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The Wedding Planner: A heartwarming feel good romance perfect for spring!
The Wedding Planner: A heartwarming feel good romance perfect for spring!
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The Wedding Planner: A heartwarming feel good romance perfect for spring!

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‘I’m bloody-well not admitting to anything,’ Gloria stated. ‘Shit,’ she added when she realised she’d sworn. With a deep sigh, she dived into her bag, withdrew a fiver, held it up to Kate with a ‘Satisfied now?’ expression and rammed it into the jar.

‘Anyhoo … back to why I asked you all here?’ Emma said.

Three heads turned from the swear jar back to Emma.

‘Jake and I have been talking about our wedding and we’ve made—’ she paused dramatically, ‘a decision!’

‘Don’t tell me you’ve finally come up with a date?’ Kate asked.

‘No,’ Emma said, raising her glass triumphantly and grinning from ear to ear as she added, ‘I want you all to be my bridesmaids.’

Juliet glanced up to the resplendent chandelier hanging from the ceiling to check that hers and Kate’s ear-piercing, eye-watering squeal of excitement hadn’t shattered the glass before she legged it round the bar to hug Emma, only beating Kate by a second.

Jumping up and down in a group hug, thinking how she now had the perfect project to help take her mind off the subject of pregnancy, it took Juliet a moment to realise one person was missing from the group hug.

Opening her eyes her gaze bounced straight to Gloria’s and got caught up in the hypnotic slow-blinking of the huge cat-shaped orbs. She looked utterly gobsmacked.

‘Gloria?’ Emma finally turned around, realising also that she hadn’t joined the hug. ‘What about it? Will you be one of my bridesmaids?’

Gloria’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, in time with the slow blink of her eyes.

Move Juliet silently commanded using her best Jedi mind-control voice.

Come and hug your friend who’s just asked you to be a part of her special day.

‘Gloria?’ Emma asked again, a nervous, embarrassed thread present in her voice now.

This is not a drill, Juliet tried to convey.

Her expression part bemused, part horrified, Gloria asked, ‘And it has to be bridesmaid at a wedding? I can’t be bridesmaid for something else?’

‘Yes, silly,’ Emma laughed. ‘Specifically my wedding. What do you say?’

Into the shocked silence, Juliet watched Kate push the swear jar towards Gloria.

Chapter 5 (#ulink_2b374804-bddd-5c0c-9497-12ac91d42ce5)

Village of the Damned (#ulink_2b374804-bddd-5c0c-9497-12ac91d42ce5)

Gloria

She was being punished.

That was what this was.

A bridesmaid???

Well, if that didn’t categorically prove Karma was a bitch.

She glanced to the stupid swear jar which was already a quarter full damn it – wait, ‘damn’ wasn’t a swear word was it? Crap. It was. She might as well write an IOU for a gazillion pounds and be done with it. Chewing on her bottom lip to stop more four letter words from forming, she rubbed at a spot on the already gleaming surface of the bar.

What on earth had possessed Emma to ask her?

What on earth had possessed her to agree?

Since when was she that person – the one who succumbed to peer pressure?

But as Emma, Juliet, and even Kate, had all turned to stare at her expectantly, she’d felt something inside of her, jumping up and down, waving its hands in the air screaming, ‘Ooh, ooh, pick me, pick me …’

Acceptance.

Something she’d wanted for the longest time.

The next thing she’d known she’d been uttering the words, ‘Oh, sod it, then,’ and awkwardly moving forward to hug Emma.

Pitiful, she thought with a shake of her head as she picked up the pitcher of milk and quietly moved across the back of Cocktails & Chai to put it down on the table where she’d set out coffee and tea for after the village meeting currently in session.

Mary, the school chaplain, was addressing the gathered residents but darned if Gloria could make out what it was about.

‘Speak up,’ she wanted to shout. Speak up and drown out this racing uncertainty Emma had only asked so that the token ‘bitchy bridesmaid’ role was filled, because not to get too technical, but the whole point of working so hard on herself lately was to be, you know, less bitchy.

Creeping back to her place behind the bar, she stowed the swear jar on a shelf behind her and sighed. Had it really only been eight hours ago that Fortuna was assuring her she’d be fine?

At the opposite end of the large room, against the backdrop of what she’d used to think of as calming eau-de-nil paint, but in her current state only made her feel bilious, Crispin Harlow, head of Whispers Woods’ Residents Association, finally cut Mary off with an impatient, ‘Yes, thank you Mary, I’m sure we’re all pleased the school’s pet goldfish will be getting new companions at the start of the school year. Let me know what the children decide to name them and I’ll announce it at the next meeting.’

Wow.

Gloria broke her village meeting rule with an exceptionally satisfying eye-roll. Seriously, the school’s goldfish getting friends to form a school of their own? Hardly, Hold the Front Page news, was it?

To combat the frustration of having to be present while this was discussed she imagined breaking into the school, stealing all the naming cards for the new goldfish and filling them all out with her own suggestions of: Dick and Fanny.

Thinking it through though she realised that to make the cards look authentic she’d have to write in lots of different handwriting styles, and use a lot of different pens … so much hard work. Not to mention making sure Persephone didn’t rumble her, and use that ‘disappointed’ expression like she had when Gloria had asked her teacher to write her an essay on why the urban dictionary was no substitute for an actual dictionary when it came to putting proper words on the children’s homework spelling list.

Reaching forward she turned a copy of the agenda towards her to see what other thrilling topics the village was going to discuss ad infinitum that evening.

As a way of disseminating gossip quicker than rural broadband speed, Crispin’s village meetings were unsurpassable. She’d even used the forum herself, she remembered, wincing at how she’d stood up in one of the meetings last summer and told everyone assembled just who newcomer Daniel Westlake had formerly associated himself with.

She was lucky Daniel had a forgiving nature.

These days, whenever it was her turn to be key-holder for the meeting, the first thing she did after turning the giant clock back ten minutes to ensure everyone arrived on time, was to swipe a stack of Post-it notes from Daniel’s desk in the co-working office space he ran from the top floor of the clock house and write her village meeting mantra: less speaking, more smiling and absolutely NO rolling of the eyes.

She looked under the bar now to the scribbled Post-its (other sticky notes are available at Hive @ The Clock House) and stifled the sigh.

As Crispin started rambling on, she tried to pay attention but within moments all she could think was how on earth was she going to pull off the role of bridesmaid? Didn’t they have to be supportive, and involved and, oh joy, wear one of those dresses in floaty pastel?

Of course the minute the deal had been sealed with the hugging, it had started … The first conversation of no doubt millions, in which she’d quickly realised, she was a) not supposed to want to escape, and b) expected to participate positively in.

‘When’s the date, then?’ Juliet had immediately wanted to know.

‘Yes,’ Kate had said. ‘Because we’ll have to close this place, or are you getting married at the Hall?’

‘Surely it will be at the Hall,’ Juliet had answered on Emma’s behalf. ‘There’s probably some sort of tradition or something?’

‘Or church,’ Kate had said, looking at Emma. ‘Are you thinking the whole big church wedding?’

Gloria had shuddered at the thought of having to step foot inside a church again. Nervously she’d glanced across to Emma, who looked how she felt, out of her depth and completely overwhelmed.

‘Um …’ Emma had trailed off and then bravely admitted, ‘we haven’t set the actual date yet. We’re waiting until we find the perfect one, where everyone’s free. Mum’s on another cruise and we don’t know when Jake’s oldest brother Marcus is planning to come back.’

‘But surely Seth is Jake’s best man,’ Gloria had squawked indignantly. After all, out of the six Knightleys, he was the only one here supporting Jake’s plans for the Hall.

Three pairs of intelligent, knowing eyes turned to her.

Bugger.

Why had she had to go and mention Seth like she was invested or something?

‘Jake’s asking Seth right now,’ Emma had assured. ‘But—’

‘Look, I know it must be like herding cats getting all the brothers and sisters in the same place at the same time, but isn’t it more important for you to get the date you two want?’ The words had tumbled out of Gloria’s mouth as she remembered receiving the list of suitable dates that Bob’s mother had issued for their wedding.

‘Or, if you don’t know the date yet,’ Kate had interrupted, ‘what season do you want? You could have a winter wedding. Ooh, I’ve always wanted a winter wedding.’

‘Winter?’ Emma wrinkled her nose. ‘I think I’m more—’

‘Absolutely,’ Juliet had instantly agreed, assessing Emma, ‘with your blonde hair, I’m thinking summer or autumn. That’s only a year away – will that give you enough time to plan?’

A year?

As in three hundred and sixty five days of wedding stuff?

Shoot me now, Gloria had thought, and announced, ‘I think you should do it as soon as possible.’

When they stared like she was the font of all wedding knowledge, it had occurred to her that, technically, she was. She was certainly the only one out of the four of them who had organised a wedding and been married.

The nausea had become more pronounced as she’d mumbled, ‘If you spend too much time planning, everything about the day gets blown out of proportion and you lose sight of the fact it’s to celebrate your union rather than pulling off the perfect party.’

There’d been shocked silence and then Kate had murmured, ‘Actually, she has a point.’

‘She has a name and thank you,’ Gloria had said, with a nod, the nausea abating somewhat.

‘To be honest for now I’m just happy to have organised the bridal party,’ Emma had said.

Gloria had looked at Emma’s dreamy expression that suggested a definite lack of feeling the need – the need for speed – and had asked herself how much she really want to be accepted by these women?

‘So let’s ask Gloria,’ Crispin’s voice suddenly boomed across the room.

At the sound of her name she shot up from behind the bar where she’d been quietly rummaging in her bag for those handy stress balls she’d taken from Fortuna’s office. ‘Huh?’ she responded, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes so that she could eye the agenda.

Tonight’s meeting was supposed to be about the infrastructure for the Beer Festival. Now that Whispers Wood had reactivated their summer fetes, this year the village had voted on moving it to autumn to tie-in with the local micro-brewery who’d won some sort of award.

She thought Kate had submitted The Clock House’s ideas when she’d realised the meeting conflicted with Thursday Night Dinner at her mum, Sheila’s. Emma was with Jake no doubt celebrating that they’d made one wedding decision and Juliet had been whisked out for dinner by Oscar after Gloria had snuck out to find him and mention he might want to spoil Juliet that evening.

It wasn’t butting in, she’d told herself. It was making sure two people she sort of liked made time to talk about what was going on because once the talking stopped it usually meant you were completely unpractised at it when the big stuff hit the fan.

‘So, how about it, Gloria,’ Crispin asked, ‘are you going to enlighten us?’

‘Pretzels,’ she said, looking around the room. At the blank stares she added a confident nod. ‘You all know we stock the micro-brewery’s Whispers Wrangler. We had a think about what goes with beer and came up with pretzels. Sheila’s going to cook up huge batches and presto: a Beer and Pretzels tent from The Clock House.’

‘Yes. I have you down for the pretzels but I was asking about the other thing?’ Crispin repeated.

There was another thing?

What other thing?

She certainly couldn’t tell him what she thought about the bridesmaid thing.

She couldn’t tell anyone.

Besides, it was going to be fine.

It had to be.

She could survive without imploding, or worse, exploding all over Emma and Jake’s Big Day.

‘Gloria?’

‘Wow—yes?’ Gloria blinked rapidly, tipping her head to the side on the off chance her own Big Day wedding montage would simply fall right out of her head. Just because Emma and Jake’s wedding was going to be the first wedding in Whispers Wood, since, well, hers … ‘What?’ she said grumpily.

Crispin gave her eye-rolling a run for its money and lifted his hand impatiently, ‘Can you shed some light onto the proceedings?’

‘The pretzel proceedings?’ She stood behind the safety of the bar, caught in the glare provided by some of the residents as they turned to stare at her. Unable to take it, she glanced upwards, straight into the large sparkly chandelier. The one with the ridiculous fairytale attached to it. The one responsible for making her think about Seth Knightley in a light which, if it ever got out and saw the light of day, she’d have to disavow all knowledge of, and leave Whispers Wood in the middle of the night, never to return.

‘You know Gloria,’ Crispin said, his voice exasperated, ‘after all that Whispers Wood has done for you I don’t think it’s too much to ask you to share your intel.’

Intel?

‘I know you’re in the know,’ Crispin declared.

‘The know?’

‘As if you wouldn’t be – what with being Emma’s bridesmaid.’

Gloria’s mouth dropped open. Everyone knew already? There would be no graceful backing-out? Not that Gloria had the first clue as to what constituted graceful. Should have studied ballet like that Arabella Jones.

Yanking up the agenda for the meeting, she pointed to it. ‘There’s nothing listed here about Emma and Jake and their wedding. How did you find out?’

‘Felix heard it from Sheila who I believe got it from Cheryl who told Mrs. Harlow when they met in Big Kev’s corner shop earlier this afternoon.’