‘Not you,’ Maddy said quickly. ‘Me. I’m spiralling.’
The chef gave a small, understanding nod. ‘Crack on, then.’
‘It’s just a coincidence,’ she tried again, softer this time. ‘It’s just a coincidence.’
A burst of laughter came from the far end of the kitchen. One of the servers was recounting the arch taking flight.
‘—and she just went up with it! Feet off the ground!’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I wish I were. Looked like she was about to elope with it. She’s been sent home.’
‘Is she flying there?’
Unpleasant laughter ensued. Then the storyteller thought better of it. ‘No, but she probably does have a bit of PTSD,’ the man said more quietly.
‘Okay,’ Maddy said to herself, very quietly. ‘Okay. Think.’
Option one: Go back out there. Reset. Try again. Third time’s the charm, everyone laughs, she marries Adam, they eat slightly delayed chicken, and it all becomes a funny story.
Option two: Don’t.
The problem was, she didn’t know whatdon’tlooked like.
Could she really call it off? Right now? Walk out and say, ‘Sorry, everyone, the wind and I have had a discussion, and it’s raised some valid points. Let’s just give up.’
And then there was the other thing.
Maddy pressed her fingers briefly to her lips.Damn. Can’t do with your uncle.
She could still go back out there. Smile. Take Adam’s hands. Very nearly mean it. But the universe had had other ideas, and there was doubt. Real, solid, impossible-to-ignore doubt.
Not about Adam, exactly. About herself. About what she was doing. About why she was doing it. About whether she had been moving forward simply because she’d been pushed.
A tray clattered down beside her, making her jump.
‘Sorry,’ a server said. ‘Didn’t mean to—’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Maddy said quickly. ‘I’m jumpy.’
‘Understandable,’ the server said, glancing at her with something like sympathy. ‘You’ve had a mare of a day.’
Maddy let out a small, breathless laugh. ‘A mare indeed,’ she echoed.
The server hesitated, then added, ‘That Ralph guy is supposed to be on it. I’m sure if you go and find him, he’ll have it sorted by now.’
Maddy nodded slowly, staring at her reflection in a polished metal prep surface, slightly distorted, but recognisable enough. She was not the coiffed bride she’d been at the start of the day. Between falling plaster, vicious winds, and lips, she was kind of a mess.
‘Right,’ she said.
The server lingered for half a second, then moved on.
Maddy stayed where she was.
Forty-Two
Eva was leaning against a far wall in the banquet hall, eyes scanning the room like a general surveying a battlefield with no hope of victory.
