Page 41 of Always the Bridesmaid

The wedding venue is an exclusive use, Palladian-style mansion from the eighteenth century, which has been modernized to include a small spa in what were old stables but which have retained alluring, seventeen hundred’s luxury.

Our party ascends the stone steps from a gravel driveway, turning our backs on an ornate water fountain and vast country views. I imagine how beautiful Jess is going to look, standing on those steps in her dress for photographs the next day, which is set to be fine weather.

A concierge brings inside our bags and dresses, which we’ve been assured are going to be hung ‘with urgency’ by the staff to avoid creasing. I love how posh Brits speak.

‘It’s the King’s English,’ Izzy says.

Inside the mansion, the entrance has a marble floor and marble pillars. Gold trimmings finish the decorative walls, and crystal chandeliers, large and low, sparkle in the light that shines through tall, wood-trimmed windows.

The staff are dressed in period attire that screams Downton Abbey. A pianist – who I assume will be the pianist for the wedding – appears to be practicing alongside a concert harpist. To my ears, he needn’t practice at all.

‘It’s magical,’ Jess breathes.

I have to agree, it’s magnificent. Prior to arriving today, I have only seen it on the website, which already makes the venue look and sound incredible. It hasn’t nearly done it justice.

We are shown to the bridal suite – a trove of fancy treasures and upholstery – where we take our spa attire from our bags, then head off in search of it.

The day passes in a blur of coffees, cakes, nail gels, body oils and wedding conversation. Jess giddily describes the places she wants to see whilst on honeymoon in the Philippines. Becky relays the plans she has made for the day after the wedding for her and Drew, before they go home to New York. Izzy theatrically imagines the lunch she has booked with her parents, Brooks and Cady on Sunday – Meet the Fockers style. Drew’s mum and Jess’s aunt discuss the best matinees currently showing in the West End and where best to get post-theatre food. Millie says over and over, ‘I feel like my ears have fallen off’ and regales us with hilarious stories about the silly things her kids do, despite being ecstatic about having some ‘me time’ away from them. In equal measure, she criticizes Eddie and praises him for keeping the kids in check this week.

I take it all in, excited for the others but saddened that my sight-seeing adventures around London next week are going to be undertaken alone.

No matter, I am a big girl and after a week of company – some people’s more pleasant than others – some time alone might be nice.

You have plenty of solo company at home, says the black dog on my shoulder, but I choose to ignore it, as I have become so good at doing.

Bark somewhere else, hound.

After dinner, everyone except the bride and bridesmaids departs, following lots of well wishes, compliments and hugs for Jess.

‘This is it,’ Jess says as she stands in the lobby with Izzy, Becky and me at her side. ‘I’m getting married tomorrow.’

I lean my temple against hers. ‘Yeah, you are. To a great guy, too.’

I open my eyes widely, telling my tears they mustn’t fall. This is not about me, or Danny, or loneliness, jealousy, anger, sadness, or anything else. It is about two of my best friends agreeing to spend the rest of their lives together.

For their sakes, I hope those lives are long.

17

SARAH

Chaos.

Beautiful. Energized. Emotional. Chaos.

Isn’t that how every bride’s wedding morning could be described?

I remember my own.

Danny and I were married in a church – his family practicing Catholics. I, like Jess, had a gorgeous bridal suite in the hotel in which we held our wedding breakfast.

I had two bridesmaids, both friends of couples Danny and I had been friends with. Neither of those women I see regularly these days.

In the months following Danny’s death – after the initial weeks of people rallying and offering their eternal support to me as a new widow – I noticed my friendship circle slowly dwindle. There hadn’t been malice in it, I didn’t think, but being my friend in the wake of Danny’s tragic accident had become too difficult.

Do we invite her out with us as a couple anymore? Can we be couple-y in front of her? Will her very presence bring down the mood? What do we say to her?

Those were just some of the questions I imagine my old friends repeatedly asked themselves, until eventually they only saw me at a yoga class or for events and activities that had been pigeon-holed for women only, like baby showers and spa days. Even then, due to the latter two questions I suspect, I don’t often receive invites anymore.

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