Copyright

HarperImpulse an imprint of

HarperColl‌insPublishers

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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2016

Copyright © Caroline Roberts 2016

Cover design by Alexandra Allden © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2016

Cover images © iStock.com (stairs and street light); Shutterstock.com (all other images)

Caroline Roberts asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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Source ISBN: 9780008212681

Ebook Edition © October 2016 ISBN: 9780008212674

Version 2017-10-28

Dedication

For my home county of Northumberland – stunning scenery, wonderful people

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

Also by Caroline Roberts

About the Publisher

Prologue

Five years ago, Ellie Hall arrived at the beautiful, yet slightly crumbling, Claverham Castle, with her ambitions of running her own teashop. Armed with only her hopes and dreams, her love of baking, and her late Nanna’s Be-Ro recipe book, she took on the teashop lease, leaving behind her close-knit family and dull insurance job. Starting her rollercoaster adventure, she learnt on her feet, making a whole host of new friends, as well as falling in love with the rather gorgeous estate manager, Joe.

A wedding, a fire, and the revelation of a family secret later, we return. Welcome to Ellie’s world. Welcome to the Cosy Teashop in the Castle …

1

‘There’s a coachload of fifty people due in twenty minutes.’

Ellie turned to see Joe smiling at her; he must have slipped quietly into the teashop kitchen.

‘You’re kidding.’ He was often teasing her, it might just be a wind-up. She’d hardly stopped today as it was. It had been a very busy August Bank Holiday Monday – the end of the school summer holidays. Good for the till, but tough on her feet. She felt like she’d been juggling all day; keeping up with the lunch orders, whizzing up a couple of extra lemon drizzle cakes in between, when it looked like they might run out, despite having baked lots of extra cakes and cookies all week in the build up to the weekend.

Joe was shaking his head, looking serious. ‘Nope … Deana’s just had a call from the driver. All good for business though.’

‘Right then, well I’d better get my skates on and see how we’re doing for cakes out in the teashop.’ Ellie wasn’t quite sure what she could rustle up in twenty minutes, but there might be something stored in the freezer. Cupcakes came to mind, she often kept a spare batch of vanilla ones just in case; she could ice them pretty fast if she needed.

‘You better had. But first …’ He came close, put his arms around her from behind and kissed the nape of her neck, just where the bare skin showed beneath her ponytail.

It sent a little quiver down her spine. ‘I haven’t got time, Joe. You can’t tell me that, and then expect a kissing session.’ She turned to face him, trying to look cross.

‘Why not?’ He smiled cheekily.

The smile that still got her. ‘Ah, okay then. Just one kiss. A short one.’

She pressed a pert kiss on his lips, and went to pull away. He pulled her closer, his arms around her. Kissed her again, warm and tender, and teasingly good.

She stepped back, reminding herself this was not the time or the place. ‘Doris’ll be marching in any moment. It’s not right. And, I’ve got far too much to do. Go.’ But she was grinning.

‘Okay, okay, I know where I’m not wanted. I should have let them all turn up on you without warning.’

He headed for the swing door.

‘Thanks,’ she finished.

He gave her a wink as he exited.

They’d been married for over three years now, meeting at her first ever interview for the lease on the Claverham Castle teashop. He was the estate manager, tall, with dark, slightly floppy-fringed hair – he had it cut a little shorter nowadays – and she was a rather naïve twenty-six-year-old, coming straight from her uninspiring insurance job in the city of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, armed only with her love of baking, her Nanna’s cookbook, and her teashop dream. Nanna’s slightly charred Be-Ro Recipe book still held pride of place on a shelf in the teashop’s kitchen – that was another story.

Now, five years on, her husband was still as affectionate as ever, probably more so. Love and trust, and tenderness, having grown between them. But at hectic times like this, she really had to focus on running the teashop. They would catch up later, back in their castle apartment, and hopefully they might carry on where they left off.

The afternoon flew by, in a flurry of making vanilla and chocolate frosting for the spare cupcakes (yay – she’d had some in the freezer!). She also found an extra batch of choc-chip shortbread in a tub in the store cupboard, and after rearranging the remaining cakes and biscuits in the counter display of the teashop, it looked a pretty good selection.

Irene (the newest addition to the teashop team and Ellie’s wonderful, sixty-something, baking assistant), Doris (waitress, gossip-lover, difficult at times, yet with a heart of gold) and Lauren (a lovely girl from the village who helped on weekends and holidays) were in full swing too.

Serving fifty additional people in a teashop that was nearly full as it was, was a challenge. Luckily, they had some extra tables outside in the courtyard, and as it was a sunny day that worked well, but it meant even more to-ing and fro-ing for the waitresses. The coffee machine was spluttering and frothing, very much on overdrive but still sending out those gorgeous, rich aromas. The cakes and scones were plated up – the lemon drizzle proving to be a hit.

Ellie’s feet were sore, her back was aching. It was nearly four-thirty, and they normally closed around now. But there were still several stragglers, sat chatting and sipping their drinks like they hadn’t a care in the world. And, that was fine. Let them enjoy their trip out, and their treat at the end of their castle tour, that’s what it was all about. But boy, she’d be looking forward to soaking in a deep, bubbly bath tonight.

They were wrapping up for the day, it had just gone five-twenty, well past their normal closing time, and one remaining middle-aged couple were still lingering over a pot of tea they’d been sharing for the best part of an hour.

Ellie was behind the counter restacking the crockery and cutlery from the dishwasher tray, ready for the next day. She felt that telling nag of period pain, along with a dull ache of disappointment.

Oh no, not this. Not again.

It was early days, she knew that. She and Joe had been trying for a baby for five months now, but she couldn’t help but get excited this time; she’d been four days late, and her hopes had soared. She’d already planned to get a pregnancy test on her next day off, and had pictured herself telling Joe the wonderful news.

Bloody hell.

Doris was clearing up around the couple who still remained seated, chattering away, oblivious to the time. The waitress made herself busy wiping down all the other tables, encircling theirs, but to no avail. Then, she started with the broom, sweeping loudly in their direction. Tact was not her thing. Ellie couldn’t help but give a wry smile.

‘Doris, I just need to nip out a minute. Are you okay to stay on a little while?’

‘No problem,’ she announced noisily. ‘We’ll not be long now, anyhow.’ Doris smiled across at the couple, stirring them from their comfortable reverie. ‘Everything all right?’ she asked them, the message as clear as if she had come straight out and told them to leave. How did she do it? Ellie had tried her best with training Doris in customer service over the years, but there were some elements of her waitress’s nature that just couldn’t be curbed. And in a strange way, Ellie had grown fond of them.

Ellie traipsed off to the ladies. Sure enough, the telltale not-pregnant-at-all bloodstain was there. Bloody hell.

It was okay, she reminded herself, as she washed her hands at the sink, all early days stuff. Her face looked pale in the mirror, tired. No wonder, after the hectic day she’d had. Her thick blonde hair was tied back in its work-style ponytail. She sighed at her reflection. It was just one of those things. After all, she’d read only recently that most couples took up to six months to conceive. She’d just hoped, hadn’t she? She’d been so excited at the thought of telling Joe. They both felt so ready for a family, to move on to this next exciting phase of their lives together, they had talked about it so much of late.

She had extra help at the teashop now with her fabulous assistant Irene, who made the most wonderful cakes and quiches. Deana was also getting on well, helping her with all the wedding bookings they had been taking. It seemed like a good time for her and Joe to plan for their family. She’d keep up her work, of course, the teashop and the castle were so much more than a job, they had a huge place in her heart and life, but she’d take a step back, and allow the team to help some more.

Ellie loved doing the wedding coordinating – making a couple’s wedding day as special and unique as she could for them. The weddings were a fairly new venture for the castle that Ellie and Joe had developed in the last few years. The castle was now growing a good reputation as an up-and-coming wedding venue, being one of the most beautiful locations in the area. A stunning old stone castle, surrounded by formal gardens, small lakes, and the most beautiful rolling countryside.

If anything did happen baby-wise, Ellie planned to stay on and carry on working, doing less hours naturally, and with some childcare help she’d still keep her hand in with everything. It wasn’t as though she lived far away – just one floor up in the West Wing in Joe’s original suite of rooms!

Anyhow, she stopped her daydreaming, it wasn’t to be, not this time. Despite the sinking feeling of disappointment, she knew she’d have to just keep her chin up and keep going. They could wait, she told herself. They’d have to wait.

She dried her hands on a paper towel, and headed back to the teashop.

Sure enough, the middle-aged couple had disappeared and Doris was mopping the tearoom floor.

‘Thanks Doris, I’ll take over here.’

‘You sure, pet?’

‘Yes, get yourself away. You’re running a bit over time as it is.’

‘Okay, thanks then, Ellie. See you in the morning.’

‘See you, Doris.’

All was quiet. She looked around the teashop, Ellie’s Teashop in the Castle, and felt a sense of pride. She’d really made a go of it. It was looking lovely, with a little late-afternoon glow of sunshine coming in through the leaded windows. She’d kept the vintage-flowered oilcloths, though she was on her second set now. And the tables were set with the posy jars she’d originally bought from Wendy’s flower shop, in the nearby town of Kirkton. Today, they were full of pretty lilac and pink sweet peas, that Colin had let her snip from the walled gardens as they were in abundance. They smelt absolutely gorgeous.

She had kept some of the handmade bunting from her own wedding day and swooped it around the old stone walls. The log fire was burning; come summer or winter it was always lit, keeping the chill off. It really was such a cosy, pretty spot. Just the place to while away an hour with a cup of tea and a slice of Victoria Sponge or chocolate cake, or whatever might take your fancy.

The door swung open. ‘Nearly done?’ Joe’s dark hair and smiling face appeared. That smile that still melted her heart.

‘Yes, just give me five minutes.’

‘Do you fancy a walk out? It’s such a lovely evening?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, okay. Sounds good.’ That might be just what she needed. A nice stroll and some fresh air. It had been a tricky day to say the least.

‘We could take an evening picnic? It’s still warm out there.’

Even better. ‘I’ll pack up a few of the leftovers. There’re some slices of Irene’s quiche left – a bacon, leek and mushroom today. It looks scrummy.’

‘Any lemon drizzle going spare?’

‘Yes, just a couple of slices, I think. You’re as bad as Derek and Malcolm. I think you’ve all got a lemon drizzle fetish.’

‘Absolutely.’ He gave Ellie his cheeky look that always made her smile. ‘You know I’ll do anything for a slice of your lemon drizzle.’ With that, he left the tearooms, turning at the last to give her a cute wink. ‘See you upstairs shortly, then.’

Despite the challenges of the day, she felt a little better.

The valley stretched out below them, in late-summer shades of green and gold; rectangular crop fields patterning the landscape, a tractor trundling in the distance, sheep and cattle grazing. The purple-tinged Cheviot Hills of Northumberland rose majestically on the horizon. And looking down below them, they could just make out the stone turrets and crenulations of the rooftops of Claverham Castle, there at the base of the hill they had just climbed, nestled in the valley and sheltered by a host of centuries-old trees.

‘You seem a bit quiet, Ellie. All okay?’

‘Yeah.’

She nestled in beside him, the pair of them sat with their backs against a limestone rock. Ellie remembered when they had first looked out at that stunning view together, sharing apples, and their first kiss.

‘Joe … it still hasn’t happened.’ Her voice was small.

He looked at her quizzically.

‘Not this month, anyhow.’ Ellie couldn’t hide the disappointment in her tone.

‘Oh.’

‘Sorry,’ she whispered.

‘Hey.’ He tightened his arm, which was already around her. ‘No need to be sorry. It’s just one of those things … It’ll happen soon enough, you’ll see.’

‘Hope so.’

‘And … I’m quite enjoying practising.’ He gave her another of his cheeky looks.

For a second his comment seemed a touch callous, but she realized he was just trying to cheer her up. She was probably being hypersensitive. Her emotions felt like bare wires at the moment.

‘Yes, that bit is quite fun.’ She tried to join in the lighter tone of the conversation. But already it had changed for her, she knew. Sex, had moved to something more. Something wonderful that might produce a child. A child with Joe. And that yearning had grown in her.

‘Come on, don’t worry. It’s really early days yet. We’ll have a whole tribe of them soon enough. And then you’ll be desperate for five minutes peace. And hey …’ he looked more serious then, reached up to touch her cheek, ‘whatever happens, we’ll always have us.’

‘I know, I know. I’m just being silly.’

He gave her a little squeeze. ‘No, you’re not. You just really want to be a mum. And you’ll be a great one, I know it. And, I can’t wait to be a dad, too. But maybe we’re just going to have to wait a bit longer, by the looks of it.’

Life was good, Ellie realized that. They should just be enjoying the here and now. She had so much to be thankful for. Being married to Joe was just wonderful. She loved him as much as the day she had fallen for him nearly five years ago, probably even more so. And life in the castle was working out great. The teashop kept her busy, as well as all the wedding coordinating. There were the usual ups and downs, of course. A huge part of her dreams had already come true. But a child, Joe’s child, would make it all the more special.

Ellie leaned into him, let her head rest against his chest. She felt the rhythm of her heart slow to the strength of his, and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

2

‘Hi Ellie, it’s Lucy.’

Just four words, but there was something in her tone, seemingly flat at first but then that lilt of panic, that made Ellie’s heart freeze. It was the day after Bank Holiday, Ellie was back in the teashop kitchens, preparing salad, ready for the lunch session. She’d just picked up the phone.

‘Lucy, is everything okay?’ This was not how a bride-to-be, just two weeks from her wedding day, should sound.

‘No.’

Oh, no. ‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s Daniel … We-we’re going to have to cancel the wedding.’

But they had seemed so well suited. Ellie had got on really well with both of them during the wedding planning. They had come to feel like friends. Was it just pre-wedding jitters?

‘He’s had an accident, Ellie. Come off his motorbike … he’s in a real mess.’ A sob echoed down the line.

‘Oh, no. Is he going to be all right?’

There was a little hiccuppy noise, ‘I think so … but it’s not good. He’s broken that many bones, his left leg in I don’t know how many places, his ankle, collarbone, wrist and … he’s lost the feeling in his legs.’

‘Oh Lucy, how awful. I’m so sorry.’

‘But the wedding … We’re going to have to let you and the castle down. There’s no way it can happen now. And, there’s the florist, and the band booked, and you’ve probably made the cake already, and all the catering …’

‘Hey, that’s the least of your worries right now. What’s important here is Daniel’s recovery. We can sort out all that other stuff. Just leave it to me to contact the florist and the band.’

Yes, some food might be wasted, Ellie realized. They had hired caterers for the main wedding meal, but she was catering for the arrival drinks and canapes, and breakfast for the overnight guests. Her special-recipe fruit cake was already made, ready to be iced, but that could be used up somehow.

Dear God, wasn’t life precarious. They were such a lovely couple, in their early thirties. They seemed very much in love, what a terrible thing to happen. Ellie felt a little queasy. She so hoped Daniel would be okay. But, if he’d lost the use of his legs, how bloody frightening.

Ellie remembered vividly when they’d first turned up to view the castle as a potential wedding venue, with some friends on a trio of Harley Davidson motorbikes roaring up the driveway. Yes, she should know better than to judge by appearances, but she couldn’t help but imagine some kind of Hell’s Angels types as they’d rolled up in their black-leather biker jackets. Then they’d taken off their helmets, given her broad smiles, shook hands, and had been so warm and friendly. They had clicked and chatted easily as she’d shown them around, and they had just loved the quirkiness and character of the castle as a wedding venue.

‘Honestly, don’t worry about us, Lucy,’ Ellie took up, ‘You just concentrate on getting Daniel better. Then you can make a decision about the wedding at a later date. Let’s think of it in terms of a delay, that’s all. Just let me know in time, and we can rebook. Okay?’

‘Okay … thank you. Can you hang on to the deposit then, and I’ll keep you posted.’

Bless her, she sounded in shock.

‘Of course, if that’s what you’d like. And, I’ll go ahead and advise the other parties involved, as far as postponing the booking here. Don’t worry, I’ll sort all that out.’

‘Thank you so much.’

‘Is there anything else we can do to help at all, Lucy?’

‘Not really, I don’t think so. Dan’s still in the hospital for now. The Royal Victoria in Newcastle.’

‘Okay, well send him our best wishes … Which ward?’

She’d send a card, maybe some of her homemade fudge – he’d loved it when she’d served it with their coffee as they were chatting through their wedding plans. It wasn’t a lot, but it might just help to cheer him up. It was hard to know quite what to do to help, in such circumstances.

‘Ward Seven. I’m popping to see him again this afternoon, I’ll say you’re asking after him …’ There was a long pause. ‘It was a lorry, you know, that did it. Cut across on the wrong side of the road on a bend, just took him right out.’

‘Oh God, how awful … I’m so, so sorry, Lucy.’

‘At least he’s still here. He might be all bashed up, but oh God, to think …’

It was almost too dreadful to go there, to let your mind take that next step.

‘Take care now, both of you. And don’t go worrying about anything here. It’s just one of those things. It’s fine, we can rebook whenever you are ready. Just let us know how things go for you both.’

‘Thank you … for being so understanding.’

‘Hey, it’s no problem. He’ll get through this, Lucy. I’m sure he will, my lovely. After all, he’s got a wedding to get to.’

Ellie was stood in a bit of a daze after putting the receiver of the landline down. Deana had put the call through to her in the teashop kitchen. Joe came in, found her stood stock-still, staring at the work surface where she’d been slicing tomatoes and cucumber.

‘You okay?’

‘Oh … I’ve just had a bit of a shock. You know Daniel and Lucy, the next wedding booking?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Well, that was Lucy … Oh Joe, it’s Dan, he’s had a really nasty accident. Came off his motorbike and is in a right mess by the sounds of it.’

‘Oh, Jeez. Is he going to be okay?’

‘Hopefully, but he’s broken loads of bones, and at the moment he’s lost the feeling in his legs. That’s so worrying.’

‘Ah, shit.’

Life could change in a split second. We were all so bloody fragile. Ellie began to feel a bit wobbly, there were tears misting her eyes. ‘It’s just taken me a bit by surprise. They’re such a nice couple. It seems so unfair. They should be getting their lovely wedding day.’

‘Come here.’ Joe’s strong arms were around her, comforting, steady.

She rested her head against his chest and allowed a tear to run down her cheek. She felt so lucky that they had met, that she had taken the chance on coming up here to take on the lease for the teashop, five years ago now. Even three years after their own wedding, she still had to pinch herself that it had worked out so wonderfully. It felt so very precious to have found the right person, having his arms around her at night, and at times like this.

‘Right,’ she rallied. ‘I’d better get on with this cooking and my next batch of baking, or the tearooms will be out of cookies and cake, and that will never do. Oh, and I must ring the catering company, and Wendy at the florist’s and the band from Berwick that were booked too, to let them know the wedding’s had to be cancelled.’

‘I’ll see you later, then. I need to go over and check the farmstead next. You sure you’re okay now?’

‘Yes, of course. I just really feel for them. What a dreadful thing to happen, and what a shock.’

‘Yeah, they’re a great couple. He was chatting to me about his bike last time they were here. He was going to let me have a go on it, when they were next back up. I fancied blasting it along the castle driveway.’

‘I didn’t even know you could ride a motorbike?’

‘Yeah well, hidden talents of a misspent youth. Right, I’d better crack on.’

Doris bustled into the kitchen soon after; she’d been waiting expectantly for news on the urgent phone call that she had intercepted, and had to fetch Ellie for.

‘Everything okay?’ she angled.

‘No. Not really.’ Ellie was still feeling the shock, trying to take it all in.

The middle-aged waitress’s eyebrows shot up.

‘You know that lovely couple who’ve been planning their wedding with us, Daniel and Lucy? It’s in two weeks’ time. The ones who turn up on the motorbike. Well, he’s been involved in a terrible road accident.’ She felt her voice catch on the words. ‘That was Lucy, she’s devastated. They’re going to have to cancel.’

‘Ah, bless. Yes, I remember them, they were nice sorts. Not like those awful ones from down south for the other September wedding, the ones who keep changing their damned minds on everything. She’s turning out to be a right Bridezilla, that one.’

Ellie knew exactly who Doris meant, and had to agree with her. They were the most difficult couple that they’d had to deal with by far, in the last four years of hosting weddings at the castle. To be fair, the groom seemed okay, he had probably learnt to do what he was told, but the bride and her mother …

‘Yes, I know … But there you go, the customer is always right Doris, and they come in all shapes and sizes. We have to do our best to meet all their needs, however demanding.’

‘Hah,’ Doris spluttered, ‘it would help if they knew what those needs were!’

‘Agreed.’ Ellie gave a small smile and a sigh all at once, and started rolling out another batch of cookie dough for some white chocolate and hazelnut biscuits.

Why did the bad stuff always have to happen to the good guys? Life didn’t seem fair sometimes.

3

‘She wants a bloody unicorn now!’

Ellie had phoned through to Deana’s office, her fifty-something friend and colleague, and Lord Henry’s long-term PA. Deana was down-to-earth, warm-hearted and had been Ellie’s rock in times of crisis through her early years at the castle. She was also helping Ellie with the wedding coordinating that seemed to be taking up so much of her time these days. Ellie needed to share this latest, crazy request from Bridezilla. The wedding itself was only three weeks away, and the daily phone calls and demands from the bride and her mother were getting more and more extreme. It wouldn’t be so bad if they’d choose something and stick to it, but it was an ever-evolving wish list, that pushed Ellie’s organisational skills and patience to the limit.

‘A unicorn, how the hell do we get a twatting unicorn to a wedding?’ Deana gave an exasperated sigh down the line.

‘It’d be funny, if it wasn’t us had to deal with it,’ Ellie commented. ‘Are there any white horses around the village?’

Deana laughed, ‘It’s a starting point, I suppose … But how exactly are we going to make it grow a horn from its head?’

‘I have no idea. I’m just trying to think creatively.’ Ellie was shaking her head at the craziness of the situation.

‘Come and see me later, when Irene’s in, and you get five minutes. We’ll put our heads together over a cup of tea.’

Irene was the latest addition to the teashop staff and what a godsend she had been. Wendy, the florist, had recommended her. She’d been a school cook, was now retired, but found she had too much time on her hands and was desperate to find some local work. She was a happy soul, never made a fuss, and could bake like Mary Berry; her cakes were very traditional but amazing. Her Victoria sponge was to die for, and her fruit cakes, wow, they were proving quite a hit as wedding cakes. Irene would make the fruit-laden cakes, feeding them well with brandy over a month or so, and Ellie would use her creative skills to ice and decorate them – they made fabulous celebration cakes. The lovely Irene was also a dab hand at quiches and scones.

At the interview, she’d reminded Ellie of a younger Nanna, with her neat grey curls, warm smile, and with her love of baking too, that had sealed the deal. Ellie had learnt her baking skills from her Nanna. She remembered vividly standing on a stool as a little girl, stirring the cake mix, in her Nanna’s galley kitchen in her brick terraced house in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. She still missed her so much; Ellie would love for her to have seen the success she’d made of the Castle Teashop, and to be able to have a really good catch up with her over a slice of cake and a cup of tea. But yes, having Irene to help, was the next best thing, and it had freed up some valuable time for Ellie to coordinate the wedding events they hosted at the castle, knowing the teashop was in safe hands.

‘Well, we can’t afford to upset the bridal party. We still need the final payment.’ Deana brought her back to the here and now.

‘Yes, I know. We really can’t scoff at the money they’re prepared to pay. But blimey, we’ll be working for it. Oh and get this, we need hundreds of white rose petals to line the chapel aisle, the reception tables and the honeymoon suite. Wendy’s going to love having to peel those off one by one. And, they have to be perfectly fresh – done on the day. Silk ones just won’t do.’

‘Oh well, Wendy’ll just have to charge an hourly rate for petal picking on top of the flower bill.’

Whatever they did for this wedding, Ellie was sure it would never be quite enough in the end, but they could only try their best. She usually loved her wedding co-ordinator role at the castle, but this particular wedding was turning into a bit of a nightmare, pushing her to the limits.

‘Right, better get on, Deana. I’ll catch you later. I’ll pop across when I get chance.’

‘Yeah, see you soon, pet.’

Ellie couldn’t stop thinking about poor Daniel, wondering how he was after his accident. It had kept her awake in the night. She wished it was their wedding she was sorting out, not this bloody nightmare couple’s. Before the customers started piling in for the day, she’d give Lucy a call, and see how they were getting on.

But first, Ellie quickly looked in on the tearooms. Irene had just arrived and was busy baking; a couple of Victoria sponges by the looks of it. Her fresh strawberries and cream filling was going down a treat with the summer visitors; perfect with a cup of Earl Grey, or Darjeeling. Ellie had extended the tea range with a host of new flavours and some herbal specialty teas. Doris had struggled with this at first, Who on earth would be wanting peppermint or ginger tea, and camomile and honey, really? What’s wrong with a cup of Rington’s traditional breakfast? But they had, and she continued to serve it with a frown.

They were also doing well with their ‘afternoon tea’ special. Irene’s mini-scone selection was a delight, and she’d cut dainty slices of all the teashop favourites for the three tier stands, including Ellie’s lemon drizzle and the now famous Choffee Cake (chocolate and coffee in layers), as well as crust-free perfect fingers of smoked salmon and cream cheese, cucumber, and ham and local honey-mustard sandwiches.

‘Morning, Irene. You’ve cracked on well already.’

‘No time like the present. And how are you today?’

‘Good, thank you. Ready for another busy day. We have a coach booked in for lunch at oneish, so I’ll pop some extra jacket potatoes in. Do you think you could make a couple of extra quiches too?’ Irene’s quiches were amazing – leek and bacon, salmon and asparagus, and her good old Quiche Lorraine with roasted ham and extra-strong cheddar, yum. Her pastry was even crispier than Ellie’s.

‘Of course, lovey. I take it you’ve ordered in all the ingredients I need.’

‘Yep, all in the store and the fridge. Thanks, Irene.’

Ellie popped through from the kitchen to the teashop itself, where Doris was giving the pretty rose-patterned oilcloth covers a wipe-over ready for the day ahead, and topping up the water in the posy vases. Ellie felt proud as she walked in there; of how the teashop had come on, and how she had grown herself, what she had managed to achieve by following her dream.

The teashop was set in an ancient sandstone-walled castle that dated back to the Thirteenth Century. The tearooms had the same rugged stone walls, and high ceilings, with a minstrel’s gallery that looked down over the twelve tables. There was a huge fireplace that was always lit whatever the weather or season, keeping the tearooms cosy. There were two sets of lead-patterned windows on the inner wall that, if you stood on tiptoes on the seating nooks, you could peep out from into the courtyard of the main castle. So much must have happened here over the centuries. So many lives lived out. Kings had stayed en route to and from Scotland – the castle being nestled in the border lands of Northumberland. Servants and masters will have loved and lost, had their children, grown old, died young, here. The dramas, the dreams, the happiness, the sorrows.

Ellie carried through two cakes she had baked that morning to set on the counter; a carrot cake and a rich chocolate sponge with dark cherries layered with whipped cream. Her chocolate-chip cookies were cooling on wire racks and would be ready shortly, and Irene’s scone selection would appear next. The counter display looked scrummy, she had to admit. It was nice to have a lovely selection of cakes and goodies on show for the castle visitors, and hopefully it would tempt them to spend out on a homemade treat. Ellie had had to develop a keener business mind as well as her baking skills – there were staff to pay and a living to make for herself. She’d started making up pretty cellophane-wrapped bags of mini brownies, shortbread and meringues that guests could buy to take home too – they were proving very popular.

Once everything was set up, Ellie nipped back to the kitchen. There was one phone call she really wanted to make.

‘Hi, Lucy. How’s Daniel getting on?’

‘Oh Ellie, how lovely of you to call. Well, he’s so, so … It’s going to be a long job. To be honest, he’s in a bit of a bad way.’

‘Oh no. What a shame. I’m so sorry to hear that.’

‘He’s just got so many broken bones, his whole body has got to recover. It’s tough on him.’

‘And you too, I bet. How are you? It must be so hard for all of you, Dan’s family too.’

‘I’m okay, surviving. I’m trying to stay strong for Dan’s sake. I’m at the hospital every day with him. Fitting it around work … my firm have been great actually. And, he’s chatting a bit now, which is brilliant, but he gets really tired. Even a conversation can whack him out. But hey, we’ll get through somehow.’

Bloody hell, there she was, her fiancé in hospital, her wedding day cancelled, trying to make the best of things. And bloody Bridezilla had it all, and couldn’t see it. Really, what did it matter if it was a unicorn, an Aston Martin or a push-bike taking her to her wedding, as long as she had one and a healthy groom to be with? Just to be able to take those vows, and to mean them, that was the special thing, the important thing. Yes, of course try and make it a wonderful day, but hey, count your blessings, and all that. Ellie felt very lucky to have had her lovely wedding with Joe there at the castle, with all their friends and family around them. But it was more than just that day – it was now, it was forever, a partnership.

‘Yeah, you will. The two of you will get through all this. You make a great couple.’

‘Thanks, Ellie. It’s just so hard seeing him like this, you know. And, he still hasn’t got any sensation back in his legs yet.’ Lucy’s voice broke a bit then, ‘What if he can’t walk, or ride his motorbike again? That’ll be so hard for him.’

‘I know, petal. But fingers crossed it’s just a short term thing. You’ll just have to hope, and trust in the doctors.’

‘Yeah, of course. Well hey, thanks so much for phoning.’

‘No worries, I just wanted to find out how you both were.’

‘Thank you. And sorry to be a bit down … it’s just hard keeping positive all the time. And I try not to show Daniel if I’m worried, I’m trying my best to cheer him up. But every now and then I wilt a little. It’s so frustrating for him at the moment, trapped in that hospital bed. Even though the staff there are lovely with him. Anyway, it’s nice to be able to be honest with someone, and I feel like I can be open with you.’

‘Thanks, I’m glad you feel that.’ Ellie felt a catch in her throat. It had become so much more than just a job, arranging the wedding for this couple. It had already grown into a friendship. ‘And Lucy, it’s totally understandable to feel upset. God knows how I’d be if Joe ever got hurt like that.’

‘Well, I’ve got to get off to work, and then I’m straight back to the hospital again. But thanks so much for ringing. It means a lot.’

‘You’re very welcome. Pass on our best wishes to Dan.’

‘Will do.’

‘Actually, I was a little worried it might upset you, me calling you, reminding you of the castle, and your wedding and everything.’

‘No, absolutely not. That’s what’s keeping me going for now. It’s my dream to get back up there, Ellie. Whatever it takes, whether Dan can walk or not, I can’t wait to have our wedding day. It might have to be a bit different to the one we’d planned, but I want it even more now. One day, I’ll be Mrs Daniel Clark.’

‘Well, whenever you are both ready let us know. We can soon get everything sorted out at this end for you. And if there’s anything at all we can do in the meanwhile to help, just shout, yeah?’

‘Will do. Thanks Ellie, I appreciate that.’

‘Take care, both of you.’

‘And you. Bye.’

‘Bye.’ As she clicked her mobile off, Ellie sighed. She so hoped it would work out for them, that Dan would make a full recovery. They were trying to be so positive, to make the best of such a horrible situation.

In Deana’s office, four o’clock. The teashop had been hectic, and this was Ellie’s first chance to get away.

Deana’s emergency kettle was coming to a boil; a strong brew was definitely in order.

‘Right then. I take it you’ve had another call. Where are we with Bridezilla now?’ They didn’t bother using the girl’s real name, Chelsea, any more. Everyone at the castle knew who Bridezilla was.

‘Well, two days ago I had a request to change the wedding cake. I’d already made all the fruit cakes for the three tiers, got them steeping in brandy, and now she wants a rainbow multi-layer sponge cake that she’s just seen on some fancy wedding makeover program. And, even better, get this, she wants to make a grand entrance by coming down the driveway on a unicorn.’

‘Unicorns and rainbows – sounds like some My Little Pony-inspired do.’

‘Possibly, I have no idea. But I’ve told her I’ll have to charge for both cakes, at least the un-iced version of the first. I can’t afford to waste all those ingredients, not to mention the time I’ve spent. Anyway, she seemed fine with that.’

‘More money than sense, that one … But how the hell are you going to get a unicorn? Does she know they aren’t actually real?’

‘Heaven knows. But apparently they had one at a celebrity wedding featured in Hello recently.’

‘Oh.’ Deana poured some water into the teapot for two. Ellie had brought across two slices of her signature Choffee Cake, anticipating the need for something sweet in a bid to boost them both.

‘We need to think of a plan.’

‘Oooh, plan for what?’ Derek, one of the castle tour guides, popped his grey-haired head around the door frame.

Malcolm, his partner in visitor-information and life, appeared beside him, sporting a yellow and red spotty bow tie. ‘It has to be Bridezilla.’

The tour guide team stood waiting for the response.

‘You got it in one,’ Ellie answered.

‘What are they up to now then, girls?’ Everyone in the castle had had some obscure request from the bride or her mother, and mostly not in the politest of forms.

‘They want a unicorn at the wedding,’ Deana stated.

‘You’re joking.’

‘I wish I was.’

‘A unicorn?’ Derek’s mouth stayed partially open, ‘Horned horse that doesn’t exist … has anyone actually told her that yet?’

‘I tried …’ Ellie’s tone was exasperated, ‘but if it’s good enough for Plush and Becks, then it’s good enough for her, apparently. And we’re here to make her dreams come true.’

‘Jeez.’ Derek stood with his arms folded.

Malcolm was grinning, or was it a grimace, Ellie couldn’t quite be sure. ‘Leave it to us. We like a challenge, don’t we, Derek? The Malcolm-Derek think tank is about to leap into action,’ he announced.

‘God help us,’ Deana muttered under her breath.

‘Well, have you got any better plans, Deana? Or a fairy godmother to hand?’ Malcolm was getting a bit flouncy.

A second of silence. Then Ellie gave a wry smile, Derek slipped her a grin, and the penny dropped with Malcolm on his final comment, as the group collapsed into laughter.

‘Well, it’ll be one thing less for me to think about, so thank you, Malcolm.’ Ellie gave a wry smile. ‘I’ve got a teashop to run and apparently a seven-layer rainbow cake to design and create. Hmm, it’ll be interesting to see what you two come up with.’

‘Hah, I can’t wait.’ Deana’s eyebrows were raised. ‘Cuppa, gents?’

‘No, but thanks, we need to go round and check all the visitor rooms are empty, before we shut up for the day. Don’t want any stragglers stranded in the drawing room, or such like.’ That had actually happened in the past.

‘Another time, Deana. Thank you,’ added Derek.

‘Right, that’s me off too,’ said Ellie, a yawn creeping over her lips. It had been a long day. ‘Better see how the tearooms are getting on, and then get ready to close up for the night.’

4

Evening settled over the castle, the long, lazy shadows of summer dusk finding their way through the leaded windows. Ellie liked the shift from the bustle of the daytime visitors, the steady stream of orders, the splutters of the coffee machine – she’d invested in a second-hand Gaggia coffee machine and loved it; it filled the teashop with a gorgeous fresh ground aroma. Doris, believe it or not, had turned into her barista! After a little encouragement and a few lessons, she became the queen of the coffee machine, no less. Though of course, no one could make a cup of coffee quite like her now. Irene was relegated to baking and tea duties, which she was quite happy with, to be fair. But now, with only the soothing noise of her radio, when the order row was empty, and she had a chance to take a slow breath, there was a sense of peace. Time to plan for tomorrow, and to look forward to getting back to their apartment and to Joe.

Ellie turned off all the appliance switches in the kitchen, bar the fridges and freezers. A routine she’d kept to since the dramatic and devastating fire that had ravaged her lovely teashop and kitchen at the end of her first year there. It had happened just when she had managed to turn the business around, and it all seemed like her dreams were finally coming true. The memories of that night still haunted her; how scared she had been when she realized Joe was still in there. How very different life might have been … If Joe hadn’t made it through … it still made her feel sick just thinking about it.

She could really feel for Lucy and Dan, and all that they were going through right now, having been so close to disaster herself.

Right then, everything seemed in order at the tearooms. She’d be down to make a batch of chocolate brownies first thing tomorrow. And, as she and Deana had nearly polished off the Choffee Cake, she’d better get the coffee and chocolate sponge layers for that made early on too. Irene would make the scones for her, and they’d need another four quiches made for lunches too. Then, she mustn’t forget there was the ordering to do. The list in her mind just seemed to build. But for now, she needed to turn off the lights, check the real fire in the teashop was settled to a gentle smoulder – it never quite went out being big enough to fit a couple of tree trunks in, and could happily sit a dozen people around its hearth.

She made her way across the courtyard and up the circular stone stairwell to the living quarters she shared with Joe. The only other person who lived in the castle was Joe’s father, Lord Henry, who preferred a pretty isolated existence, so all was quiet of an evening.

Every now and again, the reality of her surroundings took her breath away. The doves cooing in the battlements above her. The evening sun washing the cream sandstone walls with a blush of colour. A glimpse of the walled gardens neatly laid out with short box hedges, colourful blooms and herbaceous borders from a portcullis window. She wasn’t used to any of this, having been brought up in a red brick terraced house in a suburb of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. But more than this amazing castle with its centuries-old walls and gardens, it was going back to Joe every night that warmed her heart.

Three years of marriage hadn’t dimmed the love she felt, it had just cemented it. Like the stone walls of this castle, she felt they were built to weather the storms, to hold firm over time. At least, she hoped so.

He was already there in the apartment, when she opened the heavy wooden door from the stairwell landing.

‘Hi, gorgeous. Everything okay?’

‘Yes, not bad.’ Today had been a busy one, and she still felt a little vulnerable and emotional, what with Lucy and Dan’s terrible news yesterday, and of course her period coming on like that. She still felt the dull ache of it in her back, a reminder of her non-pregnancy. Oh well, onwards and upwards. She tried to smile, but wasn’t a good enough liar, obviously. Joe knew just what to do. He held his arms open to her with an understanding smile on his face.

But that just made her feel even more emotional. She didn’t know quite what was up with her, to be honest. A silent tear slipped from her eye as she went to him and pressed herself against his shirt, relaxing into his warm embrace, breathing in his aftershave smell that she knew so well. She stayed there in his arms. This was definitely one of the best parts of being married; having that other person to share things with, the bad times as well as the good. Things weren’t that bad, she knew that really, people were going through far worse in the world. It had just prodded an emotional raw-spot, that was all. But to get this comfort from Joe was just beautiful.

‘Love you, Mrs Ward,’ his warm, mellow voice spoke into her hair.

She pulled away very slightly to be able to look at him. ‘Love you, too, Mr Ward.’

‘Come on, I’ll get us some dinner started if you want? You look shattered.’

‘Aw, th-anks … I’m just tired.’

‘Well, after a day of working in the kitchens again, I’m sure you’ll want a break from the oven. But … you know the score, if it’s over to me then the repertoire is either pasta, frozen pizza or chili con carne.’

‘Pasta it is then.’ Something warm and comforting would be just fine, especially if it wasn’t cooked by her.

‘I’ll do my creamy chicken sauce one then. I popped out to the Co-op earlier, so I have all the ingredients to hand.’

He had a proud glint in his eye.

How sweet, he must have thought of that after their heart-to-heart on their walk up in the hills yesterday. She didn’t know quite what she had done to deserve him, but she was going to make the most of it.

‘So, put your feet up, madam. And I shall pour you a glass of vino.’ Joe slipped into an over-the-top Italian accent. ‘Rosso or Blanco.’

She had a feeling he was making up his own words, but it made her smile. ‘White would be lovely. Thanks.’

It was nearly time for Coronation Street, her favourite soap opera. So she did as she was told, sat down on the very cosy if worn sofa, slipped her shoes off, and curled up her legs. She was feeling a bit brighter already.

After a supper, eaten casually on their knees on the sofa, she leant in against him. She couldn’t wait for an early night and a bucket-load of sleep. But cuddling up for a little while longer here with Joe would be lovely too. She felt a glow inside, realising how much she loved this gorgeous man beside her. His long lean legs stretched out, his arm angled casually, yet protectively, around her. Heaven knows how Lucy must have felt when she had heard the awful news about her fiancé’s accident; Ellie remembered that sickening lurch in her own stomach like it was yesterday, when Joe had got trapped in that fire in the castle. How easily the things you loved could be taken away.

5

Five days to go until Bridezilla’s big day.

At the Monday Meeting, where the castle employees got together to discuss the week and tasks ahead, there was a tension in the room that was palpable. This week’s list was particularly long!

‘Have you sorted that bloody unicorn yet, gents?’ Deana asked Malcolm and Derek.

‘Well, we’ve had a brilliant idea, haven’t we, Derek … we just need to test it out.’

‘That sounds ominous,’ Lord Henry quipped with a wry smile. He knew his tour guides only too well. They certainly seemed to get themselves into all sorts of capers.

Ellie really didn’t want to ask what they were up to, but she did need to know that whatever it was, was right, and wouldn’t spoil the start of the big day for the bride. ‘Well, try it out today, and let me know, as soon as. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll need to come up with an alternative, and fast.’

‘Time’s running out,’ added Deana, ‘So it’d better be good.’

‘Anyhow,’ Ellie took up. ‘The orders are all in for the wedding buffet. We’ve got oysters coming across fresh on the day from Lindisfarne, and prawns and dressed crab. The bread’s going to be delivered on the wedding morning from the local bakery. Irene’s helping me make the two hundred mini quiches to go with that, and I’ve got three whole salmons to cook, two gammon joints to boil, which are roughly the size of Usain Bolt’s thighs, as well as a pile of salads and coleslaws to prepare. Most of the catering can’t be done until last minute, so the teashop team are going to have a hectic end of week. We’ve got mini scones to bake for the cream tea for the mid-afternoon, and with the wedding cake being changed last minute to sponge, that will have to be made fresh just two days before, and then iced.’ Ellie felt tired just talking about it all. So much to do, so little time.

‘Wow, you’ll be busy. It all sounds well organized though, so that’s great.’ Joe tried to keep his tone fairly formal at the Monday meeting, addressing Ellie the same as the other staff, rather than as his wife. Ellie preferred it that way.

Joe took a sip from his coffee mug. It had a Batman motif on one side and ‘Kapow!’ the other. He had a bit of a Batman thing, loved all the films, old and new. And if you needed passwords to get into his laptop, a variety of Holy Smoke, Boom or Kapow might just do the trick.

‘Oh,’ Ellie continued, ‘and I’ve got five extra staff recruited for the day before and on the day, to help with food prep and the waiting on. As well as Alan and his team from The Swan who’ll be setting up the bar as per usual in the Drawing Room, and then later in the marquee, plus serving the champagne cocktails on arrival, and for the toasts.’

Wendy, the florist from their neighbouring market town of Kirkton, was at the meeting too. ‘The flowers are all ordered for the bridal and bridesmaid’s bouquets, the chapel, the Great Hall, for the balustrades at the castle entrance, and I have sourced the however-many-hundred white roses I’ll need for the latest petal-scattering demand. And there’s now a rainbow theme going on, after the bride’s sudden switch-about, so it’s been rather interesting changing the bouquets to multi-coloured flowers.’

There was a general eyebrow raise and groan around the room. They were all praying that Bridezilla didn’t have yet another change of plan in the final few days.

‘Let’s just hope a new copy of Hello doesn’t come out in the next couple of days, and give her a load of new ideas.’ Deana voiced their concerns.

‘Hah – well, the castle will be closed to visitors on the day of the wedding, so it’ll be an exclusive here.’ Derek commented drily, ‘Maybe, the Hello team will arrive here to cover the wedding of the decade.’ His tone was ironic.

‘Or more likely the Kirkton Gazette,’ Malcolm quipped.

‘You never know what might happen with Bridezilla, but some press coverage might be likely, actually.’ Joe’s mood was serious, ‘So, we need to make sure everything goes by the book and is absolutely tip-top.’

Lord Henry was obviously still mulling over the initial conversation. ‘A unicorn … I hope you two haven’t come up with a bloody pantomime horse.’

The pair of them looked slightly shady.

Oh, bloody hell, thought Ellie. ‘It’s not, is it, Malcolm?’

‘No, no, it’s a real live animal, that’s all I’m saying ‘til we test it out.’

‘Why does that fill me with a sense of dread?’ added Deana.

The others just laughed, except for Joe and Ellie who were feeling decidedly nervous about the whole event. This could really make or break things at the castle, and their relatively fledgling wedding event venture. They had been up and running for four years now as a wedding venue, but it took a good while to establish a sound reputation. It had been building nicely so far, and they’d had some lovely events and feedback, but a few mistakes, and a disgruntled wedding party, especially one as verbal as this lot, could really spoil all the hard work they’d put in to build themselves a positive profile.

‘Well, the last thing we need is bad-mouthing in the press, or the wedding party holding back on the final balance, so everything has to go smoothly and be spot-on, okay.’ Joe looked deadly serious, cutting the laughter short.

‘Of course, boss,’ replied Derek earnestly. Malcolm was nodding.

‘We’ll pull out all the stops and do our best, Joe,’ Deana added.

There was a real respect for Joe and Lord Henry amongst the staff. And, though they joked about sometimes, they did all take pride in their castle work. They were a good team. And they had become to feel like family to Ellie.

‘Right, well then, there’s still the day-to-day work to get on with; the teashop, the castle tours, the shop, and keeping our regular visitors happy. I need to get across to the farm, to see how that’s all going too, so thanks everyone. Just call my mobile if you need me, and if any further support or advice is required throughout this week, just shout.’ Joe stated. ‘Right, well if there’s no more questions or comments, then it looks like we’ve all got a busy week ahead. So let’s crack on with it, then.’

As the room emptied a small sigh escaped Ellie’s lips. Yes, she’d been doing this for five years now, and the tearooms were becoming second nature, but a big, demanding wedding was still rather daunting.

Irene had stayed in the teashop kitchens baking her daily scone selection, whilst the meeting was on. There was a delicious smell as Ellie and Doris walked back in; sweet, warm and doughy, and a tray of cherry and almond scones stood cooling on a rack.

‘Cup of tea, ladies?’ she asked.

Was that woman a mind reader? ‘Oh yes, that’s just what I need. Thanks, Irene.’ And I might just have to split one of those scones, with a generous dollop of butter. Anyone fancy sharing a half?’

‘Yes, please.’ Doris had no fear of expanding waistlines. No point baking all these lovely goodies if you’re too afraid to eat them, she’d often mutter.

Five minutes later, Ellie was sipping her tea whilst preparing the ingredients for a batch of salted caramel cookies – a new addition to her range. Ellie liked to shake things up every now and again, and they’d been going down a treat with the customers; all chewy toffee with a crunchy, crumbly edge.

Irene had already baked a tea loaf and a chocolate cake to go on the counter display. Ellie would do a couple of lemon drizzles next too. They were expecting a minibus trip from the old people’s home in Kirkton for morning coffee at 11 a.m., so it was going to be a fairly busy day.

The supplies delivery was due in shortly too; her fruit juices, fresh salad stuff, vegetables, sliced bread for toasties, milk and more. The teashop days just seemed to flow. There was always something to keep them active.

Ellie also wanted to make a couple of batches of vanilla cupcakes ready to ice. It was still summery out there, early September and the sun was shining today, so she’d decorate one half with a swirl of butter icing, a chocolate flake and some hundreds and thousands, so they looked like the top of a 99 ice-cream cone. For the rest she’d add some soft-pink colouring to the frosting and scatter the tops with pretty sugar icing flowers. She liked to make seasonal changes to the food on offer so her regulars didn’t get bored with the same old selection, and it kept it fun for her cooking too. She felt so much more experienced now, but she still loved her baking. And, seeing the customers’ faces light up as they tucked in to one of her creations, still gave her a buzz and made it all worthwhile. She hoped to goodness she’d see a look of delight on Bridezilla’s face at some point (hopefully several!) over the weekend.

But, there were so many things that might go wrong … Ellie felt a bit shaky. Normally, she was pretty calm about her up-and-coming wedding events. Over the past four years the castle had hosted over forty weddings, and she had grown into the role of wedding coordinator. She had really begun to enjoy it, trying her utmost to make the wedding couples and their families’ days as special and unique as they wanted. They’d hosted a medieval banquet where all the guests dressed up, and they’d hired in a huge hog roast, they’d had a funfair wedding with clowns, stalls and fair rides, they’d even had a Strictly Come Dancing themed event with plenty of sequins, scooping necklines, and a ballroom-inspired reception. Yes, sometimes there were minor hiccups, but nothing Ellie wasn’t able to overcome with the help of the castle staff and Joe.

But there had been so many twists and turns on the lead up to this particular wedding, not to mention the tears and tantrums already! Ellie was catering for over 200 people with a ‘buffet to die for’ – Bridezilla’s words. Often they contracted out the catering, especially on the bigger events such as this, as it was such a lot to take on, but this time the bride had insisted, so Ellie was doing all that as well as coordinating the wedding day throughout, making sure every last request was met, and, she was certain some new requests would appear on the day too.

They really needed the income from this event. They were being paid far more than any previous wedding they had ever booked, basically as they were providing far more, with all the demands that had kept rolling in. But, if it all paid out, then Ellie and Joe might finally draw some good wages, and have enough to do up their apartment rooms, and finally get the central heating system in there working properly. There was one room in particular that Ellie wanted repainted and decorated, fingers crossed that they might be needing it soon, to make it into a nursery. She could dream still, couldn’t she? And plan a little for now, at least.

Boy, she couldn’t wait for Sunday night to come around – when the whole event would be over, the bridal party and guests all away, and she could curl up on the sofa next to Joe, with a large glass of chilled white wine.

Right Ellie, cool, calm, and collected, she reminded herself of her mantra of old. She had the castle team on her side, and several years’ experience now. She could only do her best for the wedding weekend ahead, and that would hopefully be enough to pull them all through! Go girl!

After a flurry of lunch orders, Ellie popped in to see how Irene and Doris were getting on out front in the teashop. There were still several tables occupied. Ellie waved across at a lovely old couple, who came in most weeks to share a toasted teacake and a pot of tea. She walked over to them.

‘Hello, Jim, Mavis. Are you both keeping all right?’

‘Oh yes, pet. We’re doing grand, thank you. Mavis has finally shifted that cold she had, so we’re back out and about again.’

‘That’s good. I missed seeing you last week.’

‘Lovely cup of tea, pet.’ Mavis raised her china cup with a smile.

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it.’

‘Our Sarah is coming home for the weekend, bringing the two grandchildren.’

‘Oh, that’ll be nice for you all. When did you last see them?’

‘Over a month now, back at the start of the school holidays. They live down in Lincolnshire, so it’s quite some drive.’

‘Oh well, it’ll be lovely to all catch up.’ That reminded Ellie, she’d have to go and visit her own family soon. The Bridezilla wedding and summer season in the teashop had taken over a bit. Time seemed to rush on, and weeks went by before you knew it. Her parents had popped up one Sunday a few weeks ago, but Ellie had been so busy in the teashop that she hadn’t had long to stop and chat with them. And they’d had to get back sharp, as Ellie’s dad had an early start on a big plumbing job for a housing company in Gateshead the next morning. But they did speak on the phone every few days, and yes, after the wedding of the century was over, then she’d arrange a couple of days off with Joe and go down to Newcastle and see them.

‘Well, we’d better not keep you, pet.’ Jim brought her back to the present.

‘Lovely to see you both. Have a super time with your family. Take care.’

Doris was bustling about refilling the sugar bowls, Irene taking through a new Victoria sponge, and topping up the cupcakes on display.

‘Everything been okay here, ladies?’

‘Fine, thank you,’ Irene answered happily.

‘No problems,’ Doris added from behind the counter, ‘other than a couple of screaming kids … Now we’ve just got rid of all the big ones back to school, we’re invaded with toddlers and babies.’ She gave a grimace.

Irene just raised her eyebrows at Doris’s moaning; there was always some complaint or other.

Ellie shook her head, used to it by now. ‘Well, I hope you were nice to them, Doris. They’re all our customers, small or large.’

With that Doris’s gaze shot pointedly across the room to a rather plump lady sat on her own in the corner, and gave a nod of her head. Ellie wished she hadn’t used that turn of phrase now.

‘Two slices of Victoria sponge and a cookie,’ the waitress mouthed, looking very like the comedian Les Dawson in his heyday.

Oh dear, Ellie tried her best to ignore her. ‘Right, well I need to nip out to the village shop and get some more milk to tide us over ‘til the morning’s order comes in. We seem to have had a run of milkshakes and lattes today. Anybody need anything?’

‘No, thanks.’

‘All fine.’

Ellie had her car keys in her pocket, so headed on out. ‘I’ll not be long.’

She went out of the side delivery entrance, got into her trusty old Corsa car, started it up, and turned out through an old stone archway onto the main driveway. She slowed, as she spotted something up ahead that seemed to be blocking the road. A few tourists had stopped to take a look at whatever it was, and were gathering on the grass verge. Ellie approached cautiously, then had to divert off the driveway, pulling over on to the verge. A white pony seemed to be the cause of all the bother, doing a bit of a jig, its ears back and its rider hanging on for dear life. And, oh dear God, there was Malcolm tugging the poor thing along by a lead rein, like it was some kind of bellpull, with Derek trying to keep up alongside.

Ellie got out of her car. ‘What on earth …?’

It was then she spotted the long pointed appendage, that looked like some kind of Blue Peter-style, papier-mache probe, which was strapped onto the poor creatures noseband, sending it cross-eyed and into a bit of a pony-strop. No wonder it was tossing its head about irritably.

The rider then leapt off the animal, probably just in time, as she was about to be bucked off by the looks of it. She snatched off her riding hat. Ellie recognized Lauren, one of the girls from the local village, who also helped as a waitress at the teashop.

‘There’s no way I’ll be riding that thing again,’ she shouted. ‘It’s bloody dangerous. It’s like Buckaroo up there. There’s no way you can put the bride on that thing. You’ll kill her.’

Oh dear God, this must be Malcolm and Derek’s masterplan for the unicorn. In hindsight, maybe they hadn’t been the best couple to put in charge of this particular task.

Malcolm was looking rather flustered, holding on to the pony’s rein for dear life, muttering, ‘Well, the bride insists she’s going to be riding the unicorn down the driveway.’

It wasn’t just poor Patrick the Pony – Ellie recognized him now from the farm down the road – who was unhappy. This was never going to work. Ellie shook her head in despair. She might have laughed along with the tourists who were watching it all with much amusement, had she not realized how much Bridezilla was likely to flip out if she didn’t get her unicorn grand entrance. There were only five days left to sort out this mess.

6

It was the day before the big Bridezilla wedding and Ellie’s mind was on a running loop of to-do’s: check all the deliveries came in, boil and glaze the hams for the buffet, bake as much as she could in advance for the afternoon-tea goodies. Oh yes, there was a buffet lunch and an afternoon tea to prepare for, as well as the outside caterers coming in for the evening event. She also had to make sure all the guest rooms were ready and looking tip-top – especially the suite which the bride would be using to get ready in, and the bridesmaids’ rooms that were along the same corridor. Oh yes, the advance party of bride and bridesmaids were arriving today, and Ellie had to be prepared.

The water began to run lukewarm and the shock of the cool water made her realize she’d been off in another zone. She’d better shampoo and condition quickly before the shower decided to totally run cold, which happened fairly regularly at the castle. Bloody hell, she hoped the hot water system would hold up for all the guests. Another concern to add to her list. Though the main guest wing had recently been given its own new boiler system, at last. Hopefully, it would all be fine.

She turned off the shower, and as she went to step out, realized Joe was stood there. Oh wow, stark naked in fact, holding a towel ready for her. He smiled at her as she stepped into the warmth of the towel and his arms, where they engaged in a surprisingly sexy kiss for this time of the morning. He was very naked just on the other side of that towel. Shame they both had to go to work. She pulled back gently from the kiss, smiling back at him.

He started towel drying her. She could feel his palms through the soft material moving over her body, loitering just a tad longer than was necessary on the breast area, which she had to admit was on the generous side. It used to annoy her that she was curvy and had trouble keeping the weight off of her hips and boobs, trying all sorts of faddy diets in her late teens and early twenties. But it never seemed to worry Joe, it was a positive bonus on his book. He often told her so.

Looking at him then, she realized that in the rush of everyday life, sometimes she forgot just how gorgeous he really was, dark hair still morning-tousled, toned physique, lean, fairly tall – no, not forgotten that wasn’t quite it, but she just didn’t notice like she used to. But moments like this could still take her by surprise, remind her how very lucky they were to have found each other. To be able to love each other.

She felt the nudge of an erection the other side of the towel, pressing low against her tummy, stirring something deep within her.

But there really was so much to do. A Bridezilla wedding to start cooking for, as well as all her Friday teashop routines. Damn. ‘Later … sorry, Joe. I really have tons to do.’

‘Such a shame. But I’ll take the later as a promise.’

She grinned at him. It was one promise she’d be more than happy to keep later on that evening. And the thought of it would keep them both smiling through what was bound to be a long day.

‘They’re here!’ Malcolm announced, poking his head around the teashop kitchen door. He’d been on lookout duty.

And so, the wedding weekend was about to begin. At least she’d got through all the lunch orders before Bridezilla and co arrived. Ellie quickly took off her apron, and ran from the teashop, across the courtyard, to the main castle entrance. She was just in time. A huge dark blacked-out windowed limousine pulled up at the bottom of the castle steps, followed by the biggest black stretch-Hummer vehicle she had ever seen. She could almost imagine the president of the USA stepping out from there, with his team of bodyguards.

But instead it was something far more intimidating. Platinum-blonde long curls and a short, rounded body, shrieking, ‘Get me the hell out of here. I feel car sick after all those bloody winding lanes.’

The limousine driver, who was now holding open the rear door of the vehicle for her ladyship, plus her mother, looked rather frazzled. Ellie smiled sympathetically across at him. That must have been some journey.

The bride-to-be and her mother were in the first vehicle, whilst out from the Hummer poured nine bridesmaids, who were stretching out their rather stiff joints, and then leaning back in to gather up a festoon of huge gowns, wrapped in special carriers. The last dress out was immense, layer upon layer of white taffeta and silk was apparent through its clear cover. It took two of the girls to carry it. No wonder the bridesmaids had been crammed in. The dresses would have filled the back of the vehicle alone.

Malcolm offered to help manoeuvre the gown into the castle, after phoning Derek quickly for backup.

Ellie smiled broadly at the arriving party, looking far more confident than she felt, ‘Welcome Chelsea, everyone, to your wedding at Claverham Castle.’

‘We need prosecco!’

It was 6 p.m., that same Friday evening. The Bridezilla bridal party had arrived at the castle two hours earlier. There had already been several demands; one being that an extra guest room was essential … for the dresses. The gowns were in fact the size of small houses, being of the Gypsy Wedding fashion style. The bride’s mammoth dress, and nine (yes, nine bridesmaids) only slightly smaller versions in … oh yes, you’ve guessed it, a selection of vivid colours to make up the colours of the rainbow (with a couple of repeats). They were certainly going to catch the eye tomorrow. Ellie had helped carry the robes into the spare room and was nearly flattened by the sheer weight of them. She seriously wondered how all ten of them were going to fit into the chapel aisle. It would be a squeeze.

And there was no way Bridezilla would be getting on a horse (or unicorn) dressed in that, or anything else to be fair. Ellie had already had to break that particular piece of news, highlighting the fact that a helmet would also have to be worn for health and safety reasons, which would of course ruin the bridal hairdo. The bride had finally conceded that riding in like Lady Godiva was maybe not such a good idea after all. Phew! Ellie had also explained the alternative suggestion for the unicorn entrance, which had been trialled only yesterday, and seemed to work fairly well – fingers crossed. Lauren had come to the rescue in that respect, with an alternative that looked the part at least.

And so, the wedding weekend had begun. Ellie’s mobile was unfortunately on speed dial.

‘So?’ Chelsea was shouting at her down the line.

‘Yes, right, prosecco … Well, I can certainly get that organized. I’ll just need to pop to the local shop in the next village.’

‘What do you mean you don’t have any here? What is this place?’

‘There’s plenty ordered in for tomorrow, which the landlord from the village pub will be bringing across. He’ll also be running a full bar service for the day, but we don’t have a bar of our own here all the time. But I can certainly fetch some for you, if that would help. It’s no trouble.’ It was hard trying to keep up a smiley voice through gritted teeth.

‘Yes, well don’t be too long. We’re getting parched here.’

‘So, how many bottles are you thinking?’

‘Ah, a dozen or so will do.’

A dozen. There were only eleven of them staying over tonight. Bridezilla, her mother, and the bridesmaids. The groom and all the guests were heading up first thing in the morning. Well, a bottle each then, nice going for a pre-wedding night. ‘Of course.’

Ellie had had fifteen minutes crashed on her sofa, with a small glass of chilled Sauvignon; she had definitely needed it, but that was all she was allowing herself, as she had to keep a clear head for the big day ahead and all of its many challenges. After having put the finishing touches to the wedding cake, and checking all the grand buffet arrangements, she had finally headed up to their apartment. She supposed it was a miracle she had managed fifteen minutes.

‘I’ll be back with you in about twenty minutes.’ She told Chelsea.

‘Twenty minutes? How’s that?’

‘Well, the nearest shop is five miles away, and I’ll need to nip in and pay.’ And that’ll be added to the ongoing bill.

‘Right then. Well, I suppose that’ll have to do.’ She sounded very disgruntled, and not even a mention of a thank you.

‘I’ll deliver it up to your rooms as soon as I’m back.’

‘Can we have ice buckets too?’

‘Of course.’ There were one or two stacked away in a cupboard in the teashop. She’d buy a big bag of ice at the shop too.

Still no thank you. Since when did Wedding Coordinator equate to slave?

Joe walked in from the apartment kitchen, where he’d just popped a pizza in the oven for them both. He’d obviously overheard the conversation. ‘I’ll go if you like. You’d better get something to eat. The pizza will be ready in about ten minutes. Just save me some.’ He smiled.

‘Thank you. You’re an angel.’

He gave a big grin.

‘An angel in a very sexy body,’ she added.

He grinned wider.

‘It’s on one condition though.’

Damn, she remembered her earlier promise. She may now be too tired to fulfil those particular needs tonight. ‘Yes?’

‘I don’t have to take the wine to their rooms. I have a feeling they’d eat me alive. It’d be like entering the lion’s den. I don’t think even my Batman underpants could protect me.’ He actually looked fearful.

‘Hah, you flatter yourself.’ But yes, he did have a point; ten hens pre-wedding. It could be a dangerous situation for any man!

‘Okay, twelve bottles of prosecco, actually make that sixteen, you never know.’ She could imagine a further phone call when the last bottle was emptied at midnight. ‘And a large bag of ready-made ice. Ring me when you get back, and if you help me get the bottles upstairs, I’ll take over at the threshold to the bridal suite.’ She laughed.

‘Deal.’ He flashed her a smile. ‘And you make sure you eat something while I’m out. Big day tomorrow and you’ll probably be working flat out.’

‘O-kay.’

Prosecco duly delivered, which seemed to settle the group down a bit, there was one more call-out to attend to an hour and a half later: a ‘horrific noise issue’. It was an owl; good old Hooter (or his offspring probably) was still on form out there in the woods. Not actually a lot Ellie could do about that, except offer cotton-wool balls to shove in their ears (Bridezilla did actually take her up on that) and a reassurance that it wasn’t an axe murderer out there, just normal nature doing its thing at night.

And then she managed six hours of rather unsettled sleep before her alarm went off at 5.45 a.m. It was going to be a hectic day and she wanted plenty of time to get organized. She had Irene coming in at 8 a.m. to bake two hundred mini scones for the afternoon tea. Doris (who’d been wrapping cutlery in ivory napkins till seven-thirty last night, bless her) was to be in at 8.30 to help set out the Great Hall with the assistance of Malcolm, Derek and Joe; there was to be a rectangular top table, and circular tables of twelve places set for the guests. The long antique wooden table that was usually the centrepiece of the room was to be covered for the buffet and set to one side (now, that’d take some moving – an all-hands-on-deck job), the French doors could then be opened out to the gardens where there was a marquee already set out for the bar, disco, and the hog roast company who were hired in for the evening. At least Ellie and her team got a break from the catering for the night do. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still on call! And, she was going to be back cooking on Sunday morning, doing a hundred breakfast rolls of sausage and bacon for the no doubt worse-for-wear revellers who had stayed over.

Wendy was coming in early morning too, to decorate the chapel, the balustrades into the castle, and the tables in the Great Hall with her floral magic. The displays and table decorations were then to be transferred out for the evening event to the marquee. The whole event had taken mega-organising skills, an ongoing (and ever-changing list) on a Word doc on Ellie’s iPad, and nerves of steel.

As she got down to the teashop kitchen Ellie was relieved to see that the three separate tiers of the iced wedding cake were still in one piece and looking perfect – she’d been fretting about it overnight. All she had to do was assemble them, but she was going to do that in the Great Hall. There was no way she was going to risk carrying it as a complete whole up the winding stairwell; so, she’d put the final touches to it in the next hour or so in situ, ready for the Wedding Breakfast. The delicate icing flowers, the unicorn modelled from sugar paste, and the arch of rainbow for the top, were all made and placed on greaseproof paper; with some rainbow piping and with a delicate hand it would look … well, like a rather gaudy rainbow cake to be honest, but pretty good. And it was what the bride wanted, so who was Ellie to judge.

An hour and a half flew by as she began preparing the buffet food. The Wedding Breakfast gourmet-buffet was to be served at 1.30 p.m. after champagne in the garden. The chapel service was booked for 11.30 a.m., and was usually just under the hour. She knew she’d be dashing about like a mad thing at that point, when she’d have a narrow window of free time to put final touches to the catering and check the Great Hall was ready, whilst the bridal party were otherwise occupied getting married. Then, she’d be back on call as maidservant to the bride. She was running a tight ship today and so far, by some miracle, hadn’t been called up to the bridal rooms as yet, though she had made a quick phone call to check all was well, and that they hadn’t needed anything at that point.

She’d spotted the hairdressing team and make-up artist turn up about an hour ago, so the ladies were probably busy getting preened. Deana was primed for reception duties, ready to meet and greet and show any guests through to the drawing room where they would congregate initially, and then to file them on to the chapel area. Ellie’s stomach gave a little churn. She sent up a little prayer to the heavens that today would go well.

7

The kitchens were a hive of activity. The oyster, salmon and prawns delivery had turned up, phew, another check on Ellie’s list. She and Irene had a quick cup of tea, which Ellie forced herself to have a slice of toast and butter with, or she’d be at risk at forgetting to eat. Nanna’s voice had already appeared in her head that morning nagging her about that.

Ellie headed up to the Great Hall to see how things were going. Joe, Colin – the gardener, Malcolm and Derek were trying to shift the heavy banquet table to the side of the room. There was a lot of huffing and puffing, and the gents were obviously struggling. So Ellie took up one side and nodded to Doris to help too. That seemed to add to the momentum, and they shifted it the few feet across it needed. Boy, was it heavy!

‘Crickey, that’ll do my back no favours at all, Malcolm,’ Derek muttered.

‘You’ll be fine, Derek. If Ellie can lift it, I’m sure you can.’ Malcolm seemed to have lost his patient edge this morning. This event was testing everyone.

‘Thanks, folks.’ Joe was trying his best to keep them all motivated.

A couple of minutes later, Wendy bustled in bearing two large boxes of flowers. As she opened the lids, the scent was gorgeous, filling the room.

‘We’re nearly there, Wendy. If you can hold fire for about fifteen minutes, we’ll have the other tables in and set up ready for you. Come on lads, step to it.’ Joe said.

Malcolm just raised his eyes to the heavens. ‘Slave labour.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Ellie added, with a wry grin.

‘So masterful though,’ Malcolm mouthed silently to Ellie over Joe’s shoulder, much to the amusement of the room.

Ellie’s mobile went off. Her eyes flicked to the screen, Chelsea calling. Here goes …

She walked to stand by the leaded windows that overlooked the rear gardens; the signal being better there.

‘It’s a total disaster! The electrics have all gone off, and we’re in the middle of blow-drying my hair. You’ll need to sort it out immediately,’ Chelsea shrieked, her voice so loud, Ellie had to hold the phone away from her ear.

It was probably just the trip switch. They would no doubt have an array of hair straighteners, hairdryers, nail dryers, music systems playing, the works, all on at the same time. The ancient castle electrical system just couldn’t cope sometimes. She’d go check it out and call in Joe if it seemed more complicated than that.

‘We’ve run out of prosecco, too. We’ll need at least four more bottles. I’ll need to calm my nerves after this fiasco. I’ll never be ready in time, now.’

‘O-kay. No problem.’ They had indeed drunk all sixteen bottles last night. But Ellie had seen Alan arrive to set up the Reception drinks in the drawing room. She’d call by and see if he had any spare bottles on the way through.

‘Okay, everything all right here for now, then? I’m off to the bridal rooms. Some electrical crisis. I should be able to handle it.’

‘Good luck.’ ‘Yes, best of luck.’ ‘Call me if you need,’ Joe added.

‘Will do.’

There were looks of empathy as she headed out.

Ellie tried to smile as she knocked and entered the bridal zone, but already the act was hurting her cheek muscles.

She was carrying the four bottles of bubbly as instructed, and popped them down on the side.

‘About bloody time.’

Manners maketh a man, echoed in Ellie’s mind. Some people, goodness … It was Nanna’s voice. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek.

‘Right, if you just give me two minutes, I’m going to check the fuse box for this area of the castle.’

She scoured the room before she left. Yes, guilty as charged; on the first glance, she saw a kettle plugged in, an iron set up on an ironing board, two pairs of ghd straighteners, three hairdryers, some kind of gel-nails drying machine, several iPods charging, and goodness knows what else was tucked away out of sight. ‘You can’t have all that equipment on at once, I’m afraid. The electrical system just can’t cope with it. Whilst the hairdryers and straighteners are going, maybe hold back from boiling the kettle, and charging your phones.’

There were groans all round.

‘Anyone would think we’re in the dark ages,’ Chelsea muttered, with a scowl.

‘Well, it is a castle venue.’ Ellie tried to hold her frustration at bay. ‘There are naturally some limitations. I’m sorry, but there’s not an awful lot I can do about it, other than warn you not to overload the system, or it may well trip off again.’ She felt like adding that electrics just weren’t in the original castle designs, and to remind them that they had chosen a rural castle venue specifically and not the bloody Ritz Hotel, but she thought the rebukes would just be too much.

Joe and the team did their best to keep the castle infrastructure as modernized as possible, and of course they were careful to keep everything up to date safety-wise, but rewiring and upgrading a whole ancient building like this would be a logistical nightmare, as well as running into many thousands of pounds, which they just didn’t have.

‘Sorry … Perhaps you could spread yourselves over a few of the rooms you have, that’d help too.’

‘Aw,’ Bridezilla pulled a face, ‘but it’s all girlies together, that’s the whole idea. Anyway, what are you waiting for, stood around here. Get it sorted. My hair’ll be a frizz-ball else. And I know who’ll to blame.’

Ellie pursed her lips as she turned to go, to stop the torrent of home truths that were threatening to spill out at that very second. Instead they burned in her brain, including several swear words.

She reached the fuse box down the passageway, and used a chair to climb up and take a closer look.

Damn.

It wasn’t just the trip switch gone. There was a suspicious smell of burnt plastic and one of the switches looked rather frazzled. This was a job for the experts, and there was no way they would be turning any electrics back on in this section of rooms for now. At least the other switches on the row seemed okay, there was no smoke, and the rest of the castle was still up and running.

She needed to get in touch with Joe ASAP, and get him to call out the local electrician; with any luck they might be able to get it fixed through the day, so the girls could at least come back and use their bedrooms that evening.

But for now, there were hairdryers, curlers, straighteners, and goodness knows what to get back into action. As well as a bride with a very large bee in her bonnet.

Ellie wasn’t quite sure how she was going to tell her, and felt her throat tighten and her mouth dry. Maybe she should go and put on the full metal suit of armour from the Edward I Chamber first …

‘Chelsea, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to move you and the girls. The electrics are burnt out at the trip switch and I need to get a qualified electrician to check and repair that before I can turn anything back on for this section of rooms.’

There was a second of silence and a glare that would melt steel.

‘Well, that is just ridiculous … You are joking!’

‘I have the rooms ready for you right now.’ Deana was already there, giving the guest rooms on the corridor above them a check over right now. Ellie had made a plea for help, phoning after seeing the damaged fuse box. The rooms could have a quick refresh during the wedding service, ready for the wedding guests who should be in them for this evening. Needs must.

‘I knew I shouldn’t have trusted this tinpot of an organisation with the most important day of my life,’ Chelsea shrieked. ‘Can’t you just bring in a generator or something? I’m not moving now.’

‘That might work, but not in the timescale we have. By the time we could possibly get one hired and set up, you’d need to be ready and at the chapel. The only option is to move upstairs. I have staff ready to help you transfer everything across.’

‘Humph! Well, I shall be letting my contacts at the Daily Star know about this shoddy hole of a place. And … I have an old school friend that works at BRIDES magazine.’

Ellie could see all her dreams of the castle becoming one of the best wedding venues in the area tumbling before her very eyes. Bad press would be disastrous. She swallowed the knot in her throat, and was determined not to shed the tear that was forming in her eye. ‘Right, Chelsea, we still have an hour and a half before you need to be at the chapel. We can move everything up in the next five minutes. What are the most important things you need to move across with you? We’ll get right on with it.’ Ellie tried her best to sound professional, though her heart was pounding.

‘I cannot believe this. So, I’m going to have to move across to another poxy room in my dressing gown on my wedding day. It’s shambolic.’

‘Come on Chelsea, let’s just let them move our things. I don’t think we have a lot of time or a lot of choice.’ The head bridesmaid tried to coax her friend to get going and get on with it.

Just then the bride’s mother waltzed in. Ellie felt her heart sink even further.

‘Chelsea sweetie, what’s going on here? Have you been crying?!’ She then fixed a cold stare on Ellie, her voice turning to stone, ‘What’s happened now?’

‘It’s a problem with the electrics,’ Ellie felt her voice quaver, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Sorry isn’t good enough though, is it? You’ve made my poor daughter cry on her wedding day. We won’t be forgetting this … will we, Chelsea sweetheart. In fact, we might just have to sue … There, there.’ Her voice went back to a simpering tone. In her bold black-and-white mother-of-the-bride two-piece there was a definite look of Cruella de Vil about her.

Deana marched into the room.

‘Okay folks, apologies. But let’s just sort this out as quickly as we can, and get you ladies and everything you need, to the other rooms as swiftly as possible. They are all ready for you. Malcolm and Derek are here to take up what you need. It’s just one flight up the stairwell. The day can go ahead exactly as planned, and we have an electrician on his way at this very moment. So bridesmaids, your rooms should all be ready again for this evening. And Chelsea, be assured that the bridal suite for you and Kelvin is unaffected.’ Deana gave a calm, confident, we’re-in-control look around the occupants of the room.

Ellie managed a smile, but still felt a bit shaky. She was so grateful for Deana’s calming influence at times like this. She realized she had much to learn about dealing with a crisis. ‘Thank you, Deana.’

Ten o’clock. Crisis resolved, and less than an hour until the moment of truth when the ‘unicorn’ was due to make its appearance, ready to transport the bride down the castle driveway for the start of her big day. The weather was holding fine at the moment, though there was a forecast of sunshine and showers. Ellie had moved the girls, dresses and the equipment, worthy of a whole hairdressing salon, up and into their new rooms with the help of Deana, Derek and Malcolm. So, the bridal hairdo was all finished, and teased into perfect place. Please, please, please let it stay dry, at least until Bridezilla got back into shelter of the castle.

8

Ellie was stood anxiously on the castle steps. Once the ‘unicorn’ was in sight she was to go straight up to the bridal suite and fetch Bridezilla to be ready on the castle steps for collection. The unicorn entourage were to do a loop, out through the side entrance of the castle, up the hill and through the little hamlet. Ellie had even primed some of their neighbours to stand at the roadside ready to wave and cheer, as Bridezilla had wanted a Royal Wedding feel. They would then come back in to the estate through the very impressive wrought-iron gates of the main castle entrance, down the tree-lined avenue, to meet with her bridesmaids who were to be dutifully waiting on the same steps for her, along with her father. They would then all troop on up into the castle and to the chapel, where hopefully the groom would be ready, or else.

Crickey, there were so many things might go wrong with this part of the day’s events. Tractors blocking the road, animal antics, always unpredictable, Malcom and Derek – enough said. At least Lauren was in control of the action now, and a certain ex-jockey racing stable owner, apparently, which had put Ellie’s mind more at ease. She still hadn’t seen the final plan in action herself, but was assured it would be a hit with the bride.

Ooh look, there was something happening away in the distance. A rattle of carriage wheels maybe? Ellie wasn’t sure whether to be excited or distraught.

There was a small procession coming down the tree-lined driveway. Leading the way was a rather magnificent white horse, and as it neared, Ellie could see it had a very impressive horned head – certainly not the same papier-mache article that Malcolm had created. Leading the horse was a rather handsome chap that Ellie had once met in the village stores – ah, so that was Anthony from the racing stables then. He was in full riding attire, tight beige jodhpurs, smart navy velvet riding jacket, over a crisp, white shirt, and stylish cravat. In fact, he looked rather like a character out of a Jilly Cooper novel – wow. He flashed Ellie a broad smile as they approached the castle steps.

A small gathering had followed them along the driveway, including Derek and Malcolm who were walking beside a rather quaint wooden carriage, and guess who was pulling it – Patrick the Pony. Lauren, was masterfully driving the little carriage, holding the reins confidently, with a unicorn-horn free Patrick, who at this point anyhow, seemed to be behaving himself.

‘Good morning,’ greeted Anthony in a lovely, warm Irish accent. If that voice, on top of the white-stallion unicorn and the Colin Firth-style riding breeches, didn’t have the bride as putty in his hands, Ellie wasn’t sure what would. She began to relax, just a little.

‘Morning. Thank you so much for helping out at late notice. Right then, I’ll just go and fetch the bride.’ And off she dashed, feeling a little like Cinderella herself.

Across the courtyard she scampered, and up the stone stairwell to the second-floor suite of rooms that the bride and her bridesmaids were now in. She knocked, with her fingers on the other hand crossed behind her back. Here goes.

‘Who is it?’ came a bark from the far side of the door.

‘Just Ellie, we’re ready when you are Br …’ Ooh, she nearly let it slip, ‘Chelsea.’ She opened the door to be greeted by hair tongs and straighteners, nail varnish bottles open at precarious angles on the furniture, handbags, jewellery, discarded underwear, empty bottles of prosecco, half-filled flutes, bouquets in rainbow-coloured hues, a heavy scent of ladies perfume, and twelve very glamorous, if slightly (she was being kind) over-the-top, ladies, plus a ragged-looking hairdresser.

Chelsea was stood in the middle of all this in her silk and taffeta dress, which seemed to take up the whole room by itself.

‘Just need my tiara fixed on. Amy, are you ready with it? I need it now,’ she shrieked across the room. The poor hairdresser flitted to her side, though it was hard to reach the bride’s head now with the meringue-gown creation in full expanse. Two bridesmaids and Bridezilla’s mother had to hold it down like it was some kind of caged animal, to let the hairdresser get to Chelsea and secure the tiara with its short, very sparkly train in place. The bride’s platinum blonde curls had been corkscrewed and then partly pinned-up in a sweeping mid-section on the top of her head. Ellie noted that her make-up was extremely heavy, in a trowelled-on shade of orange – if it rained out there now, they were in big trouble.

‘Have you got your something blue on, Chels?’ one of the bridesmaids asked.

Bridezilla flashed a lacy blue garter in response.

‘Oh, and don’t forget your clutch bag and bouquet.’

‘Got it. Are you all ready, my girls? I need you on the steps to see me off, and then you have to wait there while I do the tour. I hope that unicorn’s ready?’ She flashed Ellie a don’t-you-dare-get-anything-else-wrong-here stare.

Ellie felt her stomach shudder, but held her nerve. ‘Of course. It looks stunning. Just perfect.’

‘Good.’

Ellie and the maid of honour lifted the expanse of skirt to help Bridezilla get out of the room and down the stairs, whilst she was muttering, ‘Should have got this staircase widened, knowing there were going to be brides in their wedding dresses coming down here.’

Oh yes, knock down a thirteenth-century stairwell to accommodate a multi-meringue layered dress. Good idea. Ellie bit her tongue.

There was a clatter of stilettos on stone, it sounded like they were storming the castle, as they trooped carefully down and out across the courtyard. Joe was under strict instructions, keeping a careful eye on the drawing room holding area where the other guests were being plied with champagne, to make sure that neither the groom nor any of the other guests ventured out and caught sight of them. Derek was also acting as sentinel on the doors out to the courtyard.

Anthony, and the white-stallion unicorn (well, it was a gelding but no one was going to say anything!) were waiting patiently at the bottom of the steps. By some miracle Patrick, Lauren and the cart, were positioned in the right place just behind them – after doing two loops round the block to keep the restless pony happy.

‘Oooh.’ Bridezilla seemed quite overwhelmed. Ellie prayed this was in a positive way, but couldn’t be quite sure.

‘So, do I ride this gorgeous creature?’ Bridezilla looked teasingly across at Anthony.

‘If only,’ he replied smoothly. ‘But, my lovely lady, a riding hat would be essential, and that would so spoil your beautiful hairdo. So, your carriage awaits.’

God, he was a charmer. Ellie held back a wry grin.

He gestured to Patrick and his cart. Since Ellie had nipped upstairs, the carriage had had a quick makeover and been gorgeously decorated by Wendy, with floral twists of pink and orange roses, sprigs of delicate white gypsophila and greenery. There was a rainbow-coloured throw in place on the seat, and Patrick himself now sported a pink rose on his head collar, which thankfully he hadn’t seemed to have noticed.

Was this going to be the moment Bridezilla flipped? There seemed to be a universal holding of breath.

‘Oh, how lovely, and isn’t the donkey sweet.’

Thank goodness Patrick didn’t speak human, or he might have flipped – donkey indeed.

Anthony handed the lead rein of the white horse across to Malcolm, whilst he gestured for the bride to take his arm, ushered her to the carriage, and yes actually made a step out of his two hands, fingers locked together, for her to climb up to the seat. Bridezilla had a stunned and rather mesmerized look on her face, as she gazed back down at him. Ellie hoped she wasn’t now regretting her choice of groom.

The official photographer was snapping away in a photo frenzy.

‘And so, let the wonders of the day begin!’ Anthony announced.

The bridesmaids cheered from the castle steps as he took up the lead rein of the unicorn-stallion who began to walk steadily beside him ready for their village tour, Patrick plodding dutifully behind. Perhaps he was in awe of the unicorn too! What a marvellous pair they both made.

And, Ellie spotted, as the carriage set off, Bridezilla was grinning from ear to ear. Ellie nearly jumped up and made a huge air punch, but reined it in. Result! Thank you, Lauren, and thank you, Anthony.

When they returned twenty minutes later, Bridezilla was still smiling and waving regally (she’d obviously mastered the Queen’s technique on the way round). The two equines, Lauren as carriage driver, the rather gorgeous Anthony, and a beaming Malcolm (who was taking all the credit of course) brought her back to a halt outside the castle steps once more. The only problem was when Patrick lifted his tail, farted and did a superb pile of pony poo right in Bridezilla’s eyeline, just as she was about to dismount. Her face dropped for a nanosecond, but Anthony saved the day, reaching his hand out at just the right moment to help her down and take her mind right off what had just happened. Lauren was giggling, and Malcolm was cursing Patrick between gritted teeth for taking the shine off the whole event at the last moment.

Anthony gave the bride a very gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand, and passed her back to the gaggle of bridesmaids, who Ellie was certain were swooning on the steps. She gave him a grin and a thumbs up as she mouthed, ‘Thank you, so much.’ Then she was ready to take over for round two; the safe delivery of Bridezilla to the chapel and her groom.

The bride’s father was here on the steps now too, which had initiated a quick exit from Bridezilla’s mother. Apparently, the maid of honour filled Ellie in briefly, there had been a very bitter divorce some years back. Ellie might need to have a quiet word about the seating plan for top table then, and a quick rearrangement, or that might prove interesting. Why on earth hadn’t they thought to tell her beforehand?

Right, all she had to do was get the bride, her father, and her bridesmaids in the right line-up and to the chapel. She checked her watch, 11:27 a.m., perfect. They had a couple of minutes’ walk across the courtyard and up the steps into the main castle building. Then a further short walk along the corridor to the chapel, and that was it.

She’d give the bridal entourage a minute or two to gather themselves for now, and be a fashionable few minutes late … without panicking the groom. Mind you, if he had any sense at all, he’d have run a mile by now.

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