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A Beautiful Day for a Wedding: This year’s Bridget Jones!
Charlotte Butterfield
A wonderfully heartwarming and feel good novel about love in all its forms. Katie Fforde meets Lucy Vine! What could possibly go wrong?Wedding journalist Eve is over the moon when her three best friends and her brother all decide to get married in the same summer. But when she finds out the man she once thought she’d be walking up the aisle with is back in the country and on all the guestlists, she can’t wait for wedding season to be over.As if Ben’s sudden reappearance isn’t enough, her bridezilla besties have her polishing floors, searching for giant flamingos and dog-sitting while they jet off on honeymoon. Her only release is writing an anonymous column full of her bitter bridesmaid tales – she just needs to make sure the happy couples never find out…Between facing her relationship demons and juggling her maid-of-honour duties, is Eve doomed to be left out of this summer of love?What readers are saying about Charlotte Butterfield:‘You’ll laugh, cry, and say “Oh! No!” Definitely a fun weekend read’ Meg, Goodreads‘One of the funniest books of the year!’ Lianne, Goodreads‘Will leave you with a massive smile on your face and feeling great and ready for the summer’ Karen Whittard‘Perfect for wedding season!’ Being Unique Books
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HarperImpulse
an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2018
Copyright © Charlotte Butterfield 2018
Cover illustration © Shutterstock.com
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
Charlotte Butterfield 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: 9780008302719
Ebook Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008302702
Version: 2018-04-18
Table of Contents
Cover (#ud4262719-8310-50fc-8a1b-a3fc9ee26430)
Title Page (#u5db40ee2-c2d1-5bfb-998b-49a75463a3b8)
Copyright (#ue7e2740f-45a6-560b-a86c-f6b6baa17c87)
Dedication (#u77077d08-46f1-557d-9f50-c34e5ad03713)
Prologue (#u7139552c-e8ee-551b-a3c2-27bf643a5df1)
Chapter 1 (#u2ace437d-52f3-5814-9a5b-6e58d089b9a4)
Chapter 2 (#u11fe95f7-e0f6-599a-aa91-53a92e000e75)
Chapter 3 (#u2a6bc0d5-1720-5688-9e5d-c450c222caf4)
Chapter 4 (#ufa9e1545-db5c-521f-825a-ea7f8c6eef7d)
Chapter 5 (#ud2c3c568-9bcb-584f-a80a-3f825af5e8c4)
Chapter 6 (#ub6a9dccb-e441-5f4a-aa93-4e94bce086e7)
Chapter 7 (#u80ffb2c7-43a7-58e9-8b44-ff1e2f3e7435)
Chapter 8 (#u34e032a9-1b21-58a4-ad06-8027961020f9)
Chapter 9 (#ub7ac341f-3e64-53b2-ab6a-86ed6749bec9)
Chapter 10 (#u4198bbf2-1d5f-5b81-ab44-e525d3fa9554)
Chapter 11 (#u7c5bbb97-79b7-5323-a7e6-db1c99189915)
Chapter 12 (#u8bca23be-6ad1-5a9d-9b9a-da8f10efca20)
Chapter 13 (#ua79a6252-ef87-50dc-9545-a15b35c716f2)
Chapter 14 (#uce797b50-2e3a-52b9-8aff-8d4e99460a01)
Chapter 15 (#ubdc9787b-bc7a-5724-89de-df2fa5bfd912)
Chapter 16 (#u42c330e3-6d6c-5ebb-bfa9-62e77a4467a6)
Chapter 17 (#u18a606f3-fdc9-52f9-9941-8c63dbfe71e3)
Chapter 18 (#u183b6fad-37d4-5571-ab10-2efc48491a0b)
Chapter 19 (#ubc63057b-9034-556e-a6b6-393634f400d9)
Chapter 20 (#u6ebb7838-238d-55de-8c58-c381bdae90ea)
Chapter 21 (#u08f507a4-9ce7-5e07-99b1-6f2b60df5597)
Chapter 22 (#u6590691d-c718-5f4c-854d-f8ce98dd8d68)
Chapter 23 (#u80b73ac2-bcac-5a17-ae92-e7da67b06763)
Chapter 24 (#u25f45eaa-723c-52cb-87e6-ffa2f5be7205)
Chapter 25 (#uef34bee4-a26a-5b1c-b112-2bf39ac3f75c)
Chapter 26 (#ud6e5db89-d71c-5cfa-9cb0-e66b998772e7)
Chapter 27 (#ud5dce0ed-ddd3-5a17-b19f-c03b4d34d74d)
Chapter 28 (#ufbd3f9d3-5586-5371-bf37-54530f7049f4)
Chapter 29 (#ue78b1ab8-7b29-53cc-bcb7-89843f728f85)
Chapter 30 (#u6446dc5b-b5cb-5681-b01f-148a4847d643)
Chapter 31 (#u719e88dc-d3fd-5430-b6a5-a66671fb12c3)
Chapter 32 (#u12b24054-651a-5c7c-a8ad-3b678ab8d819)
Chapter 33 (#u093142e9-63f7-51ea-9dba-17b15ef1e19c)
Chapter 34 (#u1da2ad2f-35e4-5622-8ce4-3f91a8c77b69)
Chapter 35 (#u12ff0ce0-c0e1-587a-8f64-12e3c6d5c28e)
Chapter 36 (#u1f8efd27-272d-57c5-ad98-b556e2bc29cd)
Chapter 37 (#u05d61d28-0f8e-5765-aab4-a1567523edea)
Acknowledgements (#u87c8ee47-a50b-5a5e-92f5-0a3392e95036)
Also by Charlotte Butterfield (#u245f3f49-1e8e-542a-8446-892211390042)
About the Author (#u25eb5f13-3d53-5927-96eb-4f4d0d931231)
About HarperImpulse (#ucfeb6927-a677-532b-9bf4-143eee03f9ee)
About the Publisher (#u0b9027bf-aebb-5ec4-92d2-797914ce83cb)
To Team P: Ed, Amélie, Rafe and Theo
Prologue (#u7019cb4f-9b3e-5646-94f6-37c809c4000a)
How to be the perfect bridesmaid. Rule number one: Start mourning the friend you love, because once she becomes entangled in wedding planning, she doesn’t exist anymore.
Gone are the easy chats about life, love and the universe, and in its place are endless one-sided monologues about whether it would be unreasonable to ask all the bridesmaids to pierce their ears so they can wear matching earrings (answer: yes). Evenings will be spent pondering the question of whether tulips are too cheap, orchids too expensive or peonies too try-hard. Who cares? They’ll either end up swept up with the confetti by an Eastern European cleaner on minimum wage in the morning, or carefully preserved in an airing cupboard by the groom’s granny. You know the friend that’s always been very supportive about your extra curves? Well, as soon as that sparkly solitaire gets slipped on her finger she’ll ‘accidentally’ order your bridesmaid dress a size too small forcing you to eat blended kale for a month before the wedding.
Let’s talk hen dos for just a moment. What a wonderful opportunity for some sisterhood solidarity, where dignity and self-consciousness are checked in with your coat at the door and the order of the day is friendship and fun. Wrong. Don’t even think about surprising the bride with an activity, theme or outfit she hasn’t approved. In writing. She may say that you have the power of attorney on this weekend, but she doesn’t mean it, she’s lying through her newly-whitened teeth – which brings me onto the subject of beauty. The role of a bridesmaid is to be pretty, but not too much. Save those fake eyelashes for another occasion, because God forbid you should have longer lash-action than the woman in white. By all means brush your hair, possibly even add a bit of bounce, but do not consider having an up-do that takes more than two minutes to construct. That’s her arena. The only part of your grooming routine you shouldn’t scrimp on is deodorant. You’ll need at least half a can sprayed into your armpits at all times to counteract the iron-woman training that you’ll be forced to do in the week before the big day. Fill your car with petrol, top up your oyster card, stash your heels for another day, and flex those limbs because good God are you going to be using them. Unless you are already a PA to the president of a small country, never before will you have been faced with a To Do List of the gargantuan proportions that you will soon be handed. And the best part is, you have to smile like Mary Poppins while cheerily crossing each item off. Hem curtains? Check. Polish floors? Check. Dog-sit for a fortnight? Che— Fuck. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
Eve had no idea that her legs could even move that fast. Weaving in and out of office workers, shoving tourists out of the way, hurdling over open drains, and banging on the sides of open-top buses, she finally made it to the front of her friend Tanya’s apartment block. Steadying herself on the gate for a moment to let the burning sensation in her lungs subside, she silently offered up a little prayer that she wasn’t about to walk into the rotting carcass of a pedigree pug.
The stench hit her before the key was fully turned in the lock. Covering her mouth with her sleeve and trying not to retch, Eve slowly pushed open the door and braced herself for whatever sight she might find. The flat was still. Silent. Too still and silent for an apartment with a dog in it.
‘Coco, here girl, there’s a good girl.’ Eve wandered quickly from room to room, giving a small gasp at the doorway of each one at the carnage that assaulted her eyes. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps Tanya had been burgled, the flat ransacked and the dog stolen. It would certainly make explaining this slightly easier. But robbers wouldn’t chew the sides of sofas until their filling spilled out, or wee on the expensive dhurrie rug from Peshawar. The ridiculous thing was, Eve was actually a little heartened to see the mess that Coco had made, as it meant that at some point over the last three days she’d had enough energy to create this bloodbath, rather than spend her final hours festering into a pile of bones.
The door to the bedroom was ajar, and, not having fully shaken away her intruder theory, Eve approached it cautiously. ‘Coco? Coco?’ A shoebox lay open at the foot of the bed, its lid chewed off. The distinctive red soles of Tanya’s prized black patent Louboutin heels were thankfully unmarked by tiny teeth marks, but instead, they’d been used as a portaloo. ‘Oh, sweet Jesus.’
At the sound of her voice, a sleeping Coco eagerly jumped up from the satin pillows she’d been snoozing on and gave a yelp of sheer joy. Flinging herself at Eve, in all her stinky glory, she covered her with slobbery kisses, which Eve couldn’t help but tearfully return. ‘Oh God Coco, I’m so sorry, please don’t tell anyone,’ she picked her up, snuggling her face into her fur. ‘It’ll be our secret.’
After giving her some water and filling her bowl with dried pellets that promised they contained organic chicken, she grabbed her lead from the back of the kitchen door. The destruction of the flat could wait, it was more important to breathe air that hadn’t been contaminated by excrement.
Chapter 1 (#u7019cb4f-9b3e-5646-94f6-37c809c4000a)
One month earlier…
‘No offence Eve, but I don’t like your ideas for the hen party.’
Any sentence that starts off with the words, ‘No offence’ could surely only ever result in the other person being immediately and instinctively offended, Eve thought. And how on earth did Tanya know what her plans even were as they were meant to be top secret? Every subject line of every email Eve had sent about the hen do had said so. In capitals. As if she had read Eve’s mind, Tanya followed up with, ‘Maggie forwarded me the emails.’
Maggie. Eve should have known. One of Tanya’s work colleagues, who Eve had not yet had the pleasure of meeting, had Replied All to every message, finding fault with each element.
‘I mean, a roller disco? What were you thinking Eve?’
‘We used to love the roller disco!’
‘When we were at university! I do not want to turn up to my wedding in a plaster cast!’
‘So I guess that you don’t want to go zorbing either?’
‘No, Eve, I do not. Honestly, I thought that you of all people would be able to come up with something original, fun, and safe for us all to do. It’s meant to be in three weeks’ time!’
‘What do you mean, me of all people?’
‘You work for a wedding magazine, Eve! If anyone should be able to pull a fantastic hen do out of a hat, it should be you.’
‘To be fair Tanya, it’s taken flippin’ ages to get everyone to confirm if they can come or not, then everyone had a different idea about what it was they wanted to do – you’d already vetoed any kind of cocktail-making, naked male bodies and making things.’
‘How many cocktail-making hen parties have you been to?’ Eve didn’t say so out loud, but Tanya had a point. ‘And I’m going to be looking at Luke’s naked body for the rest of my life, I don’t particularly want to see another one on my hen do.’
‘Which is why I made the plan I did, there’s not a cocktail or a penis in sight.’
Eve’s colleague, Kat, the magazine’s beauty director who sat at the adjacent desk to Eve’s, raised a pencilled-on eyebrow at hearing Eve’s last sentence.
Tanya wouldn’t let up. ‘So out of everything else in the world we could do, you chose roller disco and zorbing?’
‘And a meal out; believe me, finding a restaurant that would cater for a vegan, a coeliac, a lactose-intolerance, a shellfish allergy and two nut allergies, was pretty bloody difficult. You have very tricky friends.’
‘Yes, Maggie told me that you’ve booked a Lebanese place. I hate Middle Eastern food.’
‘Hate’s a pretty strong word Tanya, how can you hate an entire continent’s cuisine? I’m sure there’ll be something you’ll like.’
‘I doubt it.’
