by Lucy Dickens
I liked it, it was a good price, and it was interesting, but there was a downside in that the room we would have the use of was very small. We weren’t planning a massive wedding, but in all likelihood people would spill out of this room once the meal was over, and the bar area of the home was open to the public. None of this was a huge problem, but it kept the venue as a ‘maybe’ and not a definite ‘yes’.
‘This feels perfect,’ I shouted over the wind to Matt at venue number three as the eleven of us stood in the middle of an empty field. The wind whipped my hair in front of my eyes, and we were all huddled together and exposed, but the view was outstanding. You could see for miles, even on an overcast day, over hills and forest and woodland. It was wild and exciting, and I could picture us being able to do whatever the hell we fancied because the farmer wanted just a few hundred for use of the field, plus a little extra for two neighbouring fields if we wanted to add camping and parking.
‘Don’t you think this could be perfect?’ I called to Matt again. ‘We could have yurts dotted about, and a marquee, and however many Portaloos you want! Benny, don’t you think this is cool?’
‘It’s definitely cold,’ he replied, but he flashed me a quick grin.
Matt’s parents didn’t look too comfortable, and Daisy was trying to wipe cowpat from her shoe.
‘Do you think you’d rather do everything ourselves rather than a package?’ Matt asked.
Hmm. People don’t phrase things in that way unless they want the opposite to you. ‘Let’s chat about it more tonight, when we’re out of the cold,’ I said.
On to our fourth venue.
The Crumble hotel was in the middle of town, with a private car park and a pretty, photogenic entranceway. Inside the lobby we were met with two sweeping staircases on either side of the reception, sparkling spotlights high above, and pistachio and cream furnishings. Our party all visibly warmed up following the windy field, and spent a few unsubtle minutes shaking off their coats and untangling their hair.
‘Afternoon, all. I’m Cecily, the wedding coordinator. Can I assume you two are Charlotte and Matt?’ she addressed Calvin and Daisy, and Calvin blushed furiously and stepped away from where he’d been hovering, gazing at her.
I spotted Cecily darting a knowing glance at me and smiled, and I stepped forward.
‘That’s actually us, thanks for meeting with us today. We’ve brought a few people along.’
‘Not a problem,’ smiled Cecily. ‘Come on through to the Elizabeth suite and you can see where your wedding and reception could be held. I’ve already laid out some tea and coffee in there, and I’ll bring some extra cups and biscuits through.’
She tap-tap-tapped ahead of us down the corridor while we all followed, Matt and I leading. Behind me I could hear chatter about how nice the place was, how nice Cecily was, ooo tea and coffee, ooo biscuits.
The Elizabeth suite was large but not too large, warm but airy, sparse but with ‘great scope to decorate however you’d like’. Prices were fair, as fair as weddings go, and could be tailored according to requirements, from exclusive use to simple room-only. Cecily was kind, sweet, accommodating, and got more chocolate Hobnobs without even being asked after Evie scoffed the lot. It was the obvious choice.
For everyone else.
For me, I couldn’t help but think about that wild and windy field, with all its potential and the view for miles. I stood on that hill and felt like, on my wedding day, I would be taking the first step into married life. London life. Into a wonderful adventure with Matt.
I don’t think I need to hit you with a spoiler alert, because as you know, we didn’t pick the field. There was a lot of discussion among all of us, and everybody threw in their two-pence worth, and there was overwhelming favour for the Crumble hotel. It ticked all the boxes, it suited young and old and mobile and immobile. It was sensible while still being romantic. At one point we all voted, even Evie, who thought she was voting for more chocolate Hobnobs.
First up was the barn. Only Brienne put her hand up for that one, though we all agreed that if Matt or I found a richer partner second time around we’d revisit.
The stately home, aka ‘murder-mystery house’, got Matt and Benny’s vote.
I was the only one who put my hand high in the air for the field.
And everybody else put their hand up for the Crumble hotel.
Matt and I faced each other, and I said, ‘Well, if you want Murder House and I don’t, and I want Deserted Field and you don’t, I think we have to shove both of them off the list.’
He nodded. ‘Are you okay with that?’
‘Yeah,’ I shrugged. ‘It’s the fair thing to do. I want us both to be happy with where we get married.’
‘Would you be happy doing it here?’
I looked around at the room, at the big windows and soft lighting, and pictured my wedding day playing out. It was a lovely hotel, spacious but still boutique-feeling. I even remembered having a cream tea here with Dad, oh, many years ago. It was a nice memory.
‘You don’t have to pick any of these places if you aren’t sure,’ said Benny, echoing the words I’d said to him two years before when he was struggling to pick a university. ‘You don’t have to decide right now.’
But the decision was made, by all of us, and we handed over the deposit on that very afternoon, agreeing to marry the following April.
Matt and I left the hotel arm in arm, content and excited, and he whispered to me, ‘Now that’s out the way, let’s start planning the honeymoon.’
I smiled but held my finger to my lips. ‘Let’s wait until we’re on our own, because I expect everybody here will want to tell us where we should go. And I have an idea I want to run by you that I’ve been thinking about for a really long time …’
‘Hello, Charlotte!’ smiles Cecily, joining me on the sofa with her ring binder. She looks around. ‘No other family members today? Not even Matt?’
It is true that Matt is usually with me, but the rest of my family haven’t seen Cecily since we booked. Except for when Mara came along to help us negotiate the package. Oh, and when Gray and Mum tagged along to chat about discounted rooms for guests. Ah yes, there was also the time Brienne wanted to take measurements of the Elizabeth suite.
‘I think I know why you’re here and I must apologise,’ Cecily continues before I can speak. ‘I haven’t been able to take as many calls as I would have liked over the past few weeks from your wedding party; it’s just that I do have other weddings occurring this spring. I will be more careful to pick up from now on.’
I’m confused. ‘From my wedding party? You mean from me or Matt?’
She looks uncomfortable. ‘Or from your sister or bridesmaids. Matt’s parents ring me several times, um, a week, just to ask little things to do with the day or their room or whatever. Your mum has been in once or twice.’
I shake my head. I swear everybody in my extended family can’t keep it in their bloody heads that this was my wedding, not all of theirs. Anyway. It’s none of ours any more so I’d better break the news to Cecily.
‘Well, if it’s any consolation, you probably won’t hear from them again for a while. Or ever. At least to do with this wedding.’
Cecily is mystified and then shock crosses her face. ‘Are you going to try and get me fired?’
‘No, no, it’s not that bad, well, not for you. It’s me. And Matt. The wedding is off.’
‘Off?’
‘Cancelled. Kaput. Dead.’
‘Matt’s dead?!’
‘No,’ I’m rubbish at this, apparently. ‘It’s just cancelled, we won’t be getting married now. Or ever.’
Cecily sits back into the sofa and the ring binder slides on to the floor. ‘Well, that’s a big shame.’ She shakes her head and looks genuinely surprised. ‘I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, I’m just taking mountains of cocaine to get me through it all!’ Why would I joke about that? Cecily must think I’m a right headcas
e! ‘Just kidding, ahem, yes, I’m okay, as well as can be expected. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know to, you know, not expect us to be here in two and a half weeks.’
‘Right,’ she says quietly, and mulls for a minute. ‘Charlotte, I’m afraid we aren’t able to return your money so close to the wedding. We won’t be able to give the slot to anyone else. At anything under six weeks a cancellation is non-refundable.’
‘I know,’ I sigh. I did know this, but still, any money we can get back would be amazing. ‘Is there anything we can get back, like the food and drink, or the rooms?’
‘Any guests of yours that no longer want to make use of rooms they’ve booked can cancel up to forty-eight hours in advance with no charge, so that’s something. The five rooms your party had booked along with the package, I can release those and refund you for them, but obviously you did get a discounted rate for them which will be what I can return to you.’ She thinks for a moment more. ‘I’ll check the food and drinks packages because we may be able to return the wine and prosecco to our supplier, and the kitchen can cancel the fresh food, which they won’t have ordered yet. But it won’t be the full amount back because of course the chef has spent time and money on your menu.’
‘Complicated, isn’t it?’ I put my chin in my hands.
‘It is a bit. I am sorry, Charlotte. I hope nothing too serious has happened.’
‘Bleeeeeeuuurgh, just that Matt wanted to “sow some wild oats” before the wedding.’
‘Oh, what a fucking twat!’ she exclaims and then claps a hand over her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry, Charlotte, that was unforgivably unprofessional.’
I laugh. ‘’S’all right. My brother said something similar.’
‘I always thought Gray seemed like a clever man.’ Cecily blushes but I like that I’m seeing this unmasked version. I bet she’s a right laugh to go for a drink with. ‘Anyway, I’ll get back whatever I can for you, Charlotte, I’m just sorry in advance that it won’t be all that much.’
I thank Cecily and leave her to it, and when I step from the hotel I look back up the entrance one last time, just in time to see the door slowly close.
Back at home, I tell Mum everything while I make her a spag bol she didn’t ask for.
‘So that’s venue, flowers and cake all cancelled, which are some of the main things, but I can’t find the info about the cars or suits. I might just ask Matt to take care of those.’
At the mention of his name, Mum raises her eyebrows. ‘Yes, I think you should. No reason you should have to do all of this.’
‘I want to,’ I said, squinting at some fine print on our wedding ring receipts as I stir the sauce. ‘Because if I don’t keep busy, I have to think about how humiliating all of this is.’
My phone bleep-bleeps with another ‘OMG!’ message, and I swipe to clear it and then put my phone on silent. I’ve asked my family and my bridesmaids to help get the word out to all the guests. But though I’m grateful for the sympathy messages and calls that have started coming through, along with a wave of opinions, for the first time in my life I want to be left in peace.
‘How are you doing, Mum?’
‘How am I? I’m all right.’
‘I’m sorry for the money you helped put towards this. And for all that wasted time spent shopping for wedding dresses and mother-of-the-bride outfits.’
‘Wasted time? It wasn’t wasted, it was time with my daughter. And let’s not worry about money for the moment.’
‘I’ll work super hard so I can pay back all the non-refundable things.’
‘That reminds me,’ Mum begins, while I dish up a big fat plate of pasta. ‘I wondered what your plans were about London, if you know.’
London. Our ‘new beginning’.
‘We’ve given up the flat. There’s no way either of us could afford to live there alone, and I can’t face the thought of living there with Matt as just a roommate. It momentarily crossed my mind before I realised that I was being nuts. Luckily, it’s still enough in advance that they’ve given us our security deposit and first month’s rent back. It’s only the estate agent fees we’ve lost now.’
‘Are you still going to go to London and do the internship?’
I shrugged. ‘I haven’t got that far in my thinking yet.’
What I meant was, it’s on my mind all the time but I have no idea what to do. At the moment, I don’t even want to go to London. I was so excited about it but it has a dark cloud over it and now I’m struggling to muster the enthusiasm. Maybe it was never really there. That’s the problem with shared dreams, isn’t it, knowing just how much of yourself is wrapped up in them, and how much was never really part of your dream in the first place.
The magazine though … that was me, right? I remember being right here in this kitchen when I got the call …
17 January
Friday evening, 7.05pm
‘I got the job.’ I’m shaking as I stand in front of Matt and my family. My mum was just serving up the lasagne she’d made for us all that Friday evening when it had just become late enough that all hope I’d had of being chosen had drifted away on the cold January breeze. ‘They said we’d hear by the end of the week – I thought they mustn’t have picked me.’
Mara walked into our kitchen from washing her hands. ‘Wait, you heard about the internship?’
I faced my big sister, surprise still painted across the freckles on my face. ‘I did. I got it.’
Mara threw her arms around me which prompted everyone else into action and my siblings – all home for the weekend from their various parts of the country for Mum’s birthday – crowded me, asking questions, singing congratulations. I looked past them at Matt, because this affected him too. If I took this internship it meant uprooting our lives and moving to London. ‘What do you think?’ I asked him.
It was unfair of me to put him on the spot like that in front of everyone, but I was so taken by surprise that Adventure Awaits magazine, one of the biggest travel magazines in the country and whose pages I’d thumbed through since my mum subscribed after my dad left, wanted me.
‘You’ve got to take it,’ Marissa said. ‘Remember that game where we’d make each other choose a page and—’
‘—And then we’d say, “You’ve won a trip to Cuba!”’ Benny interjected.
‘“Do you want to keep it or gamble it for Graham’s prize?”’ Marissa finished, with a laugh.
I pulled myself from their arms and their memories, though I could have stayed wrapped in them for ever, and took Matt aside, trying to read his face like I usually could. ‘What do you think? Be honest.’
He smiled at me. Damn, he can still melt me with a smile, I thought. I can’t wait to marry him.
‘I think this is going to be big, and you have to go for it.’
I blinked back tears of relief. ‘But it would mean we’d have to move to London.’
‘Weren’t we planning to anyway at some point?’
‘But this is forcing our hand. It hasn’t given you time to look for a new job.’
‘We’ve been talking about moving there since finishing uni. Now is the right time.’
‘I won’t be making any money, and right off the back of our wedding and honeymoon …’
‘Well, if you don’t want to,’ he shrugged and picked a piece of garlic bread from the bowl on the table while my family watched on and Mara was rolling up her sleeves to kill him.
‘I do want to!’ I yelp.
‘Good. Then it’s happening.’ He grinned, chowing down on the garlic bread.
At that point, my mum swept me into her arms and breathed in my hair, the same chocolate-brown colour as hers. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ she said. ‘Don’t ever let anything stand in the way of making this life what you want from it.’
Mum cuts through my thoughts, saying, ‘You can move back in here, you know, properly, and take as long as you like to figure out the next steps.’
The newspaper I’d just left have said I can come
back to working for them any time.
I’m a train wreck, derailed from my own tracks, and I don’t know which is the safe way home.
‘Sooo, what we can do is cancel the flights and you can get some of your money back for those, but the tour is non-refundable,’ the travel agent says to us, with the awkward ‘sorry’ face that anyone in his position would put on when a couple comes in to cancel a honeymoon. I look at Matt, at his unshaven face and tired eyes. I’m glad to see him looking a similar level of dishevelled as me because at least it seems that this has been hard for him too. He must be allowing himself a mourning period before chasing after pretty, preppy Katie. I snort through my nostrils at the memory and turn back to the agent.
‘And our travel insurance won’t cover it?’
‘Not in this instance. Because this counts as you changing your mind, not like, a horrific accident or something, so all you can get back is what the airline and tour company are offering.’ He swallows, clearly hating this part of his job. ‘One moment, let me just check something.’ The agent scurries off, but whether he’s checking something or begging somebody else to take over is to be seen.
Matt turns to me. ‘Maybe we should just go.’
‘Maybe you should take Katie,’ I retort, and he looks a little chastised. I soften. ‘I don’t think a Honeymoon Highlights tour is what either of us need right now.’
‘You were so looking forward to it, though.’
‘So were you, weren’t you? Don’t tell me this is something else you didn’t really want to do?’
‘Of course I was, but Japan was an adventure you’d always really wanted to take. You’ve always been more adventurous than I have, Charlie. You spent hours, days, weeks, months researching this trip.’
