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‘I’d love to see where your wedding ceremony is being held?’
‘Oh, Millie, you’ll love it. It’s just the most romantic place to get married. Come on. Then, I’ll show you the Hummingbird Suite where we’re having our reception. Would you like to join us, Ella?’
‘No thank you, dear. I think I’ll just sit here with Julia and Karen and admire the view.’
The waiter popped the cork and poured three glasses of Champagne, handing one crystal flute to each woman with a theatrical flourish.
‘Perhaps you could bring another bottle, George,’ said Julia, settling in for a gossip with Ella about the exhausting search she’d endured in the boutiques of London for mother-of-the-bride outfits suitable for a Caribbean wedding.
Imogen rolled her eyes at her mother and led Millie down the steps of the bar and onto the pristine lawns to the front of the hotel. Every single one of the garden’s borders was filled with a profusion of multi-coloured flowers, from scarlet to cerise, from vermillion to salmon-pink, and there was not a weed in sight.
‘These flowers are so pretty,’ said Millie.
‘I agree. I spoke to one of the gardeners when we arrived and he told me that the hotel is blessed with fertile volcanic soil which means that even if you stick a wooden pole in the ground it will sprout leaves,’ Imogen laughed. ‘Here we are. What do you think?’
Looming in front of them like a wedding cake fashioned from white wrought iron and filigree, was the most perfect garden gazebo – an absolutely stunning location in which to exchange wedding vows. Millie expected to be transported back to her own debacle of an engagement party when her fiancé-to-be had failed to do her the courtesy of turning up, but she was surprised to find that the turmoil of emotions did not materialise. It was a revelation that made her smile.
‘It is just the most amazing place. Sunday is going to be fabulous.’
‘Thanks, Millie. I hope so. Mum’s still anxious about the bouquets and posies not arriving in time. I think we’ll be sorted in time for Sunday, but it definitely hasn’t been the smooth, relaxed, tranquil experience she had been expecting. Nevertheless, one good thing has come out of it. Mum and Brad are like a pair of lovebirds and I’m so happy for her. It’s about time she enjoyed a bit of romance.’
‘St Lucia seems to have that effect on people,’ thought Millie, not realising before it was too late that she had actually said the words out loud.
‘What do you mean?’ Imogen narrowed her eyes in curiosity.
‘Oh, nothing. Weren’t you going to show me the Hummingbird Suite?’
‘Yes. Oh, you’re going to love it, too! The walls have been hand-painted with beautiful hummingbirds sitting in tropical foliage and the floral arrangements for the tables were supposed to be Birds-of-Paradise set in these amazing tall, slender glass vases. Mum hasn’t been able to source them, so I’m not sure what we’ll end up with.’
They had arrived in the corridor leading to the Hummingbird Suite. Despite the whole building having been taken over by Imogen and Alex’s wedding guests, the hotel felt deserted. Apart from a lone gardener mowing the already pristine lawn next to the gazebo, Millie hadn’t seen any other staff. Maybe the whole ethos of the place was that guests should feel as though they were visiting a friend’s home rather than staying in a hotel – that’s how she felt.
As they made their way towards the double doors, Millie’s sandals click-clacked on the shiny wooden flooring like a pair of castanets. It was much cooler inside, with the air conditioning working overtime, causing goose pimples to ripple along her forearms.
‘Okay. Ready to be amazed?’
‘I am.’
Imogen grasped the brass handle and went to push the door open with a flourish, but it didn’t budge.
‘Oh, it’s locked. That’s strange. It wasn’t locked when me and Mum came to check on the place settings earlier this morning.’ Imogen gave the handle another wiggle for good measure and sighed.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Millie, seeing the disappointment on Imogen’s face. ‘I’m sure it looks fantastic. I’ll look forward to seeing the photographs on Facebook and Instagram.’
‘No. I’d really like your opinion on the layout of the top table. You’ve got a real sense of style, Millie, but I’m sure you’re told that all the time.’
‘Really?’
Millie was about to utter a self-deprecating contradiction but stopped herself. It was about time she learned to have the confidence to accept compliments and to have more conviction in her own abilities.
‘Come on. Let’s find Jerome and ask him to open the doors.’
Imogen spun on her stilettos and marched off back down the corridor. They didn’t have to search too hard to find the hotel manager who was chatting to Greg and Carla on the pool terrace. Handsome enough to take the leading role in a Hollywood romcom, Jerome was clearly a man comfortable in his designer suit and starched collar despite the humidity. Millie caught a whiff of his expensive aftershave as he turned to welcome her to the hotel.
‘Hi Jerome. Can you unlock the Hummingbird Suite, please? I want to show Millie the table layout. I’m still not convinced about where the top table is.’
‘Unlock it? But we never lock the doors to the Suite.’ Jerome’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
‘Well, they are definitely locked now. We’ve just come from there.’
