A Groom With a View by Sophie Ranald Read Free Book Online Page B

return our key and I came home from work one day to find her hoovering our mattress, saying brightly that she thought she’d ‘pop in and help out with a spring-clean, since you’re obviously so busy, Pippa’. And when she sent me a copy of The Greedy Girl’s Diet for my last birthday. And the time. . . anyway, as I’ve said, I was frankly delighted when Erica decided to take herself and her organising ways off to Africa. I felt tears of anger sting my eyes.
    “Pippa, I’m really sorry,” Nick said. “Can you see where this leaves me, though? What could I do?”
    “You could have asked me,” I said. “Just asked.”
    “And what would you have said?”
    “I’d have said. . . I’d have said yes, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing else I can say.”
    “It’ll be fine, Pip. I promise it will. Just trust me.”
    “I do trust you,” I said miserably. It was Erica I didn’t trust.
    “Good,” Nick said. “And Pip? I really don’t want this wedding to be stressful for you. It’s your day. It’s not supposed to be a massive drama. So let me do my share, okay? Don’t worry about the guest list and the cousins. I’ll sort it out.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: Re: Booking enquiry
    Hi Imogen
    Just to confirm our booking for Sunday night. We’ll arrive mid-afternoon, and it would be great if you could be there to show us round. I hope that’s not too much trouble.
    Look forward to meeting you.
    Regards
    Nick
    “So I’m not worrying about the guest list and the cousins,” I told Callie and Phoebe. “He’s sorting it out.”
    Phoebe laughed so much she actually snorted wine out of her nose. “He’s sorting it out? What’s he going to do? Organise a badger-style cull of them? Defriend loads of them on Facebook? Demand DNA tests so he can say some of them aren’t actual cousins?”
    It was a week later, we were almost three bottles of wine down, and I was ready to see the funny side of it all myself.
    “Not invite anyone else?” Callie suggested. “So the only guests at your wedding will be Nick’s mum and. . . cousins ? Which of them is going to be your chief bridesmaid? Normal for Norfolk cousin Deirdre?”
    “Stop!” I bent over the table, laughing so much it hurt. “I don’t know what he’s going to do. But I’m sure he’ll work something out. There’s masses of time still, we haven’t even booked the venue yet. And anyway, this is supposed to be a wedding planning summit conference, not a mass piss-take.” I hiccupped and took another sip of wine, then started to giggle again.
    “Not booked the venue? Pippa, I know you’re relaxed about these things but surely you need to get something sorted soon?” Callie looked alarmed. “I’m your chief bridesmaid, assuming you don’t sack me off and appoint a cousin, and it’s my job to worry about stuff like that.”
    “Well, you’re not allowed to worry about cousins or venues. You can worry about. . .” I racked my brains. “The hen night! Aren’t we supposed to go clubbing in Newcastle, and we all wear tiny skirts and hold-ups with the tops showing and no coats, and then pictures of us appear in articles about binge drinking?”
    “No, that’s not how it works,” said Phoebe. “You’re going to do it the posh way. You book a week in Ibiza at a villa with a private chef and a yoga instructor and a beautician coming in every day to give us massages and manicures, then you tell your friends it’s going to cost two grand each and we have a massive falling out because none of us can afford to go.”
    Because of having to help out her mum caring for her dad, Phoebe can only work part-time as a teaching assistant, and is consequently skint almost all the time. Still, I thought, two grand for a hen weekend was bonkers in anyone’s book.
    “Do people really do that?” I said.
    “You bet they do,” said Callie. “I’ve been to six hen parties in the