To my horror I feel my eyes welling up with tears. I creep round the back of the cabinet and sink onto the carpeted floor, where no one can see me.
“I’ve ended up with two weddings and I can’t do either of them! Either way, people are going to be furious with me. Either way it’s going to be a disaster. It’s supposed to be the best day of my life, Suze, and it’s going to be the worst! The very worst!”
“Look, Bex, don’t get into a state,” she says, relenting slightly. “Have you really gone through all the options?”
“I’ve thought of everything. I’ve thought of committing bigamy, I’ve thought of hiring look-alikes…”
“That’s not a bad idea,” says Suze thoughtfully.
“You know what I really want to do?” My throat tightens with emotion. “Just run away from all of this and do it on a beach. Just the two of us and a minister and the seagulls. I mean, that’s what really counts, isn’t it? The fact that I love Luke and he loves me and we want to be together forever.” As I picture Luke kissing me against a Caribbean sunset, I feel tears welling up again. “Who cares about having a posh dress? Who cares about a grand reception and getting lots of presents? None of it is important! I’d just wear a really simple sarong, and we’d be in bare feet, and we’d walk along the sand, and it would be so romantic—”
“Bex!” I jump in fright at Suze’s tone. She sounds as angry as I’ve ever heard her. “Just stop it! Stop right there! God, you’re a selfish cow sometimes.”
“What do you mean?” I falter. “I just meant all the trappings weren’t important…”
“They are important! People have made a lot of effort over those trappings! You’ve got two weddings that most people would die to have. OK, you can’t do both. But you can do one. If you don’t do either of them, then… you don’t deserve them. You don’t deserve any of it. Bex, these weddings aren’t just about you! They’re about all the people involved. All the people who have made an effort and put time and love and money into creating something really special. You can’t just run away from that! You have to face this out, even if it means apologizing to four hundred people individually, on bended knee. If you just run away, then… then you’re selfish and cowardly.”
She stops, breathing hard, and I hear Ernie begin to wail plaintively in the background. I feel completely shocked, as though she’s slapped me in the face.
“You’re right,” I say at last.
“I’m sorry,” she says, and she sounds quite upset too. “But I am right.”
“I know you are.” I rub my face. “Look… I will face this out. I don’t know how. But I will.” Ernie’s wailing has increased to lusty screaming, and I can barely hear myself over the noise. “You’d better go,” I say. “Give my godson my love. Tell him… his godmother’s sorry she’s such a flake. She’s going to try and do better.”
“He sends all his love back,” says Suze. She hesitates. “And he says remember, even though we might get a bit cross with you, we’re still ready to help. If we can.”
“Thanks, Suze,” I say, my throat thick. “Tell him… I’ll keep you posted.”
I put my phone away and sit still, gathering my thoughts. At last I get to my feet, brush myself down, and walk back out onto the shop floor.
Alicia’s standing five yards away.
My stomach gives a little flip. How long has she been there for? What did she hear?
“Hi,” I say, my voice crackly with nerves.
“Hi,” she says. Very slowly she walks toward me, her eyes running over me appraisingly
“So,” she says pleasantly. “Does Robyn know you’re planning to run off to get married on a beach?”
Fuck.
“I’m…” I clear my throat. “I’m not planning to run off to a beach!”
“Sounded to me like you were.” Alicia examines a nail. “Isn’t there a clause about that in her contract?”
“I was joking! It was… you know, just being funny…”
“I wonder if Robyn would find it funny.” Alicia gives me her most ingratiating smile. “To hear that Becky Bloomwood doesn’t care about having a grand reception. To hear that her favorite, goody-two-shoes Little Miss Perfect client… is going to fly the coop!”
I have to keep calm. “You wouldn’t say anything to Robyn.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“You can’t! You just…” I break off, trying to stay composed. “Alicia, we’ve known each other a long time. And I know we haven’t always… seen eye to eye… but come on. We’re two British girls in New York. Both getting married. In a way, we’re… we’re practically sisters!”
I force myself to place a hand on her pink bouclé sleeve. “Surely we have to show solidarity? Surely we have to… support each other?”
There’s a pause as Alicia runs contemptuous eyes over me. Then she jerks her arm away from my hand and starts to stride away.
“See you, Becky,” she says over her shoulder.
I have to stop her. Quick.
“Becky!” Eileen’s voice is behind me and I turn round in a daze. “Here’s the pewterware I wanted to show you…”
“Thanks,” I say dazedly. “I just have to…”