Maria Realf - The One

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Harper Impulse

an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

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London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Copyright © Maria Realf 2018

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Cover design © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Maria Realf asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008278960

Ebook Edition © March 2018 ISBN: 9780008278977

Version: 2018-01-29

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: 13 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 2: 2 October 2002

Chapter 3: 12 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 4: 6 October 2002

Chapter 5: 11 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 6: 6 October 2002

Chapter 7: 10 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 8: 25 December 2002

Chapter 9: 9 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 10: 6 October 2003

Chapter 11: 8 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 12: 3 April 2004

Chapter 13: 7 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 14: 15 May 2004

Chapter 15: 6 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 16: 23 July 2004

Chapter 17: 5 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 18: 26 December 2004

Chapter 19: 4 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 20: 18 February 2005

Chapter 21: 3 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 22: 4 March 2005

Chapter 23: 2 Weeks to Go …

Chapter 24: 1 Week to Go …

Chapter 25: 4 Days to Go …

Chapter 26: 3 Days to Go …

Chapter 27: 1 Day to Go …

Chapter 28: 5 Hours to Go …

Chapter 29: 30 Minutes to Go …

Chapter 30: Here Comes the Bride …

Epilogue: Two Years Later

Acknowledgements

About the Author

A Q&A with Maria Realf

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

For Rob, my love,

Zac, my treasure,

And Stephen, my hero

F inally, I’ve found The One! Lizzie Sparkes gazed at the full-length mirror in the changing room, hardly daring to believe that it was her own reflection staring back. The Grecian gown was perfect, with tiny beads twinkling along the asymmetric strap, and a delicate train skimming the carpet as though it was practising for the Oscars. It wasn’t too tight, it wasn’t scratchy and it didn’t make her look like a human doily. The only downside was the eye-wateringly expensive price, but she had decided to overlook that part. It’ll be worth it when Josh sees me walking down the aisle , she reassured herself, a lump rising in her throat. I look almost … beautiful.

She was afraid to step out from the safety of the cubicle, in case the look on her mum’s face – or Megan’s – betrayed the fact that they didn’t feel the same. They were both polite when it came to watching her try on wedding gowns, and had patiently sat through some 30 or so now, but she knew them well enough to read the signs. When her mum wasn’t keen on a dress, she blinked three or four times in quick succession, while Megan pulled a weird half-smile that made her look as though she’d had a dodgy facelift. It was a total giveaway, every time.

Lizzie drew a deep breath and swept back the purple velvet curtain. She took a slow step out into the centre of the boutique, her dark hair swishing loosely behind her like a glossy veil. ‘W-O-W,’ said Megan.

Her mum promptly burst into tears, which was a more confusing reaction.

‘Mum? Don’t you like it?’

There was a long pause while Lynda Sparkes rummaged through her overcrowded handbag, before pulling out a crumpled tissue and nearly poking herself in her right eye. ‘Oh, Elizabeth,’ she sniffed, mascara smudging into her crows’ feet. ‘You look like a movie star.’

Yep, this is definitely The One …

The store manager tottered over in her nude skyscraper heels, clearly anticipating a hefty commission. ‘That dress looks amazing on you,’ she gushed. ‘It fits so well, you’d hardly need any alterations. We could maybe just take it up an inch or two.’ She bent down and folded the hem with her hands by way of demonstration, though it didn’t seem to make a great deal of difference. ‘What do you think?’

‘I’ll take it.’ The words popped out of Lizzie’s mouth before she had a chance to peek again at the price tag.

‘Excellent!’ The manager clapped her manicured hands loudly and two blonde minions, one tall and one tiny, raced over. ‘Let’s open some champagne, please, for Ms …’

‘Sparkes. Soon to be Cooper.’

‘Of course. I assume we’re all having some bubbly?’

‘You assume right,’ said Megan. She was not the kind of girl to turn down champagne at any hour, especially if it was on the house.

‘Marvellous.’ Moments later the two blondes reappeared, one bearing a tray of glasses and the other carrying a bottle of fizz. The manager made an elaborate show of popping the cork and pouring it out with a flourish. ‘Well, congratulations!’

‘Thank you,’ smiled Lizzie, edging away from the drinks so as not to spill anything down the pristine white silk. After six long months of searching, she was still in shock that she had found the dress of her dreams. Everyone kept telling her that she would know the right one when she saw it, but she’d been starting to suspect that might be a bridal myth. Last week she’d had a nightmare that she arrived at the wedding in a gown made from loo roll, which began to unravel in front of all their guests. She’d woken up covered in sweat and couldn’t get back to sleep, but Josh thought it was hilarious when she relayed the story the next morning. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll still marry you if you turn up in Andrex,’ he joked. ‘And think how much money we’d save …’

It was easy for him to laugh, of course; he’d chosen his suit after just two shopping trips and looked like a male model in it, the slimline cut complementing his lean, athletic build. ‘You’re not supposed to upstage the bride,’ she’d only half-joked when he tried it on, feeling the pressure to pick an equally special outfit increase tenfold. It was a huge relief to have finally found something so perfect.

‘I can’t believe you’re getting married!’ squealed Megan, the bubbliness of the champers already kicking in. ‘And in that fabulous dress.’ She glanced over at Mrs Sparkes, who had finally managed to stop sobbing long enough to take a sip of her drink. ‘Mrs S, we’re really going to have to get you some waterproof eye make-up.’