New York, NY 10014
Dear Miss Bloomwood:
Thank you for your letter of February 20.
I am afraid I could not comment on whether or not a Miu Miu skirt is a household expense.
Yours sincerely,
Walt Pitman
Director of Customer Relations
Six
I’M NOT GOING to get married in New York. Of course I’m not. It’s unthinkable. I’m going to get married at home, just like I planned, with a nice marquee in the garden. There’s absolutely no reason to change my plans. None at all.
Except… it would be amazing. Walking down that aisle in front of four hundred people, to the sound of a string orchestra, with amazing flower arrangements everywhere. Having the huge, dreamy, Lady Di wedding I always fantasized about but thought was beyond my grasp. I mean, it’d be Becky’s Big Day come to life.
Then we’d all sit down to some incredible dinner… Robyn gave me some sample dinner menus, and the food! Rosace of Maine Lobster… Fowl Consomme with Quenelles of Pheasant… Wild Rice with Pignoli Nuts…
I know Oxshott and Ashtead Quality Caterers are good — but I’m not sure they even know what a pignoli nut is. (To be honest, I don’t either. But that’s not the point.)
And maybe Elinor’s right, Mum would be grateful if we took the whole thing off her hands. Yes. Maybe she’s finding the organization more of a strain than she’s letting on. Maybe she’s already wishing she hadn’t volunteered to do the whole thing. Whereas if we get married at the Plaza, she won’t have to do anything, just turn up. Plus Mum and Dad wouldn’t have to pay for a thing… I mean, it would be doing them a favor!
So as I’m walking back to Barneys, I take out my mobile and dial the number for home. As Mum answers I can hear the closing music of Crimewatch in the background, and I suddenly feel a wave of nostalgia for home. I can just imagine Mum and Dad sitting there, with the curtains drawn and the gas-effect fire flickering cozily.
“Hi, Mum?”
“Becky!” exclaims Mum. “I’m so glad you’ve phoned! I’ve been trying to fax you through some menus from the catering company, but your machine won’t work. Dad says, have you checked your paper recently?”
“Um… I don’t know. Listen, Mum—”
“And listen to this! Janice’s sister-in-law knows someone who works at a balloon printing company! She says if we order two hundred or more balloons we can have the helium for free!”
“Great! Look, I was just thinking about the wedding, actually…”
Why do I suddenly feel nervous?
“Oh yes? Graham, turn the television down.”
“It was just occurring to me… just as a possibility”—I give a shrill laugh—“that Luke and I could get married in America!”
“America?” There’s a long pause. “What do you mean, America?”
“It was just a thought! You know, since Luke and I live here already…”
“You’ve lived there for one year, Becky!” Mum sounds quite shocked. “This is your home!”
“Well, yes… but I was just thinking…” I say feebly.
Somehow I was hoping that Mum would say “What a fantastic idea!” and make it really easy.
“How would we organize a wedding in America?”
“I don’t know!” I swallow. “Maybe we could have it at a… a big hotel.”
“A hotel?” Mum sounds as though I’ve gone mad.
“And maybe Elinor would help…” I plow on. “I’m sure she’d contribute… you know, if it was more expensive…”
There’s a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the phone and I wince. Damn. I should never have mentioned Elinor.
“Yes, well. We don’t want her contributions, thank you. We can manage very well by ourselves. Is this Elinor’s idea, then, a hotel? Does she think we can’t put on a nice wedding?”
“No!” I say hastily. “It’s just… it’s nothing! I was just…”
“Dad says, if she’s so keen on hotels, she can stay at one instead of with us.”
Oh God. I’m just making everything worse.
“Look… forget it. It was a silly idea.” I rub my face. “So — how are the plans going?”
We chat for a few more minutes, and I hear all about the nice man from the marquee company and how his quote was very reasonable, and how his son was at school with cousin Alex, isn’t it a small world? By the end of our conversation Mum sounds completely mollified and all talk of American hotels has been forgotten.
I say good-bye, turn off the phone, and exhale sharply. Right. Well, that’s decided. I might as well call Elinor and tell her. No point in hanging around.
I turn on my mobile again, dial two digits, and then stop.
On the other hand — is there any point in rushing straight into a decision?
I mean, you never know. Maybe Mum and Dad will talk it over this evening and change their minds. Maybe they’ll come out to have a look. Maybe if they actually saw the Plaza… if they saw how magical it was all going to be… how luxurious… how glamorous… I can’t quite bear to give it up. Not quite yet.
When I get home, Luke is sitting at the table, frowning over some papers.
“You came home early!” I say, pleased.
“I had some papers to go over,” says Luke. “Thought I’d get some peace and quiet here.”
“Oh, right.”
As I get near I see that they’re all headed “The Elinor Sherman Foundation.” I open my mouth to say something — then close it again.
“So,” he says, looking up with a little smile, “what did you think of the Plaza?”
“You knew about it?” I stare at him.
“Yes. Of course I did. I would have come along too if I hadn’t had a lunch appointment.”
“But, Luke…” I take a deep breath, trying not to overreact. “You know my mother’s planning a wedding in England.”
“It’s early days, surely?”
“You shouldn’t have just fixed up a meeting like that!”
“My mother thought it would be a good way to surprise you. So did I.”
“Spring it on me, you mean!” I retort crossly, and Luke looks at me, puzzled.
“Didn’t you like the Plaza? I thought you’d be overwhelmed!”
“Of course I liked it. That’s not the point.”
“I know how much you’ve always wanted a big, magnificent wedding. When my mother offered to host a wedding at the Plaza, it seemed like a gift. In fact, it was my idea to surprise you. I thought you’d be thrilled.”
He looks a bit deflated and immediately guilt pours over me. It hadn’t occurred to me that Luke might have been in on the whole thing.
“Luke, I am thrilled! It’s just… I don’t think Mum would be very happy, us getting married in America.”
“Can’t you talk her round?”
“It’s not that easy. Your mother’s been pretty high-handed, you know—”
“High-handed? She’s only trying to give us a wonderful wedding.”
“If she really wanted to, she could give us a wonderful wedding in England,” I point out. “Or she could help Mum and Dad — and they could all give us a wonderful wedding! But instead, she talks about their garden as an
