“So there really is no point…” As Mum flicked through the pages, it was clear I was talking to myself.
“How’re you fixed for next Friday?”
Throwing my arms in the air, I looked to Leo for assistance, but none was forthcoming and I wondered why I’d listened to him in the first place regarding Mum’s involvement. As usual, he seemed happy to go with the flow. I turned my attention to the others. But with Dad shrugging sympathetically, Ryan struggling to contain his amusement, and Sal giving me one of her ‘I told you so’ looks, it seemed I was on my own.
“Well?” my mother said, eager for an answer.
I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. When it came to reining in my mother’s matrimonial fervour, it seemed I was, indeed, back to square one.
Chapter 15
Friday arrived far too quickly. All blue skies and sunshine, it was a gorgeous, bright spring day and would have been perfect for spending it at home, in my workshop, with the door wide open so I could breathe in the scent of the garden while I worked. The whole area around the cottage was starting to come to life.
Thanks to Leo’s hard labour, there was an array of flora and fauna to enjoy. Butterflies danced and bees buzzed from one colourful profusion to another. Roses, foxgloves, daisies, and violets mingled with berry and fruit trees, sage, lavender, and thyme; the latter planted for their use as much as their aesthetic value.
Then again, I also had a wedding to arrange and with everything yet to properly organise, I supposed it was time to start getting on with it and having collected Sal, as I concentrated on the road, she sat, arms folded and head back, in the passenger seat. She let out a long yawn and glancing her way, her sunglasses didn’t fool me; I knew my sister’s eyes were closed. “Late night?” I asked.
“You could say that. I had a giant birthday cake to finish. The client’s collecting it this morning. Days earlier than planned.”
“Don’t you need to be there?”
“Ryan can handle it.” She turned her head to look at me. “This is way more important.”
I scoffed. “Is that you speaking? Or Mum?”
“Mum. She insisted I come.” Sal smiled. “Apparently, it’s my duty as matron of honour.”
“Why do you think she keeps doing these things? It’s not like I haven’t asked her to stop. She’s like a bridezilla without being the bride.”
“Maybe she meant what she said and just wants the best for you?”
As much as I wanted to believe that, I still wasn’t sure. “You think?”
“As well as to outdo the local celebrity.”
I flicked on the car indicator and, slowing to make my turn, brought the car to a standstill on Mum and Dad’s driveway. Sitting in silence, Sal and I stared up at the house. The huge semi-detached looked the same as it had always done – grand, imposing, and covered in far too much ivy.
Blocking out the sun, the property cast an enormous shadow straight over us. I dreaded what I was about to be met with. Mum might nod in all the right places when it came to accepting the fact that Leo and I were having a small wedding, but her actions continued to show she had the opposite in mind.
“I still don’t understand why she wants us both here,” my sister said. “It’s not like I’m an expert on wedding dresses.”
“Well I, for one, am glad you’ve come,” I said. “I need the reinforcements. No matter what I say, nothing seems to stop the woman. She says she gets it, then steamrolls right over me.”
I recalled my last visit to Mum’s house, when she and Wendy, the wedding planner, had been lying in wait. I wouldn’t have put it past Mum to pull a similar stunt and I began to feel a mix of nerves and irritation as I pictured her and some wedding boutique owner standing proud in the living room next to a rail of white and ivory gowns. Instead of Mum’s best crockery, I saw an ice bucket, home to a bottle of the best champagne, and a tray of canapés rather than a plate of posh biscuits.
“It’s your duty to protect me,” I said, like Mum had done, pulling the matron of honour card. I looked around, glad to find my immediate surroundings devoid of little white vans with names likeWedding BellesandForevermore Frocksplastered across their sides. I turned off the engine and pulled the key out of the ignition.
“I don’t get the need for a discussion to start with,” Sal said. “It would’ve been much more fun to meet at the bridal shop. At least there you get to try dresses on.” My sister turned to look at me, a mischievous smile appearing on her lips. “Unless she’s done another mood board? Because that I’d love to see.” Sal came over all animated. “I can already picture it.” She held up her hands. “A massive collage of lace and silk and embroidery.”
“Then she’ll have wasted her time. Lace and embroidery are far too fussy for me. Besides, I already know the kind of dress I want. And it’s not the Louise Patterson knock-off Mum has in mind.”
Sal looked at me aghast. “Since when? I thought that was just an excuse to get Mum off your back.”
“Since it came to me in a dream.”
“And you think Mum’s batty.”
Ignoring my sister’s quip, I reached down into the passenger footwell for my bag and pulled out my sketchpad. Excitement enveloped me as I turned the pages until I found what I was looking for. Eager to share my imagined design, I handed the whole thing over.
