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twenty-four hours before the wedding
chapter 05
alex
Lottie upends my expectations and performs perfectly at the wedding rehearsal, which makes me fear for tomorrow. Her genius is in the art of bait-and-switch.
Marc and Sian run through their vows three times before the blushing bride is satisfied. The young bridesmaids fidget on their gilt chairs, clearly bored, nudging each other in the ribs and pulling faces. Only Lottie behaves, hands folded primly in her lap. It’s a bad sign.
Finally Sian is happy, and she and Marc process back down the sandy aisle.
Zealy and Catherine corral the bridesmaids and they all fall into step behind Marc and Sian, with Lottie bringing up the rear.
As soon as the bridal party reaches the gate from the beach to the private courtyard by the hotel pool, where the reception will take place, the five little girls break ranks and hurtle towards their parents.
Lottie crashes into my legs, glowing with pride.
‘Did I do good, Mummy?’
‘You were perfect,’ I say, ruffling her curls and trying not to sound too surprised. ‘I hope you’ll be just like that tomorrow. I won’t be with you, so I’m trusting you, Lottie. Best behaviour.’
‘Where will you be?’
‘Just behind you, over there.’ I point to my reserved seat a couple of rows behind the bridesmaids’ chairs, along with the other parents. ‘I’ll see you as soon as we get back to the party at the hotel.’
‘Just follow me, Lottie, and stay with the other girls,’ Zealy says, as she joins us. ‘Mummy will be right behind you, with everyone else.’
‘Whatever,’ Lottie says.
‘Lottie,’ I say.
‘I don’t envy you the teenage years,’ Zealy says.
Lottie tugs on my arm. ‘Can I have some ice-cream now?’
‘MayI. After dinner.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘You said I could haveas much ice-cream as I wantedif I behaved.’
She has me over a barrel, and she knows it.
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘But you’d better eat all your dinner, Lottie.’
We leave the courtyard and pass through the Palm Court dining room, where a long table has been set up for the rehearsal dinner, then into the main hotel lobby. There’s a small shop near the entrance selling the usual tourist tat: postcards, T-shirts, shot glasses bearing the name of the hotel. It has an ice-cream freezer Lottie scoped out as soon as we came downstairs this morning.
I lift her up to the freezer so she can pick out what she wants. She selects an ice-cream cookie the size of a wheel and Zealy and I sit on a bench in the lobby while she eats it.
By the time she’s finished, and I’ve cleaned her face and sticky fingers, the rest of the wedding party has assembled in the Palm Court for dinner.
We take the last three free seats at the crowded table next to Marc. Lottie immediately grabs both her bread roll and mine, devouring them in a couple of greedy bites.
‘Where does sheputit all?’ Zealy asks, as Lottie reaches down the table to help herself to Zealy’s roll.
‘She’ll eat herself sick just to spite me,’ I say.
Marc’s college roommate and best man, Paul Harding, leans across the table and gives Lottie his own roll.
‘I like a girl with an appetite,’ he says, giving her a wink. ‘I’m always hungry at weddings, too. They never feed you properly.’
