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Sophie smiled as she covertly surveyed the packed congregation, keen to commit every detail to her memory for future extraction over the promised bottle of chilled Prosecco with Nessa and Delia later that day. Everyone exuded an aura of joy and delight at the ceremony they had been honoured to witness in the most grandiose splendour, but mostly of happiness at the sheer bliss that blazed from the happy couple. It was clear to all how much they loved each other, and Sophie sent up a prayer to the director of their fates that the marriage would be blessed with longevity and good fortune. She added a postscript to her prayer to include her parents and her Aunt Claire and swallowed down hard on her emotions. It wouldn’t do to cry so early on in the proceedings.
As she lowered her eyes from the soaring arches of the ceiling, her heart jolted sharply upwards into her mouth. There, standing a head taller than most of the wedding party, was Noah, looking spectacular in his immaculate grey morning suit and lilac cravat. The shock of seeing him spliced down through her chest, sending shock waves out to her fingertips.
Why hadn’t she realised he’d be here?
He and Finn had been at uni together and, eight years later, they were still such firm friends that Finn had chosen him as an usher for his wedding. It made perfect sense, but it had still come as a complete shock.
She offered him a smile and he nodded an acknowledgement, his lips twitching to produce those familiar dimples she loved. Wow, he was gorgeous. She held his eyes and a moment of crystal-clear clarity struck. Having just watched Lilac and Finn declare their love to each other and exchange their emotional vows in the presence of their closest family and friends, she realised she could never imagine standing at the altar of any church, large or small, with anyone else but Noah by her side.
Who was she kidding?
She loved the guy, adored him. There had never been anyone else for her. She’d handed her heart to him a long time ago and he’d never given it back. And yet she was grateful for the time they had spent apart. She had been able to use those years to apply herself single-mindedly to pursuing her dreams, to securing Sophie-Louise Bridal’s future, to learning who she was and understanding her place in the world. She had neglected her relationship with Noah, underestimated the importance of spending quality time together in order to fan the flames of their partnership – was it any wonder he’d succumbed to the comfort of an embrace from a willing fan after a few bottles of champagne?
She looked away, her thoughts cascading through their joint history. She knew everything about Noah, and he knew everything about her. Every childhood memory was in some way tied up with him – and his band The Razorclaws. Noah, Archie, Serge, Rick and Danny – she loved them all – but mostly she loved Noah, and she had to tell him that.
The church organist chose that moment to launch into an exuberant rendition of the wedding recessional. Sophie tipped her head back to prevent her tears from falling, but also to say thank you directly to those who were absent from her life through no fault of her own.
She had to allow her heart to take centre stage for once.
It was time to stop running from her feelings and embrace them instead.
Chapter Thirty Two
‘Oh, my God, my feet are killing me,’ Scarlet announced, removing her ivory silk stilettos and massaging her toes as they strolled round the manicured gardens of Somersby Manor to grab a breath of fresh air.
The reception was over and, as expected, the speeches had entertained the wedding party for over an hour, with howls of laughter and ahh’s of delight as the happy couple’s family and friends celebrated their union with crystal flutes of champagne and chorused their congratulations every five minutes.
Tom and a specially selected team of his friends and former colleagues from Betty’s had worked miracles with the food, slaving in the kitchens for the last week to produce an exquisite gastronomic feast with a Gloucestershire twist that would have impressed the judges ofMasterChef. Of course, there had been locally sourced organic vegetables to accompany the heart-shaped Chateaubriand, but the guests were a little bemused by the tower of tiny Bath buns oozing cream and raspberry jus.
However, as predicted by Lilac, the cupcake pyramids were sparkling masterpieces of culinary artistry that put the expensive five-tier wedding cake to the back of the class. It wasn’t just the children who were licking the icing and edible glitter from their lips and fingertips.
Sophie plonked her aching bones onto a stone bench in the Italianate-style garden and allowed her shoulders to sag. ‘Did I tell you Tom and Marcia are officially an item?’
‘You didn’t have to – it’s obvious.’
Sophie smiled as she recalled her brief visit to the kitchen to offer Tom her congratulations on pulling off the best wedding breakfast she’d ever had. Marcia had, of course, been there organising and directing operations with the assistance of her arch-lever file crammed with laminated recipe cards and lists of instructions and timings.
‘Tom’s arranged afternoon tea at Betty’s as a treat for helping out!’ Marcia had said, flushed with pleasure. ‘He’s promised the best table in the house for me, Mum and Delia. Oooo, I’ve always wanted to do a proper “afternoon tea”. I’m so pleased for him, Sophie, and it’s all thanks to you. When he got that call from Tish, well, I think he’s still coming to terms with the shock, but he’s ecstatic – look at him, he’s in his element with all his friends around him again. He’s thinking of asking one of them to help him out at the bakery so he can go back to Betty’s part-time in a development role. He has so many ideas for new products – the creativity is bursting from him! I know he’ll be a small cog in a huge wheel there, but it’s what he’s dreamed of for years! Even his dad approves, he’s so proud of him being in charge of the catering for a celebrity wedding. He and all the residents of Cranbury Care Home promised to be glued to the TV today. Tom even delivered one of his cupcake pyramids to them at five this morning.’
‘He deserves this opportunity, Marcia,’ Sophie said. ‘He’s a talented chef.’
‘I’ve volunteered to lend a hand in the bakery, too. Not on the baking side, of course, but serving behind the counter so Tom can concentrate his afternoons on the experiments and designs.I’ve taken a photograph of every cupcake on that pyramid, and I intend to print it out and file it along with the recipe in a binder – that way his assistant can easily replicate the technique.’
Sophie smiled – Marcia’s dedication to organisation knew no bounds.
‘My favourites are the mango and mint julep pyramids and the lavender-infused macarons topped with a tiny lilac flower made from angelica.’ She paused, shot a glance to the other end of the kitchen where Tom was laughing with one of his chef friends looking relaxed and content, and lowered her voice. ‘Tom asked me to be with him when the fireworks start later on. He says he has something important to ask me.’
Happiness infused Sophie’s heart at the burgeoning spirit and confidence exhibited by Marcia as well as her developing relationship with Tom, who, as far as Sophie knew, was her first serious boyfriend. The first kindling of a new love was a joy to see. She was so pleased for them both.
Sophie smiled at Scarlet who was still rubbing her toes, the spectacular fascinator Marco had made for her bobbling precariously on her head. She was relieved that her job here at the manor was now done. She had tried to make a discreet exit after the ceremony, but Lilac had seen her heading for her car and had insisted she wanted both herandScarlet to be at the manor to make sure her gown looked fabulous in the photographs Craig was anxious to take in the opulently furnished rooms of the stately home. However, in return, Lilac had agreed that, if they didn’t want to stay for the evening reception, they had her blessing to leave after the speeches. Scarlet had looked scandalised at such a suggestion.
‘Come on, we’d better get back.’ Scarlet linked her arm firmly through Sophie’s. ‘You’ll thank me later, but I’m not letting you leave. I can’t allow you to miss hearing Noah’s performance ofthe song he’s written especially for Lilac and Finn’s wedding. It’s going to be something to tell your grandchildren about when you’re in your bath chair!’
Sophie knew her objections would be wasted so she plastered a smile on her face and went willingly with Scarlet to the ballroom. The Razorclaws played to an ecstatic audience already sated by good food and vintage champagne. The roof was nearly raised from its rafters when Finn stepped onto the makeshift stage and joined Noah at the microphone to perform the ballad as a duet. Whilst Finn sang every heartfelt lyric to his new bride, Noah was looking in a different direction as he sang every word straight from his heart.
Immediately after the brief musical interlude, as the temperature rose to sweltering, the whole of the wedding party retired to the terrace outside to await Lilac and Finn’s appearance on the carved stone balcony overlooking Somersby Manor’s formal gardens. They greeted the crowd of family and friends with waves and shared kisses as a storm of flashbulbs erupted from a coterie of amateur photographers jostling for the gift ofthephotograph that might possibly grace the front pages and glossy magazine covers for months to come.
Lilac had discarded her veil and tiara. Her hair, the colour of liquid caramel, tumbled in loose waves to her shoulders and her eyes sparkled as she giggled with her new husband in front of the cheering crowd. To complete her evening outfit, she had draped an ice white, knitted angora bolero jacket around her shoulders, and under the rose-tinted floodlights the tiny crystals sewn into the yarn shimmered and glistened.
