The Wedding that Changed Everything Read online

  ‘Alice.’ I hold up a hand to silence my friend as she continues to go on about tomorrow’s shopping trip. ‘I’m not entirely comfortable about gatecrashing your sister’s wedding. I barely know Carolyn. I’ve only met her a handful of times!’

  ‘That’s a handful more times than I’ve met her,’ Kevin – unhelpfully – calls from the kitchen.

  Alice and I both decide to ignore him.

  ‘You won’t be gatecrashing anything.’ Alice picks up the invitation from where I’d shoved it on the coffee table during the lovers’ tiff in the kitchen. ‘You’ve been invited.’ She waggles the invite at me. ‘Besides, it’s the perfect place for you to meet your Prince Charming.’

  Alice is grinning. I am not.

  ‘My Prince Charming? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your perfect guy. Your Mr Right. Whatever you want to call him.’ Alice gives a wave of her hand. ‘Weddings are the perfect place to meet men, and this one is taking place in a castle.’ Alice leaves that hanging in the air for a moment, as though she’s just played her ace card.

  I pluck the invitation from her fingers and frisbee it back towards the coffee table. ‘Meet my Prince Charming?’ Ugh. The idea alone makes me itch. ‘I’m not some feeble little princess waiting to be rescued. I’m a strong, independent woman.’

  ‘Except when you need me to catch spiders,’ Kevin calls – again unhelpfully – from the kitchen. I swear to God…

  Deep breaths, Emily. Ignore him. Concentrate on Alice and this ridiculous notion of being rescued by a man.

  ‘How can you call yourself a feminist with this attitude?’

  Alice looks at me, one eyebrow quirked. ‘I buy underwear for a living so women can look hot for the opposite sex. We may claim it’s about empowering women and all that tosh, but it’s for the menfolk. I ask myself that question every single day.’ Alice throws up her hands. ‘I haven’t found the answer yet. Besides, I need rescuing. I don’t want to go to this wedding on my own. It’s a whole week, Emily. A whole week with that woman telling me I’m useless and a disappointment and a thief.’

  ‘A what?’ Why on earth would Francelia accuse Alice of being a thief?

  Alice rolls her eyes and gives a wave of her hand. ‘It’s a long story. Not important. The important part is she’s going to make my life a misery for the whole week.’ She adopts a snarky tone to say, ‘If you haven’t found yourself a boyfriend by now, it’s probably too late.’

  ‘There’s a solution for that last one,’ Kevin calls.

  ‘Shut up!’ Alice and I shout. She turns her focus back on me, taking both my hands in hers.

  ‘Please, Emily.’ Her eyes are wide, her lips slightly quivering. ‘Please don’t leave me to deal with Francelia on my own.’

  I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to spend a week at this castle, surrounded by love and romance and the promise of happily ever afters. I want to stay here, where it’s safe. Where I can snuggle up on the sofa with Carrot purring on my chest while I watch crappy, comforting TV.

  ‘Carrot,’ I say, almost jumping out of my seat as I’m jolted by the realisation. By the ‘get out of jail free’ card. ‘We can’t leave Carrot here on his own. Who’ll feed him? Let him outside? Keep him company?’

  ‘Kevin will.’ Alice is quick as a flash with her answer. There’s no hesitation. No pondering. How long has she been planning this?

  ‘Excuse me?’ Kevin is at the living room door now, a mixture of outrage and bemusement on his face. ‘I’ll do what?’

  ‘You’ll stay here and look after Carrot.’ Alice pouts at her boyfriend and I swear to God she’s fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Won’t you? Pretty please?’

  ‘So let me get this straight.’ Kevin steps into the room, standing in front of Alice with his arms folded. ‘You two go off and spend a week in a luxurious castle, having fun and getting pissed on champagne, and I have to stay here like Cinderella?’

  ‘I wouldn’t quite put it like that…’

  ‘I would.’

  Alice pulls Kevin down onto her lap, winding her arms around his waist and resting her cheek on his chest. ‘I will love you for ever and ever if you do.’

  Kevin sighs and I know the git is going to crack. ‘Fine. I’ll stay here and look after Carrot. My flatmate’s doing my head in playing his grime at top volume anyway. It’ll be a nice break.’

  ‘So you’re just going to throw me to the lions, Cinders?’ I glare at the spineless toad. I know I can just say no to Alice, refuse to go to this stupid wedding, but I also know I won’t. Alice is my best friend and I won’t leave her at the mercy of Francelia and her vicious tongue. Alice has always been there for me, especially over the past year, so I have to be there for her too.

  ‘If I’m Cinderella,’ Kevin says as he hops up off Alice’s lap and wanders towards the door, ‘does that make you two the ugly sisters?’

  He has the good sense to duck as two cushion missiles fly his way.

  Chapter Four

  So, I’ve agreed to accompany Alice to her sister’s wedding. We’ve shopped for new outfits (there was no way Alice was paying for mine, no matter how much she insisted) and agreed that Alice will drive us to the castle in Little Heaton. The journey is just over an hour and I plan to sit back and relax while taking full control of the music choices. My suitcase is zipped up and sitting on the end of my bed, but I can’t bring myself to pick it up and carry it downstairs to the car.

  What am I doing? I know I’m tagging along for Alice’s benefit, but I feel sick at the thought of leaving my comfort zone. The past year has been a tumult of change with the break-up and everything, and now it finally feels as though my life is settling down again. If I pick up my case, if I take it downstairs and drag it to the boot of Alice’s car, I’ll be stepping into the unknown. I know Alice is determined to find my ‘Prince Charming’ at this castle, but I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is right now, and I don’t want anything to send it off kilter again.

  ‘Do you need a hand with that?’ Alice has stopped outside my bedroom and is nodding towards the suitcase. She has her own suitcase, plus the teddy bear that still sleeps in her bed tucked under her arm.

  ‘Are you seriously taking Hubert?’ I sit down on the bed, as far away from my case as possible.

  ‘Of course.’ Alice drops a kiss on the sparse fur on Hubert-the-bear’s head. ‘Hubert comes everywhere with me. But don’t worry, he knows you’ve bagsied the front passenger seat.’ Alice smiles at me, but I don’t return the gesture. ‘Everything okay, honey?’

  I nod, even though it isn’t.

  ‘I know you’re not all that keen on coming to the wedding, but I do think you’ll have a great time once you’re there.’ Alice steps into my bedroom and sits down next to me on the bed. ‘Carolyn and I spent every summer and Christmas at the castle when we were growing up and we had so much fun. Carolyn wants to recreate that time and has loads of activities planned for the week. Plus, you’re a history nut and Durban Castle was built in Tudor times or something.’

  I am intrigued by the castle and its history, but still.

  ‘And weddings are the perfect place to meet men.’ Alice says this as though it’s a good thing. ‘We can find you your happily ever after, I just know it.’

  ‘But that’s the thing, Alice. I don’t believe in happily ever afters. Haven’t for a long time.’

  ‘But you did, once upon a time.’ Alice is looking at me funny, sort of frowning and with her lips pursed. She hands Hubert to me and pushes herself up onto her feet before striding away. When she returns, she’s holding a pink, hardback book. Its familiar title and design glint at me as she moves across the room.

  I wrap my arms around Hubert and push my cheek into his fur. ‘Why do you have that?’

  ‘You believed in happily ever afters when you received this book,’ Alice says, not really answering the question.

  ‘I was six.’

  I can’t look at that book. I can’t face the mem
ories it catapults at me, one after the other. The joy, the wonder, and then the pain of knowing life would never be as simple or as jubilant as those tales. It was a birthday present from my parents and I’d loved it. Like Alice and her Hubert, I’d dragged that book everywhere with me. I’d devoured the pages, drinking in the images before I could read the words myself. I knew the words off by heart, knew the order of the tales, knew how each story made me feel as that six-year-old full of wonder.

  ‘Why do you have that?’ I ask again, my voice firm this time. There’s a hint of the anger I feel bubbling up inside, but I’ll try to control it. My anger isn’t aimed at Alice, not really.

  ‘I found it.’ Alice rubs a hand over a pale, yellowish-brown stain on one corner of the book. A new addition since I last saw it. The slightly charred edges are still there, reminding me how much I despise the book and everything it represents. ‘It was in the bin. I’d already scraped the leftover curry we’d had in there before I spotted it. Sorry.’

  I don’t know what she’s apologising for. Surely not for dropping curry on a book I’d tried to dispose of – twice. Why would I care if the book is stained? I wanted it gone. Destroyed. Perhaps that’s it. She’s apologising because it’s still here. Still in this house.

  ‘I couldn’t let you throw it away.’ Alice has opened the book now. ‘Not when I read the inscription.’ She holds the book out towards me, but I turn away. I don’t recall an inscription being in the book, but I don’t want to read whatever it says. It’ll only dredge up memories I’d rather keep locked away.

  Alice closes the book and sits down next to me on the bed. ‘I know how much you’re hurting. I’ve lost my mum too, remember?’

  The other thing that propelled Alice into finding me my perfect match a year ago, combined with my failed relationship with Edward and finding herself loved up with Kevin, was the death of my mother.

  ‘And I know that when we’re hurting we sometimes do things we regret.’

  ‘But I don’t regret it.’ I point at the book, but I can’t quite bring myself to focus on it. ‘I don’t want that thing.’ I didn’t want it a year ago, when I discovered it in the box of items from Mum’s house that Great Aunt Dorothy had sent over. Didn’t want it hanging around, reminding me of that brief time in my life when everything was perfect. Before everything changed. ‘How dare you retrieve it?’ The anger gurgles to the surface. I leap up from the bed, throwing poor Hubert down onto the duvet. ‘How dare you meddle in my life? First, pushing me to go on these stupid dates, and now this! It’s too much, Alice. Why can’t you just let me be?’

  ‘I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I know it’s different for me – my mum died when I was really little and I barely remember her – but I’d give anything to have a reminder of her. Dad got rid of everything when he married Francelia – all the photos, her perfume and jewellery, the cards she wrote for me and Carolyn. Said he wanted a fresh start.’ She stands up from the bed and places a hand on my shoulder. ‘I know you’re angry with me right now, but one day you’ll thank me for keeping hold of the book.’

  I roll my eyes, still not looking at it. ‘It’s a book of fairy tales, Alice.’

  ‘It’s more than that.’ Alice gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘The little girl who received this book believed in happily ever afters. You told me once that she used to dream of being rescued by the handsome prince. What happened to her?’

  I throw my shoulders back, dislodging Alice’s hand, and lift my chin slightly. ‘She grew up and realised life isn’t a fairy tale.’

  Alice crosses the room, stopping in front of my small bookcase. She squeezes the book of fairy tales into a gap at the end of the middle shelf. ‘I’ll do you a deal.’ Alice turns to face me again. ‘If you come to the wedding with an open mind and at least give the guys there a teeny chance, I’ll stop pestering you about finding a boyfriend once we get home.’

  We stare at each other across the room. I’m still angry, but it’s dying down now the book is no longer in my vision.

  ‘There’ll be no more pushing me to date when we get back?’

  Alice shakes her head. ‘I won’t mention it again.’

  We stare some more.

  Can I do this? Can I endure one week of intense Alice matchmaking (because that’s what this will turn into)? Can I get through it for the chance of being left to my own devices when we return?

  ‘Fine.’ I cross the room and stick out my hand. ‘You have yourself a deal.’

  Alice’s grin is wide as we shake on it. ‘You’re not going to regret this.’

  ‘We’ll see about that in a week’s time.’ I reach past Alice and slide the fairy tales book off the shelf.

  Alice looks stricken. ‘You’re not going to throw that away again, are you?’

  ‘What would be the point? You’ll only dig it out again with teabags and food stuck to it.’ Instead, I shove the book to the very back of my wardrobe, where I won’t have to face it on a daily basis.

  ‘Come on, Cinderella.’ Alice tucks Hubert back under her arm and hefts my suitcase off the bed. ‘You shall go to the ball!’

  I take the handle of my suitcase so Alice can trundle her own down the stairs. ‘I thought Kevin was Cinders?’

  ‘No way am I being an ugly sister. You, honey, are Cinderella, and I am your fairy godmother.’

  Chapter Five

  With our suitcases squeezed into the tiny boot of Alice’s sleek but impractical car, there’s an emotional goodbye between Alice and Kevin on our doorstep. I wait in the car, fingers firmly crossed that Alice will feel so guilty about leaving Poor Kevin (as I have taken to calling him in a bid to induce more guilt) behind that she’ll call the whole ‘let’s irritate the absolute crap out of Emily by matching her up with some god-awful people for a whole damn week’ thing off. Kevin and I will switch places and Carrot and I will wave them off.

  No such luck. Alice is blubbering, but she isn’t in family-issues-battling mode and she’s soon walking backwards towards the car, unable to tear her eyes away from her beloved. She plonks herself down in the driver’s seat, taking a moment to compose herself before strapping herself in and, giving one last wilted wave, setting off towards the M60.

  ‘You’re going to love Durban Castle,’ she tells me once she’s managed to stop the hiccupping her crying has caused. ‘It’s so gorgeous. It’s such a shame I haven’t been there in so long.’ She looks like she’s about to burst into tears again but manages to regain her composure and aims a watery smile at me. ‘It’s been in my family for generations, so Carolyn and I would spend every Christmas there and the summer holidays with my grandparents. My step-cousin would visit too, and we’d have adventures around the castle and its grounds together. There was always a quiz on Boxing Day, when other relatives would visit, and fireworks and a huge bonfire on New Year’s Eve. It was magical.’

  Alice’s smile brightens as her mind wanders back to her childhood. I wish I could do the same, but my childhood doesn’t have a great deal of happy memories to look back on fondly.

  ‘Granny and Grandpa were wonderful. So warm and fun. I miss them.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned the castle before.’ Which is odd, given my passion for the past. ‘I can’t wait to have a nose around and breathe in its history.’

  Alice reaches for the CD player, but I bat her hand away. We’ve agreed the music is my domain for the duration of our trip.

  ‘The castle’s still in my family,’ she tells me. ‘But when Uncle Ned inherited it, he turned it into a weddings and events venue, so we couldn’t have turned up for a nosy around. Which is why this week is perfect for us: you get to satisfy your nerdiness and I get to relive some fond memories.’

  An hour later, we’ve reached Little Heaton. It’s a picturesque village, almost cut in two by the canal running through it. Barges painted in bright greens, reds and blues sit on the water while ducks, swans and geese glide by. There’s an arched bridge up ahead, which we turn onto, crossin
g over the canal into the heart of the village. A memorial stands in the centre of the high street, with a terrace of shops on one side and a red-brick pub on the other, half covered in ivy. Ahead is a small church with a pointy steeple, its grounds filled with crumbling headstones.

  ‘Is that where Carolyn is getting married?’ I ask as we pass, but Alice shakes her head.

  ‘She’s getting married in the chapel, like Mum and Dad.’

  ‘The castle still has its own chapel? Is it original?’ For the first time, I’m genuinely quite excited about the week ahead.

  ‘I think so.’ Alice’s brow furrows. ‘I know Uncle Ned had to have the roof restored a couple of summers ago and it was apparently a nightmare trying to source original materials. Cost a fortune too.’

  My heart is bleeding for the poor rich man.

  We pass a primary school, its bright-yellow railings and play equipment jarring against the nineteenth-century building, another pub (this village is looking up), and lots of little, white-rendered cottages with pretty gardens that would give our neighbour a run for her money with their show-quality lawns and bursts of colour from the flowerbeds, window boxes and hanging baskets.

  We reach the end of the latest batch of cottages and turn into a clearing, with a blanket of buttercups and daisies thrown over fields either side of a narrow lane. The fields rise into a hill, upon which stands Durban Castle.

  ‘Wow,’ I say, my jaw practically hitting my lap.

  ‘Yes.’ Alice sighs happily. ‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’

  The narrow road winds up the gentle slope of the hill until we reach the castle’s curtain wall and a giant, arched gateway made of pale-grey stone. The castle, which I haven’t taken my eyes off during the short drive up the hill, is made of the same stone, and two flags flap in the breeze as they stand proudly on top of the keep. The gates are open, so we drive through, my jaw dropping more and more the closer we get to the castle.