Chapter 16
16
‘I got your messages, but I wanted to double-check with you in person before I did anything,’ Annabel said the moment Fiona arrived at the office. ‘Are you sure you want me to cancel all these orders?’
‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve already done it. Have you completely cleared my schedule?’
‘Everyone, apart from Octavia. Is she coming here?’ she asked, part trepidation, part excitement in her voice. It was difficult for Fiona to remember that her client had a rather large fan base among the younger generation, although that was what she was now counting on.
‘Yes,’ she nodded, pulling out one of her coffee pods, only to look at it and let out a groan of frustration. She dropped it back into the packet. ‘She’s coming here at ten. And I’ll explain everything when we’ve got a little time to ourselves. But first I need you to do a job for me.’
‘Of course, what is it? What do you need?’
Fiona pressed her lips together and studied her coffee machine. How many early mornings had it got her through? Too many to mention. And was it really that bad, a couple of little coffee pods now and again? With a resolve she knew she couldn’t allow to waver, she turned and, with a renewed determination, said to Annabel, ‘I need you to go buy me a cafetière.’
While Annabel was scouring the shops for a decent coffee-making device and ground beans, Fiona went through her notes. It had been years since she’d had to resort to little aide memoires. But there was a lot to remember today.
It was after eleven by the time she’d reached London the previous night. At home, she’d immediately gone to her laptop, to her contacts list. It had been far too late to speak to anyone then, even Annabel. But she’d started on the research and emails.
There had been so much to read up on. She had skimmed through every last paper and article she could find. Not to mention all the orders that had to be cancelled. Maybe that could have waited until the morning, but some of the suppliers worked in different time zones. Better to deal with them straight away. When she’d finally packed up for the night, she had been through each and every single one of the documents that she’d created for the Lovett-Rose–Rosenberg wedding. She was prepared. Or as prepared as she could be. It was all very Jerry Maguire-esque.
Ordinarily, she would have felt exhausted on so little sleep, but there was too much adrenaline in her system. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt more invigorated than this. Pacing around her office, she read and re-read the cards, trying to commit as much as she could to memory.
‘Do you want me to get anything else?’ Annabel asked when she arrived back, with the coffee maker swathed in bubble wrap. Oh my God, I can’t escape it, she groaned to herself, balking at the sight. She shook her head. She would find a use for it.
‘Maybe I should go get some Champagne?’ Annabel offered, unpacking the device and placing it next to the demoted coffee machine. ‘Ooh, I saw on her Instagram that she loves elderflower wine. Perhaps some of that?’
‘Maybe.’ Fiona pondered whether her client might be more receptive to new ideas if plied with alcohol. She shook her head. If nothing else, she needed a clear head right now and, if Octavia had a glass, Fiona would be obliged to join her. ‘No. On second thoughts, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘What about croissants or pastries? I could pop down to the bakery and get a few things.’
‘That sounds better,’ she agreed. ‘Yes. Yes, see if you can get something nice.’
Annabel made a motion as if to leave, only to hesitate and stop.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?’ she asked.
A swarm of butterflies flapped excitedly around Fiona’s stomach.
‘I will. After I’ve spoken to Octavia. Then I’ll tell you exactly. It’s going to be good. Trust me, it’s going to be really good.’
With another hour to go, she tested out her new cafetière to make sure the adrenaline didn’t drop off before Octavia arrived. It didn’t seem likely, although there was no need to be nervous. Her clients trusted her. Particularly Dominic. She’d asked them all to take risks with her in the past and they’d all been glad they had. They would trust her on this too. But, right now, the wedding was the biggest issue. The wedding was the issue.
‘You need to believe in yourself,’ she said aloud, as she closed her eyes and took a few deep, meditative breaths. Octavia was a reasonable woman. Wasn’t that why they got on so well? And when she came on side, the rest would follow.
Her eyes fell on her bag and the photo. ‘Don’t worry, Martha. I’m going to sort this out. I’m going to make it right.’
Ten minutes after the appointed time, Octavia Lovett-Rose burst into her office.
‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she said, kissing twice on each cheek this time. Four kisses in all. It was a good job the wedding was only three months away. Any more of this and Fiona wouldn’t be sure what level of intimacy a simple greeting would entail.
‘Don’t be silly.’ She ushered her towards the comfy seats in the alcove. ‘It’s entirely on me. I’m so sorry I had to call you in.’
‘It sounded urgent.’ Octavia hovered, still not taking a seat. ‘It’s not the venue is it? Please don’t tell me it’s the venue.’
‘It’s not the venue,’ she replied, raising her hand and gesturing to a seat. ‘The venue is fine.’
A wave of relief washed visibly over Octavia, as she dropped down into the chair. She pressed her hands against her chest. ‘Thank goodness. Well,’ she sighed, ‘as long as it’s not that, I can pretty much deal with anything.’
Fiona smiled discreetly to herself. That was just what she needed to hear. ‘All right.’ She dropped her smile and took a deep breath. ‘The first issue as I see it?—’
‘The first issue?’ Octavia’s jaw dropped in alarm. ‘You mean there’s more than one?’
Fiona shook her head, attempting to start over. ‘Let me explain.’ Another deep breath. ‘The first issue is with the balloon rainbow arch you wanted.’
‘Can they not do it?’ Octavia was clearly in a fight-or-flight mode. ‘Will they not allow it? I thought you said that wouldn’t be a problem. I’ve seen things like that before, online.’
‘Well…’ She paused, ensuring she was picking the right words. ‘It’s not so much that they wouldn’t, but whether they shouldn’t.’
Octavia’s eyebrows creased. ‘What do you mean, whether they shouldn’t?’
A lump had formed in Fiona’s throat. Rising from her seat, she poured two glasses of water, handing one to Octavia.
‘I was thinking about all the conversations we’ve had, you know, about doing our bit. And obviously you’re giving a large portion of the photo shoot money to charity?—’
‘A hospice for arthritic dogs,’ Octavia interrupted. ‘That’s the charity Charlie and I have decided on.’
Fiona smiled. ‘That sounds wonderful. So, I guess what I’m asking is whether, from an environmental point of view, a balloon arch is the type of thing you want associated with your wedding?’
Octavia looked even more puzzled. ‘From an environmental point of view?’ she asked, slowly.
‘You see,’ Fiona leaned forward, flexing her fingers as she fought to arrange the stream of words racing through her mind. ‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘What will happen after the wedding? Maybe some of the children take a couple of balloons home. Some of the staff at the hotel too. But what we’re talking about here are standard balloons. Within a week, they’ll all have burst or deflated and be nothing more than scraps of waste plastic destined for landfill. Or worse. Did you know that balloons are responsible for more sea bird deaths than anything else?’
‘That’s terrible.’ A line formed on Octavia’s brow. ‘So, you mean go for something with a bit more longevity? Like, maybe those helium ones?’ She shrugged. ‘That could look great too.’
‘No, no.’ Fiona shook her head and gulped down more water. ‘That’s not what I mean. I mean you should scrap them. Get rid of them altogether.’
‘Scrap them?’
‘Yes, all the balloons.’
‘But I thought we agreed the room was too bare?’
‘We did. I was thinking maybe you decorate it with plants instead.’
‘Plants?’
‘Like giant sunflowers. Children love sunflowers. And they’ll go so well with the clown theme too.’
Holding her breath, she watched as Octavia’s jaw moved from side to side. Contemplative, but not yet dismissive. ‘Not to mention the flower wall in the spring room. It would be like a children’s extension of that.’
The jaw rolling changed to a slow nod.
‘So, you like the idea?’
‘I do.’ Octavia smiled. ‘I really do.’
‘Great.’ Fiona allowed herself a second’s respite to enjoy the first victory. ‘Okay, the next thing is the candle holders on the tables. I was thinking you could change them for vintage ones.’
This time, Octavia’s nose wrinkled. ‘We were looking for something fresh, unique.’
‘Exactly. If you buy new, you’re going to be copied and you will lose the unique look you are hoping for. It’s annoying, but true. As soon as people see what you’ve done, you know they’re going to go out and buy the exact same thing. It’s flattering, but I’m sure it’s not what you want. This day has to be different. Just about you . If we go vintage on it, there’s no way that can happen. And, trust me, I will find you the freshest, most summery-looking centrepieces in history.
‘And on that front, the confetti cannons when you come down the aisle? I think they should fire real petals. I know you won’t get the sparkly effect you were thinking of but, let’s be honest, real petals would look so much classier. And,’ she added with a wink, ‘be far better for the environment too.’
Octavia grinned. As did Fiona. It was all going to plan. Exactly as she’d hoped. There was just one more issue to tackle. A big one, but with Octavia so on board with the rest of it, she didn’t feel there was any need to hold back now.
‘The winter forest and snowflakes in your winter wonderland room…’
‘Is everything okay there?’
Fiona inhaled deeply. This one was going to take some doing.
‘I need to be honest with you,’ she said. ‘I cancelled the trees.’
Octavia’s jaw dropped. ‘You did what? The trees were the key feature of the whole day! The four seasons. You can’t have four seasons without the winter wonderland.’
‘I know, I know, I completely understand that.’ Fiona nodded supportively. ‘But do you need them? There are other ways to do this. I was searching online and look.’ She turned her laptop around to show the image on the screen. ‘You could have these. Branches. They’re cut from real trees and I think they look just as good as, if not better than the white ones we’d chosen. And for the snowflakes, I’ve found some amazing paper ones.’
‘You mean like the sort you cut out when you’re at nursery school?’
‘Exactly!’ she gesticulated energetically. It had taken less time to explain this part of the vision than she’d anticipated.
‘You want painted twigs and paper snowflakes. You want my wedding to look like it was decorated by a bunch of toddlers?’ The tone in Octavia’s voice came as a surprise, given her previously accepting manner. ‘We were going for crystals, remember? Fairy lights and crystals.’
‘I do, I do. But you can get some amazing things created more sustainably now. Artists are doing phenomenal things with paper.’
‘I think you’re losing me here.’
Fiona lowered her hands and sat back into her chair. ‘I get it. I do.’ She waited a second, giving Octavia time to digest what she’d said. She wasn’t deterred. New ideas always met resistance, and she still had her ace up her sleeve.
‘Look,’ she said, when she felt she’d given Octavia enough time to ruminate. ‘When we first met, you told me how you wanted your wedding to be different. How you wanted it to stand out. That’s why you hired me.’
‘I know. And you’ve done a great job.’
‘Have I?’ she asked. ‘What’s different about it though? What’s new? Nothing. Not really. It’s in a great venue, you’ve got fun ideas with the different sections of the room but, honestly, is it that special? You and Charlie could start a trend. A green wedding. An ethical wedding.’
‘I happen to like the wedding we’d planned.’
‘Really? You like pandering to the whims of the high-society fashionistas? And spending a grotesque amount of money on things you don’t even need? You said to me you want to be different,’ she repeated.
‘It is different.’
‘No.’ Fiona could hear her voice rising, but she needed to get her point across. It was too late to stop now. ‘It isn’t different. It’s extravagant?—’
‘Extravagance stands out.’
‘Yes, in all the wrong ways. Why the hell do you need to pay three thousand pounds for a kid’s clown, for crying out loud? It’s absurd. And twenty-five grand on flowers? Do you have any idea how much that would be worth to the average person? And you’re just going to throw them away at the end of the day.’
‘Actually, we were looking at donating them to charity,’ Octavia growled.
‘Great.’ Fiona’s enthusiasm was at its peak now. ‘That’s a good thing. A great thing! Now look at all the other things you could do. Look at what you could achieve. You influence people. You have power over today’s youth. If you have this wedding as we’d planned it, what does that tell them? That excess is the thing they should aspire to? That you’re not successful unless you can afford a cake layered with real gold?’
‘That’s the autumn theme,’ Octavia spat.
‘It’s obscenely over the top. You’re an intelligent and reasonable woman. Surely you realise that all of this is just to satisfy some entitled part of your own ego? Don’t you want something different? Don’t you actually want to do something worthwhile for a change?’
Only when she saw that Octavia’s cheeks had taken on a distinctly purplish hue did Fiona realise that she may have taken it a step too far.