AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sophie exchanged a glance with Scarlet who simply shrugged her shoulders. Not knowing what else she could do, she pushed the door wider and took a tentative step inside the suite, with Scarlet and Flora close behind.
‘Hello?’ said Sophie, the word dying on her lips. ‘Oh, where’s Lilac?’
‘Upstairs puking in the en suite bathroom,’ snarled Nikki.
‘Oh, erm, poor Lilac. That’s awful.’
‘Yes, yes, it is. But it’s her own fault.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I told her we should have stuck with the manor’s own chef – he’s a TV celebrity, for god’s sake, even has his own cookery book published – but oh, no, Lilac knows best, and she demanded we booked someone she calls her “favourite chef” and his very extensive entourage. We made it absolutely clear when we engaged him that Lilac had an intolerance to shellfish. It was even included as a term in the contract. And what did the moron offer on the tasting menu?’
‘I don’t—’
‘Mini Thai fishcakes! She’d popped one in her mouth before we realised, and now she’s throwing up for England. But that’s not the worst of it – you should see her lips; “bee-sting swollen” doesn’t even cover it! Looks like she’s indulged in a course of extreme Botox, and you know what Lilac’s position is on chemical enhancements.’
‘Oh, that’s awful,’ Scarlet muttered.
‘Finn’s with her and he’s absolutely fuming. And she’s had to cancel her flight across to Croatia tonight, which has set the filming schedule back. Needless to say, the producer’s having a hissy fit, screaming about budget, timescales, the changing light, you name it. And, of course, the chef’s stormed off screaming and swearing that no one told him about any dietary issues, so Tish has another item on her already infinite to-do list – finding a replacement chef who can coordinate the catering for one hundred and fifty discerning guests from the movie and music business in just two weeks. Talk about Mission Impossible!’
Sophie cast a glance over to the full-height windows overlooking the gardens where Tish stood with her phone clutched to her ear, her voice wobbling as she pleaded with the person on the other end to help her. The poor girl looked exhausted and had certainly lost weight since the last time Sophie had seen her. She wondered if this wedding would be the one to finally cure Tish of her hearts-and-flowers obsession.
‘You should have been here when the chef left. It’s been a long time since I heard such a tirade of vibrant language during the working day. The air almost thrummed with verbal electricity, I tell you. Gordon Ramsay, eat your heart out! But Tish stood her ground marvellously. It was a masterclass on how-to-keep-your-temper-when-all-around-you-are-crumbling. She was amazing. To be honest, I didn’t think she had it in her.’
‘What about the hotel’s chef? Can’t he step in?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Nikki sighed. ‘He’s flown over to the States with his wife for her birthday. Apparently they’re visiting her family over there, then heading to New York to see old friends, before taking a vacation in Hawaii as a belated honeymoon.’
‘I see, so—’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt, are you Sophie-Louise?’
Sophie turned to the door of the suite where the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had appeared, scratching at his short, trendy beard. His eyes were so startlingly blue they seemed to draw her towards him and she couldn’t help staring, her jaw gaping unattractively.
‘Yes, that’s me,’ she stuttered.
‘Hi, I’m Finn, it’s good to meet you at last. Lilac’s asked me to come down and fetch you. She’s still tinged with an attractive hue of green, I’m afraid, but she says she’s feeling well enough to stand up in her wedding gown. She wants everything to be just perfect. If you ask me, though, I still say we should’ve grabbed that jet out to Barbados. I know her mother would have killed her, but now it seems her “favourite chef” has got there first.’
‘No problem.’
Sophie scrambled from her chair and dispatched Scarlet to fetch the dress, then followed Finn up to the bedroom suite with Flora scampering in her wake. It was the swiftest and quietest wedding dress fitting Sophie had ever performed, but she was grateful to Lilac for making the effort. She did not look very well at all as she took occasional sips from a glass of tepid water and forced a weak smile onto her swollen lips. They left her to rest as soon as the fitting was done.
‘Let’s hit the bar,’ Scarlet suggested.
‘God, yes, please,’ said Flora, skipping ahead of them down the corridor, clearly keen to reacquaint herself with the hunky photographer. She wrenched open a pair of double doors to the right of the foyer with a flourish. ‘Oops, not in here. Looks like a ballroom.’
The girls peered inside the room. Two men clad in black jeans and Black Sabbath tee-shirts were busy unravelling coils of cable as they worked on setting up what looked like a stage for a disco that evening. A third man was fiddling with the dry-ice machine, sending bulbous clouds of white vapour floating out onto the polished dance floor.
Eventually they found the bar.
Tish gave them a distracted wave of acknowledgement as she hunched over a corner table, her phone still glued to her ear. A huge glass of white wine – more a goldfish bowl, really – rested on a pile of box files in front of her. Nikki was sitting at the bar, laughing at something the wedding photographer was saying. He looked so incongruous sitting amongst the antiques and the Chippendale chairs in his khaki flak jacket, the pockets hopefully filled with a variety of camera lenses rather than grenades.
‘Can I get you ladies a drink?’ Craig offered, standing up to greet them.
‘Oh, yes, please,’ Flora breathed, concentrating her attention on the optics behind the bar before turning to the barman. ‘I’d like a Mai Tai, please. Do you have any of those cute little umbrellas?’
The sides of Craig’s lips twitched, but he said nothing. He raised his eyebrows at Sophie and Scarlet.
