‘I’ve spoken to Charlie,’ said Edie, ‘and he’s happy to have me and Val stay overnight on the Friday. And he’ll drive us to the church in good time for the wedding.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Charlotte. ‘I don’t like turning you out of your rooms, but if Zannah’s in the big spare bedroom, Em in the small one, then Joss and Bob can go in your room, Edie, and Gemma and Isis in yours, Val.’
‘Of course,’ Val said. ‘You can’t have them coming from North London on Saturday morning. Too much could go wrong. Very kind of your Charlie, Edie, I must say.’
They were sitting at the kitchen table after lunch. Outside, a thin, late January sun was struggling through the clouds and the back lawn was dotted with the first purple and yellow crocuses. Charlotte said, ‘There’s going to be a Wedding Summit at the beginning of March. Maureen calls it that. She’s sent me all the catering details. She is an extremely efficient and organized woman. If a little tiring.’
‘The whole thing,’ said Val, ‘is running well up to now.’
‘Throw salt over your shoulder or something, Val,’ said Edie. ‘That’s tempting Fate.’
Charlotte nodded. ‘I’m pleased there’s been no panic so far, I must admit. They came over yesterday to look at the garden and apparently there’s plenty of room for our portable loos. They will, I’m promised, be “of the highest possible standard”.’
‘Not then, bog standard … such a relief,’ said Val, and laughed at her double pun. ‘By the way,’ she added, ‘I’ve been in touch with Maya, the flower lady, and she and Zannah have discussed the colour of the bouquet roses. And the foliage. She wants pale leaves to match the green of the bridesmaids’ dresses. Maya’s coming to the church on the Friday afternoon to oversee the flowers in there, and she’s promised to be here in plenty of time on the Saturday morning, with the bouquets, buttonholes and table arrangements. She wants them to be as fresh as possible but it’ll mean an early start, I’m afraid. Six o’clock. I’ve said I’ll be up to help her. No need for anyone else to be disturbed.’
‘I’m sure Zannah’ll be wide awake,’ Charlotte said. ‘Em too, probably, with all the excitement. And the hairdresser’s arriving at nine. Everyone can help themselves to breakfast in here. The caterers bring everything they need, Maureen says, and won’t bother us in the kitchen.’
‘Where are the Ashtons staying? And Adrian?’ Edie asked.
‘At the Savoy,’ Charlotte said. ‘Adrian’s stag night’ll be the weekend before the wedding, I believe. He and some friends are off to the Highlands for a party, Zannah says.’
‘What about Zannah? Is she having a hen night?’ Edie smiled.
‘Emily’s taking her and two friends to a spa in the country. A very luxurious one, apparently. They’re going to have beauty treatments and different sorts of bath and end the day with a lovely dinner.’
‘How many kinds of bath can there possibly be?’ Val looked bemused.
‘You’d be amazed,’ said Charlotte. ‘Em showed me the brochure. Hammam tubs, which are a kind of oriental bath, I believe. Jacuzzis. Spring water. Plus things like hot stones, saunas, steam rooms and facials. And there’s a swimming-pool, of course.’
‘And who,’ said Val, ‘is paying for that?’
‘They all pay their own way. That’s how it’s done, I’m told. I suspect Bob’s helping Em, but I didn’t enquire too closely.’
Edie stood up. ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘Choir practice. I have to check with the organist about the music.’ She tapped her handbag. ‘I’m going to give him the list Bob sent.’
‘And I’m off to the garden. Things to be done there.’ Val followed Edie out and Charlotte was left alone. The wedding arrangements were under control, but she was less certain about Joss’s state of mind. She hadn’t seen her since the beginning of January, when she’d visited to report on how beautiful the dress was. She hadn’t stayed long. It seemed to Charlotte that she’d lost weight and she could ill afford to. She looked drawn. Older. They hadn’t been able to talk properly, but Joss did the dishes after lunch and Charlotte volunteered to dry. Edie and Val disappeared in a suspiciously prearranged way and when they were alone, Charlotte had asked her, ‘Are you bearing up, darling?’
Joss had paused before she answered. ‘Bearing up describes it, I think. I try to keep busy. I do a lot of late nights at the library.’
‘Are you writing?’
‘A little. Not as much as I’d like. Not the sort of thing I’d like to be writing either. I’m all right, Charlotte.’
‘You’re very thin, dear. Are you sure you’re not neglecting yourself?’
‘No, really. I just … ’
She stood with her hands plunged in the soapy water. Charlotte longed to put an arm round her shoulders. At Christmas, she’d told her that the pain would ease. That things would get better. Now, she was almost sure they were worse. She’d hesitated before asking, ‘Have you heard from Graham?’
Joss shook her head and turned away quickly, so that Charlotte couldn’t see her face. Were those tears in her eyes?
They’d changed the subject and since then, all the phone calls and emails had been, Charlotte thought, deliberately cheerful and upbeat. Joss was doing her best to give the impression that everything was fine, but she didn’t fool her aunt for a second.