The Big Little Wedding in Carlton Square

by Lilly Bartlett

  And Uncle Barbara is talking to his sons. I’m about to go over to say hello, but then I stop. Let them catch up first. I wasn’t sure about inviting them. I didn’t want to make Uncle Barbara uncomfortable, or sad if they didn’t turn up, so I didn’t tell him until they RSVP’d.

  His eldest gestures to the bridesmaid’s dress. ‘Thank you,’ I see Uncle Barbara say. Then my cousin smiles and nods. Uncle Barbara gathers his sons into a ferocious embrace.

  I’ll say hello later.

  ‘Emma? You’d better come,’ Stacy Boyle says. ‘We may have a problem.’

  I can see what she means from where we’re standing. Lurking at the edge of the square are five teens that I don’t know. They look like the phone stall boys do when they’re not in their Crown Court suits pretending to be the Secret Service. But those aren’t our boys. ‘It’s a public square,’ I say. ‘Maybe they’re just neighbours.’ Billy and the councillor knocked on all the doors in the area to let the residents know about the party today, and to invite them in for a drink if they fancied it.

  ‘I don’t know. They look like trouble. Where’s Billy?’

  ‘He had to go to work.’

  ‘That figures,’ she says. ‘There’s never a copper around when you need one. I don’t suppose the muppets could run them off?’ She gestures to one of the phone stall boys before answering her own question. ‘I’ll get Colin.’

  My uncle is no stranger to persuading trouble to leave the premises. Just his hulking presence should be enough to scare them off. He looks positively enormous in his suit. But just as he starts toward them, I notice that they’ve drawn a crowd. Daniel’s side has closed in on them in a semi-circle and they seem to be waiting for something.

  ‘Uncle Colin?’ I rush over to him. We can’t make a scene.

  ‘Will there be a show?’ I hear Lady Mucking ask. ‘I’ve seen these break-dancers on the South Bank. No, it was that Stomp, where they drummed on rubbish bins.’

  My eyes are drawn to all the fancy handbags dangling from the women’s arms. Those boys don’t have drumming on their minds.

  But the guests think they’re part of the wedding. ‘Uncle Colin?’ I whisper in his ear. He nods and goes to talk quietly to the boys. They shoot menacing looks at the guests as he leads them out of the square. The guests are thrilled with the authenticity of their outrage.

  I don’t know who starts slow clapping, but soon they’re all at it, and it’s drawing more people over to see what’s going on. Now everyone thinks those boys are performers. They’re expecting a show!

  Del’s a good piano player, but I can’t really expect him to be much good at beatbox and breakdancing.

  But if they want a performance, we’ll have to have to give them a performance. I’ve got an idea.

  Everyone turns to me when I wave for attention. ‘Ladies and gents, the dancers have just gone off to practice and they’ll come on shortly. I’ll be right back,’ I tell Daniel.

  It takes Kelly about thirty seconds to get her plan together. Sweeping the phone stall boys in her wake, she heads off. ‘Give us fifteen minutes and make the announcement when I tell you, okay?’

  Chapter 21

  There’s no way for Rasta Reg to make a discrete entrance with his waist-long dreadlocks and his yellow, green and black Jamaican-themed bicycle, but at this point our guests are expecting anything to happen, so it kind of fits with the day.

  I grab Daniel’s hand and lead the wedding party over to where the crowd is still milling around. There’s a current of excitement now. Everyone knows something’s about to happen. The phone stall boys have ditched their Crown Court appearance suits and are back in their usual jeans and hoodies. I doubt anyone realises they’re not the same boys that Uncle Colin just led away. They’re being their usual selves, ripping on each other, doing the swingy arm gangster walk and throwing made-up gang signs with their hands.

  One by one they stride out behind one another, doing big arm claps to get everyone to join in while forcing them back into a big circle. Daniel is grinning for all he’s worth.

  ‘It’s one surprise after another,’ his dad says.

  Tell me about it.

  Music booms from Rasta Reg’s sound system. He’s a regular round our neighbourhood, blasting reggae tunes every afternoon from the back of his bicycle. His route never changes and nobody wants to tell him we don’t all enjoy reggae as much as he does.

  But it’s not reggae this time. It’s Beyoncé’s ‘Crazy in Love’. When the music starts up, our friends – Daniel’s as much as mine – start head-bobbing. Love or hate the song, everyone knows it. When Kelly comes strutting into the middle of the circle in her own jeans and hoodie, even Hugh whoops his support.

  The boys move to the back of the circle as Kelly starts to lip-sync the intro and, I have to say, the boys’ twerking has lost none of its hilarity since they performed it as a surprise for Mum and Dad’s anniversary party. Which I now know was four months early. Kell’s moves are perfect as she struts back and forth singing and the boys wriggle behind her, and by the time Jez strides up to rap Jay Z’s part, heads are sticking out of windows all around the square. Seb and Jacob have synchronised their overbite sliding head moves, to the envy of all dads in the crowd. Then, just when it doesn’t seem like it can get any better, Auntie Rose and her ladies pop into the middle of the phone stall boys. Clearly they remember their choreography from the anniversary party too. Their moves are a little less exuberant than the other backing dancers – nobody wants to dislocate a hip – but the crowd goes mental.

  There’s a slightly tense moment when the audience demands an encore. Kelly and the boys only know one song. But the vicar soon distracts them with a full-throated rendition of ‘I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts’, drawing everyone over to the piano and leaving Daniel and me grinning at each other.

  ‘This is amahzing,’ he says. ‘Look at our wedding day! The sun is shining, everyone is having the time of their lives and I’m married to you. It couldn’t be more perfect.’

  There’s so much trust when he looks into my eyes. He has no idea that what he’s seeing is a mirage, that the wife he adores hasn’t been wholly truthful. I’m lying now by letting him believe this is all real. It’s not exactly how I thought I’d start my marriage, even if it is only to make him happy.

  Daniel trusts me. I’ve got to trust that he’ll understand. ‘Come with me,’ I say, leading him by the hand. ‘This is for your ears only. You can never tell your parents or their friends. Do you promise me?’

  And then I whisper all my secrets to him, from Mrs Delaney’s lace and serviettes to Beyoncé’s backing dancers to Zane’s wedding cake, Mrs Ishtiaque’s clever hearse disguise, the bridesmaids’ handmade market stall dresses and my Ma-nearlies, the impromptu sangria, chocolate sample strawberries and Victoria Park flowers. ‘Oh, and that’s from the funeral this morning,’ I say, pointing to the B-A-R sign. ‘It came off the hearse that drove us here.’

  ‘We really rode in a hearse on our wedding day?’ he says. ‘That’s a bit morbid.’

  ‘Yes, and, actually, there is one more thing. The marquee is a crime scene tent that Billy Bramble pinched from work. He may have to come get it if there’s a big murder in the area today.’

  As it all comes out, the enormity of what my family and friends have done together hits me. ‘It’s just that our budget was so small and your parents expected so much… you expected so much–’

  He kisses the end of my nose. ‘Emma, darling. I knew you were incredible when I met you. This puts you into a superhuman realm. My god, the resourcefulness… and I’m rahly so sorry. I got as carried away as Mummy did. You said from the start that there wasn’t much money to spend. I should have heeded that. I promise that I will from now on.’ He looks around. ‘I rahly can’t believe you’ve done all this. I love you more than anything in the world.’

  And that’s exactly what he says again later when he stands up after dinner to make his speech. He does a fanta
stic job of keeping up the illusion we’ve all worked so hard to create but cleverly manages to work in his thanks to every single person who’s helped. ‘And last but certainly not least.’ He pulls me to my feet to stand beside him. ‘I want to thank my wife for making me the happiest man in the world today. I can’t imagine my life without you.’ His hand seems to reach for my tummy in super slow motion, but even so, I can’t stop it before it lands on my tummy, where everyone’s eyes are suddenly drawn. ‘I can’t wait for us all to start our lives together.’

  His lips meet mine as everyone looks on in stunned silence. When I break off the kiss I glance down at myself. It’s so obvious now. How could I have thought it was hidden?

  Daniel realises what he’s done a split second after it sinks in with Philippa. My mother-in-law’s face registers complete shock. Hugh puts his arm round her shoulder.

  ‘Blimey, she’s preggers?’ Doreen says. Her comment rings out loud and clear across the heads of the guests. I can see Mum lean over to whisper urgently into Dad’s ear.

  When he looks at me I feel like I’ve let him down. I might not be able to read his expression, but I can guess what’s in his heart. I grasp Daniel’s hand harder.

  Dad struggles to his feet. I think he’s going to come to me, but instead he grabs a fork to ding against his glass. ‘I didn’t think anything could make me happier today than to see you two married, but I was wrong. To Emma and Daniel… and their family. Congratulations! We’ve got a lot to celebrate!’

  The cheers and congratulations seem to loosen Philippa’s expression. She manages a stunned smile as we make our way to her and Hugh. I want to talk to Dad too, but at least Mum’s with him. This is obviously as big a shock to Daniel’s parents as it is to Dad.

  ‘We were going to tell you right after the wedding,’ Daniel says. ‘We only found out a few weeks ago.’

  ‘How many weeks?’ Philippa asks me.

  ‘Thirteen, actually, so we can officially tell people now. Though this isn’t how we wanted to tell you. I’m sorry, Philippa.’ I’m not sure whether I’m apologising for the way they’ve found out or for being pregnant in the first place. ‘We had the scan last week. It’s twins.’

  Philippa’s hand flies to her mouth. ‘Twins? Hugh, it’s twins.’

  ‘THAT’s why you chucked at dinner!’ Abby says. ‘You didn’t have food poisoning.’

  ‘Not now, Abby,’ says Hugh. ‘We’ve all worked that out.’

  ‘You’re having twins?’ Philippa asks.

  ‘Twins,’ says Daniel. ‘Mummy, are you all right? Say something.’

  ‘All right? Am I all right? I’m marvellous, darlings! Twins, what fun! We’ll have a party, of course, to welcome the babies. This is all so wonderful.’ She gestures round the square. ‘It’s giving me the best ideas. I know… we could have live storks!’

  I shake my head. ‘I think that’s an amazing idea, Philippa. Whatever you want for the party, you just go ahead and do it. I’m sure I’ll love it all.’ The storks could serve the canapes, for all I care. My party planning days are well and truly over.

  Dad said the right things, but I want to check whether he’s really all right. He shrugs when I ask him. ‘I guess this might change your plans, at least in the short term, but you’ll have your degree in a few weeks and no one can take that away from you. And there’s a lot to be said for having your family when you’re young. I didn’t regret it for a minute. I’m sure you won’t, either.’

  He’s never admitted that Mum was pregnant with me at their wedding. He probably assumes I’d mind. We don’t always give people the credit they deserve.

  It’s late when Daniel’s godfather pulls us aside. ‘I didn’t want to leave this on the gift table without an explanation,’ he says, glancing around the square where the streetlights have come on, bathing the pretty houses in a gentle glow. I can see into the windows of some of them, TVs on, people living their lives. I like to think they’re all as happy as I am tonight.

  He hands a lumpy envelope to Daniel.

  ‘Harold?’ Daniel says, lifting out the keys.

  ‘It’s only a rental for now, but Miriam and I thought it was the best wedding present we could give you. And now under the circumstances…’

  Daniel’s hand goes to my tummy. ‘A flat? Harold, you’ve given us a flat?!’ he says, handing me the keys.

  ‘It’s here!’ I say, reading the key fob.

  Harold smiles. ‘Right there, in fact,’ he says, pointing over our shoulders. ‘It’s vacant now. You can move in whenever you want. Like I said, it’s a rental for six months, but the owner is looking to sell. There’s an amount of money, Daniel, that’s yours. You’d get it anyway as an inheritance. I’d rather you spend it while I’m still around to see you enjoy it. I know how much Emma wants to stay close to her parents, and you obviously like this square so…’ He shrugs. ‘If you don’t like it here, though, you can always find somewhere else. Go have a look. Not many couples get to look at their own wedding reception from their drawing room.’

  Daniel throws his arms round his godfather. ‘I love you, Harold.’

  ‘I love you too, my boy.’

  I’m in a daze as I walk with Daniel across the square. The house has a wrought-iron railing like its neighbours but no flowers outside. I bet Mrs Ishtiaque will know what’ll grow best here. Daniel unlocks the front door. ‘Come here.’ With a heave, he scoops me up. ‘I have to carry my bride over the threshold.’

  ‘But not up the stairs, clearly,’ I say as he sets me down inside the doorway. It’s a narrow hall with stairs running up to the bedrooms and a wide doorway on the left leading through to the lounge. The large bay window (a bay window – my dream!) overlooks the fairy lights of our wedding party. We stand together with our arms round each other listening to the laughter of everyone we love.

  ‘Thank you for coming into my world,’ I tell him. ‘My world here, I mean.’

  He turns me to face him. ‘Emma, darling, please get it through your head. It isn’t about your world or my world. Together we’re making our own world. It doesn’t matter where we’ve come from, or where we live. Only that we’re together.’ He gently rubs my tummy. ‘This is our world now.’

  I look around the darkened lounge. This is our world now.

  ‘You know,’ I say, still staring out the window. ‘Auntie Rose had some very good advice about the wedding night. Involving a quiet place where we can be alone.’

  ‘I don’t hear a sound,’ he says, kissing my neck. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Definitely quiet here.’

  It’s nearly midnight when we all leave the square together to walk Daniel’s side to the Tube and toward taxis. Dad and Hugh are making plans for a Chelsea match – though not when Tottenham are playing – and Mum’s got her arm round Auntie Rose, who’s singing ‘When Irish Eyes Are Smiling’. No one had the heart to cut her off from the sangria. It might be forrin, she says, but it ain’t ’alf bad. Philippa is still collecting compliments from her friends about the wedding and I think I just caught Seb holding Kelly’s hand, but I’ll have to have a debrief later to know for sure. I haven’t told her yet about Harold’s wedding present. I can still hardly believe it myself.

  Now that everyone knows about the twins Daniel won’t stop stroking my tummy. I have the feeling that’s going to get old if he’s still doing it in six months, but for now it feels wonderful.

  ‘That was the best wedding I’ve ever been to,’ I overhear one of Philippa’s friends say as we reach the main road.

  ‘Better than Lugano?’ asks her husband, holding his arm out for an approaching cab.

  ‘Sure. Anyone can have chocolate fountains and speedboats. This was rahly such awfully good fun!’

  The End

  About the Author

  Lilly Bartlett is the pen-name of Sunday Times and USA Today best-selling author, Michele Gorman, who writes best friend-girl power comedies under her own name.

  Michele writes books packed with heart and h
umour, best friends and girl power. Call them beach books, summer reads or chick lit... readers and reviewers call them "feel good", "relatable" and "thought-provoking".

  She is both a Sunday Times and a USA Today bestselling author, raised in the US and living in London. She is very fond of naps, ice cream and Richard Curtis films but objects to spiders and the word "portion".

  If you want to hear about special offers, receive bonus content, find out when Lilly’s books go on sale and even get to read her books before they’re published, then sign up for her newsletter!

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  What’s next for Emma and Daniel? The Second Chance Café in Carlton Square, will be out on June 1st but you can start reading it now!

  © 2017 Michele Gorman

  Chapter 1

  I can’t keep my hand from shaking as I reread the crinkled notice. What a complete load of rubbish! Criminals?! They’re only children, for heaven’s sake. Most of them haven’t even been to court yet. Intimidated grannies? Have you seen the old-timers around here? I wouldn’t fancy my chances against any of them down a dark alley.

  This really is the last straw.

  All publicity might be good publicity but the leaflet that’s been pushed through every letterbox on the square won’t exactly bring the punters in for a cuppa, will it?

  ‘They were up all over the main road too,’ says Lou, chewing on the end of her pale blue hair. She knows it’s not attractive – or hygienic – when she does that, but who can blame her? She’s only worried for me. For all of us.

  ‘You want me to send the lads round to ‘ave a word?’ she asks. ‘You know it’s her behind it.’ She punches her fist into the palm of her hand, like I wouldn’t catch her meaning otherwise. Fat chance of that. Lou’s about as subtle as an armed robbery. The last thing we need now is for her to go over there and prove everyone right.