The Wedding that Changed Everything: a gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy. Jennifer Joyce
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my nose.
The corners of Alice’s lips have turned down and she sighs. ‘He was one of my best friends growing up, but he feels like a stranger now.’
‘He couldn’t have been that good a friend if he didn’t believe you about the necklace.’ I wasn’t even at the castle at the time, yet I know Alice didn’t take it.
Alice shakes her head. ‘Tom believed me. He stuck by me, with Carolyn and Archie. They were the only ones who did.’
‘Then what happened to drive a wedge between you?’
But Alice doesn’t answer. Her smile is back on her face, as though she’s rebooted her settings. ‘There’s Archie!’ She points ahead. ‘Let’s go!’
I groan as she grabs my hand and starts to tow me through the crowds once more, but at least it’s at a much slower pace this time.
The barman is wielding a cocktail shaker as I approach, the ice cubes rattling and the liquid sloshing as he jiggles it in the air. There’s already a pair of glasses set out on the bar in front of the guy who helped me with the suitcases, which the barman fills with the red liquid before adding a maraschino cherry to garnish.
‘That looks delicious.’ I lean against the bar in an attempt to take the weight off my aching feet. We’ve traipsed back and forth across the ballroom in search of the elusive Archie but have yet to locate him. I feel like I’m taking part in an interactive Where’s Wally? Alice was not impressed when I made the comparison.
‘It’s a Poison Apple,’ he tells me before taking a sip. His eyebrows lift once he’s swallowed. ‘It’s pretty potent stuff, actually. Wow.’ He grins at me and I smile back, trying not to laugh as he eyes the glass with great suspicion before taking another – tiny – sip. ‘Can I get one for you to try?’
‘Why not?’ I was going to go for another blood orange margarita, but this looks much more enticing. ‘Can I get two, please?’
‘Thirsty?’ he asks once he’s placed the order with the barman.
‘The other’s for my friend.’ I’d finally convinced Alice to pause the search for Wally (aka Archie) to grab some drinks, so I can’t turn up empty-handed. ‘What about you?’ I point at the second drink waiting on the bar.
‘For my aunt.’ He picks up the glass. ‘I should get this to her. She isn’t the most patient of people. But maybe we’ll bump into each other again?’ He starts to move away, but turns to face me again. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’
‘It’s Emily,’ I say as the barman places a couple of martini glasses on the bar.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Emily.’ He smiles warmly at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I’m Archie.’
‘You can call off the search,’ I tell Alice as I pass her a Poison Apple cocktail. ‘I’ve found him.’
‘You found Archie? Where?’ Alice is on her tiptoes, eyes searching the room.
‘At the bar. He recommended these.’ I lift up my glass before taking a sip. Wowsers. I’ll be squiffy after half a glass.
‘But where is he now?’
I shrug. ‘With his aunt somewhere.’
‘Oh.’ Alice returns to her normal, non-tiptoe height. ‘That’ll be Francelia. There’s no point in disturbing him if he’s busy.’ She takes a large sip of her drink and doesn’t even bat an eyelid at the strength. ‘What did you think of Archie? He’s cute, right?’
‘Hmm.’ I shrug. ‘I guess.’
He is good-looking – especially in his tailored suit – but I know Alice will pounce if I even hint that he’s an attractive member of the opposite sex. She’d up her game. Hunt him down and make sure there was a firm introduction, where every single bit of salient information was exchanged: ages, job titles, hopes for the future, whether marriage and children are on the cards. I’ve been there before – and mortifying doesn’t come close to describing the experience – and I’m not keen to return.
‘He’s such a sweetie, honestly. When all that “stolen necklace” nonsense happened, he stuck up for me, going against Francelia and everything. He knew I wouldn’t do something like that and he wasn’t afraid of saying so. Shows great strength and loyalty, don’t you think?’
‘I guess.’ I take another sip of my drink. I wonder if Alice’s meddling would seem less annoying if I downed the lot in one go…
‘And he isn’t like Francelia at all. You wouldn’t even think they’re related.’
‘I suppose not.’ Archie didn’t seem to possess the same iciness as his aunt, but then I’ve only encountered him briefly.
‘So? What do you think?’ Alice leans in close to me, one hand on her chest, breath held.
‘I think I’d quite liked to get drunk on these cocktails.’
Alice sighs, her hand slipping back down to her side. ‘We had a deal, remember? You have to take this seriously.’
‘Sorry.’ Not sorry. ‘I will take it seriously. Very seriously. But I can’t promise to fall head over heels for him. We might not be compatible at all. You can’t force that kind of thing.’
‘I know.’ Alice takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘But don’t worry, honey. There are plenty more fish in the ballroom. Your Prince Charming is here somewhere, and we’ll find him. Trust me.’
Alice sweeps me around the room, introducing me to eligible bachelor after eligible bachelor, each seeming more weird or pompous than the last. My feet are aching and I’m in dire need of a Poison Apple top-up, but there’s no stopping my friend in her mission to pair me up. We’ve devised a clever code, so as not to hurt any feelings – Alice’s idea, not mine – where Alice, after initiating a little get-to-know-you session between us, will ask if I’d like a drink. If I say, ‘no, I’m fine, thanks’, I’m giving the guy the thumbs up and Alice will slink away. If I say, ‘yes, let’s go to the bar!’, I’m giving a definite thumbs down and off we toddle.
Alice isn’t deterred in the slightest that I’ve rejected each and every one of them.
We’ve yet to make it back to the bar, though.
‘You have got to meet my second cousin, Owen. He’s a little camp, but if you believe the gossip, he’s totally into women and isn’t lacking in that department.’ Alice doesn’t even have to tug on my hand; I’ve become completely resigned to her mission and stopped fighting it several eligible bachelors ago. My aim for the evening is to play along with her meet and greets, ignoring my poor, throbbing feet, until I can feign exhaustion and crawl into bed.
‘Alice!’ Before we can make it to Owen – who, I can already tell, even from a distance, is way more than a little camp – we’re derailed by Francelia. I never thought I’d be so glad to see the woman, but she’s like my guardian angel, swooping in to save me from another matchmaking attempt. ‘Have you seen Carolyn? She’s had a little tiff with Piers, apparently, and I need to make sure they smooth things over. Nothing is going to ruin this wedding after all the effort I’ve put in.’
‘I haven’t seen her.’ Alice starts to wring her hands while her eyes dart around the crowded room. ‘What was the row about? Nothing major, I hope?’
Francelia throws her hands up in the air. ‘Goodness knows! You know how dramatic your sister can be.’
‘Carolyn isn’t…’ Alice starts to say, but Francelia isn’t listening. She sighs and brings a hand up to rest on her unnaturally smooth forehead.
‘Do you