Found (13 page)

OK, I was wrong. New York is quite something – I knew that anyway – but Central Park offered more than I could ever have imagined. It truly is the perfect spot for a wedding.

After showing me a few more spots in the park, we finally found “The One”. I got super excited about Bethesda Terrace and Fountain, purely because Kevin runs through it in
Home Alone II
to try and escape from Marv and Harry. But, just as there were plenty of people around in the background of that scene in the movie, there were plenty of people enjoying that spot in the park, so I couldn’t see us getting married there. I thought we were on to a winner with the Ladies’ Pavilion – a rectangular, mint-green, cast-iron bandstand that’s a bit further round the lake from Wagner Cove – but then we went to Shakespeare Garden.

Colourful rows of purple and red tulips led us along paths lined with charming wonky wooden fencing; gorgeous, light-pink cherry blossom swayed gently in the breeze – the area was absolutely enchanting and, from a respectful distance, we watched a beaming couple get married in the twinkling sunshine. We left Shakespeare Garden with tears flowing down my face; Piers looked quite bright-eyed, too. 

I smile remembering the garden. If I had been told when Piers first proposed that we’d be getting married in a very public ceremony in Central Park, I wouldn’t have believed it. If I was told now that I could pick
anywhere
in the world to get married, I’d pick that spot. It instantly felt right as soon as we stepped out of the rickshaw and made our way into the garden.

‘You look happy,’ Pier remarks as he sits down opposite me. He’s been on the phone for the past twenty minutes.

‘I am.’

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. ‘Me, too.’

We’re sitting on a rooftop terrace on Central Park West, quite close to the Dakota building, overlooking the park. It’s a private members’ club that Piers has access to, and we’re scoping it out as a potential venue for after the ceremony. Decked out with contrasting wood and stone flooring, the rooftop is filled with lush green plants and creamy yellow flowers – the smell of frangipani fills the air.

Fairy lights are strung across the decking, though it’s too light for them to be switched on right now. Adding a few more bits and pieces here and there would turn an already decent venue into the perfect reception space. 

‘What’s the verdict?’ I ask. Depending on what Piers is about to say, my ecstatic mood may be knocked down a notch.

‘They have a 4pm timeslot at Shakespeare Garden, two weeks tomorrow. It’s $25 for the permit.’

‘I thought we didn’t need a permit?’

From what Piers had read up on, as long as we have under twenty guests we can get married in Central Park for free.

‘We don’t have to, but if we have one that means no one else can use that area at that time. Makes it a bit more private.’

That makes sense – a permit it is!

‘You booked it, right?’ Please let him have booked it. If he’s waited to ask me and we’ve lost the slot, I think I might cry. Then again, I cry at the drop of a hat at the moment.

Piers nods, and I squeal.

‘We just need to pay for the permit, which I can do in the morning, and then we have to apply for our marriage licence. We can do that this week – it’s valid for sixty days,’ Piers explains.

I squeal again. ‘This is awesome! And so simple.’ I frown half-heartedly.

‘What?’

‘Why didn’t we think of this sooner?’ Our first holiday together was in New York.

‘Remember the Rolls Royce?’ Piers whispers, moving to the chair next to me and planting a kiss on my face. He’s obviously thinking of the same trip.

I smile at the memory. ‘I remember it all.’

‘We could do that you know. Honeymoon suite at The Plaza. Wouldn’t that be nice?’ he growls, as he plants kisses all over my face, ignoring the fact we’re in public. His tone suggests it would be nice in a very
filthy
way.

I pull away from him with a smile on my face. ‘Let’s plan the wedding first,’ I say in a mock stern tone, ‘and then we can discuss the honeymoon. Let’s figure out the guest list.’

Piers moves back into the chair opposite me. He looks a lot better now, a lot more alive, though he still gets tired very quickly. ‘OK. There are your parents, Giles and Annabelle, Nigel, Ob–’

‘And Jade,’ I interrupt with a scowl on my face, but really my scowl is because of Piers mentioning Nigel. I’d rather he didn’t attend our wedding – please let him be bogged down with work or sailing in the Med somewhere – but I understand that Piers will want his best friend to be there on his wedding day. I’m super grateful he asked Giles to be his best man though.

I see Piers write down Jade on his list.

‘Lydia?’ he asks.

I shoot him a look.

‘Oh, of course.’

She would have definitely been on our wedding guest list if she hadn’t stolen my phone and sold out Tabitha to the tabloids. I will never forgive her for that.

‘Tabitha!’ I exclaim. ‘We have to have Tabitha here.’

Piers writes her name down.

‘And maybe stick a plus one down for her,’ I add. ‘Now, let’s see, who else?’ I mentally go through the names Piers has already mentioned, ticking them off on my hand. ‘Felicity,’ I automatically say after I’ve recalled my parents and Ob, and then I realise what I’ve said. ‘Oh.’

Piers puts down his pen, reaches over and squeezes my hand. ‘She’ll be there in spirit,’ he says, ‘though you could always invite Etta...’

We both chuckle at that.
As if.

‘Actually,’ Piers says, ‘I have something pretty radical to suggest.’

‘Go on.’

‘How do you feel about eloping?’

‘Isn’t that what we’re doing?’

He nods. ‘Sort of, but I mean really eloping. Just you, me, and some random witnesses.’

I raise both eyebrows as I lack Piers’ excellent skill of raising just one. ‘My parents would kill us. Mum’s already excited about a New York wedding, when she’s not telling me to watch out for muggers or rapists. They’ve been wanting you to take me off their hands for a long while,’ I joke, ‘so they have to be there.’

I roll my eyes as I think back to Mum’s hopeful questioning every anniversary, birthday and Christmas. She’s wanted us to get married for so long.

‘OK, how about your parents, Giles and Annabelle? Just the immediate family.’

‘We could have a few friends...’

I would like Tabitha and Ob there, even though asking them means that Ob will come with Jade and Piers will, obviously, invite Nigel.

‘... or not,’ I finish. ‘Are you really OK with just those guys?’

When I think back to our proposed wedding at Tharnham Hall and how Piers insisted that we needed the biggest space they had because he had so many clients to invite, this is a stark difference.

‘I am if you are but, if you’re not, say the word and we can get married wherever you want. With whoever you want there.’

‘I want to get married in the park,’ I state firmly.

Right now I don’t mind where I get married as long as I’m marrying Piers. OK, and I can wear my awesome wedding dress. The moment I spotted that dress I knew I would have to wear it down the aisle... well, garden path as it is now. It’s a beauty, and I can’t wait to wear it.

‘What else needs sorting then?’ Piers ask.

‘I have a dress and you have your wedding suit,’ I list. ‘We have a place to get married but we need an officiator.’

‘They’re emailing me a list.’

‘Awesome!’

‘Yep, so as long as the food is tasty here then we have our reception venue. We don’t need drinks on the rooftop if we’re not having lots of guests,’ Piers says thoughtfully.

‘Is that tragic?’

‘Honestly?’

I nod, nervously, a wave of sadness suddenly hitting me. For a second I believe that Piers had now decided he doesn’t want to marry me, which is ridiculous. I can’t even blame the jet lag for this, but maybe it’s my hormones.

My tummy has been feeling quite grouchy, and I blame the food – I’m eating like a glutton. If I’m not careful I won’t be fitting into my wedding dress and will have to show up in something off the rack. That thought will put me off eating my usual waffles and fruit in the morning. Weirdly, I’ve gone off bacon – I suspect because I’ve eaten too much of it recently.

‘I’m shattered, Arielle. I feel like I could sleep for a week just from going around the park today
on a rickshaw
. I don’t think I can manage a full-on wedding, followed by an indulgent meal, then drinking and dancing past midnight. You’re important to me, and our families are important to me, so that’s all I want – a beautiful ceremony with you and them, followed by a small celebration. I just want you to be my wife already,’ he says fiercely.

I nearly start crying at this, too.

‘That’s all I want,’ I say as I swallow a big lump of emotion and try and pull myself together. I do not want to start crying again. ‘So that leaves only a photographer, flowers and a cake to organise.’

‘Pretty much, though do we even need a cake? Can’t we just have pudding?’

I think about it. If there are only six of us, we don’t, but I’m definitely having flowers. The flowers and cherry blossom in Central Park are so pretty that I must have an arrangement or two at the reception to complement them, plus I need a bouquet and some flowers in my hair. I probably would have worn a veil for a Tharnham wedding, but now it seems too extravagant for our simple outdoor ceremony. I just hope it doesn’t rain! I grab the pen off the table and scrawl down “nice brollies” on Piers’ list.

‘Dessert it is, but I get to pick.’

This has suddenly become a very simple wedding, and I love it.

‘Wow, why did we need over two years to get a wedding sorted out at Tharnham?’ I joke.

‘We should get that cancelled.’

‘Oh! That reminds me. Ob wanted to know–’

‘I’m so sorry to disturb you, Miss Lockley. Mr Bramley.’ We’re interrupted by one of the staff. ‘Your table is ready now, if you’d like to follow me.’

Excellent, it’s food tasting time! I conveniently forget my earlier worry about fitting into my dress.

‘The photos of the gardens look wonderful,’ Tabitha gushes to me down the phone. ‘You’re going to have a beautiful wedding.’

‘And you really don’t mind not coming? You weren’t just being polite earlier on?’ I ask with crossed fingers. I feel terrible for uninviting her to the wedding.

‘With everything that has happened here...’ I hear her sniffle down the phone as she pauses, ‘I really need to be with my family right now. It’s more than fine. Honestly.’

‘I’m so sorry–,’ I begin, but Tabitha cuts me off.

‘Arielle! What did I say? I don’t want to talk about any of that. It’s bad enough having to live through it all.’

She says it in a kind tone, but I know that I’ve upset her by pressing her.

‘Look, I have to go, but I can’t wait to see all the photos and hear all about it. You’re going to have a magical day.’

‘Thanks, and thanks for emailing across those make-up artists and hairdressers. I really appreciate it.’

‘My pleasure. Take care, and text me as much as you want. I might not be able to answer the phone with everything that’s going on, but I can text, and I’ll see you when you’re back in London. Things should be a bit calmer by then. We can celebrate.’

We say goodbye and I make my way through to the living room where Piers is reading his book and not doing his physiotherapy exercises.

‘Done!’

‘How’s Tabitha?’ Piers asks as he puts his book down. He was the one who spotted the article about her family’s current situation. I wish I could be there for her – she’s having the shittiest time right now – but she’s as evasive as ever about her personal life.

‘She didn’t want to talk about it, but she’s holding up as best as she can.’

‘So it’s only Obélix left that you need to uninvite?’

I frown. ‘I never really invited him in the first place. OK, I did,’ I admit as Piers pulls a disbelieving face at me, ‘but he’ll understand, especially if we say that he can use our Tharnham booking.’

‘Of course he can. They can have our deposit money as their wedding present.’

Piers lives in another world sometimes. As if you spend thousands of pounds on a wedding present... Well, maybe he does, but we’ve never spent that kind of money on friends before and I’m not paying for Ob and Jade’s wedding because Piers is clueless. If Piers doesn’t go back and do the same sort of work, which I don’t want him to do as it’s too stressful, then we need to start being a bit more careful with money.

‘We’ll buy them something for the baby,’ I say dismissively, ‘and they can pay us back the deposit at their leisure.’

Let’s face it, Jade couldn’t even afford to pay her vet bill – the whole reason there’s going to be a wedding – and Ob can’t be earning that much since he only qualified as a vet a few years ago.

I fire off a quick text to Ob: ‘
You can use our booking! Sorry for the radio silence – we’ve been trying to pull together our New York wedding here. We’re keeping it low-key; just my ’rents, Giles and Annabelle. We’ll celebrate when we get back home though. Hope you don’t mind missing out. We would have had you here if we could. x’

Bugger, I should have asked about Jade. I quickly pick up my phone again and tap out another text:
‘How’s Jade? Any scans done, or is it too early?’

‘How did Nigel take it?’ I ask.

Piers shrugs – such a male response. ‘Not a problem. He sends his love.’

I bet he does.
Tosser.
Nigel and I have never seen eye-to-eye. In fact, I can recall quite vividly him “congratulating” me on our engagement by implying that I was a whore. His
charming
presence won’t be missed by me, that’s for sure.

‘Oh, and Giles wants to know if he can bring Rhonda and Zlata to the wedding?’

‘The nanny and the potential Mrs Bramley, huh?’ I joke. ‘Yes, of course he can.’

At least Giles hasn’t gone for the hideous cliché of making the nanny the new Mrs Bramley, not that he would stand any chance with Zlata – Annabelle’s Polish nanny is very happy with her girlfriend. I’m glad that Giles may have found someone though. He’s been alone for far too long; inviting Rhonda to the wedding is an excellent sign.

‘That way Giles and Rhonda can still celebrate with us when Annabelle needs to go to bed.’

An excellent point, not that Piers needs to sell this to me. I know how Annabelle gets when she is tired. I’m hoping the magic of Central Park will keep her enthralled enough to stand there looking pretty in her bridesmaid dress during the ceremony and photos, but I have visions of her tearing along the path and splashing about in the shallows of the lake as I make my way down the “aisle” – all photos with Annabelle in them featuring a lot of mud and grass stains.

We met our officiator yesterday, so that’s all confirmed, and we’re going to have a go at writing some vows tomorrow.

‘Maybe we should offer Giles the Tharnham booking since he’s bringing Rhonda to the wedding,’ I tease. ‘Things must be getting serious between them.’ My phone buzzes and I pick it up. ‘Ah, too late, Ob would be delighted to use it. He sends his thanks and promises to buy us the best wedding present ever.’

‘Tell him it’s our pleasure.’

‘Oh, I’ll text him later. We need to get to the hospital for your appointment, don’t we? Did you do all your exercises?’

I nod at his book that’s upturned on the coffee table. Piers has to do daily walks to increase his stamina, as well as shoulder exercises and breathing exercises to help him recover. He lets this slide though; irritatingly, he never lets a “quick” phone call from the office slide.

His priorities alarm me, and I still think him working from home “once in a blue moon” – more like several hours a week – is too much. He’s looking a little washed out again.

He smirks. ‘I did.’

I stare at him in disbelief.

‘I did,’ he repeats more firmly. ‘You were on the phone to Tabitha for a while.’

Ah, OK, maybe he did. ‘How’s your chest feeling?’ I ask.

‘I have that weird pulling sensation still, but they said last time that it might take a few months to go.’

He shrugs as I study him.

‘Hmmmm, fingers crossed it’s gone by the time we get back to London.’

‘I doubt it.’ He sounds glum now.

‘And you were the one who was fighting to fly home the week after you were discharged,’ I tease, hoping my silly grin will make him smile.

‘I didn’t know it would feel like this once I weaned myself off the pain medication,’ Piers confesses. ‘There’s no way that I would have been able to fly. I’m still not able to stay awake all day, as it is.’

‘Have you thought anymore about work?’ I dare to ask.

‘We should get to the hospital,’ Piers says sharply, suddenly defensive.

I know he doesn’t mean to lash out but the issue of his work has become rather a sticky point of contention between the two of us. I’ll let it slide for now as he’s right, we really do need to head to the hospital, but it’s not a conversation Piers can avoid for much longer with me. He needs to start facing up to his future, even if it’s a future that’s going to be very different to the one he had always envisioned.