Alexandra had thought she was busy when she was getting ready for Penelope and Jack’s wedding. Her own was even busier. But one of the first things she did was to invite her friend Lizzie and her family to stay. They consisted of her husband, Hugo, and her small baby, Letty. The plan was that having delivered his wife and child and stayed for a couple of days, Hugo would go home and come back for the wedding. Lizzie would make Alexandra’s wedding dress.
Meg, another friend, was arriving as soon as she could get away from her job cooking directors’ lunches. She was set to make the cake. A third friend, Vanessa, would travel with her. Vanessa was going to do anything that was required of her, but really, she admitted to Alexandra on the telephone, she was just going to join in the fun.
The arrival of Lizzie, Hugo and their baby caused a lot of excitement and rejoicing. Stéphie instantly wanted to hold Letty and she handled the baby so well, her parents felt she was in safe hands.
‘This was Antoine’s room,’ said Alexandra, when all the greeting food and drink was over. ‘He’s moving into the barn until after the wedding, but I thought it would be nice to have you close by.’
‘Handy for dress fittings,’ said Lizzie, looking around with delight.
‘I thought if you wanted Letty to have her own room, she could have this little room, which is very close.’ Alexandra remembered Véronique’s horror when she’d been asked to stay there.
‘Doesn’t Antoine mind moving out of his bedroom?’ asked Lizzie.
‘His godmother is very correct. She said we had to be chaperoned and while she wouldn’t really know, I think Antoine would find it difficult to look her in the eye if he hadn’t obeyed her instructions.’
‘I do like Antoine,’ said Hugo. ‘I’m glad. If I didn’t, I might have to forbid the banns or something.’
‘Although I appreciate your concern, Hugo,’ Alexandra said teasingly, ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’
David was delighted to be reunited with the girls and the first evening everyone sat up reminiscing and regaling Antoine with stories from their life together in London. It was only when Letty, asleep in a cradle behind the sofa, woke for a feed, that everyone realised how late it was and all went to bed.
Stéphie was in her element with a baby to look after and even Félicité blossomed being surrounded by women not so much older than herself, who treated her like an equal and genuinely admired her artwork.
Vanessa, who had arrived with Meg, came in an organisational mood and made lots of lists.
One of the first things that had to be done was for Alexandra and Antoine to visit the mairie to sort out the legal aspect of the ceremony. Alexandra produced her birth certificate and it was all very straightforward. That Antoine was an old friend of the mayor didn’t hurt either.
They arranged the date for the legal part of the wedding; the blessing in church would take place the day after.
‘I know your friends are organising a brilliant wedding for us,’ said Antoine on the way home. ‘But what do you want to do afterwards? Go away on honeymoon? We could go to London, or Switzerland – anywhere your heart desires.’
‘Can we pull over and have a proper talk? It’s all so busy at the chateau we hardly ever get a chance to see each other.’
Antoine found a farm gate to put the car into. ‘I know. My godmother could not have arranged it better.’
‘It’s a bit frustrating, isn’t it?’ said Alexandra.
‘Luckily we don’t have to wait long to be properly married and be able to live together in the chateau,’ said Antoine.
‘Which brings us to the matter of our honeymoon. Would you think I was very strange if I said I didn’t want to go away just yet? The children are just starting at their new school. I’d really like to know they’re properly settled before we disappear.’
‘Sometimes I think you love my children more than you love me!’ he said indignantly.
‘Oh, Antoine! I’m sure in time I’ll come to love you just as much—’ She collapsed into giggles as he tickled her and inevitably they ended up kissing.
They arrived back to lunch in the garden. The spring sunshine made it perfectly warm enough and it felt festive. But it was, it transpired, to be a working lunch.
‘We just need to pin you down on a few things,’ said Vanessa, who had her ever-present clipboard on the table beside her.
‘For example, what sort of cake do you want?’ asked Meg. ‘To be honest it’s a bit late for a traditional rich fruit one but I’d manage if your heart is set on that.’
‘I’ve never had to think about cake before,’ said Alexandra.
Antoine shrugged. ‘A traditional cake in France would be a croquembouche but I know they are tricky.’
Alexandra saw her friend’s eyes flash with excitement as she looked at David, who had been her partner in crime when they all lived in London.
‘David?’ said Meg. ‘Could we do it, do you think? Or should we ask a local pâtisserie?’
Alexandra knew that Meg longed to take on the challenge. ‘I’d love it if you felt you could do it, Meggy. I’d rather have it a bit wonky made by you and David than have it perfect from a shop.’ She glanced at Antoine, hoping he’d understand.
‘We would be so honoured if you would make our wedding cake,’ said Antoine, who obviously understood perfectly.
‘That’s decided then,’ said Vanessa, writing on the clipboard. ‘Could someone pass the quiche? I’m suddenly quite hungry.’
‘Would you want a sit-down do, or people standing around eating canapés?’ asked Meg, who had her own list.
‘People will have travelled, lots of them are staying, I think they should have a proper meal,’ said David, who liked nothing better than to feed people.
‘I agree,’ said Antoine. ‘We will be in the orangerie, after all.’
‘I’m doing a new mural, or at least a new bit,’ said Félicité. ‘One for you and Papa.’
‘Nothing too outrageous, please, chérie,’ said Antoine.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Alexandra. ‘I think you should have a free hand.’
After Antoine, David and Henri had gone off to do other things, the women remained, sharing another pichet of rosé and a plate of macarons – Meg’s first attempt at making them. There was still important planning to be done.
‘I’ve done some sketches for the dress,’ said Lizzie. ‘Obviously we won’t get fabric until Alexandra is completely happy with the design.’
‘I just want something very simple,’ Alexandra began.
‘And chic,’ went on Lizzie.
‘Long or short?’ asked Vanessa. ‘You’d look lovely in either.’
‘I think you should wear a long dress,’ said Stéphie, ‘with a crown.’
‘So do I!’ said Alexandra, glad to fit in with Stéphie’s ideas.
‘And me,’ agreed Lizzie. ‘I’ll make a toile. I’ve got time.’
‘What’s a toile?’ asked Stéphie.
When it had been explained that a toile was a version of the dress in cheaper fabric so it could be fitted perfectly, Stéphie said, ‘Can I have it afterwards?’
‘Of course you can,’ said Alexandra. ‘We can take it up a bit.’
‘What about bridesmaids’ dresses?’ asked Félicité.
Alexandra overheard a small gasp from Lizzie and realised it would be far too much work for her to make them as well.
‘Can’t I wear the one I wore for Grand-mère’s wedding?’ said Stéphie. ‘I love that dress! Do I have to have something different?’
‘Did you like the dress, Félicité?’ asked Lizzie nobly, probably hoping the answer would be yes.
‘It was all right,’ said Félicité. ‘I don’t mind wearing it again.’
‘I was really sorry to miss seeing you in the ones you had for Penelope and Jack’s wedding,’ said Alexandra. ‘But only if you’re sure …’
Félicité hadn’t been as excited to have another wedding to plan as Stéphie had, although she had enjoyed the way Alexandra’s friends had drawn her into the group. ‘I’m sure,’ she said.
‘So you and Félicité will have dresses,’ said Alexandra. ‘What about my English bridesmaids?’
‘I’m sure we can buy dresses,’ said Meg. ‘How do they put it? Prêt-à-porter?’
‘Ready to wear?’ said Lizzie. ‘Would they be nice enough?’
‘The shop where we had our dresses made in Nice had some nice things,’ said Félicité. ‘My mother recommended the shop so of course it was terribly expensive.’
‘No need to worry about that, I’m about to come into a fortune!’ Alexandra couldn’t help laughing. It was all so crazy. ‘We can go and look and if they’re not nice enough, we’ll try another shop. Now, can you pass the macarons? They are awfully good, Meggy.’
‘It was difficult to get them off the paper but I am quite pleased with them,’ said Meg, inspecting the pale green circle she was holding.
Later, when Lizzie and Alexandra were alone in the room that had been Jack’s bedroom and was now the dressmaking room, Alexandra sighed.
‘I know you got a bit frustrated with your mother and her plans for your wedding,’ Alexandra said to Lizzie while her friend measured her from armpit to floor. ‘But a few plans would come in handy. There’s so much to do, so many decisions to make.’
Lizzie noted down the measurement and then hugged her friend. ‘I’m so sorry. It must be hard for you, not having a mother at a time like this.’
Alexandra cleared her throat. ‘I always assume that I manage perfectly well without parents, but maybe they do have their uses! But while I haven’t got a mother and father, I do have lots of people who love me and look after me.’
‘David adores you. He’s the best kind of father, I think,’ said Lizzie. ‘He doesn’t boss you about but he’ll always help you out of a scrape and doesn’t shout.’
‘I don’t know what would have happened to me without David,’ said Alexandra, thinking of the time when she lived with him in London. ‘He’s agreed to walk me down the aisle.’
‘And I think Stéphie will make an excellent mother substitute,’ said Lizzie. ‘She’s bossy, knows what’s best for you and loves you very much.’
‘And Penelope and Jack! Penelope only had a really short honeymoon because of my wedding.’
‘She’s a little scary but determined that everything will be perfect. She still needs convincing that Meg’s food will be good enough and that’s just for the dinner the night before!’
Alexandra smiled. ‘I know! That’s partly because the caterers are friends of hers. Pam and Elizabeth. Both English and both very good cooks. Although I don’t know what Penelope will say when she finds out that Meggy and David are making a croquembouche!’
‘Although I know Meg and David would have done a wonderful job with the food, I’m glad you’ve got caterers. Then David and Meg can join in the party properly.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Alexandra. ‘And if the croquembouche collapses, so be it!’
Lizzie laughed. ‘Can I measure you across the shoulders? You can be relaxed about your croquembouche if you like, but we want your dress to look as if it really has been made by Givenchy.’
‘And as if I really am Audrey Hepburn!’
Several days later, everyone agreed that Lizzie had, in David’s words, ‘played a blinder’. Alexandra, in her simple column wedding dress, sleeveless with a stand-up collar, looked more beautiful than Audrey Hepburn. Her hair was arranged (by Donna, who’d come down from Paris with Bob and who was by far the best at it) into a chignon. A long veil held in place by a tiara (lent by Antoine’s godmother) floated down her back.
But the buckle had fallen off Alexandra’s shoe and Lizzie was sewing it on again. Inside the church Pachebel’s canon in D could be heard playing (Henri and a friend had practised and practised and were now playing beautifully).
David was striding about, as anxious as any father about to walk his daughter down the aisle. Maxime was there too, impossibly handsome in his wedding clothes.
‘It doesn’t seem very long ago when we were arranging your wedding,’ said Meg to Lizzie, making conversation, possibly seeing that Alexandra was getting nervous. ‘And now we’re organising a wedding in Provence.’
‘Your turn next, Meg,’ said Vanessa.
‘I’m not planning on getting married,’ said Meg. ‘At least not for years. I’m going to have a career.’
‘Good for you, Meggy,’ said David. ‘I feel as if I’m about to go on as Hamlet at Stratford.’
‘Courage, mon brave!’ said Maxime, and clapped him on the shoulder. Alexandra happened to be looking and saw the look that was exchanged between the two men. Ah! she thought. Of course! Maxime is David’s special friend. How lovely! She smiled broadly at them and David made a face, unable to hide his happiness.
‘There, that’s done,’ said Lizzie, who had missed all this.
‘Thank goodness,’ said David. ‘Now put your shoe on, Cinderella, and I’ll escort you to your Prince Charming.’
‘But Papa is only a comte, not a prince,’ objected Stéphie.
‘I know, darling,’ said Alexandra, kissing her cheek. ‘But sometimes you have to lower your standards a little. And I do love him!’
