Katie Fforde - Wedding Season

The morning room, where people were to drink champagne until the call to dinner, shone. This was also where people not invited to the actual ceremony would gather until it was over. Several young men in elegant black uniforms were polishing glasses, prepared to serve champagne to all the guests as near simultaneously as possible.

Usually Sarah would have briefed them, but this time she'd had to depend on Jess Allsop, the owner of the catering company, a woman she knew well and had worked with often. When Sarah gave the word, these men would spring into action and every guest would have a glass within seconds.

Sarah found Jess, smartly suited and calm, with Fenella. 'We were a bit worried you wouldn't make it,' said Fenella. 'Although we'd have been fine without you, Carrie really wanted you to be here.' Jess and Fenella exchanged friendly glances.

Sarah was pleased to see that everyone was getting on well and working as a team.

‘And Celeb magazine have been looked after?' asked Sarah.

‘There are place names on the pews. They've got two,' said Fenella. 'They took some shots earlier but I think they're going to use Hugo's. Should earn him a bit of pocket money.'

‘Absolutely!' agreed Jess.

Upstairs Fenella and Rupert's room was looking tidy and welcoming. It was where Carrie would be remade-up after the ceremony and before the reception. She would change out of her wedding dress here too and, if she needed a break, she had somewhere to escape to. Someone, Elsa, Sarah suspected, had tidied it before taking Carrie's dress to the hotel.

‘Has anyone seen the groom?' she asked Fenella. 'Rupert has. They're being kept well apart at the hotel. It was so brilliant you got here on time!'

‘I couldn't have done it without the helicopter,' said Sarah and told Fenella the story.

Sarah waited at the door of the chapel, looking down the gentle curve of the hill to where the horse and carriage were coming up. She could see that Elsa's creation looked truly Faerie-Queen-like and the horse and carriage were the perfect vehicle for such an ethereal bride.

The security people had dealt with the paparazzi, presumably having let them get the agreed shots. Sarah didn't have to worry about anything now, except the ceremony and the reception.

Elsa and Bron had slipped into their places. They'd had a rush at the end and had barely had time to get into their own clothes. Elsa, Sarah noted, was wearing her ball gown, appropriate for an evening event. Sarah had meant to change out of the outfit she'd worn for Lily's wedding into something more formal, but it was too hot for confining garments and magic knickers. It had all been a frightful rush, but now she could focus. She knew that Hugo was somewhere about. They'd exchanged glances earlier and he'd given her a warm, encouraging smile. Just knowing he was around made her feel better, more confident.

The long-haired pony seemed to take for ever to come up the hill but Sarah realised it only seemed like that because she'd been rushing about so much. She could see Hugo now, taking photographs, naturally. She owed him a huge debt of gratitude. How could she repay him? Nothing she could think of doing seemed like half enough.

She looked back into the chapel and saw Carrie's handsome groom. He was chatting and laughing to his best man, far more confident than Dirk had looked. Sarah realised she recognised the best man and tried to remember what film or television programme she'd seen him in. It was a way of occupying her mind as the little horse clip- clopped its way up.

All the guests were pretty glamorous too. It was a small wedding, considering, but the spend per outfit would almost have covered the entire cost of Lily's budget affair.

She turned her mind back to that very different wedding. What were they getting up to now? Dancing, she hoped, to the CD the bride and groom had made together, marking the progression of their romance with the songs. She was so pleased that she'd been able to help her sister have her perfect day. Carrie was having a band later, for the dancing that was going to take place in the drawing room. Sarah had talked her out of having a string quartet playing during the meal as they would take up valuable space.

At last Carrie arrived. She was handed out of the carriage by her father, who was giving her away in the proper traditional manner Carrie had wanted. Her little bridesmaids were all ready. When Sarah heard Purcell's 'Trumpet Tune' for the second time that day she knew the end was in sight. In eight hours or so she could fall into bed.

Elsa slipped into the back of the chapel, having arranged Carrie's dress for the final time before she set off up the aisle. She was very pleased with how it had turned out. The back, particularly, was a triumph. This was the part that people spent most time looking at, after all.

The crystal-studded corset and the stiffened georgette caught the light and glittered as if it had been sprinkled with diamonds. No theatrical costume could have looked more fairy-like or magical.

Even the little bridesmaids, whose dresses had been so last minute, looked like fairy servants behind their queen. No one would know the panic, the frantic sewing, the midnight hours that went into those costumes except a very few people, but, Elsa now knew, it had all been worth it.

She had spent the few minutes she had before Carrie appeared star-spotting. It was one way to pass the time, and she thought it might help her throw off the melancholy that had settled over her recently.

She'd heard nothing from Laurence for ages. He'd warned her he'd have very little time to call or text, and he was in the States anyway, so the time difference made things even more difficult. But she was a bit hurt. There were at least half a dozen ways a person could contact another person these days, not including carrier pigeon.

Had she made a mistake in sleeping with him? Was that why his texts had dwindled to nothing a matter of days afterwards? If she had, it was a lovely mistake, and she'd just have to be content with the memory of a wonderful night of passion with a caring, considerate, sexy man.

A little spark of excitement flickered, like light on Swarovski crystals, in her heart. Maybe he'd still be able to make it after all. Perhaps he was on his way at this very moment and unable to call her. The fact that he might turn up gave her that little hope.

Still, she thought, if he couldn't come, there were plenty of fit young men here, even if they were mostly accompanied by size zero, WAG-type starlets and unlikely to look at her in her Regency ball gown.

After the ceremony, and when the wedding supper was over, having checked Carrie's dress again after the bride'd been upstairs and had her lip-gloss reapplied, and her back and shoulders powdered and sprinkled with the merest dusting of iridescent make-up, Elsa looked around the room and caught Bron's eye. Bron, she knew, was worrying about the fact that her bed was still covered in glass from when the ladder went through it. There'd been no opportunity to do anything about it and while there would probably be somewhere spare for her to sleep, not knowing where that would be was depressing for her. As was the fact that James seemed to have disappeared.

‘May I have the pleasure of this dance?' The best man, whom Elsa recognised as an American soap star, stood before her. He was smiling down at her with his perfect teeth practically twinkling.

It was a waltz: Carrie had wanted her reception to start with several traditional ballroom dances to show off her beautiful gown before it morphed into a more general free- for-all.

He was very good-looking, Elsa had to acknowledge, and although at one time she would have refused, there wasn't an adult bridesmaid he should have been dancing with and she could do waltzing now. She said yes. She smiled at him and allowed him to take her into his arms.