Eve Devon - The Wedding Planner

Crispin gave her eye-rolling a run for its money and lifted his hand impatiently, ‘Can you shed some light onto the proceedings?’

‘The pretzel proceedings?’ She stood behind the safety of the bar, caught in the glare provided by some of the residents as they turned to stare at her. Unable to take it, she glanced upwards, straight into the large sparkly chandelier. The one with the ridiculous fairytale attached to it. The one responsible for making her think about Seth Knightley in a light which, if it ever got out and saw the light of day, she’d have to disavow all knowledge of, and leave Whispers Wood in the middle of the night, never to return.

‘You know Gloria,’ Crispin said, his voice exasperated, ‘after all that Whispers Wood has done for you I don’t think it’s too much to ask you to share your intel.’

Intel?

‘I know you’re in the know,’ Crispin declared.

‘The know?’

‘As if you wouldn’t be – what with being Emma’s bridesmaid.’

Gloria’s mouth dropped open. Everyone knew already? There would be no graceful backing-out? Not that Gloria had the first clue as to what constituted graceful. Should have studied ballet like that Arabella Jones.

Yanking up the agenda for the meeting, she pointed to it. ‘There’s nothing listed here about Emma and Jake and their wedding. How did you find out?’

‘Felix heard it from Sheila who I believe got it from Cheryl who told Mrs. Harlow when they met in Big Kev’s corner shop earlier this afternoon.’

General consensus noises could be heard throughout the room.

Unbelievable, except, if you lived in Whispers Wood, and had had first-hand experience of the village vine, completely believable. ‘What has my being one of Emma’s bridesmaids have to do with the beer festival?’

Crispin stared at her like she’d dropped twenty IQ points. ‘I would have thought that was obvious. I did ask both Jake and Emma to be here tonight so that we could address the,’ he brought up his hands to make speech marks, ‘matter openly.’

‘What,’ she brought her hands up to copy his speech marks, ‘matter? Are you asking me what beer they’ve chosen for the reception? Or whether they want to use the tents for the big day?’

‘I’m asking you to give us the date for their wedding.’

‘Are you worried it will clash with a golfing day?’

‘I’m worried it will clash with the beer festival.’

With a glance at her Village Meeting Mantra, she pasted on another smile and said, ‘Just pick a day and let them know. I’m sure they’ll be able to work around it.’

Crispin shook his head. ‘No can do. It needs to be the other way round so I can organise accordingly. These stall-holders aren’t going to wait indefinitely. If I don’t give them a date – a date that I’m certain won’t conflict—’

‘Oh, for—’ Do not swear. Do not swear. ‘Do you really think the whole of Whispers Wood is going to be invited to Emma and Jake’s wedding?’

Shocked gasps rung out and then everyone started speaking at once.

Oh … my … God … just as she thought she might have to suggest to Emma that they store riot gear on the premises, Crispin got to do his favourite thing and as his gavel rapped sharply against the lectern, and his shouts of ‘Order, order,’ rang out, the room quietened back down.

He looked confused as he asked, ‘Why ever wouldn’t we all be invited?’ And then suspicious as he added, ‘Do you know something we don’t?’

Fifty heads turned in her direction.

‘I know nothing.’ Shit. Her heart was pounding now and her mouth dry. ‘About anything,’ she added. Crikey, was that sweat breaking out on her upper lip?

‘You obviously do,’ Crispin pressed. ‘You’re being very mysterious about the whole thing.’

Telling herself she couldn’t afford to get arrested for clearing the bar in one tall leap, and braining Crispin with either a cocktail shaker or teapot, she tried to infuse her tone with patience. ‘I promise I’m not.’

‘There’s not trouble in paradise is there?’ Ted the mechanic, completely unhelpfully threw out, causing a worried, ‘oooh’ to go around the room.

‘Of course not,’ Gloria answered hurriedly. ‘They’re sickeningly in love. It’s foul.’ Wait, that hadn’t come out right at all. At this rate she was going to need those stress balls super-glued to her hands.

‘Then if there’s no hiccup with their relationship, what’s the issue? In-law trouble?’

Gloria stared at the rabble. They just kept coming. Like Walkers – of The Walking Dead variety, rather than the local ramblers’ society. ‘No. That’s not it, I’m sure.’

‘Then give us the date,’ Crispin pressed, folding his arms.

‘Yes, when’s the big day?’ Carole Jones piped up, probably hoping to get darling-daughter, Arabella, cast as a flower girl.

‘Look, they haven’t decided yet, okay?’ Gloria ground out.

‘Of course they have, they’ve gathered the wedding party,’ Trudie McTravers insisted. ‘You don’t gather the wedding party until you’ve decided on the date, everyone knows that.’

‘Come on, Gloria, dish the date,’ Ted’s wife said. ‘If I don’t get home soon, I’m going to miss the season finale of Merriweather Mysteries .’ Turning back to Crispin she said, ‘I don’t know why you scheduled the meeting for tonight, Crispin.’

‘Catch-up TV, maybe you’ve heard of it?’ Crispin replied.

‘Yes, but then I can’t tweet along during it and I have to turn off all my notifications so I don’t get spoilers before I get to see it.’

‘What’s to tweet? The most famous person is always the murderer,’ Gloria murmured and then reminded herself that the longer they were talking about this, the less time to talk about the other thing.

‘I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Merriweather Mysteries fan,’ Janet, one of the beauticians at the spa told Ted’s wife. ‘What do you think of the second series?’

‘It’s taken a bit of a delicious darker Dr Foster-esque turn, hasn’t it? Have you heard who they’re lining up for series three?’

‘Damn it, Janet,’ Crispin moaned, seemingly bemused at why people were now asking if Trudie could look into the next Whispers Wood production being The Rocky Horror Show. ‘Please everyone, we don’t have time for this. We need the wedding date so we can progress the beer festival. It’s in Emma and Jake’s best interests anyway. I can’t imagine their distress if it’s accidentally double-booked and residents have to decide whether to support them or the village.’

Frustrated and feeling the bilious-inducing green walls closing in, all Gloria could do was look around the room helplessly and repeat, ‘ Come on , you can’t seriously imagine the whole of Whispers Wood is invited?’

‘Of course we’re invited. It’ll be up at the Hall, won’t it?’ Trudie insisted. ‘We’ll all get the chance to see the gardens and Cheryl’s probably going to be asked to provide some of her prize-winning dahlias for the arrangements. Who won’t want to see and support that?’

At this new barrage of wedding-date harassment all Gloria could think was if she didn’t shut this down, they’d be egging each other on from now until the Doomsday Clock hit midnight.

‘All right, all right,’ she shouted. ‘You want a date? You want me to, like, give you their actual booked and completely planned wedding date?’

The room erupted into one great big fat affirmative.

As her thought process leapfrogged all over her brain in panic she suddenly found herself opening her mouth and saying, ‘Fourth of October.’

Wait—What the what?

The fourth of October?