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‘Of course, the build-up is super stressful, there’s so much to think about. Tomorrow all the tedious wedmin stress will be over, and you can relax and enjoy yourself. Then in two days’ time you’ll be in Ibiza, in that luxury hotel, with a honeymoon suite bigger than my apartment, and you and Josh will have plenty of time to make up for him being stuck in Singapore all month.’ Clara turned to raise an eyebrow at Audrey. ‘And I’ll be sitting in London traffic, doing the nursery drop-off, my flat white from Pret the highlight of my morning.’ Clara reached out a hand to squeeze her friend’s knee. ‘You’re marrying Josh, how can it be anything but wonderful?’
Audrey mustered a smile, knitting her hands together in her lap and then turning to look out of the window. Clara was right, a few pre-wedding jitters were entirely normal. She was missing her dad, she was intimidated by the size of the church and the sheer number of guests that were coming tomorrow, and now with Benedict’s name jumping into her inbox – it was no wonder she felt a little on edge. As long as nothing else happened to freak her out, she would be fine.
Audrey and Clara were first to arrive at the Red Lion pub. They found the private dining room already decorated and laid for dinner. The pub’s red walls were covered in dark oil paintings depicting gory hunting scenes. Antique brass pint jugs hung from pegs along the low oak beams, and the dining chairs were lined with green and yellow tartan. Suffice to say, the decor of the pub didn’t blend especially well with the pastel tones of the pink and lilac floral centrepiece and heart-shaped confetti that had been strewn across the table.
‘Did the pub do this?’ Clara asked.
‘Debbie must have been here this afternoon,’ said Audrey, making a mental note to thank her mother-in-law-to-be for all the effort.
‘Good old Debs.’ Clara sighed, picking up one of the lilac napkins with A&J embroidered in cursive writing. ‘It looks like Valentine’s Day threw up in here. I think what we need is two strong gin and tonics.’
‘Vivien suggested a no spirits rule tonight, and a firm no seafood policy,’ Audrey said.
‘Fuck Vivien.’ Clara laughed. ‘I’m baby-free for the first time in months – wine is not going to cut it. And I’m definitely drinking tonight because I don’t have to breastfeed for twenty-four hours.’
‘I think I’m going to save myself for tomorrow.’ Audrey agreed with her mother on this one. She knew it was easy to get carried away, especially when she was with Clara and Hillary. It would be silly if she couldn’t enjoy the day tomorrow because she had a hangover.
The rest of the wedding party soon arrived from the church. There wasn’t space for people to stand around and chat, so everyone promptly took their seats. They were to be twelve in total, everyone from the church, plus Josh’s sister Miranda and her date, whom Josh was collecting from the station.
‘The London train was delayed,’ Debbie announced to the room as she passed around the bread basket. ‘Josh is on his way but said to go ahead and order or we’ll miss our window with the kitchen. We must get our order in before that big group who’ve just arrived in the bar area. Does everyone know what they’re having?’
No one knew what they were having. Everyone was too busy listening to Hillary tell an amusing story about the time he accidentally stole Michael Gambon’s shoes. Audrey had heard this particular story numerous times before and noted it had gained several embellishments. Michael Gambon had not gone so far as to chase Hillary down Shaftesbury Avenue wearing only a towel last time.
‘Sean Bean is from Yorkshire, you know,’ Granny Parker announced to the table.
‘I think the story was about Michael Gambon, Mum,’ Josh’s father said, patting his mother’s arm.
‘I know, and my story was about Sean Bean,’ Granny Parker said crossly, removing her arm from beneath his.
By the time everyone had got around to consulting the menus, of which there were only one between two, much to Vivien’s chagrin, in walked Josh with the party from the train. At the exact moment they arrived, Audrey was coming back from the loo, and from the corridor, she was able to see the new arrivals standing by the door before they noticed her. The brass-rimmed clock on the wall told her it was eight minutes past eight when she felt her heart jump into her throat and her legs go soft beneath her. For there, standing beside Josh’s sister, was a face she recognised. It was a face she had not seen in six years, and one she had thought she would never see again.
