I glanced at the turtle man, still smiling as he pointed to his cup. Then back to Perry, watching us while he waited for Marilyn, no doubt wondering why the waitress hadn’t moved.
I straightened my shoulders, desperately tried to clutch on to some perspective, and stepped out from behind the bouquet. Pouring the man his coffee, I quietly leaned over and asked the table if there was anything else I could help them with. There wasn’t. I declined from enquiring if anyone happened to have ateleporter. Standing back up again, I turned to catch Perry’s eye. He coughed, and tapped his glass again.
‘Well, while we’re waiting – and please, do excuse Faith for needing a moment, she’s had a very tiring day – I would like to thank Aunt Eleanor for hosting such a fabulous party, and my parents, Larissa and Milton, for all their help with the wedding plans so far. And, if any of you happen to have 15 August free, we might have another little do to invite you to.’
His voice faded away as I rushed out of the tent and into the bushes for the last time. Trying to yank myself together, I ran my fingers through my hair, slipped into the dressy shoes, and went back to the tent. Marilyn caught up with me at the entrance.
‘Deep breaths.’
‘No time.’
‘Yes, time. Three deep breaths. Think about choir rehearsal. Breathe out the panic and breathe in the cool, calm, courageous Faith who is loving her engagement party.’
‘He saw me.’
‘And covered for you. Breathe.’
I took a couple of trembly breaths.
‘Better. Now, go knock ’em dead.’
The marquee burst into applause as I stepped back in, again apologising with a smile as I made my way to join Perry.
‘Morning sickness,’ one of the Woodbridge witches hissed as I passed. ‘That would explain a lot.’
Larissa pursed her lips, her eyes glittering stones. ‘If your girlfriend has quite finished serving our guests their coffee, Peregrine, could you please get on with it and make a toast.’
Perry’s eyes darted back and forth between his parents and me, as the guests collectively held their breath.
‘Um, right. Yes. Of course. So, Faith is, well, a very… I mean, I’m very happy to say that, um…’
Peregrine Upperton, millionaire businessman extraordinaire, floored by the steely gaze of his mother.
‘Well, Peregrine, what precisely are you happy about?’ she asked, with a voice that could crack a walnut.
‘Hold on a minute.’ Eleanor stood up, brandishing her glass at me like a weapon. ‘You’re not Faith. You’re the staff.’
My brain tried to scrabble for something to say, but the words were like leaves being tossed along the pavement, always a gust in front of me.
‘She’s an imposter!’ Eleanor tried to push her way around the table to where I stood, frozen, my back to the room. Her chair went flying as two hundred guests gasped as one.
Milton began squeezing round the table to intercept. His wife remained firmly seated.
‘Where is Peregrine’s real fiancée and what have you done with her?’ Eleanor ducked her head around Perry, attempting to shake off his restraining hands.
‘Good question,’ Larissa muttered, smirking at nobody in particular.
‘No, Aunt,’ Perry implored. ‘This is Faith, my fiancée. She sat and ate with us, remember?’
‘Yes! All part of the scam, no doubt! Look at her, Peregrine. She’s clearly nothing more than a common desperado. Masquerading as a waitress, masquerading as a fiancée!’
‘Hear, hear!’ Larissa made her own personal toast, chugging down the rest of her wine.
‘She’s after the family fortune! Somebody call the police!’ Eleanor cried. ‘What have you done with poor Faith, you evil trickster?’
‘Stop it!’ Milton, reaching his sister, took hold of both her shoulders and gave her a shake. ‘This is Faith. Who happens to work as an… in… as a, erm…’
‘Events manager,’ Perry said.
