The Big Little Wedding in Carlton Square: A gorgeously heartwarming romance and one of the top summer holiday reads for women. Michele Gorman

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу The Big Little Wedding in Carlton Square: A gorgeously heartwarming romance and one of the top summer holiday reads for women - Michele Gorman страница 15

The Big Little Wedding in Carlton Square: A gorgeously heartwarming romance and one of the top summer holiday reads for women - Michele  Gorman

Скачать книгу

and groomsmen now, yeah?’ Uncle Barbara asks us. ‘They need some warning, you know. And you need time to find outfits. Once that’s set, everything else can work around them.’

      Of course he’d know all about it. I don’t often think of him that way, but when he was Uncle Mark he was married. His wife took off with their two boys after finding him in one of her frocks. They moved away up north, and it’s only in the past few years that his sons have even started talking to him. He goes up every few months, and I have to give him credit for that because it doesn’t sound like it usually goes very well.

      ‘Kelly’s my bridesmaid,’ I tell him, ‘and Daniel’s sister and one of his best friends.’

      ‘And my flatmate, Jacob, will be my best man, along with three of my school chums as my groomsmen,’ Daniel adds. ‘It’s going to be an awful lot of fun!’

      ‘An awful lot!’ croaks June as smirks dash round the table. I can tell they’re not making fun of Daniel. Only his odd figures of speech. I can’t blame them. He does talk like Bertie Wooster sometimes.

      ‘You’ll need another bridesmaid, Emma,’ Uncle Barbara says. ‘It’s bad luck to have an odd number. We had three at my wedding and look what happened.’

      ‘It made you queer,’ Auntie Rose chips in. ‘Only joking. I know the difference between a queer and a trannie.’

      But not the difference between being offensive and not, clearly. ‘Mum,’ I shout over to their table. ‘How many bridesmaids did you have?’

      ‘Four,’ she says. ‘Why?’ She gasps, throwing her hands over her mouth. ‘Have you got only three? Oh no, Emma! You’re doooomed.’

      ‘You’re all taking the piss,’ I say. ‘Hilarious.’

      ‘It does look better for photos to have an even number on each side, though,’ Uncle Barbara points out. ‘If you’re looking for another, I’d be willing to step in.’

      He sounds jokey, but he’s blushing under his beard.

      Aside from my parents, Uncle Barbara is my closest relative under seventy and I’d love for him to be one of my bridesmaids, but can you imagine the looks on my new in-laws’ faces seeing him come up the aisle? ‘Thanks, Uncle Barbara, I’ll let you know, okay?’

      ‘Just don’t wait too long, like I said. I’d have to get me dress. And shoes, accessories …’

      ‘There is such a lot to think about,’ Daniel says, turning to me. ‘So many decisions to make. How would you feel about chocolate?’

      ‘I’m all for it!’ Auntie Rose says.

      ‘Is this another question like your mother’s about fish? You’re not going to suggest making the entire reception out of seventy per cent dark, are you, or have a Kinder vicar filled with toys?’

      He laughs. ‘Mummy mentioned a chocolate fountain, that’s all. Guests can dip fruit in it. She thinks it will be such great fun.’

      Of course she does. She’ll probably want fruit that has to be airlifted in individually by private jet and chocolate sourced from some remote Aztec civilisation and made with leprechaun’s tears.

      ‘Mmm, maybe.’ The reception would look like there’d been a massacre at Willy Wonka’s factory five minutes after this lot gets into a chocolate fountain. ‘Let’s see where we find for the reception first.’

      Daniel grimaces. ‘Right, it’s just that she’s got an image of the wedding in her head now,’ he says. ‘Of course we’ll do what we want. It is our wedding. It’s only that I wouldn’t want to disappoint her if we don’t use any of her ideas.’

      ‘The last thing I want is a disappointed mother-in-law, so of course we’ll use some,’ I say. Just don’t ask me how.

      The pub has thinned out by the time Kelly nudges me later. ‘The prawn man’s here.’

      ‘Told you we’d eat,’ I say to Daniel, who can’t take the grin off his face. ‘What is it?’

      ‘I’ve read about them,’ he says.

      ‘What, prawns? They swim in the sea.’

      ‘You sometimes eat ’em with Marie Rose sauce,’ Kell adds.

      ‘Cockle men,’ he says. ‘Or prawn men. I didn’t think they were real.’

      ‘Aw, bless, he looks like he’s seen a unicorn,’ Kell says, waving the man over.

      ‘All right?’ the prawn man asks, tipping his basket of seafood toward us so we can have a look. We politely glance into the basket even though he always sells the same things. He’s getting on a bit now and I’ve been eating his prawns since I was a little girl in here with Mum and Dad. He never says more than he has to. He just tips his cap as he goes from table to table, passing out snacks and collecting money.

      We get three pints of prawns, which we demolish in about a minute. As I watch Daniel go to the bar to get his round in for us all, I get a little misty watching everyone’s smiling faces. That’s my fiancé, the most popular toff in East London.

       Chapter 4

      The window of the chic Sloane Square shop only has two dresses in it, and I can’t see myself wearing either of them. Philippa and Abby are already inside, though, waving me in, so I can’t just leave. Steeling myself, I crash into the glass door as I push to open it. What the hell?

      The only shops around me that keep their front doors locked are the pawnbrokers. What shoplifter in her right mind would go round nicking wedding dresses? Just try stuffing one of those down the front of your jeans.

      ‘Sorry,’ I say to the forty-something woman who unlocks the door. Her smile is radiant, but it doesn’t reach her perfectly made-up eyes. Everything about her says elegance, from her pale grey shift dress and high heels to her sleek blonde chignon and the simple gold necklace and earrings she’s wearing.

      ‘Won’t you make yourself comfortable?’ she whispers.

      ‘Okay, thanks,’ I whisper back. The deep-pile carpet muffles my steps, but we all hear my charm bracelet tinkling.

      Philippa and Abby rise from the cream velvet sofa for kisses. ‘Darling! We’re having champagne.’ My future mother-in-law’s booming voice shatters the peace in the shop. ‘Do have some.’ She glances at the woman, who hurries over with a crystal glass. ‘Isn’t this going to be marvellous fun?’

      I catch Abby rolling her eyes at her mum. She’s only twenty and probably has better things to do than come wedding dress shopping. She knocks back the champagne and holds out her glass for more.

      ‘We’ve just been chatting about designs,’ Philippa continues. ‘Yah, do you have something special in mind, darling?’

      ‘I figured I could just try some on and see what looks good.’ I never know what I’m looking for when I shop. I just go along the rails and pick out

Скачать книгу