily wrapped gifts.

‘Congratulations, Emily and Dylan,’ she said quietly. ‘I hope you have a brilliant day today, and I’d be honoured if you’d let me come to your wedding. Please.’

Emily could tell she’d been rehearsing that line for quite some time.

‘Get over here, you idiot!’ she said.

Arabella rushed across the foyer, and she gathered Emily into her arms. Her large hat almost fell off in the process.

‘I’m so sorry for gate-crashing, but I couldn’t resist! And I’m so sorry for all those awful things I said; I didn’t mean any of them … Petra persuaded me to come. Everyone at the office sends their love. And these gifts,’ Arabella said. ‘And, of course, we’d all love you to come back to work. It hasn’t been the same without you.’

‘Oh, Arabella! I’d love to come back! Thanks so much!’

‘I’ll make you deputy editor, naturally. That de-cluttering brochure of yours was the nicest thing we ever produced. And finally, Jane says hello,’ Arabella continued in a breathless voice. ‘She’d love to have been here today, but sadly she left London yesterday for a new life in LA.’

‘You mean she’s not with the magazine any more?’

‘No, she doesn’t need us now she’s finally landed herself a ticket to the Big Time,’ Arabella said meaningfully. ‘She and Doug have set the date. Please say you’ll come back to work right after the honeymoon, Emily? We desperately need your vision. I don’t want to run after celebrities any more; they’re only using our little magazine for self-promotion. You were quite right about that. I want to get back to basics now, to the way it used to be. I want to focus on people who love their homes, no matter how humble or tiny they are.’

‘Um, we are supposed to be getting married today,’ Dylan said, tapping his watch and smiling at Arabella.

He could tell Emily later on that evening that Enid had been in touch with him – to tell him that her old house was back on the market, if they were still interested. He hadn’t been going to tell Emily that the house of her dreams was once again available, now fully modernized inside! But if she was going to be working at the magazine again, they just might be able to afford it.

He would also tell Emily later that he’d managed to buy the old wardrobe from her Twickenham flat as a wedding present for her. They’d both felt very emotional about leaving it behind when they’d moved to Parliament Hill. It had taken ten of his old mates to get it down the stairs and into a van the night before; by the time they got back from honeymoon it would be safely installed in their current home.

The lads and their girlfriends would all be joining them later, at the wedding party in an Italian restaurant nearby.

‘I’m so sorry for holding you up!’ Arabella said.

‘Not to worry; there’ll be plenty of time for a catch-up at the party,’ Mrs Reilly said happily. ‘Have you heard that Pat and myself are living in London now too?’

‘Is that right? How wonderful! Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Emily,’ Arabella said, dissolving into tears.

Mr Reilly took the basket of gifts from Arabella, so she could hug Emily again.

‘Come on,’ he told both women. ‘All’s well that ends well. Now, if only we could get on with the ceremony … We don’t want the registrar to think it’s all been cancelled and go off home, do we? Plus, I’m about to drop with hunger here. And this jacket is cutting the neck off me, it’s that stiff.’

‘And I want to be a bridesmaid
right now
,’ Molly said, tugging gently at Emily’s dress. ‘I’ve got itchy feet from all the waiting.’

‘Would you look at the time?’ Mrs Reilly said. ‘Emily, love, are you ready to get married?’

‘Yes,’ Emily said. ‘I’m ready.’

She looped her arm through Dylan’s, then took a deep breath as she turned towards the marble stairs.

‘Come on, Molly. Come on, everyone,’ she said. ‘Now that we’re all here, together at last, let’s make this the best day ever!’

Acknowledgements

I’d like to say a massive thank you to everyone at Penguin, especially Mari Evans, Clare Ledingham, Lydia Newhouse, Samantha Mackintosh and Shân Morley Jones; thank you for being such an absolute joy to work with. Thanks also for six beautiful book covers, and for the stunning bouquets that duly arrive on my doorstep each launch day.

Thanks to everyone at the Curtis Brown Agency, especially Shaheeda Sabir; thank you so much for all your patience and kindness.

Thanks to Dermot, the love of my life, who believed in me from the moment we first met in a swirl of dry ice, in a very glamorous disco, in 1984. Thanks to our wonderful daughter, Alice, just for being herself, and for designing my new website.

Thanks to all the readers who have supported me, sent me lovely messages and helped to spread the word! I hope you enjoy this story.

With warmest wishes,
Sharon

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