The wedding itself is taking place in a nearby church this morning, and then guests are coming here for the reception, and while Laura and her fiancé get married, the rest of the Ever After Street team have come to set out the wedding buffet. There’s no vehicle access to the castle, so Darcy lent me a wheelbarrow to push up the many, many boxes of cakes. Ali has brought wheeled trolleys from his restaurant, and Mickey and Lissa are weighed down with bags containing stacks of filled Tupperware.
The reception is taking place in one of the ballrooms and Laura wants all the food set out as a buffet for guests to help themselves to. The dancefloor is at one end of the giant room, the guest tables are in the middle, set out with lacy tablecloths and vases of roses, and place cards for all the coming guests. The bride and groom and both sets of parents have one long table of their own, and the buffet tables are at the opposite end, furthest away from the door.
Bram’s at the wedding this morning, and I wonder if he’s as tired as I am. After a lot more kissing last night, it was past 3 a.m. when he walked me home, and I was absolutely right about not being able to sleep after he left, except this time it was because my whole body was fizzing with tingly excitement. Because, for the first time in a long time, everything felt right with the world, and I probably dozed off about an hour before my alarm went. But every moment of last night was a thousand per cent worth every gallon of coffee I have to guzzle today.
I wouldn’t know where to start with setting out a buffet, but Ali is an expert. He allocates a table for sandwiches and savoury foods, a table for cakes, and a table for nibbles and snacks. He’s brought tons of silver platters, and as Witt and Darcy put the finishing touches to the décor, Sadie, Mickey, Lissa, and Marnie form a chain of passing boxes to each other, while Ali and I arrange things nicely on the vintage serving wear the castle has in abundance, and by the time we’ve finished, there’s the noise and chatter of the first guests starting to arrive.
The others duck out a side door, but I’ve left my wheelbarrow in the entrance hall, so I retrace my steps to collect that, and as I exit the ballroom, I walk headfirst into Mr Hastings’ enormous chest.
‘Ahh, Miss Jordan, just who I was looking for.’
Despite the more human side I saw the other night, there’s something about his drawling voice that fills me with dread. Whereas Bram fills a room with light, Mr Hastings has the same impact as a cloud crossing the sun, and I’m instantly on edge, despite the fact I’ve done what he wanted me to. Between all of us, we have somehow catered this wedding.
‘Me?’ I gulp then repeat the question in a less squeaky voice.
‘Yes. I wanted to say a resounding thank you for all your hard work. I must admit that when I offered you this challenge, I had my doubts, but fair play to you, you’ve come through for my family when we needed you.’
A dark-haired woman who I’m guessing is Mrs Hastings is with him, her hand through his arm, and she smiles kindly at me with twinkly brown eyes just like Bram’s.
God only knows what they think of me. I didn’t intend to be seen. I’m not here as a guest and I’m certainly not dressed as one. I’ve got on food-dye-stained jeans and a T-shirt with a hole under the armpit, because as soon as I’ve set out the buffet, Bram’s given me his spare key and left the recipe for the mini Unbirthday cakes in his kitchen and I’m going to try making them.
‘Laura is absolutely delighted,’ Mr Hastings is saying. ‘And I’ve just had a little look-see myself, and it looks like a wholly professional job, and Abraham assures me that it will all taste as good as it looks. I’m not a man who goes back on my word, Miss Jordan, so I’m delighted to offer you the tearoom lease on an eighteen-month rolling contract. Congratulations.’
He reaches out to shake my hand and when I’m too surprised to respond instantly, he takes my hand and shakes it without waiting for permission.
I didn’t expect this at all. Not today, not before anyone has even eaten any of the food we’ve made, and I mouth at thin air like a stranded goldfish a few times before any words come out. ‘Oh, wow. Thank you. Thank you very much.’
Why am I one quiff away from sounding like Elvis Presley? Mr Hastings is still pumping my hand up and down so hard that it’s like he’s shaking around the thoughts in my brain and jumbling them all up. I know this was the deal he made, but I still expected him to change his mind or put up more hurdles, and I don’t know what to say…
Except that I thought this moment would feel euphoric, but it feels like a bit of a hollow victory. I haven’t catered this wedding. There’s no way in hell that I could have, but we have managed it, between Bram and me and all our friends on Ever After Street, it’s us who have done it. It feels like I’ve conned him in some way, like I’m taking credit for everyone else’s work when I shouldn’t be, even though everyone knew that the whole point of doing this was to help me get the tearoom.
I feel a bit… wrong. Like I did after the interview when the only thing that swung it for me was the rose cupcakes that I let them believe I’d made. I’ve got what I wanted, but I don’t feel like I deserve it.
Mr Hastings finally lets go of my hand, and waves a stern finger at me. ‘You make sure you don’t give that pesky inspector anything to concern himself with, okay?’
‘Of course not.’ I paste on a smile. Is this the catch? Is this the niggling feeling I have in the pit of my stomach that something is about to go horribly, horribly wrong?
‘Now, no more work today, it’s a day to celebrate my daughter’s happiness.’ He gives me a nod and goes to drag his wife away, but I stop him.
‘Mr Hastings?’ I wait for him to turn back towards me. ‘Thank you for sending Bram to work with me. I think your son is the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. He makes the world a better place. A brighter, happier, funnier place. None of this would’ve happened without him. He deserves to be loved for who he is, even if you don’t always approve of his choices. There are worse things a child can do than not follow your path in life. You should be very proud.’
Mr Hastings frowns, probably not wanting the reminder of his candidness the other night, but clearly getting the insinuation and the fact it’s none of my business, but Mrs Hastings looks like she can’t stop her smile getting wider.
She extracts her arm from his and reaches out to shake my hand. ‘Bram’s told us a lot about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. I look forward to getting to know you better and can’t wait to try this wonderful buffet. Mrs Willetts has been raving about your rose cupcakes for weeks.’
Oh, those. ‘There won’t be any of—’
‘Come along, dear, we mustn’t loiter, guests are wanting to get in.’ Mr Hastings doesn’t let me finish my feeble explanation about the lack of rose cupcakes. ‘I’ll stop by with the paperwork this week, Miss Jordan. Cheerio.’
I take it for what it is – a dismissal, and that’s fine, because someone could’ve tripped over my unattended wheelbarrow by now.
I hurry through the hall towards where I left it when Bram catches hold of my arm and pulls me aside. ‘’ello.’
‘There’s a wheelbarrow.’ I jerk my head in the direction I was heading.
‘Darcy’s already taken it.’
‘Oh thank God. The bride landing arse over teakettle in a wheelbarrow is a previously unknown wedding tradition that we don’t need to start.’ I finally look up at him and every thought disappears from my mind instantly. ‘Wow. You look incredible.’
He’s blushing as I take in his grey suit, white shirt, red tartan waistcoat and shiny grey tie that looks like it’s been gradually loosened over the course of the morning. ‘So do you.’
‘I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt!’
‘Exactly.’ He grins, and it’s almost impossible not to kiss him, but there are people around us. Witt and Sadie are checking in coats and directing people to the bathrooms. People are admiring the castle. The suits of armour. The portraits of Witt’s family that he’s recently had restored. We get bumped into by a woman who’s looking up at the mural-painted ceiling and not at where she’s going, and then gives us a glare for being in the way.
Bram leans down and whispers, ‘But more importantly than that, I hear a celebration is in order.’
‘How’d you know that?’ I look at him in surprise.
‘I’ve just shared a car with my father. He told me what he was about to do. Come with me.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, firstly because I really need to kiss you but there’s cousins, aunts, uncles, and God-only-knows-what-relations everywhere who interrogate me about my love life at every family gathering, and if they catch me snogging you then I’m never going to hear the end of it, and secondly because I’m not the only one who’s over all the moons in the Milky Way that you’re joining Ever After Street on a more permanent basis. This way.’ His hand slips down my arm until he entwines our fingers and gives me a firm tug towards the stairs, but skirts around them to where there’s a door underneath, the entrance to the staff kitchen. Instead of going in, he shuffles us until we’re mostly out of sight under the stairs, and then slips his arm around my waist and leans down for a hug. It’s brief and I can tell he’s hyperaware of being spotted, and when he pulls back, he touches his lips to mine for the briefest peck.
There are footsteps outside our little nook and he steps back and laces our fingers together again and pushes open the door, and I’m immediately greeted by the burning smell of a party popper bursting and a chorus of people shouting, ‘Congratulations!’
‘Welcome to Ever After Street!’ Marnie calls. ‘For real! For good!’
