The Wedding that Changed Everything: a gorgeously uplifting romantic comedy. Jennifer Joyce

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ believed in happily ever afters when you received this book,’ Alice says, not really answering the question.

      ‘I was six.’

      I can’t look at that book. I can’t face the memories it catapults at me, one after the other. The joy, the wonder, and then the pain of knowing life would never be as simple or as jubilant as those tales. It was a birthday present from my parents and I’d loved it. Like Alice and her Hubert, I’d dragged that book everywhere with me. I’d devoured the pages, drinking in the images before I could read the words myself. I knew the words off by heart, knew the order of the tales, knew how each story made me feel as that six-year-old full of wonder.

      ‘Why do you have that?’ I ask again, my voice firm this time. There’s a hint of the anger I feel bubbling up inside, but I’ll try to control it. My anger isn’t aimed at Alice, not really.

      ‘I found it.’ Alice rubs a hand over a pale, yellowish-brown stain on one corner of the book. A new addition since I last saw it. The slightly charred edges are still there, reminding me how much I despise the book and everything it represents. ‘It was in the bin. I’d already scraped the leftover curry we’d had in there before I spotted it. Sorry.’

      I don’t know what she’s apologising for. Surely not for dropping curry on a book I’d tried to dispose of – twice. Why would I care if the book is stained? I wanted it gone. Destroyed. Perhaps that’s it. She’s apologising because it’s still here. Still in this house.

      ‘I couldn’t let you throw it away.’ Alice has opened the book now. ‘Not when I read the inscription.’ She holds the book out towards me, but I turn away. I don’t recall an inscription being in the book, but I don’t want to read whatever it says. It’ll only dredge up memories I’d rather keep locked away.

      Alice closes the book and sits down next to me on the bed. ‘I know how much you’re hurting. I’ve lost my mum too, remember?’

      The other thing that propelled Alice into finding me my perfect match a year ago, combined with my failed relationship with Edward and finding herself loved up with Kevin, was the death of my mother.

      ‘And I know that when we’re hurting we sometimes do things we regret.’

      ‘But I don’t regret it.’ I point at the book, but I can’t quite bring myself to focus on it. ‘I don’t want that thing.’ I didn’t want it a year ago, when I discovered it in the box of items from Mum’s house that Great Aunt Dorothy had sent over. Didn’t want it hanging around, reminding me of that brief time in my life when everything was perfect. Before everything changed. ‘How dare you retrieve it?’ The anger gurgles to the surface. I leap up from the bed, throwing poor Hubert down onto the duvet. ‘How dare you meddle in my life? First, pushing me to go on these stupid dates, and now this! It’s too much, Alice. Why can’t you just let me be?’

      ‘I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I know it’s different for me – my mum died when I was really little and I barely remember her – but I’d give anything to have a reminder of her. Dad got rid of everything when he married Francelia – all the photos, her perfume and jewellery, the cards she wrote for me and Carolyn. Said he wanted a fresh start.’ She stands up from the bed and places a hand on my shoulder. ‘I know you’re angry with me right now, but one day you’ll thank me for keeping hold of the book.’

      I roll my eyes, still not looking at it. ‘It’s a book of fairy tales, Alice.’

      ‘It’s more than that.’ Alice gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘The little girl who received this book believed in happily ever afters. You told me once that she used to dream of being rescued by the handsome prince. What happened to her?’

      I throw my shoulders back, dislodging Alice’s hand, and lift my chin slightly. ‘She grew up and realised life isn’t a fairy tale.’

      Alice crosses the room, stopping in front of my small bookcase. She squeezes the book of fairy tales into a gap at the end of the middle shelf. ‘I’ll do you a deal.’ Alice turns to face me again. ‘If you come to the wedding with an open mind and at least give the guys there a teeny chance, I’ll stop pestering you about finding a boyfriend once we get home.’

      We stare at each other across the room. I’m still angry, but it’s dying down now the book is no longer in my vision.

      ‘There’ll be no more pushing me to date when we get back?’

      Alice shakes her head. ‘I won’t mention it again.’

      We stare some more.

      Can I do this? Can I endure one week of intense Alice matchmaking (because that’s what this will turn into)? Can I get through it for the chance of being left to my own devices when we return?

      ‘Fine.’ I cross the room and stick out my hand. ‘You have yourself a deal.’

      Alice’s grin is wide as we shake on it. ‘You’re not going to regret this.’

      ‘We’ll see about that in a week’s time.’ I reach past Alice and slide the fairy tales book off the shelf.

      Alice looks stricken. ‘You’re not going to throw that away again, are you?’

      ‘What would be the point? You’ll only dig it out again with teabags and food stuck to it.’ Instead, I shove the book to the very back of my wardrobe, where I won’t have to face it on a daily basis.

      ‘Come on, Cinderella.’ Alice tucks Hubert back under her arm and hefts my suitcase off the bed. ‘You shall go to the ball!’

      I take the handle of my suitcase so Alice can trundle her own down the stairs. ‘I thought Kevin was Cinders?’

      ‘No way am I being an ugly sister. You, honey, are Cinderella, and I am your fairy godmother.’

Chapter Five

      With our suitcases squeezed into the tiny boot of Alice’s sleek but impractical car, there’s an emotional goodbye between Alice and Kevin on our doorstep. I wait in the car, fingers firmly crossed that Alice will feel so guilty about leaving Poor Kevin (as I have taken to calling him in a bid to induce more guilt) behind that she’ll call the whole ‘let’s irritate the absolute crap out of Emily by matching her up with some god-awful people for a whole damn week’ thing off. Kevin and I will switch places and Carrot and I will wave them off.

      No such luck. Alice is blubbering, but she isn’t in family-issues-battling mode and she’s soon walking backwards towards the car, unable to tear her eyes away from her beloved. She plonks herself down in the driver’s seat, taking a moment to compose herself before strapping herself in and, giving one last wilted wave, setting off towards the M60.

      ‘You’re going to love Durban Castle,’ she tells me once she’s managed to stop the hiccupping her crying has caused. ‘It’s so gorgeous. It’s such a shame I haven’t been there in so long.’ She looks like she’s about to burst into tears again but manages to regain her composure and aims a watery smile at me. ‘It’s been in my family for generations, so Carolyn and I would spend every Christmas there and the summer holidays with my grandparents. My step-cousin would visit too, and we’d have adventures around the castle and its grounds together. There was always a quiz on Boxing Day, when other relatives would visit, and fireworks and a huge bonfire СКАЧАТЬ