‘Do we have to go looking again today?’ Dan protested as they grabbed a hurried breakfast. Saturday’s sacrosanct sausages and bacon and fried eggs and bread had given way to a bowl of scummy end-of-the-packet muesli, two slices of toast, dodgy-looking orange juice, and two cups of strong coffee.
‘Amy, why can’t we take a Saturday off and just stay in bed or chill? Every weekend it’s the same: driving all over the bloody country looking for somewhere to have our wedding. Why can’t we just pick a nice hotel with good food and a bar and say that’s it!’
‘Because we’re not having it some place like that,’ Amy retorted vehemently. ‘Our wedding is special. I’m not having it in some crappy hotel just so you can stay in bed for an extra few hours watching TV. This is our day, and I want it to be somewhere that we will remember for the rest of our lives.’
‘We will remember it,’ he promised. ‘This is about us, not some fancy venue.’
Amy knew that he was right. They were both fed up with looking at places for their wedding, and after almost four weekends of it were still nowhere near picking the one they wanted. And she was spending hours on the internet every night trawling through hotel and bridal websites trying to find somewhere.
Today’s schedule was packed: they were visiting four possible venues and – if they liked a place – scouting to see what the local churches were like. She would have far preferred relaxing on the sofa on a Saturday morning instead of haring all over Ireland. Finding a place to have their wedding was taking a lot more time than either of them had anticipated.
‘I just want it to be special,’ she said stubbornly.
Sometimes she thought Dan just didn’t get it. In the beginning he had wanted them to consider having their wedding in one of Dublin’s fancy hotels. Having your wedding in the same hotel you went to for parties or where you drank in the bar every Friday night after work was hardly original! No, she wanted something a bit different! Finding it was the problem, and Amy hoped today they’d manage it.
Last week they had driven all down around Meath and viewed an amazing Georgian manor which seemed lovely. The only problem was that the summer dates were already booked out. There seemed to be thousands of couples getting married, and everyone was frantic trying to grab a venue and fix a date. It was a nightmare!
‘Have you got the map?’ asked Dan as they headed towards the M50.
‘Everything,’ she said, patting her lap. She had her pink leather Filofax that Jess had given her as an engagement present. It was her wedding office, and contained every bit of information relating to their plans: phone numbers, address book, calendar, contact details, clippings, photographs, samples. She wouldn’t be without it.
‘Good,’ he smiled, in better form as he slipped his hand on her knee. They headed out of the city and down towards Kildare.
The first hotel today was the Cuilinn. It was modern and edgy with great decor and overlooked the Curragh, but after a few minutes talking with the banqueting manager they realized that it held only about one hundred guests, which was too small for them.
‘Sorry,’ said Amy ruefully, as they returned to the car. ‘Their website said they catered for large groups.’
‘Another bloody wild-goose chase!’ fumed Dan, joining the heavy traffic careering along the busy main road.
‘Turn here!’ Amy shouted forty minutes later and Dan slammed his foot on the brake. ‘Yes,’ she insisted, glancing quickly at the map. ‘I think Mount Mellick’s up here.’
Dan made a kind of grimace as he swung the black Golf up the road and bumped it along over mud and gravel. She had to admit that the roadway leading up to the luxury hotel was less than impressive. After the past few weeks’ rain it looked more like a muddy dirt track than the road leading to a hotel that might host their wedding.
‘Yes, look! There’s the sign.’
The brochure on her lap certainly made the place look far more grandiose than this. They came to a halt in front of a big square building with castellated parapets on the top of it, an Irish flag and an American one blowing limply in the breeze. An enormous bay window looked out over the massive lawn, which resembled a muddy hockey pitch at the moment, rather than the stylish garden area she had imagined for hosting a drinks reception. Granite steps led through the glass doors and up to the dreary, large reception area which had a coat of arms embroidered in the carpet and a long mahogany desk. It looked old-world but slightly run-down, and was cluttered with antique chairs and couches.
‘Gina, our banqueting manager, will talk to you in a few minutes,’ smiled the receptionist.
Amy got out her Filofax and began to jot down things as Daniel rambled around, peering into the bar and the residents’ lounge.
A few minutes later a girl a bit older than Amy appeared in a fitted black suit and took them on a tour of the place.
The function room was at the back of the hotel and was large and square with long windows and a French door that led out to a tiny walled courtyard for smokers.
‘Can’t you get out into the garden from here?’ asked Amy.
‘No,’ explained Gina. ‘Our residents’ lounge and dining room at the front overlook the lawn. We usually set up a few tables and chairs outside and some parasols there for the welcome drinks reception before moving people inside for the wedding meal.’
‘What happens if it rains or is too cold?’ asked Dan.
‘Then we use our residents’ lounge. I’ll show you that in a minute.’
Amy walked all around the big function room trying to imagine it set up with tables and chairs and crisp linen and flowers and candles. It was pretty soulless, and she hated the colour of the navy and beige patterned damask curtains.
‘How many guests were you planning to invite?’
‘There will probably be somewhere between a hundred and sixty and two hundred,’ Dan said.
‘Ideal, then, as we can sit up to two hundred and fifty guests here.’
Amy tried to picture this room filled with family and friends. They were almost two hours out of the city, and yet they could be anywhere, in any big hotel in the country.
‘Here, let me show you our bar and the lounge,’ offered Gina, walking ahead of them.
The bar was dull and dreary, with racing on the widescreen TV at the back being watched by a few middle-aged men, while in the large sitting room with its massive bay windows overlooking the grounds, with a collection of shabby navy and yellow couches, two or three friends demolished plates of sausages and chips as their two toddlers raced around. The whole place looked like it needed refurbishment!
Gina opened a folder and took their details.
‘Let me check your dates first.’
Amy couldn’t believe it; there wasn’t a single Friday or Saturday in the summer left.
‘How can that be?’ gasped Amy, incredulous.
‘People book the day they get engaged, or even sometimes a bride might make a provisional booking for a date long before she gets engaged so that they have options.’
‘They must be raving mad!’ said Dan. ‘Amy and I are literally only just engaged, and you’re telling us most of the dates are gone. It’s absolutely bonkers!’
‘That’s just the way things work with weddings,’ Gina explained. ‘Like most hotels, we are booked long in advance: a year or two years. Today, for example, we have a wedding on in the main suite and an anniversary party in the smaller Mellick suite. Looking at my calendar here, I only have two dates free this month, and in December we have all Christmas functions booked in. Otherwise we are talking about the summer after next, and I have two Saturdays in May or a Friday or Saturday in June left.’
Amy couldn’t believe it! She didn’t want to have to wait nearly two years!
‘We’ll think about it,’ said Dan diplomatically.
Back out in the car Amy angrily fastened her safety belt. ‘How could a place like that be booked out so far ahead?’
‘Well, it’s better than lots of the places we’ve seen,’ Dan said as he started the engine. ‘The entrance looks pretty cool, and the function room was massive.’
‘It was awful, Dan. How can so many people want to have their wedding there!’
She pulled out her pink wedding folder as Dan drove, checking to see where was next on their list.
‘Castle Gregory’s next,’ she said, getting out the information on it.