- •I type a full stop, take a sip of coffee, and turn to the second page of the press release.
- •Extract 2
- •Extract 3
- •I should say something. I should say, “Janice, I don’t fancy Tom. He’s too tall and his breath smells.” But how on earth can I say that?
- •Extract 4
- •I’m absolutely stunned. I’ve never seen anything like this at a press conference. Never!
- •I head toward the back to get another cup of coffee, and find Elly standing by the coffee table. Excellent. I haven’t seen Elly for ages.
- •I’m sorry, but I can’t go and sit back down there. I have to hear about this.
- •Extract 5
- •I stare at him blankly.
- •I have never before worked so hard on an article. Never.
- •I can’t do this. I can’t speak to Luke Brandon. My questions are jotted down on a piece of paper in front of me, but as I stare at them, I’m not reading them.
- •I’ll show Alicia, I think fiercely. I’ll show them all, Luke Brandon included. Show them that I, Rebecca Bloomwood, am not a joke.
- •Extract 6
- •Extract 7
- •It’s basically my idea of heaven.
- •I close my eyes and, after a few seconds, feel a cool, creamy liquid being massaged into my face. It’s the most delicious sensation in the world. I could sit here all day.
- •I almost want to laugh at the incongruity of it. What’s she doing here? What’s Alicia Bitch Long-legs doing here, for God’s sake?
- •Is that me? Oh God, I don’t want to be a leading industry expert. I want to go home and watch reruns of The Simpsons.
- •I look around for support and see Rory gazing blankly at me.
- •I watch in a daze as he picks his way across the cable strewn floor toward the exit, half wishing he would look back.
- •Extract 8
- •Extract 2
- •Extract 3
- •Extract 4
- •Extract 5
- •I’ll just have a really quick look.
- •I mean, what is wrong with these people? Are they complete philistines?
- •Extract 6
- •It’s only as we're approaching a department entitled ‘Gift Wrapping’ that I realize what’s going on. When I said ‘gift’, she must have thought I meant it was an actual–
- •I take the card from her, and as I read, my skin starts to prickle with excitement.
- •Extract 7
- •I stare at him, agog.
- •I can’t tell him I’ve actually got three. And two on hold at Barneys.
- •Extract 2
- •I wish bridesmaids got to say something. It wouldn’t have to be anything very much. Just a quick ‘Yes’ or ‘I do’.
- •I’ve always been a teeny bit awkward around Tarquin. But now I see him with Suze – married to Suze – the awkwardness seems to melt away.
- •Extract 3
- •I glance into the mirror, feeling quite grown-up and proud of myself. For once in my life I’m not rushing. I’m not getting overexcited.
- •I remember that cake. The icing was lurid green and the lawnmower was made out of a painted matchbox. You could still see ‘Swan’ through the green.
- •I have never worn anything less flattering in my life.
- •Extract 4
- •Extract 5
- •Extract 6
- •Extract 7
- •I’ll be a grown-up, go along to the cake studio and break the news to her face to face.
- •I had no idea wedding cakes could be anything like this. I flip through, slightly dazedly, looking at cake after spectacular cake.
- •I can see Alicia’s brain working hard.
- •I can see Robyn and Antoine exchanging looks, and I’m dying to ask them what they think of Alicia. But... It wouldn’t be becoming in a bride-to-be.
- •If I’m really honest, hand on heart – I feel exactly like someone who’s going to have a huge, luxurious wedding at the Plaza.
- •I put the invitation into my bag and snap the clasp shut, feeling slightly sick.
- •I look at him, my attention finally caught.
- •Extract 8
- •I stare at him in utter stupefaction. What does he think he’s doing?
- •I stare at him in horror.
- •I follow his gaze, and see Danny’s brother Randall walking across the floor towards us.
- •Extract 9
- •I stare at her, momentarily halted.
- •I stare at the page, my heart pounding. It’s a typed sheet, headed terms of agreement. I look straight down to the dotted line at the bottom – and there’s my signature.
- •I haven’t said a word about anything to Luke. In The Realistic Bride it says the way to stop your fiance getting bored with wedding details is to feed them to him on a need-to-know basis.
- •I feel a stab of shock.
- •Extract 10
- •I put the phone down and smile at Robyn, who’s wearing a bright pink suit and a headset and carrying a walkie-talkie.
- •In fact, it’s completely true. I’m beyond nervous. Either everything goes to plan and this all works out. Or it doesn’t and it’s a complete disaster. There’s not much I can do about it.
- •I’ve never seen a wedding dress like it. It’s a work of art.
- •Extract 11
- •I reach out and hug her tightly.
- •I can't move. I can't breathe. I need my fairy godmothers, quick.
- •I don’t believe it. It’s Luke.
- •Extract 12
- •I feel a huge spasm of nerves as I see the familiar sign. We’re nearly there.
- •I’m getting married. I’m really getting married.
- •I freeze in terror, one foot inside the car. What’s happened? Who’s found out? What do they know?
- •I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.
- •I feel a spasm of nerves inside. Here it comes. The last bit of my plan. The very last cherry on top of the cake.
- •Extract 2
- •Extract 3
- •Extract 4
- •Extract 5
- •Extract 6
- •Extract 7
- •Extract 8
- •Extract 9
- •Extract 10
- •Extract 11
- •I’m fantastically well-organised, basically. And very self-disciplined. The early bird catches the modeling contracts, after all.
- •Extract 13
- •I am such a deluded moron.
- •Extract 2
- •I draw myself up short with a jolt. “I’m sorry,” I say, and exhale sharply. “You don’t want to hear all this.”
- •Extract 3
- •I bet they do.
- •I was so totally mortified, I never told anyone. Especially not Mum and Dad.
- •Extract 4
- •Extract 5
- •I don’t think so.
- •Extract 6
- •Extract 7
- •I watch in total disbelief as Jack settles comfortably down on the rug. He was supposed to be rescuing me from all this. Not joining in. Slowly I sink down beside him.
- •I stare at her blankly. Since when have Kerry and I ever socialized together?
- •Extract 8
- •I am never visiting a zoo again.
- •Revenge is Sweet (by c. Fremlin)
- •It worked like a dream, exactly as she’d planned.
- •The Way up to Heaven (by r. Dahl)
- •For Services Rendered (by j. Deaver)
- •I can help you and you can help me...
- •I can help you and you can help me...
- •Makeover (by b. Callahan)
- •Interrupting her in mid sob, Monty said, “Hold on there, Steph. Gotta pay our bills. Time for a commercial.”
I had no idea wedding cakes could be anything like this. I flip through, slightly dazedly, looking at cake after spectacular cake.
‘If you do not want the traditional tiers, I can make for you a cake to represent something you love. A favourite painting... or a sculpture...’ He looks at me again. ‘A Louis Vuitton trunk, perhaps...’
A Louis Vuitton trunk wedding cake! How cool would that be?
‘Antoine? If you could just come here a moment?’ Robyn pokes her head out of a small meeting room to the right – and although she’s smiling, she sounds pretty harassed.
‘Excuse me, Miss Bloomwood,’ says Antoine apologetically. ‘Davina. Some cake for Miss Bloomwood to taste.’
A smiling assistant disappears through a pair of double doors – then returns with a glass of champagne, a china plate holding two slices of cake and a sugar lily. She hands me a fork and says, ‘This one is passionfruit – mango, strawberry and tangerine mousseline, and this is caramel creme with pistachio and mocha truffle. Enjoy!’
Wow. Each slice is a light sponge, with three different pastel-coloured fillings. I don’t know where to start!
OK... let’s go for mocha truffle.
I put a piece in my mouth and nearly swoon. Now this is what wedding cakes should all be like. Why don’t we have these in England?
I take a few sips of cnampagne, and nibble the sugar lily, which is all yummy and lemony – then take a second piece and munch blissfully, watching a girl nearby as she painstakingly makes a spray of lilies of the valley.
You know, maybe I should get Suze a nice cake for her baby’s christening. I mean, I’ll get a present as well – but I could always buy a cake as a little extra.
‘Do you know how much these cakes are?’ I ask the girl as I polish off the second slice.
‘Well... it really varies,’ she says, looking up. ‘But I guess they start at about a thousand dollars.’
I nearly choke on my champagne. A thousand dollars? They start at a thousand dollars?
For a cake?
I mean, how much have I eaten, just now? That must have been at least fifty dollars’ worth of cake on my plate!
‘Would you like another slice?’ says the girl, and glances at the meeting room. ‘It looks like Antoine is still held up.’
‘Ooh well... why not! And could I try one of those sugar tulips? You know. Just for research purposes.’
‘Sure,’ says the girl pleasantly. ‘Whatever you like.’
She gives me a tulip and a spray of tiny white flowers, and I crunch through them happily, washing them down with champagne.
Then I look idly around, and spy a huge, elaborate flower, yellow and white with minute drops of dew. Wow. That looks yummy. I reach over a display of sugar hearts, pick it up, and it’s almost in my mouth when I hear a yell.
‘Stooooop!’ A guy in whites is pounding across the studio towards me. ‘Don’t eat the jonquil!’
‘Oops!’ I say, stopping just in time. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realize. Is it very special?’
‘It took me three hours to make,’ he says, taking it gently from my hand. ‘No harm done, though.’ He smiles at me, but I notice there’s sweat on his forehead.
Hmm. Maybe I should just stick to the champagne from now on. I take another sip, and am looking around for the bottle, when raised voices start coming from the side room where Robyn and Antoine are closeted.
‘I deed not do this deliberately! Mademoiselle, I do not have a vendetta!’
‘You do! You bloody hate me, don’t you?’ comes a muffled voice.
I can hear Robyn saying something soothing which I can’t make out.
‘It’s just one thing after another!’ The girl’s voice is raised now – and as I hear it clearly, I freeze, glass halfway to my mouth.
I don’t believe it.
It can’t be.
‘This bloody wedding is jinxed!’ she’s exclaiming. ‘Right from the word go, everything’s gone wrong.’
The door swings open and now I can hear her properly.
It is. It’s Alicia.
I feel my whole body stiffen.
‘First the Plaza couldn’t fit us in! Now this fiasco with the cake! And do you know what I just heard?’
‘What?’ says Robyn fearfully.
‘My maid of honour dyed her hair red! She won’t match the others! Of all the bloody inconsiderate, selfish...’
The door is flung open and out stalks Alicia, her stilettos echoing like gunfire on the wooden floor. When she sees me, she stops dead and I look at her, my heart thumping hard.
‘Hi, Alicia,’ I say, forcing myself to sound relaxed. ‘Sorry to hear about your cake. That was delicious, by the way, Antoine.’
‘What?’ says Alicia blankly. Her eyes flash to my engagement ring, to my face, back to my ring, to my shoes, to my bag – taking in my skirt on the way – and finally back to my ring. It’s like the Manhattan Once-over in a hall of mirrors.
‘You're getting married?’ she says at last. ‘To Luke?’
‘Yes.’ I glance nonchalantly at the diamond on my left hand, then smile innocently up at her.
I’m starting to relax now. I’m starting to enjoy this.
(Also, I just gave Alicia the Manhattan Once-over myself. And my ring is a teeny bit bigger than hers. Not that I’m comparing or anything.)
‘How come you didn’t say?’
You didn’t ask, I want to reply, but instead I just give a little shrug.
‘So where are you getting married?’ Alicia’s old supercilious expression is returning and I can see her preparing to pounce.
‘Well... as it happens...’ I clear my throat.
OK, this is the moment. This is the time to make the big announcement. To tell Robyn I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to get married in Oxshott.
‘Actually...’
I take a deep breath. Come on. It’s like Elastoplast. The quicker I do it, the quicker it’ll be over. Just say it.
And I really am on the brink of it – when I make the fatal mistake of glancing up. Alicia’s looking as patronizing and smug as she ever did towards me. Years of feeling stupid and small well up in me like a volcano – and I just can’t help it, I hear my voice saying, ‘Actually, we’re getting married at the Plaza.’
Alicia’s face snaps in shock, like an elastic band.
‘The Plaza? Really?’
‘It should be rather lovely,’ I add casually. ‘Such a beautiful venue, the Plaza. Is that where you’re getting married?’
‘No,’ says Alicia, her chin rather tight. ‘They couldn’t fit us in at such short notice. When did you book?’
‘Oh... a week or two ago,’ I say, and give a vague shrug.
Yes! Yes! Her expression!
‘It’s going to be wonderful,’ puts in Robyn enthusiastically. ‘I spoke to the designer this morning, by the way. He’s ordered two hundred birch trees, and they’re going to send over some samples of pine needles…’