Jennifer Joyce - The Wedding that Changed Everything - a gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy

‘Ssh!’ the woman suddenly hisses. ‘Here she comes.’

I follow their gaze and almost laugh out loud when I realise it’s Alice they’re tracking across the room. They’re worried about Alice ? Alice, the loveliest, most generous person I know? Ridiculous! I’m offended on my best friend’s behalf and am about to put them straight when Alice stops suddenly, her eyes widening when she clocks the looks of distrust on our dinner companions’ faces. She hesitates for a moment, as though she’s contemplating turning around and retracing her steps out of the room, but then pushes forward swiftly, a smile forced into place.

‘There you are. I’ve been looking for you.’ She drops down into the seat next to me, her gaze fixed firmly on my face. ‘I’m sorry about before.’

‘It’s okay.’ My eyes flick towards the two women, who are looking on with deep suspicion, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. What is going on ? ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘I think they’re about to start serving.’ Alice is now looking down at the tablecloth, her fingers playing with the napkin, unfolding its elaborate design and smoothing it down into a boring old square.

‘Do you know what?’ the woman announces loudly. ‘I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.’ She scrapes back her chair and stands, looking down at Alice, who is refolding the napkin, though not in its original shape. ‘I can’t imagine why.’

She strides away, followed quickly by her neighbour, leaving the table in awkward silence. Even a couple of nearby tables have quietened so they can observe the drama. The bloke sitting next to me starts to whistle with fake nonchalance while Mr Cravat is taking a great interest in his fingernails.

I lean in close to Alice and whisper, ‘What was that all about?’

She sneaks a peek up from her napkin-pleating and I’m stunned when I notice the tears pooling in her eyes.

‘It’s nothing.’ She attempts a smile. And fails. ‘I’ll explain it all later.’ She gives another valiant attempt at a smile and almost succeeds this time. ‘So, our mission…’ I give her a blank look. ‘To find your Prince Charming.’

‘Oh. That.’ I should have known there was little that could distract Alice from the task at hand. ‘What about it?’

‘Is there anybody you’ve seen so far who’s piqued your interest, even mildly?’ She looks around the table, frowns, and looks further afield, craning her neck to see who’s on offer.

‘I quite like the look of the suit of armour in the entrance hall. I bet Old Rusty would show me a good time.’ I’m joking, trying to cheer her up after the awkward moment, but Alice isn’t amused by my fooling around. Her lips are pressed very tightly together as she turns to face me again.

‘His name is Wallace.’

‘You named the suit of armour?’

‘Yes.’ Alice gives me a look that suggests I’m the crazy one. But then her face brightens and she gasps. ‘I’ve got it! I know who’ll be perfect for you. He’s so charming. And handsome. And kind.’

‘But how will we break it to Old Rusty? I’ve promised him dinner and a movie.’

Alice ignores me and continues to list the qualities of the so-far-unnamed gentleman. Honestly, the way she’s going on, he’s well on his way to sainthood. He sounds too perfect.

‘So, what’s his flaw?’

A flurry of waiting staff have started to serve dinner, placing bowls of soup in front of the guests, so Alice has a moment to consider the question. Everybody has a flaw – minor or major – and I’m keen to get it out there, so I have all the information available to me instead of the cherry-picked stuff. How else am I supposed to make an informed decision?

‘He doesn’t have any,’ she says as the waiting staff move away. She picks up her spoon and starts to dig merrily into her soup.

‘None?’

Alice starts to shake her head, but stops herself and scrunches up her nose. ‘Well…’ The way she drags the word out, I’m expecting something big. He’s perfect apart from his massive foot fetish . Or he’s charming apart from his severe racism . And that criminal record for armed robbery? Nothing to concern yourself with.

‘He’s Francelia’s nephew.’ Alice rests a hand on my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘But don’t hold it against him. He really is lovely.’

‘If he’s so lovely,’ I say as Alice resumes her soup-scooping, ‘why don’t you go out with him?’

‘For two reasons.’ Alice holds up a finger. ‘One: I’m madly in love with Kevin. And two…’ She holds up a second finger. ‘He’s my step-cousin. It’s icky.’

Which is fair enough, but it doesn’t help me wriggle out of being introduced to him.

Chapter Nine

We move through to the ballroom after dinner, where a band is playing some jazzy numbers and a cocktail bar is set up in one corner, which I intend to make full use of this evening. I’m no doubt going to be introduced to Francelia’s oh-so-perfect nephew – plus any number of potential suitors – so I’ll need the alcohol to get through the evening.

Alice hands me a menu of the drink concoctions on offer. ‘I’ll head to the bar while you keep your eyes peeled for any possible matches. What would you like?’

I hand the menu back to Alice. ‘Anything, as long as it has at least three shots and an umbrella in it.’

I circumnavigate the dance floor, where couples are already twirling away, and make my way to a dark corner where I can hopefully hide away for the evening. I know it will be no use. Alice is determined to couple me up with somebody – anybody – and there is no corner dark enough to protect me from the onslaught. But I have to at least give myself a fighting chance of surviving the week.

‘I got you a blood orange margarita.’ Alice pushes a glass into my hands and clinks her own against it. ‘Anybody caught your eye yet?’

I take a large sip (read: drain half in one go). ‘Nope.’

Alice’s shoulders slump. ‘I haven’t seen Archie yet, either. I was sure he’d be here.’

‘Archie?’

Alice has been scouring the room with her eyes, but she throws me a contemptuous look now. ‘Francelia’s nephew.’

‘Ah. Mr Perfect.’ I drain the rest of my drink.

‘You scoff now,’ Alice says. ‘But wait until you meet him.’

I’m itching with anticipation.

‘What was the deal with that woman at dinner?’ I ask, partly to shift attention away from myself and partly because I’m a nosy cow. I regret it, however, when I see a flash of pain cross Alice’s face. She takes a long sip of her own drink before she turns to me, eyes wide and pleading.

‘It was a huge mistake, okay? I didn’t do it, no matter what Francelia says. You have to believe me.’

I straighten, my shoulders whipping back. ‘Always. You know that. I’ll always be on your side.’

Alice nods, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. ‘It happened years ago, the summer before uni, just before I met you. We were all here, like always, the whole gang. It was the last time the four of us were together.’ Alice pauses, flashing me a pleading look again, silently begging me to believe what she’s about to tell me. I take her hand in mine. ‘One night, Francelia’s necklace went missing. It was this really expensive antique, passed down from her mum’s family for generations. It was so ugly, but Francelia thought she was wearing the bloody crown jewels or something. Anyway, one evening she runs into the dining room, in a proper flap, because her necklace has gone missing. She can’t find it anywhere . She had us searching the entire castle, but it didn’t turn up anywhere.’ Alice squeezes my hand. ‘Until Francelia marched us all to my bedroom and made me empty my underwear drawer. And there it was! Just sitting there. But I swear, Emily, I didn’t take it. I didn’t .’