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

Our house looks so inviting as I approach, the lamp inside the living room casting a warm glow now it’s just starting to turn dark, but I don’t ask the taxi driver to stop just yet. There’s plenty of space to park, but we carry on up the road, stopping several doors away so the rumbling engine doesn’t alert Alice to my arrival. My plan is to sneak, as quiet as a mouse wearing cotton-wool slippers, into the house and up the stairs without Alice hearing a thing. I know she’ll want to dissect the date – What did we talk about? Did we kiss (or get up to anything more saucy)? Wouldn’t he make a fabulous husband and father one day? – and I simply don’t have the energy or inclination to discuss any of it. Not tonight. Alice will be so disappointed I’ve let another good guy slip through my fingers, so I’ll let her down gently in the morning (or shout it over my shoulder as I leg it from the house with a piece of toast clutched in hand so I don’t have to go into detail). Alice has been trying to find my perfect match for the past year. She’s always had herself pegged as a bit of a Cupid, but three things happened a year ago to propel her nagging about my love life to actual meddling. The first was the introduction of Alice and Kevin, one of the music teachers at my school. Alice had been a bit mopey since her sister announced her engagement, so when a group of us got together to celebrate the end of the school year, to toast our surviving yet another set of GCSEs and kick off the summer holidays in style, I invited Alice to join us. She hit it off with Kevin and, one year on, they’re proper loved up, and Alice thinks it’s all down to me. She’s determined to repay the favour, even if I’d rather she didn’t. I’m happy being single. It’s less complicated. Less stressful. Ending my relationship with Edward – the second thing that happened a year ago – was the right decision, no matter how much Alice tells me otherwise.

I pull my keys out of my handbag as I scurry past the row of houses, making an emergency stop as I reach the Chelsea Flower Show. From here, I tiptoe (yes, really – I look like a flipping cartoon character) past the shrubs and flowers until I reach our wall. I pause while I consider – briefly – whether I should drop down to the pavement and army-crawl past the window. The blinds are still open and, although my view is obscured by their angle from the outside, Alice will be able to see me clearly if she happens to look outside. But no, even I’m not that irrational.

With extreme care, I inch my key up to the lock, holding my breath as metal reaches metal. Growing up, I had lots of practice at sneaking into houses – non-burglar-like – as I often stayed with my great aunt, who was strict about curfews (screw it, let’s call a spade a spade – the woman was a mean old cow), so I manage to slot the key into place almost silently, turning it ever so gently until the door starts to give. This is the easy bit done with. The hardest part is removing the key without alerting the occupant inside.

With one hand against the door, I ease the key from the lock, breath held and face scrunched up in concentration. I’m nearly there. The key is coming loose. A little bit more and it’ll be free. I’ll creep inside, closing the door with as little noise as possible, before slinking up the stairs. Once I’ve made it up there, I’m golden. If Alice finds me in bed, I’ll just pretend to be asleep.

The key slips from the lock and I give the door a gentle nudge, almost jumping out of my skin as I come face to face with Alice, looming on the doormat like Great Aunt Dorothy.

‘Holy humus, Alice!’ I’ve somehow managed to swallow the gasp of surprise as I take a step back, one hand pressed against my chest. ‘What are you doing ? You scared the crap out of me.’

‘Ssh!’ Alice’s eyes are wide, a finger vertical across her lips. When she speaks, she’s whispering. ‘I thought you were Kevin.’

‘Do you usually hide behind the door to scare the living daylights out of your boyfriend?’ I, too, am whispering, though I’m not sure why.

‘No, of course not.’ Alice grabs me and pulls me inside, her finger going back up to her lips once my feet are firmly on the ground again. She nods towards the living room. ‘Francelia is here.’

‘What?’ I manage to groan while whispering. ‘Why? What have we done to deserve this?’

‘Something bad, obviously.’ Alice narrows her eyes at me. ‘Why are you home so early?’

I concentrate on shoving my keys into my handbag so I don’t have to look at Alice when I reply. ‘The date didn’t go too well.’

I sneak a peek up at Alice. She’s folded her arms across her chest and an eyebrow is quirked at me. ‘What do you mean? What happened?’

This is why I was so keen to avoid Alice tonight. She’s affronted every time a date goes awry, as though I’ve insulted her by not falling head over heels with the guy. I look down at the doormat beneath my feet. This really is like getting collared sneaking into Great Aunt Dorothy’s house and I’m lost for words as she awaits an explanation.

‘Emily…?’

I sneak another peek at her. Poor Alice. There is such hope in her eyes. It’s going to be such a shame to squish it.

‘I ended it.’

‘You ended it?’ Alice’s voice comes out all high and squeaky, and she clamps a hand to her mouth, her eyes swivelling towards the closed living room door. When she speaks again, the whisper is back. ‘What happened?’ Her eyebrow quirks again, as though adding ‘ this time ’ to the end of her question.

‘He wanted me to meet his parents.’ I wait for a reaction, but Alice doesn’t bat an eyelid. ‘His parents , Alice. We’ve been on three dates . That isn’t normal!’

Alice opens her mouth to argue, but closes it again with a sigh. ‘I suppose you’re right. It is a bit soon.’

‘A bit soon?’ I give a hoot, which earns me a death glare from Alice, who thrusts a thumb at the living room. I dutifully lower my voice even further. ‘Three dates, Alice. I’ve known the man for approximately six hours. You’ve been with Kevin for a year and…’ I yelp as Alice grabs me by the arm, her grip so tight it pinches.

‘Will you shush ?’ Her eyes are back on the living room door again.

‘Sorry.’ I try to extricate myself from Alice’s grasp, but the woman’s fingers are like a vice. ‘But you know what I mean. Also, you’re really hurting me.’

‘What?’ Alice looks down, suddenly realising I’m trying to squirm from her grip. ‘Oh. Sorry.’ She releases my arm and I start to inch towards the stairs.

‘Anyway, I’m exhausted. I’m going to go up to bed.’

‘No, you are not.’ Alice’s fingers are clutching my arm again before I can make any attempt to shuffle off upstairs. ‘You are not leaving me with that woman. She’s been here for twenty minutes and I already feel like jumping off a very tall building. She’s mocked my career choice, my living arrangements, my so-called weight gain.’ Alice looks down at her tiny frame. ‘Pur-lease. Bitch knows I look smokin’ hot.’ She tightens her grip on my arm, and her eyebrows press down low. ‘Any minute now we’re going to start on my love life. I need you, Emily.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier if you just told them about Kevin?’

Despite their one-year relationship, Alice hasn’t told her family about her boyfriend. They’ve never met him or even heard his name. As far as they’re aware, Alice is still very much single (and doesn’t Francelia like to goad Alice about that ).

‘Are you kidding me?’ Alice jabs her free hand at the living room door. ‘That woman in there would make our relationship hell until she’d crushed it if she knew about me and Kevin. You’ve met her. She’s evil. There’s not a chance in hell she’d accept Kevin.’