‘I lost my job – so I agreed to help Freya out. We’ve been friends since primary school and she’s supported me through some difficult times so it was my turn to step up to the plate. I’d never met Marley, but I was happy to help so she could fly over to San Diego to be with her sister, and there was the added bonus of taking some time out to decide what I want to do next career-wise.’
Theo was now squinting at her and she could see the cogs turning slowly, cringing when the recognition slotted into place.
‘Oh my God! You’re Alexandra Harrington! The fashion show ice-bucket girl!’
‘Well, I wouldn’t quite put it like that…’
‘Now there’s a story and a half.’
‘And one which will have to wait for another day,’ she said as she pushed herself up from the chaise longue, grabbed her handbag and Marley’s clipboard and almost sprinted out of the door.
Chapter Seven
Lexie made her way along the gravelled footpath, back to the orangery to perform a final check before moving on to the next page of Marley’s itinerary headed ‘Garden Games’, her heart hammering against her ribcage like a steel drum. But as she stepped over the threshold into the recently renovated Victorian glasshouse, a whoosh of relief swept over her – the staging was perfect.
Everywhere she looked she saw a little piece of the Caribbean; from the potted palm trees dotted around the room, to the bird-of-paradise stems in over-sized fluted vases, to the colourful table linen, to the top-note of exotic perfume that wafted through the air. Shards of late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, dancing attendance on the crystal Champagne glasses and the silver cutlery. The heavy mahogany furniture of the manor house had been replaced by white bamboo tables and chairs which complemented the black and white checkerboard of the floor tiles perfectly. She was impressed by Marley’s resourcefulness, how she had pulled out all the stops to deliver Zara’s vision for her ‘overseas’ wedding in Cornwall.
When every item under the heading ‘Orangery – Daytime’ had a satisfying tick next to it, Lexie moved on to ‘Orangery – Evening’ and began checking the garlands of fairy-lights that clung to the eaves, the huge glass storm lanterns that would hold white cathedral candles, and the sound system for the disco. She had spoken to the DJ about Zara and Jason’s playlist – no prizes for guessing that their musical preferences included reggae, merengue and salsa.
Lexie’s lips twisted into a smile as she thought of Zara and Jason’s request that, for the evening reception, their guests were expected to change out of their wedding finery into Caribbean-inspired shirts and dresses. She couldn’t wait to see that – especially Nadia who was probably more of a Michael Bublé fan than a Bob Marley fan! She could just imagine the conversation that took place when she read that request on the invitation card!
As she checked the final item off the list, an unexpected splash of sadness filtered through Lexie’s chest and she slumped down into one of the chairs to catch her breath. From the moment she had discovered Elliot’s betrayal, she had fought to keep the details of her own wedding locked away, quashing any temptation to compare Zara’s choices with those of her own. It had been her dream, too, to exchange her vows on a white sandy beach somewhere exotic, surrounded by palm trees swaying gently in the breeze under the canopy of a cloudless sky. She’d hoped to be barefoot and wear an ankle-length dress made from the finest organza designed by her childhood friend, and a simple ring of white flowers in her hair.
Instead, Elliot’s choice had prevailed and she’d found herself agreeing to get married in a marquee erected on a field at his parents’ farm in Lancashire. Her future in-laws, Maggie and John, had been delighted to play host and had promised Lexie to make the venue as attractive as they could. From that moment on, Lexie had religiously taken the train up to the Lake District every fortnight to help with the arrangements, moved by their generosity and eagerness to ensure her wedding day was special.
She knew Maggie and John would have been devastated when they heard about the broken engagement and as she surveyed the splendour of the orangery, with its white muslin curtains, its impressive checkerboard flooring, the antique chandelier, and the prospect of a joyful celebration taking place within its windowed walls, the full force of her loss rushed at her with a vengeance. But for a quirk of fate, in just over two weeks’ time she would have been standing in the local village church, smiling at the small congregation gathered there to see her exchange her vows with Elliot.
Had she been so consumed with every detail being as perfect as possible, just as Zara was, that she had failed to notice her fiancé was dating someone else?
A cloak of misery threatened to engulf her and she struggled to restrain her tears. She knew it was healthy to cry, to let out all the emotion she was clearly bottling up, but how could she dissolve into a melange of self-pity when she had a job to do – to make sure the most important day of Zara and Jason’s life fulfilled their every expectation? She was grateful for Freya’s confidence in her abilities to deliver on that brief, based of course on her successful fashion shows for Pierre. Except a wedding wasn’t a commercial enterprise, it was a celebration of love, one that had not only to run in accordance with a planned schedule, but had to sparkle with joy, with optimism, with happiness!
Could she deliver that when her own heart was broken?
What she did know was that she had relished every aspect of organising her wedding, even though it wasn’t her ‘dream’ wedding. She’d adored spending time with Maggie, poring over bridal magazines, deciding on colour schemes, shopping for the wedding cake, sourcing the flowers from local suppliers. And if she were honest with herself – and what was the point in being otherwise – she perhaps had excluded Elliot from some of the decision-making process. Should she have sought his views on the colour of the table napkins, or the cocktail menu, or the cost of the favours? Was that why he’d turned to another woman just weeks before they said I do?
Was this all her fault?
Had she been so focused on everything that needed to be done, with the fashion show and the wedding, that she had failed to remember that the most important thing in any wedding was the love shared by the two people at the centre of the celebration, a love that had to be nurtured otherwise… well, look what had happened.
But then the friendly advocate in Team Lexie’s corner whispered a few words of solace. Elliot had been just as focused on his career as she was. Being an accountant for one of the largest international accountancy firms in the UK was a stressful and responsible job that required complete dedication to the cause, especially when there was a multi-million-pound takeover going down. He often worked longer hours than she did and that was saying something. It was one of the things she liked about him, the fact that he always put one hundred per cent into everything he did.
Then something else meandered into her mind – had he really been working late all those times he’d said he had been?
Her stomach performed an uncomfortable somersault of dread. Working late had been the excuse he’d given her for not being able to attend the catwalk show, but she had seen the evidence with her own eyes that he quite patently was not. He’d also missed at least three trips up to the Lake District in the last couple of months. Did that mean his relationship with the birthday girl had been going on for a while? And if so, why hadn’t he called their engagement off?