Cupcakes and Confetti

by Jane Linfoot

  ‘Anyone for cake?’ I ask. I’ve forgotten to bring down my emergency supply, but it doesn’t matter, as there’s a mass shaking of perfectly mussed heads, a smoothing of slender thighs, and a loud muttering of the word detox.

  ‘Luckily white wine’s allowed.’ Josie laughs, but as she waggles her glass about, I feel Jess tensing slightly. ‘The thing is,’ Josie begins hesitantly, ‘I wanted to pop in to see the dresses, so I’m prepared for our design meeting next week.’ Josie sends Sera a beguiling smile. ‘I’m worried I’m going to get all indecisive, and this way I’ll be less of a pain in the bum.’ As she puts her glass down again, Jess relaxes visibly.

  ‘So Sera you could begin by showing Josie your ready to wear dresses?’ Jess is prompting here, because Sera is shrinking behind a folding screen, one foot hooked behind her knee, still paralysed by shock. ‘And then you can bring some things down from the studio later.’

  Sera, dodging out of the customers’ view, catches my eye, and gives a two second mime of someone having their throat slit. Showing off and selling her dresses is the part of being a designer she finds hardest, and to be fair, Jess has always handled that side of things for her. I know Sera’s going to have to talk to Josie about designs later on, but for now I take pity on her. She’s only in pieces because Josie appeared out of the blue when Sera wasn’t prepared for her. Who wouldn’t be, when there’s so much at stake?

  Grabbing Sera by the hand, I coax her onto the nearest Louis Quatorze chair. ‘Or, maybe you and Jess can show Josie the dresses, Sera, while I bring down the rest from the studio?’ I suggest, and select the first dress I come to on the rail. ‘Okay, this is one of Sera’s most popular designs this season, she called it Bali after one of her favourite places.’

  ‘That’s so cool, I love beaches too.’ Josie’s already enthusiastic.

  ‘Even on the hanger you can see Sera’s signature flowing lines make her dresses super flattering, and fabulously easy to wear,’ I explain, trying not to gabble. ‘And the lace detail is just so pretty and unusual.’ I hesitate, thinking of my own dress. As I pass the dress to Jess, the silk floats as if it’s almost lighter than air. Josie’s friends look on, their long varnished nails fluttering to their lips.

  ‘Completely gorgeous,’ Josie breathes. ‘Just what I want.’ She turns to her friends. ‘And so different from the jewelled meringue that the media are expecting me to wear. See now why I need Sera to make my dress for me?’

  Sera is chewing her finger nail, but I think she might be smiling too. As I head for the stairs that lead up to her studio, I flash her a thumbs up. ‘I’ll grab anything suitable, are you okay with that?’ I hiss as I pass her, and she gives me a thumbs up in return. ‘Don’t worry, you look lovely, and so do your dresses.’ Poor Sera was planning to have at least a professional make up session before Josie saw her.

  One of the amazing things about wedding dresses is the way they unite the women in a room when they start to look at them. There’s no better ice breaker than a totally beautiful wedding dress, and in Brides by the Sea’s newly arranged Seraphina East room, every dress is stunning. The appreciative hum from below drifts up to the studio as I carefully search through Sera’s works in progress. As the prosecco flows and everyone relaxes, the applause gets louder. When I finally wind my way back down and hand Jess Sera’s dresses from the studio, they’re greeted with more excited squeals.

  ‘This one’s so new it hasn’t even got a name yet,’ Sera admits, still shy.

  Jess deftly flips out the soft tulle skirt, and fingers the delicate lace clinging to the most slender straps ‘Again there’s that same combination of lightness and simplicity mixed with exquisite detail.’

  Josie’s friend with a halo of backcombed hair leans across and touches Josie’s arm. ‘It’s all very well letting one of us model the dresses for you. You sure you aren’t going to try any on?’

  Josie scrunches her face. ‘I’ll work up to that next time. For today I just wanted to see how they looked in reality rather than in pictures.’

  Secretly thinking of my own dress here, I chip in. ‘When you do put on one of Sera’s dresses, you’ll get this strange feeling that you couldn’t possibly be any more beautiful or amazing. They have this kind of magic that you don’t feel in other dresses.’ Not in any of the ones I tried on anyway.

  Sera, now standing again, with her foot propped on the wall behind her, joins in. ‘I think that’s pretty much my entire collection at the moment.’

  Jess holds up a hand. ‘There’s one other dress I’d love you to see … it’s very special, and we’d have to get the owner’s permission …’ Everyone stops talking.

  Sera gives a puzzled frown. ‘Isn’t this everything?’

  Sera might be in the dark, but I know it’s my dress Jess is wanting Josie to see.

  Jess turns to me. ‘What do you think, Poppy?’

  Ignoring that my stomach has just done a triple vault, I try for a brilliant smile, but it comes out like a watery sun. This is Sera’s big break, however much it hurts I need to man up.

  ‘If you get the dress, Jess, I’ll make a call and check it’s okay,’ I say, in a voice that’s much more wobbly than mine.

  Jess claps her hands. ‘Great, give us a moment.’ Before I know it Jess is steering me through the shop, towards the dress store. My legs are acting as if they belong to someone else, and my stomach’s churning. As we come into the White Room, instead of heading for the room where the dresses waiting for collection are kept, Jess detours to her desk.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay with this?’ she asks in an urgent whisper.

  I swallow, trying desperately to keep my lunch down. It’s only a bloody dress after all, it shouldn’t be this hard.

  ‘I’m sorry to do this to you, and it’s fine to say no.’ She fumbles in the drawer as she whispers to me. ‘Josie seems nice enough, but these celebrities are horrendously fickle, and I want to make sure they see enough to make them come back. If they decided not to go ahead and we hadn’t shown them yours, I’d never forgive myself.’

  I get her point. ‘There’s no way I can handle them asking about my wedding.’ I’m blurting now, talking softly and fast, to cover ground. ‘Seeing the dress again will be awful, but so long as they don’t realise it’s mine, I’ll do it for Sera.’ I’m convincing myself here, because my chest feels as if it might be about to implode, but suddenly I know it’s the least I can do. ‘Do it happily.’ I add, as I hug my arms around my ribs.

  Jess scours my face doubtfully, then slams a bottle of Hendricks onto the desk. A moment later, she pushes a shot glass half full of neat gin into my hand. ‘Here, drink this while I get the dress. Knock it straight back, I promise it’ll help.’ She gives a worried grimace as she disappears.

  I brace myself, then do exactly as she says. By the time the empty glass is on the desk Jess is back.

  ‘Good girl.’ She pats my arm with one hand, holding my dress aloft in her other. ‘Don’t look at the dress, forget it has anything to do with you at all.’ She drags in a deep breath. ‘Right. Let’s do this.’

  I’m not sure if it’s down to the rapid intake of the gin, but as I scurry after Jess to join the others, I have no need for the tissue box I’ve grabbed in anticipation of a flood of tears. So much for the dread, instead of breaking down, within seconds I’m gritting my teeth, pretending this dress belongs to someone else entirely. I make sure I keep my eyes averted, and next thing I know I’m sighing and gasping and clapping along with everyone except for Josie. The noise fades as we turn to watch her.

  Josie’s opening and closing her mouth, flapping her hands in front of her face. Under her luminous foundation, her cheeks turn very pink then very pale again. After what seems like forever, a strange whimper comes from her throat. ‘I loved the other dresses, but this one is even more what I’d hoped for, without actually knowing what I wanted, if you know what I mean?’

  Judging by the line of empty bottles on the corsage table, her frie
nds look like they’ve had so much prosecco they probably don’t give a damn if they can understand her or not, but they all nod anyway. Not that I have any room to talk, having knocked back neat gin, but I wonder how they’ll make it out of the shop when they put their six inch heels back on.

  Josie’s biting her lip, welling up. ‘I don’t even need to put it on,’ she murmurs. ‘It’s just like everyone said it would be, I already know, if there was a dress like this that didn’t belong to someone else, it would be “the one”.’

  For the first time Sera’s broad face lights up. ‘I can change the details so yours will be completely special for you. Jess is right,’ she says ruefully. ‘This is one of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever made.’

  ‘That would be lovely.’ Josie sniffs, and I rush forward, turn my back to the dress and offer her the tissue box.

  20

  In Brides by the Sea: Hot dates and brave decisions

  ‘I thought gin was supposed to make you weepy,’ I muse later, as I help Jess with the final tidying.

  ‘That’s when it’s sipped gently,’ Jess says, as she puts the last chair back into place. ‘Inhaled it’s more of an anaesthetic.’

  Which seemed to work, although I was helped by Jess who whisked my dress out of sight afterwards as fast as she’d found it.

  ‘Are you sure you aren’t coming out tonight?’ Jess says, cloth in hand, as she dips down and checks the table tops for wine rings. ‘You can’t possibly hide in the attic on a Friday night with a gem like Jules hot on your trail.’

  Jules the Gem? That’s a good one. However uninvolved I am, after what Jess saw earlier there’s no point in denials. ‘I’ve got a hot date with a guy in Rose Cross.’ I slip it out casually.

  ‘What?’ She’s across the shop in a second.

  That worked well. ‘He’s called George.’ I can’t help enjoy Jess’s widening eyes. ‘Although I admit he’s mostly snoozes through our dates.’

  ‘You kept that quite, but he sounds a long way short of Jules. Who the hell is he?’

  I laugh as I put her out of her misery. ‘George is Cate’s son, he’s three in October.’

  Jess’s exasperated eye roll turns into a thoughtful frown. ‘I was just thinking earlier, given that Jules is a wedding photographer, who would you get to take the pictures if you two actually got married?’

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

  She shakes her head. ‘Valid question, given the way he was looking at you.’

  ‘Now we’ve finished the website, I doubt I’ll see him again until the first Daisy Hill wedding.’ My pulse is racing even as I think about it. The wedding, I mean, not Jules.

  ‘Which is when exactly?’ Jess is straight back at me. The trouble with Jess is her brain never stops.

  ‘Just before Easter.’ Two weeks. Only two short weeks and it’s all got to be ready.

  ‘Take it from me, you’ll see him before then.’ Jess gives a grin, before her brow furrows again. ‘Brave couple doing an outdoor wedding in March. Not only a risk with the weather, but it’s going to be dark so early.’

  ‘Dark?’ I say, and that’s when I have my light bulb moment. ‘Omigod, outdoor lighting! I’ve never even thought about it. Shit!’ I knock my fist on my head. How the hell could I have overlooked something so obvious? ‘Thanks Jess!’ I cry as I make a run for it. More to the point, what else have I forgotten? Adrenalin is coursing through me as I fly upstairs two steps at a time, desperate to get to the lists on my laptop.

  When I arrive, breathless, in my kitchen, I find Jules’ multi coloured scarf draped over the table.

  21

  At Daisy Hill Farm: The day before

  ‘That damned photographer would save us all a lot of time and effort if he surgically attached that bloody scarf of his.’

  This is Rafe, as he storms out of the courtyard, literally tearing at his hair. And yes, he’s ranting about Jules. Again.

  Although he’s making a good point about how careless Jules is with his scarf, the rest of Rafe’s attacks on Jules are less justifiable. To save time and pain, I’ll cut to the chase, and give you the figures from the past two weeks.

  Number of times Jules has left his scarf behind (various locations): 8

  Number of run-ins between Jules and Rafe, started by Rafe: 15

  Number of arguments between me and Rafe about Jules: 17

  Number of other major disagreements between me and Rafe: 24

  Minor disagreements between me and Rafe: lost count.

  Get the idea?

  Immie shakes her head, muttering under her breath as Rafe stomps off. ‘Give me strength.’

  I’m pleased it’s not only me. These guys are driving everyone round the bend. The way it works is, if Jules is around Rafe is invariably there, picking fights right, left and centre. The minute Jules leaves, Rafe is nowhere to be found, which to be honest is not ideal, given I have a hundred things an hour to check with him.

  ‘Come on.’ Immie heads for the driver’s door of the farm jeep. ‘Let’s go and get these lanterns into position, then you can cross that off your list.’

  Remember that light bulb moment I had? The good news is, lighting is under control. Apparently we have a dedicated technical team a.k.a. Geoff and Bob the farmworkers, who are in charge of the generators, outdoor flood lighting and other techie issues. And there’s also a whole load of pretty storm lanterns, which Immie and I are about to put out along the path from the wedding field to the parking area. As for Immie, she’s totally got my back here, even if her Land Rover driving does leave a lot to be desired.

  ‘That blue and white striped marquee looks so beautiful doesn’t it?’ My knuckles are white from clinging onto the door handle as we roar up the lane, and she does a handbrake turn through the gateway, and the vehicle skids sideways into the wedding field. I know what you’re thinking, but if I tell her to slow down, it’ll only make her worse. Instead I give a little cough and a reminder.

  ‘We’re trying not to mess up the grass, remember?’

  Immie ignores that, and instead throws the door open. She leaps to the ground, mallet in hand. ‘Right, I’ll bang in the stakes, you secure the lanterns.’ She gives a nod towards the marquee, where people are running in and out to cars and vans parked nearby. ‘You see, there was no need to worry, I told you it would all appear like magic, and it has.’

  Magic? Two days of hard graft by the marquee guys more like, but at least it’s here, along with a luxury tow-along toilet block that’s nestling discretely behind the hedge. Would you believe, it’s got marble clad cubicles, and real flowers next to the wash basins? And right now there’s an army of people hurrying in and out of the marquee, carrying boxes from the cars and vans clustered near the entrance.

  ‘The tables and chairs all went in this morning, and now Lara and Ben are doing their own flowers and styling,’ I’m giving a running commentary, although Immie probably knows this already, given that she’s been here a lot.

  ‘Lots of friends to help I see, some of them damned good looking too.’ Immie grins, as a hunk in a vest strides past, balancing a substantial tree in a large pot on one muscular forearm. She turns, mesmerised, as he eases the branches decked with lemon ribbons past the awning supports, then she gives an appreciative nod. ‘That’s my kind of removal man.’

  Maybe Rafe is right when he says Immie is ready for a guy.

  She’s peering after this one, as he disappears into the marquee. ‘I’m seeing lots of twigs and daffodils and bunting, is there a spring theme?’

  ‘The bridesmaids are in yellow,’ I say, knowing how Immie will react to this.

  She grimaces. ‘Jeez, poor girls, yellow’s even worse than peach.’ Even now she still hasn’t grasped the concept of nude as a colour.

  ‘But the theme’s more Easter Bunny, because Lara’s house rabbits are coming too,’ I add. It’s the first time I heard of a wedding with bunnies, but it sounds fun.

  ‘Plenty of hay bales to keep the
rabbits happy.’ Immie says absently, obviously concentrating on the tree man.

  At least when it came to hay, Rafe didn’t hold back, and using bales as seats has saved Ben and Lara a fortune too.

  Immie gives a shiver, frowning as she pulls her jacket zip higher. ‘It’s a bit cold for an outdoor wedding though.’

  ‘It’s tropical in there with the blower heaters. The muscle men haven’t just stripped off for your benefit.’ I send her a wink, and glance at my watch. ‘If you can tear yourself away from talent spotting, shall we get on?’

  Reluctantly she turns. ‘Great to hear you make a joke at last.’ As she pats me on the back, and she grabs an armful of stakes she gives me a hard stare. ‘I was worried the stress was getting to you?’

  She’s not wrong about that. I’ve been waking earlier and earlier, my brain buzzing with lists.

  ‘I’ve been scared for weeks, but now it’s happening I’m shitting myself.’ I drag in a deep breath. ‘Being responsible for something as important as a wedding is huge.’ A whole wedding is so much more than just a cake, which is what I’m used to delivering. As it is, I’m starting to understand why Rafe might not want to do weddings. It’s fine if things go well, but the potential for disaster is immense. It would be so horrible to disappoint people on their special day. A couple only get married once, the day is so major, and there’s no such thing as a second chance. I’m clenching my teeth, and my arms are going rigid as I think about it.

  ‘Hey, lighten up.’ Immie gives me a nudge. ‘This time tomorrow it’ll almost be over.’

  ‘No, this time tomorrow, it’ll have barely begun,’ I wail.

  ‘You’ve done brilliantly so far, and we’ll all have your back.’ Immie doesn’t do soothing, but she’s making a good job of it now. ‘Even Cate’s taking a day off to help.’ She gives a chuckle. ‘Which is only right, seeing as she’s the one who landed you in this shit.’