‘You can’t do that. They’ll be expecting to see us both.’
Piers shrugs. ‘It’s our wedding, Carolyn. We can do whatever we want. I’ll tell them you’ve got one of those hair and make-up rehearsal things. Come on.’ He pulls her gently to her feet. ‘Let’s get you in the shower. We’ll wash everything away – the hangover, the stress. I want to see you smile again.’
‘I don’t think there’s a shower powerful enough for that,’ Carolyn says, but there is a hint of a smile already going on.
‘I’m really sorry.’ I roll my eyes and plonk myself down in the seat opposite Archie. I’m about an hour late, even though I didn’t blow-dry my hair properly. It’s still damp on my neck, but I didn’t want to leave Archie waiting in the dining room any longer. Plus, I’m starving. ‘We’re having a bit of a nightmare up there, but I think it’s all sorted now.’
‘It’s okay.’ Archie looks up from his coffee with a smile. ‘You’re worth waiting for.’
I’m not sure how delicate Carolyn’s feeling after her revitalising shower, but I’m feeling rather sickly right about now.
‘Shall we get some breakfast?’ Archie pushes his coffee away and stands up. ‘I think we’ve missed out on the baked eggs with spinach, though.’
What a shame, I think as we move across the room to the buffet cart, but I manage to push down my sarcasm and fix a hopeful smile in place.
‘Maybe they’ll have more tomorrow?’
Archie places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. ‘This is what I like about you, Emily. Your optimism! You’re so positive and bright. Nothing gets you down.’
He obviously doesn’t know me at all and is going to be sorely disappointed by the end of the week.
‘We all need to be more like you, Emily!’
I’m almost shaking with the suppressed need to bat his hand away from my shoulder. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’
‘It’s true.’ Archie indicates that I should help myself to the food on offer first, so I grab a plate and start piling it with scrambled eggs and wholemeal toast. If I have to endure breakfast with this man, I’m going to damn well enjoy it. ‘So, what are our plans for the day?’
I freeze, the scrambled eggs suspended between the buffet cart and my plate. ‘You mean after breakfast?’ I wasn’t aware we’d made plans to do anything, at least not together.
‘Yes.’ Archie helps himself to a single slice of toast. ‘What fun things are we going to do?’
‘I was going to go up to the library.’ I haven’t had chance to visit the library yet, but Alice has told me it’s stuffed to the gills with dusty old books, which is my idea of heaven, but it won’t be Archie’s cup of tea.
Will it?
‘Do you know, I haven’t been to the castle library for…’ He shakes his head as he places a solitary rasher of bacon on his plate. ‘Well, a very long time. I’d love to join you. Thank you.’
I wasn’t aware I’d invited him to join me, but whatever. At least if Alice gets wind of our library excursion (which I will make sure she does), she’ll be satisfied I’m upholding my end of the bargain.
‘And then afterwards, we could take a stroll around the grounds.’ Archie pops a grilled tomato on his plate and a tiny portion of mushrooms. ‘There’s so much I want to show you, Emily. You have to have the full Durban Castle experience.’
‘We aren’t going to play spin the bottle under the umbrella tree, are we?’ I’m masking my discomfort with a joke, realising too late that I’m supplying him with ideas.
Shut your gob, Emily.
‘Ha ha. Not really my style any more, I’m afraid.’ Archie starts to move away from the buffet cart, so I shove a little bit more of the scrambled eggs on my plate and grab a cup of coffee from the posh machine set up next to the cart before I join him at our table.
‘So…’ Archie waits for me to sit down before he picks up his cutlery. ‘Library first, and then a lovely stroll. Perhaps we could ask Lilianna to arrange a flask of tea and bit of cake. There’s a gorgeous little meadow on the other side of the stream, up by the chapel.’
‘That sounds…’ Too romantic for my liking and not something I want to participate in, no matter how much it would thrill Alice.
‘Archie!’ There’s a huge sigh of relief coming from the direction of the dining room door (at least I think that’s where it was from. It could quite easily have gushed from me as I’m saved from having to finish my sentence). ‘I have been looking for you everywhere! Why is your phone going straight to voicemail?’ Francelia, who is descending upon us, narrows her eyes.
‘I wanted some peace and quiet while I had breakfast with Emily,’ Archie says, which causes Francelia’s mouth to purse. ‘Not from you, obviously. You know you’re my favourite aunt.’
What a lick arse!
‘Hmm.’ Francelia’s face and tone conveys that she suspects there’s a healthy dose of hogwash shovelled into Archie’s words, but she relents and drops a kiss on top of his head. ‘You’re a darling boy.’
‘Why did you need me?’ Archie grabs a napkin and dabs at his mouth. ‘Is it urgent?’ He’s already scraping back his chair.
‘It is, rather.’ Francelia emits a sigh and shakes her head. ‘Peter and Henrietta have arrived, but I can’t find Piers or Carolyn anywhere. She knew Piers’ parents were arriving this morning. Why does she have to be so irresponsible?’
‘Have you checked their room?’ Archie asks, which earns him a tut from his aunt.
‘Of course. That was the first place I checked, but there’s nobody there. I even talked Lilianna into loaning me the master key.’
What a gross invasion of privacy. I know for a fact that Carolyn is tucked up in Alice’s bed (it’s where I left her, with Piers practising his wedding speech as though it was a bedtime story), but I’m not about to divulge the information. It sounds like their absence is going to offer me a reprieve from tea and cake in the meadow for a start.
‘Roderick still isn’t here.’ Francelia’s voice is rising as a vein at her temple threatens to pop. ‘And I have so much to do. Carolyn didn’t want to hire a wedding planner as I suggested – no, she wanted to do it her damn self, but guess what that equates to?’ She jabs a thumb at her chest. ‘It equates to me having to take on all the responsibility for this wedding!’
Francelia is so close to losing her shit. I’m tempted to whip out my phone and record it to show Alice later. There’s no way she’d believe me otherwise.
‘Aunt Francelia.’ Archie places a calming hand on her arm. ‘Would you like me to look after Piers’ parents until either Piers or Carolyn are found?’
Francelia’s knees seem to give way. She clings to the table with one hand and Archie’s arm with the other. ‘Oh, would you? Oh, you’re a sweet, sweet boy.’ Francelia kisses her nephew on the cheek before gathering herself, throwing her shoulders back and adjusting her chin so it’s jutting into the air. ‘That would be a great help, Archie. Thank you.’ She turns to me, her usual icy demeanour back in place. ‘Would you please tell Alice that I cannot attend dinner tonight? I cannot possibly leave Peter and Henrietta to fend for themselves on their first night here. Lord knows, Carolyn isn’t proving to be much of a hostess.’
Ah, yes. The treasure-hunt prize. I’d forgotten about that. ‘I’m sure Alice will be gutted you can’t make it.’
Francelia is already marching back towards the door. ‘Yes, I’m sure she will be utterly devastated at missing out on a dinner date with her wicked stepmother.’ She raises a hand and performs a beckoning motion. ‘Come along, Archie.’
Archie groans and brings my hand to his lips, pressing them to my fingers. ‘Talk about rubbish timing, eh?’
I attempt to hide the grimace but fear I’ve done a pretty shoddy job of it. ‘Never mind. We’ll catch up later.’
‘Yes,’ Archie says. ‘I’d like that. Perhaps we’ll make it to the meadow after all.’
Not if I have anything to do with it.
; Chapter Twenty-Two
The library is glorious, with books dating back centuries, and while they are rather dusty, they’re fascinating, and I wish I could forget about the wedding and Archie and spend the next few days curled up in here. In fact, I’d quite like to move into Durban Castle’s library and devour its rich history. I wonder if I could somehow arrange a class trip here next term…
I’m in danger of salivating over the ancient tomes as I run my fingers over their cracked spines, selecting a few to pore over before carrying them with the care I’d afford a newborn baby over to the large, arched window overlooking the tennis courts to the side of the property. There’s a doubles match taking place down there, but I pay no attention as I lose myself in the texts. Before I know it, a couple of hours have passed and my neck and spine are stiff from hunching over the books for so long. I notice the tennis court is now empty as I stand to stretch. I have no idea who won the match.
After returning the books to their shelves, I slip out of the library and head out of the front entrance, giving Old Rusty a farewell pat on the shoulder on the way. The day is glorious, the sky a clear blue with only the wispiest of clouds breaking it up, but there’s a cooling breeze taking away the stickiness of the heat. I make my way around the castle’s perimeter, ending up at the chapel. There’s another rose garden here, much larger than the one at the front of the castle, and the scent is divine; sweet but not cloying, potent without overpowering the senses. I’m dipping my nose towards a golden yellow rose when I hear a familiar voice.
‘Hopefully, the weather will be just as magnificent on Saturday. But we’ll have a fantastic day, rain or shine.’
Fudge. It’s Archie, who I assume has been showing Piers’ parents where their son will be getting married in a few days. He doesn’t sound very far away. Any moment now, he’s going to appear and I’ll end up roped into a dreamy tea break in the meadow. Or worse; I’ll end up playing Mrs Tour Guide alongside Archie.
Without pausing to think about it, I hit the deck, scuttling across the grass on my hands and knees so I can hide behind the rosebushes. My heart is beating so loudly, I’m sure they’ll detect my presence immediately.
‘What are you doing?’ I hadn’t realised, but in the midst of the blooms is Tom, the short sleeves of his T-shirt showing off his tanned, toned arms. I recall the ease with which he’d scooped Carolyn up into those arms last night, but I shove the thought away.
‘Ssh!’ I place a finger up to my lips and indicate that Tom should get down on his hands and knees too. He looks at me as though I’m mad. And quite rightly so.
‘Are you having a funny turn? Should I go and find Alice?’
‘No!’ I hiss, my eyes darting to the tops of the rosebushes. I can’t hear Archie any more, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t out there, hovering, waiting to catch me out. I need to stay here, calmly and quietly, until the coast is clear. Which would have worked out perfectly if I hadn’t been set upon by a fat-arsed bee. I make such a fuss as I jump up onto my feet that the villagers down in Little Heaton must hear me yelping and squealing like a wuss.
‘Just stay still,’ Tom calls, and I’m too petrified to cringe at my wimpy reaction. ‘It won’t bother you if you stop flapping.’
I freeze in the most awkward position, one arm reaching for the sky, the other tucked into my body while one leg juts out in front of me.
‘It’s okay.’ Tom is inching towards me, as though I’ll attack him if he makes any sudden movements. ‘He’s just going about his business. Keep calm.’
Keep. Calm? That’s easy for him to say – he wasn’t just ambushed by the stripy little bastard! Although, thinking about it, the bee didn’t actually ambush me, unless flying past my face counts? No, probably not.
‘Relax. He’s forgotten all about you now.’
I look around and spot my attacker innocently hovering above one of the roses. My limbs soften and return to their natural positions.
‘He, um, took me by surprise.’ My whole body is tingling, either from the fright or the shame that is now flooding my system. What an idiot!
‘You sort of get used to them doing this job.’ Tom smiles kindly at me. ‘How about a cup of sweet tea? For the shock?’ He nods at a black rucksack sitting on the ground. ‘I’ve got a flask. I was just about to have a break anyway.’
I’m about to shake my head and make my excuses and leave, but a cup of tea does sound lovely, actually. Plus, I seem to be safe here. Archie hasn’t passed, and if he was nearby he’d have been alerted to my whereabouts by my yelps.
‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ I say, pushing down the embarrassment that is encouraging me to flee.
‘How about we head over to the chapel?’ He picks up the bag and starts to wander out of the rose garden. ‘There’s a bench outside and not so many killer bees.’
‘Are they really killer bees?’ I ask, approximately two milliseconds before I realise he’s teasing me. ‘Oh, ha ha. Very funny. You’re wasted as a gardener. You should be a stand-up comedian.’
‘Nah. I tried it once at an open mic night at the Royal Oak. Apparently, I’m “as funny as a bout of bad diarrhoea”. I wasn’t aware you could get a bout of good diarrhoea, to be honest.’
‘Sounds like there were some harsh critics in the audience.’
‘Critics?’ Tom plonks his bag down in the middle of the bench. ‘That was my dad.’
‘Oh.’ I try to mask my giggle and fail miserably, but Tom is smiling too.
‘He’s a character, my dad. I miss him being around the place.’ Tom looks around the grounds for a moment before turning back to me with a wry smile. ‘I mean, he’d have told me the lawns weren’t perfect enough, or I was using the wrong method to deadhead the roses.’ Tom waggles his finger and adopts a mock-stern tone. ‘I’ve been deadheading my roses using the twist and snap method since I was a nipper. My grandmother taught me everything I know, and she had the most beautiful blooms you can imagine.’ Tom reaches into his bag and pulls out the flask. When he speaks again, his normal tone is back. ‘It could be a nightmare working for my dad at times – he was a real perfectionist – but he certainly made it interesting. And his roses were far superior to mine.’
‘Really?’ I look behind us, towards the rose garden. ‘They look pretty spectacular to me. I can’t even keep a spider plant alive. My Aunt Dorothy said they were impossible to kill.’ I place a hand on my chest. ‘I managed to assassinate it within two weeks.’
Tom laughs as he twists the cup off the top of the flask. ‘Not everybody is green-fingered, but it helped that Dad was so passionate about his gardening. It was an art form to him.’ He holds up the little plastic cup. ‘I only have one, I’m afraid. Is sharing okay? I promise I’m in good health.’
Is it me, or is sharing a cup quite intimate? I think it’s the fact that lip is practically touching lip, only a moment or two apart. It’s almost kissing, if you think about it. But I am quite keen on that cup of tea now the offer has been made, and we are a few minutes’ walk away from the castle. Plus, I run the risk of running into Archie if I head back.
‘Sharing is fine.’ Under the circumstances.
‘It has milk and sugar.’ Tom has begun to pour the hot tea into the cup. ‘I hope that’s okay?’
‘Perfect. Thank you.’ I take the proffered cup and take a small sip before handing it back. ‘So, this rounders match this afternoon. You are going to take part, aren’t you?’
Tom takes a sip of the tea. I notice his lips are touching the opposite side of the cup to mine, so it isn’t like kissing at all. He places the cup down on the bench between us and starts to rummage in his bag. ‘I really don’t think I’ll have the time. There’s so much to do here, and one of the guys has phoned in sick this morning, so I have to cover his duties too.’
‘Carolyn will be disappointed if you don’t turn up.’ I can’t help thinking about those photos again. How can a group of friends be so close one minute and practically strangers the next?
&
nbsp; ‘She’ll barely even notice.’ Tom produces a foil package from his bag and starts to unwrap it.
‘She totally will. Didn’t you notice how excited she was to see you the other day?’
Tom holds out a triangle of sandwich. ‘Ham and cheese?’
I take the sandwich (I didn’t head down to the dining room for lunch, for fear of running into Archie) and thank Tom, but I won’t let him off the hook that easily.
‘Alice and Carolyn really want you to be part of their lives. I know they’re gutted how everything turned out.’
Tom takes a huge bite out of the corner of his sandwich, taking an age to chew it before finally speaking. ‘It’s just a bit awkward, I guess.’
‘Awkward how?’
Tom brings his sandwich towards his mouth, but I put a hand on his arm to stop it reaching its destination.
‘What happened here that last summer? Everybody is being really vague and it’s driving me nuts. I know Francelia’s necklace went missing and somehow found its way into Alice’s drawer, but I don’t understand how that affected your friendship with the others.’ My hand flies to my mouth and my eyes widen. ‘They didn’t think you’d put it there, did they?’
‘God, no.’ Tom looks horrified at the very thought.
‘Then what happened?’
Tom pauses for a moment before placing his sandwich down on the foil on his lap. ‘Fine. I’ll tell you, but I don’t think you’ll like it.’ I inch towards him slightly, mindful of the cup of tea still between us. ‘I sort of accused Archie of stealing the necklace and planting it in Alice’s drawer.’ Tom scratches the back of his neck. ‘Actually, no. There’s no sort of about it. I accused him of taking it and blaming it on Alice.’
I frown. ‘But why would I give a toss about you accusing Archie?’
Tom narrows his eyes slightly as he looks at me, and when he speaks, his words are slow and measured. ‘Because you and Archie are…’ He shrugs. ‘I’m not sure what you are. Dating? Seeing each other? Boyfriend and girlfriend?’
‘Oh!’ Of course. How could I forget that we’re supposed to be involved? ‘Dating, I suppose, though we haven’t had an actual date, unless you count eating breakfast together. It isn’t serious or anything. We’ve only just met. We haven’t even kissed.’ I’m aware I’m babbling, so I take a deep breath to calm myself. ‘Anyway, why would Archie frame Alice?’
The Wedding that Changed Everything Page 16
