by Unknown
The music starts up and I’m still none the wiser as to the song choice. And then I realise I have never heard Mark sing. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. Aside from when we’ve been to Foo Fighters or the Killers gigs, when you all shout and can’t hear anything, I’ve never heard a note come out of Mark’s mouth. He doesn’t sing in the shower, in the car, anywhere. He’s definitely your silent-head-bobber-cum-finger-tapper.
As he sings the first lines of the song, I’m instantly confused. If I’m not mistaken, he’s singing Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believing’. Is that supposed to be a metaphor for our marriage? I’m looking at him in confusion, but he’s staring so hard at the lyrics screen that he’s oblivious.
I think there’s a reason that I’ve never heard Mark sing before and that is because he’s not blessed with a crooning voice like Nick. But, bless him, he’s belting the song out with conviction. I look around the dance floor behind me, no one seems to notice the bum notes or the shaky speed of singing, everyone’s just joining in and rocking along.
I turn back to Mark and smile at him to watch him, in this moment that I know will never in a million years be repeated. It must be killing him to be up there in front of all these people he doesn’t know singing his heart out and asking for us to believe in our marriage. It warms the cockles of my heart. I have to close my eyes at a couple of the high notes, so I make up for it by whooping loudly at his impressive air guitar during the bass solo.
When the song finishes, Mark walks off stage. He grabs my waist and pulls me towards him before kissing me more passionately than I can remember for a long while. I don’t know whether it was seeing him on stage, but I kiss him back like my life depended on it. I know in that moment that Mark and I will work things out.
‘That was meant to be “Faithfully” by Journey,’ Mark whispers in my ear. ‘It’s all about trust, but I guess the band didn’t know how to play it.’
‘That was much better,’ I say. ‘And don’t worry, Mark, I won’t stop believing in our marriage.’
I know there’s a lot for us to sort through, but we’re going to do it. And here, in Mark’s arms, I feel a teeny bit happier that my life might not be such a big mess after all.
chapter twenty-seven
princess-on-a-shoestring real wedding:
Country Chic
Henri and Nick may have set out to have a classic princess wedding, but after a little hitch with the weather, we hastily transformed their wedding into a country chic affair. Henri rocked her TK Maxx dress which would have looked fab no matter what the theme. Ivory heels were replaced by beautiful brown cowboy boots from R Soles and the tiara gave way to a cowboy hat. Not only did Henri look great, but it was practical with the muddy marquee. The guests had a blast with the spare cowboy hats and hay bales, creating great photo opportunities. To get the look, you’ll need: sandbags, hay bales, a few country props and some hand-painted wooden signs.
Tags: country chic, cowboy hats, Henri and Nick.
I wake up still in my blue dress, lying on top of my duvet. I’ve got my head buried in the crook of Mark’s neck.
We didn’t talk last night when we got back. If I’m honest I cried like a baby. I cried because I’d messed up my job, because I hadn’t told Mark about Giles and because I was exhausted. But, most of all, I cried because I wasn’t sure that Mark and I would ever have trust in our marriage.
‘You awake?’ asks Mark as he sits up.
‘Yeah, I’ve been awake for ages.’
‘So, where do we start?’ asks Mark.
‘I don’t know.’
Mark rubs his hair briskly. If this was any other Sunday morning, with him looking all sleepy and sexy, we would have been trying for stage six of our life plan. But not today.
‘I’ll talk to Beth about a making a repayment plan for the credit card,’ I say, knowing he’d be as concerned about the debt as I am. That’s effectively wiped out the savings we’ve managed to accumulate since the wedding.
‘You don’t have to worry about that. When she told me all about it, she said she’d spoken to her dad and that he was going to pay it.’
‘Her dad?’
‘Yeah, apparently so. I don’t know the details, but I’m sure you can phone her later on to see.’
I nod my head and hope that with Beth telling her dad what’s going on, that she’s starting to face up to her problems.
‘That’s one less thing to worry about then,’ I say, sighing.
Only our marriage and my job to save now then.
‘Why did you open my credit card bill?’ I ask. ‘Did you suspect I was up to something?’
‘No, it was a complete accident. Both our statements arrived and I opened yours thinking it was mine. And then when I saw the Bill Hall payments, I just assumed—’
‘But you were right to assume, Mark. I mean, it’s logical assumption: I am a gambling addict, and I guess I always will be. I may not have gambled in a year, but I’m still a gambler.’
The words hang awkwardly in the air.
‘What I don’t know is whether you’re ever going to be able to trust me again. I mean, maybe I broke our trust too much last year.’
‘Penny, don’t talk like that.’
‘But it’s true, Mark. I don’t want you to always assume the worst of me when things go wrong.’
‘I’m sorry, Pen, I really am. And I do trust you. I do.’
I feel Mark’s arms pulling me into him.
‘We’ve only been married a year, and we’re already having awful arguments.’
‘One argument, Pen, it’s hardly the same thing.’
‘But still, maybe we shouldn’t have got married, maybe it was the wrong thing to do.’
‘Well, therein lies the problem, Penny Robinson, I told you once that I don’t believe in divorce, so I guess we’re stuck with each other.’
I half laugh and half cry.
‘Well, as long as you’re stuck with me and you’re not letting me go, then I guess I should tell you the one secret that I currently have from you.’
‘So you were hiding a secret?’
‘Well, yes and no. I found out at the wedding reception that Henri’s dad was my boss, Giles.’
‘Giles? Giles your new big boss?’
‘Yep, Giles my new big boss who doesn’t approve of moonlighting. He knows now about the wedding planning, about my magazine article … everything.’
Mark breathes out a whistling noise.
‘When things go wrong in your life they really go wrong.’
‘Aren’t you mad? Aren’t you going to tell me you told me so? You never wanted me to do the wedding planning.’
‘I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t thrilled about it, but it was pretty unlucky that Giles was Henri’s father.’
‘I know, what are the odds, right? What am I going to do?’
‘I’m sure we’ll think of something.’
‘So you don’t want to change your mind from what you said before, that you don’t believe in divorce?’
‘Nope, I still don’t believe in it, Mrs Robinson. We’ll figure this out together.’
I lay back into Mark’s arms and whilst I am still not sure what is going to happen tomorrow, I know one thing for certain; that it feels a whole lot better facing it with Mark on my side.
*
Every part of my body is shaking by the time I get into work on Monday. I know what I have to do, I just don’t know if I can actually go through with it.
Mark and I spent the whole day working out my options and talking through different scenarios.
Giles walks past me to go into his office, he doesn’t even acknowledge that Shelly and I are sat at our desks, much to Shelly’s disappointment. I see her look down like a hurt puppy as if she’s wondering what she’s done wrong.
‘Penny,’ shouts Giles, from his office.
I look at Shelly and give her a smile. In just a few minutes she’s going to learn that she’s got the promoti
on.
‘Come in and shut the door,’ says Giles as I barely get over the threshold.
‘Giles—’
‘Let me talk first, Penny, thank you,’ he says coldly. ‘I am extremely disappointed with you. I’d already decided that I was going to give you the promotion as I believe that you had the makings of a good manager.’
I know that sentence was past tense, but I can’t help but be a little proud by his commendation.
‘But then I find out that you’ve been lying and running your wedding planning business. After all that stuff with Indy; you know the risks involved in running a company on your own time without declaring it.’
‘I know, I—’
‘Don’t interrupt. I spoke to Henri yesterday and she told me about how she’d begged you to plan her wedding and how it’s going to be your last. Which leads me to believe your company is effectively wound up as of yesterday, am I right?’
I’m about to answer, but it seems that that was a rhetorical question anyway.
‘Gunther couldn’t sing your praises highly enough last week; he seemed quite taken with you. In fact, he suggested we put you on the company’s fast-track management programme.’
I feel sick and I wonder if I’ll ever tell Mark that. But then I know I will, after all, we’re not having secrets, no matter how big or small.
‘Taking that into consideration, I’ve decided that although we can’t promote you to supervisor, that I will take no further action and you can remain in your post.’
I open and shut my mouth.
‘Thank you, Giles,’ I say.
‘Very well. Shut the door on your way out,’ he says as he puts his glasses back on.
‘I’m sorry, Giles, but I’ve got something to say. Thank you very much for being so understanding and for taking all that into consideration. And thank you for the kind things you’ve said about me making a good manager. It makes it slightly easier to do what I’m about to. You see, I’m resigning, I’ve got a letter here with one month’s notice.’
I place the letter on the desk and push it towards Giles.
‘Penny, there’s really no need; I’ve said you can keep your job.’
‘But that’s just it, Giles. I’ve learnt a lot about myself over the last few months. I think, to be honest, I’ve been coasting here, and I’ve been coasting for a while. The chance of a promotion was a great thing to get me motivated and to invigorate me again. But do you know what? I don’t want the promotion. What I’ve learnt is that I love wedding planning, and I’m good at it. I love the problem-solving, and I love the people. I know that a lot of the skills I’ve learnt in HR are relevant and it just feels like a good fit.’
Giles has taken off his glasses again, and I think there’s a small smirk that’s broken out across his lips.
‘Henri and I wondered if you’d do that.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes. The wedding you organised yesterday was great, and Henri told me what kind of a budget you’d done it on. Anyone would have been able to see that you can’t do that without having a passion for what you’re doing.’
‘So you don’t think I’m crazy for giving up my job?’
‘No, not crazy. I think you’re brave. There are some people, like me, that will always be cogs in a corporate wheel, but then there are others who have a different type of drive and, Penny, I’ve seen that in you. I think Gunther saw that too.’
I breathe the biggest sigh of relief, I’ve been dreading handing in my notice ever since I made the decision. I know starting my own business is a risky strategy, but Mark’s promotion will help us financially, and I can always get a part-time job – one without such a strict policy on moonlighting – whilst I get Princess-on-a-Shoestring properly off the ground.
‘Thank you, Giles, for being so understanding.’
‘Good luck, Penny. And if I ever find the next Mrs Bishop, I’ll be giving you a call.’
I shudder at the thought of who would marry Giles.
‘I’ll be here until the nineteenth of August,’ I say, standing up before he can dismiss me, for a change.
‘Very well.’
I walk out of Giles’s office while I still can. My legs have turned to jelly. I need a minute before I sit back at my desk, so I head outside to phone Mark and let him know that I did it. But my phone rings before I get a chance.
‘Hello,’ I say.
‘Penny? It’s Jane here, from Bridal Dreams. How are you?’
‘Fine thanks,’ I say with a sense of trepidation. I was counting on Bridal Dreams being instrumental in marketing Princess-on-a-Shoestring and now I bet she’s phoning up to fire me after a month. This is just typical. The curse of Penny Robinson strikes again.
‘Great stuff. Look, I just got a phone call from a literary agent I know. She wanted your contact details and I just wanted to check it was all right to pass them on?’
I’m too shocked to speak.
‘Penny?’
‘Yes, I’m still here. And yes, that’s fine. Do you know what she wants to talk to me about?’
‘She loves your blog and she thinks there’s a market for a non-fiction title on budget weddings and that you should write it.’
‘She what? Oh my God.’
‘I know, that’s why I thought I’d phone. I’ll pass on your details. Speak soon.’
As Jane hangs up, I stare at the phone and wonder if I’ve dreamt this morning. Did that really just happen?
There’s only one person that I want to tell.
‘Mark, you’re never going to guess what’s just happened to me. Are you sitting down?’
As I tell Mark, I wonder what stage of life this Princess-on-a-Shoestring segment is going to be as it wasn’t in our grand life plan. But maybe the last few months have taught me that you can’t plan everything, and maybe that’s why life’s so exciting.
Acknowledgements
Firstly, I should probably say thank you to those people whose wedding stories inspired elements in this book: AnnMarie, Christie and Simon, and my sister Jane, you know which bits!
Hannah Ferguson, and those at the Marsh Agency deserve a big thank you. It’s been a great year – here’s to many more.
To the team at Quercus – it’s been lovely working with you on the book from start to finish. I’d like to thank my former editor Jo Dickinson, and Kathryn Taussig, for untangling the knots in the manuscript. Special thanks to Lauren Woosey, Caroline Butler, and Iain Millar for all your hard work on this and Don’t Tell the Groom.
I’ve been overwhelmed by the support of my lovely friends and family. Thanks for not only buying my books but for also acting like personal PRs. My virtual friends in the shape of Team Novelicious deserve a mention too for being fabulous cheerleaders.
As ever, I couldn’t have written the book without the love of family. My husband Steve for being a great slave-driver and making sure I actually finish my books. My dog Rex for allowing me to take him for walks so I can iron out the crinkles of plots. My baby boy, Evan, we’ll gloss over the fact that he made it tricky for me to write the first draft with the morning sickness, and instead focus on the fact that he slept so sweetly (often in my arms) whilst I edited.
Last – but not least – I want to thank the lovely readers, bloggers and tweeters that have enjoyed my books. On a bad writing day there is nothing nicer than a tweet telling you that your book made someone smile.
12 Facts about Anna Bell
What’s your comfort food?
It’s got to be beans on toast. I lived in the US for a year and after a year without them I’ve never taken them for granted since
What’s your favourite tipple?
If it’s cold enough for a jumper, then it has to be Baileys. If it’s not Bailey’s weather, or it’s a lively night out, then there’s nothing like a nice chilled bottle of Prosecco to start the night off
Dog or cat?
Always dog. I have a big soppy labrador that I adore
What kee
ps you sane?
Going for long walks with my husband and dog. I spend long periods of time shut away writing and my husband drags me out and forces me to get fresh air. Not only does it mean I actually leave the house, but I usually am so much more productive after
What would people be surprised to discover about you?
As a chick-lit writer, I think people would be surprised to know that I used to be a curator at a military museum. It means I have a vast knowledge on guns and military equipment. It was a fabulous job and meant I got to do all sorts of weird and wonderful things. I’m just hoping one day I have reason to call on this odd knowledge for a book!
Town or country?
Having spent my teens living in a hamlet in the country, I always thought the answer would be town. Yet, my priorities have changed since becoming a full-time writer and now having the countryside on my doorstop for dog walks is far more important than being surrounded by hustle and bustle
What’s your favourite holiday read?
I think holiday reading is all about indulging your guilty pleasures. I usually take two types of books to read on holiday: a cracking chick-lit read that you just know is going to be good, like a Sophie Kinsella, and a thriller by an author like Dan Brown or Sam Bourne
What scares you?
I have an irrational fear of fireworks. On Bonfire Night, you’ll find me tucked up inside the house, away from windows, like one of the pets
Sweet or savoury?
It really depends on my mood. I guess it would be sweet, as I’d never turn down a cake, although a good cheeseboard would come a close second
Read the book or watch the film first?
If I’m going to be doing both, then it has to be the book first. I hate reading a book after seeing the film as I can only then see the actors. It takes away from my imagination, and there’s always so much more plot to the book
