The Winter Wedding (22 page)

I sat down on the sofa, the mug of hot chocolate in my hands, and started to think that maybe I’d be fine just as I was, in jeans and my oversized wool jumper. I wished Amber was around to
nudge me out of the stupid self-pity. Because this wasn’t getting me on a bus across town. And I wasn’t feeling Christmassy at all. I tried one of the biscuits – crisp on the
outside but fresh and soft on the inside. They were good. This, at least, was a start.

The intercom buzzed. Startled, I got to my feet and went over to it.

‘Hi Hazel,’ came a voice. ‘It’s me.’

It wasn’t entirely clear, there was a little road noise in the background. It sounded like Ben.

‘Hey,’ I said back.

‘I’ll buzz you up.’

I heard the door click open and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. I opened the door to let him in. I wondered what he was doing back in London, and why he hadn’t phoned.

Then I saw that it wasn’t Ben approaching up the stairs at all – it was Josh.

‘Hi,’ he called out cheerfully.

It was good to see him – his jacket was turned up against the chill temperatures outside, but there was warmth in his smile. ‘Arctic conditions out there this evening. Looks
beautiful, though. Sorry to drop by unannounced, but there was something I wanted to give you. OK if I come up?’

‘Of course,’ I said, waving him in through the door. We paused for a moment, then he kissed me on the cheek. It was something we’d never done when we were working together, but
now felt like a natural way to greet each other. His cheek felt cool. His chest brushed just the tiniest bit against mine, and a spark flickered through me. Just a silly physical reaction. That was
all.

‘I wanted to drop these in,’ Josh said, passing me a folder.

I took them from him, trying to recall what they were likely to be.

‘The photos,’ he reminded me. ‘You asked Sarah for some of the two of us, and our friends, you thought they might be nice for decorations at the venue?’

‘Oh yes,’ I said, remembering the conversation. ‘Sorry, bit absent-minded this evening.’

I opened the folder and had a quick look. There at the top was a photo of Sarah and Josh in front of the Sacré-Coeur, looking blissfully happy. ‘I look forward to having a look at
these. I think they’ll be great for telling the story of your relationship, so that everyone gets a glimpse into what makes the two of you, you.’

‘I think it’s a nice idea. Sarah’s been pretty busy, you know how it is this time of year. And now she’s gone to Berlin for the weekend with a friend. But I found these
in our photo albums.’

‘Great.’ I put the folder to one side. ‘Do you want some hot chocolate? I just made it.’

‘Sure,’ he said, slipping off his jacket, ‘OK if I put this on your radiator? It’s wet through with snow.’

I nodded, and got the drink for him. We sat together on the sofa. ‘Not long now,’ I said. ‘Is it all starting to feel real yet?’

‘Getting there,’ he said, with a smile.

‘Your family OK about it all now?’

‘They’re coming round. I mean it’s still upsetting that my grandma won’t be able to make it . . . and it’s affected a few people on my side of the family
–’ He glanced down at the floor. ‘But we’re doing what Sarah wants, and like she says, she’s the one I’m marrying. But it’s complicated. I guess you make
compromises, don’t you?’

He sighed, and sat back. ‘Amazing hot chocolate, Haze. How come you never made this when we were working together?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve rediscovered a few things, since I left work. Baking, cooking, daytime pyjama-wearing . . .’

He smiled. ‘Living the dream, eh.’

‘I’m lucky enough to like the people I work with too, and that helps.’

‘Whereas I’m stuck with all the people you decided you didn’t like.’ He laughed good-naturedly.

I smiled.

‘What are these,’ he said, picking up the tickets I’d left out on the coffee table. ‘
The Nutcracker
? The one your sister’s in, right? Nice,’ he
commented.

‘Yes. It’s been getting great reviews, Lila’s thrilled. I’m looking forward to it.’

He glanced at the date as he put them back down. ‘Hey, these are for tonight – am I keeping you?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘Well, yes and no.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘I was supposed to be going with Amber, but she’s been busy up at the cake shop, with her mum, magazine shoot – fantastic opportunity and . . .’

‘There’s one going?’ Josh said, his eyes brightening. ‘I mean . . . it’s horribly presumptuous of me, obviously. I’m sure you’ve had a better offer. But
I’ve always wanted to go to the Royal Opera House.’

‘You’re serious?’ I said.

I’d lost sight of my moral compass. Josh seemed to think this was fine. I mean, we had been friends for a while. And just because he was getting married, it didn’t mean he
couldn’t have female friends . . . Or did it?

‘Sure,’ I said, before I could change my mind. ‘Let’s go.’

I didn’t go for the red dress in the end. Josh persuaded me to keep the jumper, so I switched up to some black jeans and put sheepskin boots on with it. I pulled on my
biggest coat, a vintage fake fur that always made me feel like Flossie Teacake. It wasn’t what I’d pictured myself going to the ballet in, but the moment we got outside and the icy
blast of December snow hit, I was grateful I had followed his advice.

‘Sod the bus. It’s too cold for standing at a bus stop in this weather.’ He flagged down a black cab and we jumped inside.

I sat down on the seat beside him and looked out as the city took on a new, wintry look, a frosting of white gathering on the car roofs and postboxes.

‘I’ve never actually been in a black cab before,’ I confessed, turning to him.

‘You’re kidding,’ he smiled. ‘Never?’

‘Not once. When Lila and I first got here we were scrimping and saving. I kind of prided myself on getting to know the bus routes so well.’

‘Not even at work, though?’ he asked.

I shook my head. ‘Come on, Josh. We both know I was way too junior to be expensing things like that.’

‘Well, here we are,’ he said, his eyes creasing as he smiled. ‘I feel kind of honoured to be sharing it with you.’

We watched the city, the excited rush and bustle of people trying to shelter from the weather, and hurrying home with bags of Christmas shopping. We sat in companionable silence, until the taxi
pulled up near to the Royal Opera House.

Josh and I walked up the steps and in through the main entrance, and I felt a wave of nerves.

‘You’re crossing your fingers,’ he said, glancing down at my hand.

I smiled, as I saw he was right. It had been unconscious.

‘For Lila?’

‘Yes. For Lila.’

I didn’t need to, of course. Lila’s performance was exquisite – and it wasn’t down to silently wishing her luck – it was because she was dedicated
and brilliant at what she did. Watching her glide across the stage, I felt a swell of pride. That was my sister up there – the girl I’d grown up with, shared almost every special moment
of my life with. And now she was a star.

Lila didn’t need my help any more. She didn’t need saving. She didn’t need anyone’s help at all. She was going to be just fine.

I was conscious of Josh’s presence beside me. Feeling relaxed, and calm in his company, and delighting in the way he enjoyed the show, and the surroundings. I was glad he’d asked to
come. I imagined the empty seat that would have been next to me, and was glad that it was filled by him.

When the show drew to a close, and the performers came to take a bow, Josh and I filed out into the foyer with the rest of the audience. ‘Drink?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘But let’s have one backstage.’ I smiled at him mischievously, and led him around to the stage door.

Lila met us there, like we’d agreed, and led us through into her dressing room. ‘I’m so glad you came,’ she squealed. ‘And who’s this?’ she asked. Her
eyes were bright, intrigued.

‘This is Josh,’ I said, introducing them. I needed to dispel the misunderstanding right away, because things were starting to feel weird. ‘I’m his . . . well, we’re
friends.’

‘Hazel’s my wedding planner,’ Josh said simply.

Lila nodded. He probably didn’t notice the subtly raised eyebrow, which I knew was directed at me, Lila’s trademark expression of suspicion and/or disbelief.

‘Anything to drink back here?’ I asked. I realised my error immediately. Surrounded by ballerinas . . . it was looking a little unlikely now.

‘No,’ Lila said, her face breaking into a smile. ‘Get me out of here,’ she whispered. ‘Because that was the last performance of the week for me, and I could really
do with one.’

We met Ollie at a pub around the corner, and I ordered in mulled wine for us all.

‘So, what did you think of the show?’ Ollie asked.

‘It was brilliant,’ Josh answered. ‘I don’t know much about ballet, I have to admit, but I thought it was great.’

‘I’m with you there,’ Ollie said. ‘I didn’t have a clue about it before I got together with Lila, but she’s totally sold me on it. I’ve already seen her
in this one twice, and I must’ve seen her practising it in our bedroom over a hundred times. I don’t think I could get tired of it.’

‘Thanks, guys,’ Lila said. ‘I appreciate the support. I don’t know what I’ll do when this is all over. With the wedding, then this – this year’s all
been a bit of a dream, really.’

‘Of course, your wedding,’ Josh said, ‘Hazel mentioned that to me – congratulations.’

‘Thanks,’ Ollie said. ‘Best day of my life. And you’re in wonderfully safe hands with Hazel in charge of yours, I promise you that.’

‘She’s been fantastic. Dealt with more than one drama and kept us both calm, which has probably been the most important thing.’

‘Where’s the wedding going to be?’ Ollie asked.

‘Cuba,’ Josh said, ‘on the beach.’

‘Oh fantastic,’ Ollie said. ‘Great way of escaping all those troublesome family members and friends, eh.’

‘Yes.’ I still saw it there, the tug of conflicting emotions in Josh’s eyes. ‘Just a select few there on the day. That’s how we wanted it.’

‘You’ll be the only ones in London with a tan in January,’ Lila said. ‘Lucky things.’

‘You going too, Hazel?’ Ollie asked.

I shook my head. ‘No. My job will be done by then.’

That evening, Josh walked me home. Amber had texted to say she’d be staying at her parents’ house overnight, so the flat was empty.

‘Do want to come upstairs for a drink?’ I asked.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Why not?’

I poured us out a glass of wine each, then excused myself to go to the bathroom.

Once in there, I gave myself a very stern look in the mirror. I would design a brilliant, inspiring wedding for these two, just as if they were any other clients.

I had to keep this friendly, and professional. It probably wasn’t my best idea inviting him back in the first place, but now he was here, I had to keep control.

I heard Josh’s voice as I emerged from the bathroom: ‘Wow.’

I looked towards the living room, but it was empty.

I stepped out into the hallway, and felt a rising sense of panic. I looked into my bedroom, one of the only places he could be. But he wouldn’t.
Would he?

‘Sorry,’ he said, ducking his head out of my bedroom. ‘Crappiest manners ever. Apologies. Your alarm clock started going off and so I ducked in here to switch it off.
Didn’t mean to snoop around. But Hazel—’ he took me by the hand and pulled me into the room. As he did so a shot of electricity bolted through me, and I felt a flush rise to my
cheeks.

‘These are wonderful, Haze.’

I was confronted by my own sets – the ones I’d carefully constructed over the years, the tiny dolls’ houses that Sam had once mocked. I’d left my closet open. The flush
in my face heated up until my ears were burning.

‘You shouldn’t have come in here,’ I said. ‘This stuff . . . it’s not . . . I mean it’s stupid. A stupid hobby . . .’

‘Don’t talk rubbish,’ Josh said, turning to me. ‘These are beautiful. These are some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. No wonder you were so good at
work, and with weddings – you’ve been running people’s lives the whole time, here.’

I caught his eye, in spite of my slight embarrassment at how spot-on his comment was, and was rewarded by a genuine smile. ‘Hazel. These are wonderful. You’ve got what it takes to
make it as a set designer, and you’ve been hiding your talent away for far too long.’

Josh left at midnight but I wasn’t tired. I picked up the folder of photos and started to look through it.

Josh and Sarah at their graduation.

Josh and Sarah with their families at Christmas.

Josh and Sarah on a summer picnic with friends.

Josh and Sarah, just together – their faces pressed together as they took the selfie.

What was I doing?

I was going to finish planning their wedding, professionally. Just as if being with Josh– I thought of his smile, and my heart lifted a little. Just as if being with Josh made me feel
nothing at all.

Two days later, Josh and I were at a café in town, the coffees between us completely untouched.

‘What do you mean, missing?’ I said.

‘She was due back from Berlin yesterday, but she never arrived. She hasn’t returned any of my calls, and now it seems like her phone’s off.’

‘Let me try it,’ I said. I picked up my mobile and called through to Sarah, but it went straight to answerphone. ‘Same thing here. Have you spoken to her family?’

‘Yes, I called her mum this morning, but she was typically laidback about the whole thing. She said Sarah’s a free bird, and I shouldn’t try and keep her caged, something like
that.’ Josh said, shaking his head.

‘Well that’s all well and good provided she’s not in a ditch somewhere,’ I said. I saw the expression on Josh’s face and hurriedly tried to take the words back.
‘Sorry. I meant . . . Look, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just working a few things out in her head right now. She wouldn’t be the first bride to need some
space.’

‘You think she’s got cold feet?’ Josh said.