Sophie Kinsella: Shopaholic ties the knot

“Luke, this isn’t Manhattan,” I say, opening the car door. “You’ll see.”

As we get out, the front door swings open, and there’s Mum, wearing tartan trousers and a sweatshirt reading “Mother of the Bride.”

“Becky!” she cries, and runs over to give me a hug.

“Mum.” I hug her back. “Is everything OK?”

“Everything’s under control, I think!” she says a little flusteredly. “We had a problem with the table posies, but fingers crossed, they should be on their way… Luke! How are you? How was the financial conference?”

“It went er… very well,” he says. “Very well indeed, thank you. I’m just sorry it’s caused so much trouble with the wedding arrangements—”

“Oh, that’s all right!” says Mum. “I’ll admit, I was a bit taken aback when Becky phoned. But in the end, it didn’t take much doing! Most of the guests were staying over for Sunday brunch, anyway. And Peter at the church was most understanding, and said he didn’t usually conduct weddings on a Sunday, but in this case he’d make an exception—”

“But what about… the catering, for instance? Wasn’t that all booked for yesterday?”

“Oh, Lulu didn’t mind! Did you, Lulu?” she says to one of the women in green and white stripes.

“No!” says Lulu brightly. “Of course not. Hello, Becky! How are you?”

Oh my God! It’s Lulu who used to take me for Brownies.

“Hi!” I say, “I didn’t know you did catering!”

“Oh well.” She makes a self-deprecating little gesture. “It’s just to keep me busy, really. Now that the children are older…”

“You know, Lulu’s son Aaron is in the band!” says Mum proudly. “He plays the keyboards! And you know, they’re very good! They’ve been practicing ‘Unchained Melody’ especially—”

“Now, just taste this!” says Lulu, reaching into a foil-covered tray and producing a canapé. “It’s our new Thai filo parcels. We’re rather pleased with them. You know, filo pastry is very in now.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” Lulu nods knowledgeably. “No one has shortcake tartlets anymore. And as for vol-au-vents…” She pulls a little face. “Over.”

“You are so right,” says Danny, his eyes bright. “The vol-au-vent is dead. The vol-au-vent is toast, if you will. May I ask where you stand on the asparagus roll?”

“Mum, this is Danny,” I put in quickly. “My neighbor, remember?”

“Mrs. B., it’s an honor to meet you,” says Danny, kissing Mum’s hand. “You don’t mind my tagging along with Becky?”

“Of course not!” says Mum. “The more the merrier! Now, come and see the marquee!”

As we walk round to the garden, my jaw drops. A huge silver and white striped marquee is billowing on the lawn. All the flower beds read “Becky and Luke” in pansies. There are fairy lights strung up in every available bush and shrub. A uniformed gardener is polishing a new granite water feature, someone else is sweeping the patio, and inside the marquee I can see lots of middle-aged women sitting in a semicircle, holding notebooks.

“Janice is just giving the girls the team briefing,” says Mum in an undertone. “She’s really got into this wedding organizing lark now. She wants to start doing it professionally!”

“Now,” I hear Janice saying as we approach. “The emergency rose petals will be in a silver basket by Pillar A. Could you all please mark that on your floorplans—”

“You know, I think she’ll be a success,” I say thoughtfully.

“Betty and Margot, if you could be in charge of buttonholes. Annabel, if you could please take care of—”

“Mum?” says Luke, peering into the marquee incredulously.

Oh my God. It’s Annabel! It’s Luke’s stepmum, sitting there along with everyone else.

“Luke!” Annabel looks round and her entire face lights up. “Janice, excuse me for a moment—”

She hurries toward us and envelops Luke in a tight hug.

“You’re here. I’m so glad to see you.” She peers anxiously into his face. “Are you all right, darling?”

“I’m fine,” says Luke, “I think. A lot’s been going on…”

“So I understand,” says Annabel, and gives me a sharp look. “Becky.” She reaches out with one arm and hugs me, too. “I’m going to have a long chat with you later,” she says into my ear.

“So… you’re helping with the wedding?” says Luke to his stepmother.

“Oh, it’s all hands to the deck around here,” says Mum gaily. “Annabel’s one of us now!”

“And where’s Dad?” says Luke, looking around.

“He’s gone to get some extra glasses with Graham,” says Mum. “Those two have really hit it off. Now, who’s for a cup of coffee?”

“You’re getting on well with Luke’s parents!” I say, following Mum toward the kitchen.

“Oh, they’re super!” she says happily. “Really charming. They’ve already invited us down to stay in Devon. Nice, normal, down-to-earth people. Not like… that woman.”

“No. They’re quite different from Elinor.”

“She didn’t seem at all interested in the wedding,” says Mum, her voice prickling slightly. “You know, she never even replied to her invitation!”

“Didn’t she?”

Damn. I thought I’d done a reply from Elinor.

“Have you seen much of her recently?” says Mum.

“Er… no,” I say. “Not much.”

We carry a tray of coffee upstairs to Mum’s bedroom, and open the door to find Suze and Danny sitting on the bed, with Ernie lying between them, kicking his little pink feet. And hanging on the wardrobe door opposite, Mum’s wedding dress, as white and frilly as ever.

“Suze!” I exclaim, giving her a hug. “And gorgeous Ernie! He’s got so big—” I bend down to kiss his cheek, and he gives me an enormous gummy smile.

“You made it.” Suze grins at me. “Well done, Bex.”

“Suze has just been showing me your family heirloom wedding dress, Mrs. B.,” says Danny, raising his eyebrows at me. “It’s… quite unique.”

“This dress is a real survivor!” says Mum delightedly. “We thought it was ruined, but all the coffee came out!”

“What a miracle!” says Danny.

“And even just this morning, little Ernie tried to throw apple puree over it—”

“Oh, really?” I say, glancing at Suze, who flushes slightly.

“But luckily I’d covered it in protective plastic!” says Mum. She reaches for the dress and shakes out the frills, slightly pink about the eyes. “This is a moment I’ve been dreaming about for so long. Becky wearing my wedding dress. I am a silly, aren’t I?”

“It’s not silly,” I say, and give her a hug. “It’s what weddings are all about.”

“Mrs. Bloomwood, Becky described the dress to me,” says Danny. “And I can honestly say she didn’t do it justice. But you won’t mind if I make a couple of teeny tiny alterations?”

“Not at all!” says Mum, and glances at her watch. “Well, I must get on. I’ve still got to chase these posies!”

As the door closes behind her, Danny and Suze exchange glances.

“OK,” says Danny. “What are we going to do with this?”

“You could cut the sleeves off, for a start,” says Suze. “And all those frills on the bodice.”

“I mean, how much of it do we actually need to keep?” Danny looks up. “Becky, what do you think?”

I don’t reply. I’m staring out of the window into the garden. I can see Luke and Annabel walking round the garden, their heads close together, talking. And there’s Mum talking to Janice, and gesturing to the flowering cherry tree.

“Becky?” says Danny again.

“Don’t touch it,” I say, turning round.

“What?”

“Don’t do anything to it.” I smile at Danny’s appalled face. “Just leave it as it is.”