“Next September?” Wendy asked, as she put her cup to her lips.
“No. We’re aiming for this year.”
In contrast to Mum’s delight, Wendy’s tea seemed to go down the wrong hole. “But we’re already part way through April. You’re talking less than six months away, which doesn’t leave much time to organise everything.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage,” I replied, wondering what any of it had to do with her.
“You say that now,” Mum’s friend said, refusing to share my optimism. “But when things start getting double booked…”
I frowned at the woman’s patronising tone, but as I opened my mouth to say something Mum clearly sensed my annoyance and jumped in to avoid any discord before I got the chance.
“Wendy’s just pointing out how stressful planning a wedding can be.” Mum passed me my cup and saucer. “Aren’t you, Wendy?”
I reached for a biscuit and much to Mum’s clear frustration, defiantly dunked it in my tea.
“I am and understandably so, I might add. What with guest lists, which is always the starting point, by the way. Budgets, and venues–”
“Both for the ceremony and reception,” Mum interrupted, sitting next to her friend.
“Photographers and entertainment,” Wendy continued.
“Not forgetting a decent florist,” Mum said.
My head jerked left and right as I looked from one woman to the other. Sentence after sentence, it was like observing a game of ping-pong.
“And that’s on top of finding a decent hairdresser,” Wendy said. She paused to look me up and down, her stare going from my head to my toes and back up again. “As well as a good make-up artist.”
As if on cue, my soggy biscuit plopped into my tea, while I made a mental note to tell Mum she needed to find a new friend.
“Then there are the bridesmaid dresses to think about,” Mum said. “As well as your wedding gown.” She gave me a knowing look. “I’ve got just the one in mind, by the way.”
A picture of Louise Patterson popped into my head, causing my whole being to fill with horror. No way was I walking down the aisle looking like an LP copycat. “Same here,” I replied, resolute.
Mum froze. “Excuse me?”
“I know which dress I want. It came to me in a dream.”
Mum and Wendy looked at me like I was barmy.
“A dream?” Mum said.
I nodded.
“And if you don’t find it in real life?” she asked. “What then?”
No way was I losing that challenge. “Believe me, I’ll find it.”
Mum’s expression appeared as unwavering as mine, but ignoring her determination, I took a drink of my tea.
“Then there’s the paperwork,” Wendy said. “Which has been known to catch people out.”
“Paperwork?” I asked, silently questioning why we were even having this conversation.
“The notification of intention to marry,” Wendy replied. “No notification, no wedding. You wouldn’t believe how many couples forget to get theirs in on time.”
I glanced at the woman’s left hand. Devoid of any wedding ring, I wondered who made her the nuptial doyen. “You’re making everything sound so difficult,” I said, hoping to shut Wendy up. “Carry on like this and I might have to call the whole thing off.”
Mum let out a hysterical laugh. “Don’t be silly.” Alarm swept across her face. “We’re simply saying there’s a lot to consider.”
