Mother of the Bride (22 page)

It was after 7 a.m. when she woke and realized where she was. Amy was still asleep beside her. She was about to get up when Amy reached over and hugged her.

‘Thanks.'

Ciara gazed at her. Amy's eyes were raw and she looked awful.

‘I'm not used to sleeping on my own,' Amy said, trying to control the shake in her voice.

‘It's OK.'

‘When did you get the dragonfly?'

Ciara tried to pull down her T-shirt.

‘I've been looking at it for the past fifteen minutes.' Amy smiled shakily.

Ciara tried to guess what she was thinking.

‘It's kind of cool,' Amy said. ‘Dan's got a dolphin near his coccyx. I was never brave enough to get one. You know me and needles.'

‘I hate them too,' Ciara admitted, ‘but a guy I was going out with was really into them. It was pathetic because I got it for him. I thought it would make him like me more. It was stupid. He was stupid.'

‘Do I know him?' Amy asked.

‘Nope,' said Ciara. She had no intention of discussing Jay. He was
gone from her life and the shagging tattoo was all that was there to remind her of him. ‘How are you feeling?'

‘Shit. No, make that double shit!'

‘Are you going to move back here?'

‘I'm not sure if that's a good idea.' Amy sighed. ‘You know what they're like.'

Ciara knew her parents would wrap Amy in cotton wool and fuss and baby her terribly. Mum and Dad might mean well, but it would probably drive Amy mad to have them hovering over her.

‘I'd better get up, I've college,' Ciara said, easing herself out of the bed.

‘I'm not getting up,' Amy said doggedly. ‘I don't want to think about things. I wish that I could stay asleep here for ever like Sleeping Beauty, with everything frozen in time.'

‘Till a handsome prince called Daniel comes riding by,' said Ciara without thinking. She immediately regretted what she had said, as Amy curled up into the pillow. ‘Sorry.'

‘It's not your fault,' said Amy tonelessly, retreating under the duvet.

Helen felt like every bone in her body was sore, she had slept so badly all night. For hours her mind had been racing, going over all the implications of Amy and Dan not getting married. Dan had been like another son in their house, and now suddenly he was no longer going to be part of the family. She felt awful about it, and could only imagine how poor Amy must feel. She should be angry with Dan and curse him for hurting their daughter, but she knew that he was probably equally hurt. She felt so sad for both of them. They had seemed such a perfect couple. But now herself and Paddy had to be practical, and start unravelling the mess and cancelling the wedding in ten weeks' time.

Paddy came slowly down the stairs to breakfast, too, looking like an old bear in his wool dressing gown, barely glancing at the morning newspaper and picking at his toast and rashers.

‘I'll try and talk to Dan and Eddie later. You'd better phone the castle and find out what the procedure is if we need to cancel everything,' he reminded her as he went upstairs to shower and shave before going into the office. ‘They are liable to charge us a hefty cancellation fee.'

He sounded worried, and Helen couldn't blame him. As she
sipped on a mug of coffee she grabbed a pad, and started to make a list of all the places she and Amy had to phone today.

It was mid-morning when Amy finally appeared. She had violet shadows under her eyes, and didn't look like she'd slept a wink either.

‘Some cereal?' Helen asked. ‘Or what about toast?'

‘I'm not hungry.' Amy filled a mug with coffee.

Helen felt so sorry for her. Paddy had phoned an hour ago after speaking briefly to Dan. ‘The lad is upset, worried about Amy, but the wedding is definitely off as far as he's concerned,' Paddy explained. ‘I offered to meet him for a pint and to have a chat, but he said to leave it for the moment. Eddie's secretary said he's busy but that he'd phone me tonight or tomorrow.'

Helen sighed. It all sounded so final.

‘Love, I've made a rough list,' Helen ventured, ‘and the sooner we both start phoning everyone to cancel the wedding, all the better.'

‘Sure, Mum, whatever you think.'

Helen had the pity of her heart for Amy as they both ran through the telephone numbers and contact details that she had amassed in her pink wedding Filofax.

‘Let's start with contacting the castle?' she suggested.

‘Please, Mum, can you do it?' beseeched Amy. ‘Can you phone Castle Gregory? I'll just get too upset.'

Helen steeled herself for embarrassment as Hugo Robert's quiet, educated voice came on the phone. Taking a deep breath Helen told him that the O'Connors would no longer need to hire Castle Gregory for their daughter's nuptials on 6 June.

‘Do you want to change the date of the booking?' asked Hugo.

‘No, I'm afraid that we have to cancel it,' insisted Helen, trying to remain calm. ‘The wedding will not now be taking place.'

‘Oh dear!' Helen could tell that Hugo Roberts was unused to people cancelling the castle. ‘I'm so sorry to hear that.' Then he
said, sounding more understanding, ‘You must be all so upset.'

Helen could feel herself being less defensive as she unrolled the sorry saga, hoping to appeal to Hugo's more generous nature.

Amy, white in the face, listened as Helen made it 100 per cent clear that the O'Connor family had no need of Castle Gregory and its services any longer.

‘You have paid a large deposit for this booking,' reminded Hugo. ‘And you do know that we are entitled to it in lieu of a cancellation? That is our policy.'

Helen couldn't hide her intake of breath as she imagined Paddy's reaction to the loss of such a large amount of money.

‘However,' Hugo's voice softened, ‘we have had an unusual request in the past ten days from a well-known radio star with regards to hiring the castle for his wedding. We had told him that we were booked out totally until late October, but he asked to be kept informed of any cancellations, as he is really hoping to marry during the summer. June was his month of preference.'

‘Oh,' gasped Helen, seeing a chink of light in a very dark tunnel.

‘So if you are sure that your daughter Amy and Mr Quinn are definitely not going to go ahead with using the castle on that date, I may be able to find an alternative booking for it.'

‘Oh, that would be wonderful,' gushed Helen.

She felt relief wash over her as she put the phone down.

‘What did they say?' quizzed Amy, frantic to find out what was happening.

‘We will lose ten per cent of our deposit only, not the full amount, and they will return the balance by cheque once they receive an official letter from you cancelling everything.'

‘Oh thanks, Mum!' Amy sighed, relieved.

The caterers, Lainey Sullivan and Company, weren't quite so accommodating about losing the fee for a big event on a summer Saturday.

‘I think there is a possibility of another big wedding on that day,' Helen suggested, ‘but you need to check with Hugo up at the castle.'

‘If I have another wedding on that day all is not lost,' the caterer told Helen, phoning back and eventually agreeing to return the full deposit.

Father Tom Doorly was sad when Amy herself told him that there would be no wedding in the little chapel near the castle.

‘I hope that you and your young man can find the good grace to get over this disappointment,' he urged. ‘You know it is far better to cancel the ceremony than to get married if you are not sure about it. I can't tell you how many couples I see who break up within only a year or two of big fancy weddings.'

The band and the DJ were less generous and refused to return the deposits paid to them. ‘We have no other gig booked in for that night, and Saturdays are always a big night for us. We can play another Saturday if you need us to instead.'

‘That won't be necessary,' explained Amy, ‘as there will be no wedding.'

The florist was peeved with them, but as they had only paid a small deposit agreed to return it, given the circumstances.

‘I only do three weddings a day,' she confided. ‘So hopefully I'll be able to pick up another bride or event.'

Amy couldn't imagine anyone organizing a florist at this late stage, but Helen reassured her that loads of people left things till the last minute.

Julien, the photographer, was narky in the extreme, but reluctantly agreed to return the deposit, which he had literally just been paid.

‘I have lost a day's work at the height of the wedding season,' he told Amy, over and over again, and it was no good her reminding him that she'd only booked him that week. Amy secretly vowed that
hell would freeze over before she would ever use him for anything again, or recommend him to her friends.

Luckily Jeremy, Dan's friend from college, who had his own small film and advertising company and who had agreed to make the DVD of their wedding, was much more understanding. He couldn't believe that she and Dan were cancelling the wedding.

‘That's so crap for you, Amy,' Jeremy blurted out. ‘Do you want me to talk to Dan?'

‘Please, Jeremy, don't say or do anything,' she begged. ‘Things are bad enough.'

Amy was almost shaking when she phoned Judith Deveraux, the designer whose dress she'd ordered. She couldn't face going in there in person and telling her what had happened.

‘Oh, Amy, I'll have your dress ready in about five weeks' time,' Judith reassured. ‘That gives us plenty of time for any last-minute fittings and alterations needed.'

‘That's just it.' Amy began to choke up. ‘There won't be any need for fittings or alterations, as I'm not getting married. The wedding is off.'

‘Your wedding is cancelled!'

Helen took over the phone immediately, and the two women, over a long conversation, agreed on a course of action over the dress.

‘Judith has kindly agreed to refund the full amount that I paid for your dress,' she explained gently. ‘The dress was obviously being fitted for you, but I'm sure Judith will have no problem selling it as someone else will probably love it.'

Amy nodded silently, her eyes welling with tears. Moments later, ‘There's the bridesmaid dresses, my shoes, the invitations.' She sounded panicked. ‘They are meant to go to print in ten days' time!'

‘It will all be sorted,' soothed Helen, trying to calm her down. ‘I'll phone the printers straight away.' She took a deep breath as she saw the huge number of people they still had to contact: the jewellers,
organist, church singer, car hire, the Arnotts wedding list organizers and, of course, Bibi. It was endless!

‘It will all get done!' she promised. ‘Honestly it will.'

Helen felt like a dead duck. Fit for bed. Amy had gone upstairs for a rest and Paddy had announced that he was off playing golf, would have a bite to eat in the club house and wouldn't be home till late. Who could blame him for wanting to keep out of the place and the pandemonium they were immersed in!

She had phoned Carmel Quinn, who was strangely distant with her.

‘Helen, this has been just as big a shock to us as to you, I assure you,' Carmel had said politely. ‘Eddie and I are naturally upset for the two of them, but it is their decision. Marriage is a very big commitment and maybe the two of them weren't suited to it.'

Helen was annoyed with her reaction and wondered what kind of mother Carmel was!

‘
What's up?
' Helen looked at the text from Fran. ‘
Trying to phone
u all day. Are we going MOB shopping?
'

‘
DISASTER
,' Helen replied.

Ten minutes later Fran was at the door.

‘What the hell has happened?'

‘Sssh,' Helen whispered, dragging her into the kitchen. ‘Amy's upstairs asleep. I don't want to wake her.'

For the first time Helen found herself getting tearful as she sat down at the kitchen table and told Fran the whole saga.

‘You poor old things, having this happen, but thank heaven Amy is all right. It's awful, but at least you had a few more weeks until the wedding, and the invitations hadn't gone out yet.'

‘I suppose so,' admitted Helen, relieved that Amy's perfectionism had delayed the printing. An hour later, at Fran's insistence that this crisis definitely qualified as Martini Time, Helen was sitting
on the couch sipping a large Martini and beginning to feel a bit better.

‘No one has died,' reminded Fran. ‘Couples these days are always fighting and making up and getting married and divorced and remarried. There's none of that you-made-your-bed-you-must-lie-on-it attitude that we used to get! God knows how many times Tom and I broke up before we actually made it to the altar.'

‘But you hadn't booked Castle Gregory and the whole shebang!' Helen argued.

‘I'll give you that Amy and Dan's situation is a bit more public, but a break-up is a break-up! That's what we are talking about. It happens!'

‘It's been so awful. I've been on the phone since breakfast. What are people going to think?'

‘People will get over it. Like me, they'll be a bit miffed about not getting to dress up and have a day out seeing Amy getting married in a big castle courtesy of the O'Connors, but they'll cope,' Fran teased.

Fran was a good friend. She had the rare ability to keep her head in a crisis, and make things seem better than they were. Helen remembered when Amy was two and had slipped in the garden and hit her head on the paving stones and gashed it open. Fran had calmly driven them both to the hospital, and kept telling Helen it was only a scratch. She was the one who had held Amy as the doctor had stitched her head; Helen had almost fainted at the sight of all the blood.

‘Now, what about another drink?' urged Fran, getting up and fetching more ice from the fridge. ‘Have you eaten?'