Twelve
Eva had learned over the years that there were two kinds of wedding venues: the ones people chose because they loved them, and the ones people chose because they sounded right when said to other people.
Hawthorne Manor was the second kind.
Eva regarded the place from the car park as she got out of her car. Symmetrical stone facade, long gravel drive, clipped yew hedges standing to attention. The sky was a pale, obedient blue. Even the sheep in the distance looked flawless.
But Eva found it somehow soulless.
Adam pulled up behind her, Maddy in the passenger seat. Adam let out a low whistle as he got out of the car. ‘Now this,’ he said, ‘this is a wedding venue.’
Eva smiled neutrally. She had no right to resent his enthusiasm. He was the groom. He was supposed to have opinions. He was supposed to be here.
Maddy got out and smiled brightly. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. Eva could have sworn she detected a question mark at the end of the sentence.
‘It’s available for your date, but it’s three times more expensive than the greenhouse,’ Eva noted.
‘But you can see why,’ Adam grinned, unworried.
They stepped out onto the crunching gravel. A man in a navy blazer with a waxed moustache was already descending the front steps toward them, hand extended, voice carrying.
‘Welcome to Hawthorne Manor! You must be Maddy and Adam. And you’re Eva?’
Eva shook his hand. ‘That’s me.’
‘I’m Ralph. Welcome to Hawthorne Manor.’
The tour began with the Great Hall. Vaulted ceiling, ancestral portraits, a fireplace large enough to roast something medieval. Adam turned in a slow circle, grinning.
‘Imagine the photos in here,’ he said.
Maddy nodded. ‘Yes. It’s very… classic.’
Eva said nothing.
They moved through the building, passing through the ceremony room and the dining room and out into formal gardens that unfurled in careful geometry. If you wanted a wedding that looked like an OK! magazine spread, you would struggle to do better.
Adam was in his element, asking about fireworks licences and string quartets. Maddy walked beside him, fingers laced through his, smiling at the appropriate moments.
They were brought back out and shown the carriage circle at the front of the house, a sweeping curve of gravel bordered by low stone walls.
‘And of course,’ Ralph said smoothly, ‘many couples choose to arrive by horse and carriage. It’s rather magical, coming up the drive.’
‘That would be incredible,’ Adam said immediately. ‘Can you imagine, Maddy? You, arriving in a carriage?’
Eva hoped that this was the moment. It should have been the moment. Because it had been one of the few strong opinions she’d gotten out of Maddy. She didn’t want to play princess for the day. It wasn’t her.
Maddy laughed lightly. ‘That does sound magical.’
Eva kept her face still.
Adam was warming to the idea. ‘It’s the kind of thing you don’t get to do twice,’ he said. ‘Proper fairy-tale stuff.’
Ralph beamed. ‘We have a wonderful supplier. White horses, plumed headpieces…’
Maddy nodded again. ‘Certainly something to think about.’
Eva wrote carriage option—pricing? in the margin of her notebook and pressed her pen a little too hard. She told herself: He has a right to suggest it. She has a right to change her mind.
But already, she knew Maddy’s tells when she was being talked into something she hated. The way her smile flattened at the edges. The way she tilted her head slightly, like a quizzical dog.
Why didn’t Adam see it? Maybe he did. Maybe they’d talk later, and he’d say, ‘Are you really sure?’ and she’d be honest with him. Maybe that was how they worked.
She really hoped it was how they worked.
By the time they were shown a private lounge upstairs for the groomsmen to hang out in pre-wedding, with its velvet armchairs and tall windows overlooking the grounds, Adam’s tongue was hanging out.
‘I can see it,’ he said.
Maddy looked at Eva. Eva gave her what she hoped was a neutral, encouraging smile. ‘What do you think?’
‘Yeah,’ Maddy said.
They ended the tour back at the front steps. Adam lingered to ask about a dove release.
Maddy drifted down the steps toward the side garden, as if in need of air. Eva followed without saying anything. They walked in silence until the house was obscured by a stand of trees.
‘It’s very grand,’ Eva said carefully.
Maddy nodded. ‘It is.’
‘And the carriage,’ Eva added, keeping her tone light. ‘Very fairy-tale.’
Maddy’s smile wilted. ‘I guess.’
Eva waited. Maddy stared out at the lawns.
‘You said you didn’t want a carriage,’ Eva said gently.
Maddy’s head shifted slightly. ‘Did I? Oh.’ She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. ‘Well. That was ages ago.’
‘It was two weeks ago.’
Maddy smiled. ‘People are allowed to change their minds.’
‘Mmm.’
Silence stretched.
Eva told herself to leave it. To trust that if something mattered enough, Maddy would say it.
But something was bubbling up.
‘You don’t have to like things just because he does,’ Eva said.
Maddy’s shoulders stiffened. ‘I do like it.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’
Eva felt irritation seep up, spilling over. ‘Maddy.’
‘What?’
‘You don’t have to—’
‘I know I don’t have to,’ Maddy snapped.
Eva blinked.
‘God, sorry,’ Maddy said, looking horrified.
‘Don’t do that. Don’t apologise for the first real emotion you’ve shown all day,’ Eva said.
Maddy looked confused. ‘I’m just tired.’
Eva knew she shouldn’t let out what she said next. But it came out anyway. ‘I’m not surprised. Pretending to be agreeable is exhausting.’
Maddy looked frightened. And then her jaw set in annoyance. ‘What does it matter if it’s not exactly what I want?’
Eva wanted to say, Because I watched you light up in that greenhouse. Because I watched you shrink when it disappeared. But that was a crazy thing to say to a client. She needed to pull this all back and be more Eva.
‘It should matter,’ Eva eventually said evenly.
‘It’s not like I don’t like it.’
‘Maddy.’
‘It’s not,’ she repeated, but her voice wavered.
Eva felt her temper flare. ‘You were clear on not wanting a carriage. You didn’t want to be a Disney princess. Your words. And then he mentions it, and suddenly it’s magical.’
Maddy’s blue-green eyes filled so abruptly that it stole Eva’s breath.
‘Oh,’ Eva exclaimed. ‘Oh no.’
Maddy looked away, blinking rapidly. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re crying.’
‘I’m not.’ A tear wiggled out. ‘I’m just tired,’ she said again.
Eva was utterly mortified. ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry.’
‘You didn’t.’ Maddy pressed her fingers to her eyes, as if she could push the tear back in.
‘I’m just… ‘I’m just trying to be easy,’ Maddy said finally.
‘It already feels so hard. The greenhouse. His dad. Everyone has opinions. If he loves this place, why does it have to be a fight about a, a, a… a horse?!’
‘Because you’re crying over it.’
‘That’s because you keep, you know, cross-examining me. I mean, what if this is just what compromise looks like?’ Maddy whispered. ‘What if I’m being unreasonable, wanting everything to feel like mine?’
Eva felt sick. ‘You’re not unreasonable,’ she said. ‘You’re allowed to matter at your own wedding.’
Maddy’s face crumpled.
Eva, who had never in her life been what you’d call ‘a hugger’, stepped forward instinctively and pulled her into a hug. Maddy collapsed against her, shoulders shaking.
‘I don’t want to be difficult,’ she said into Eva’s jacket.
‘You’re not difficult.’
‘I don’t want to be the uptight bride who ruins things.’
‘You’re not ruining anything,’ Eva promised her.
They stood there longer than they should have.
The gravel crunched in the distance, and they both stiffened. Maddy pulled back first, wiping at her face. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t apologise.’
‘I’m being bloody ridiculous.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I bet you’re holding weeping brides all the time,’ Maddy said with something halfway between a chuckle and a sniffle.
‘Actually, I usually just stick to a shoulder pat,’ Eva said honestly.
Maddy looked at Eva. Eva looked at Maddy. Something happened. Nothing you could really see. It had to be felt.
And they both felt it.
Then Maddy looked down, inhaled, and steadied herself. The mask began to slide back into place.
‘Please don’t think he’s awful,’ she said quietly. ‘He just gets excited.’
Eva nodded, wondering why her heart was racing. ‘Okay.’
‘And don’t tell me what I want,’ Maddy added, almost pleading. ‘Even if you’re right.’
Eva sighed. ‘That’s going to be very hard.’
A ghost of a real smile flickered across Maddy’s face. ‘I know.’
They heard Adam call their names then. He sounded so cheerful, Eva wanted to slap him.
When they walked back toward the house, Maddy’s expression was composed, and her eyes were dry. Adam waved a folder in the air.
‘They can hold the date for a week!’ he said. ‘And they’ve got availability for the carriage company. We might just have to ask my dad for a little bit of money, but he’ll be happy to pitch in.’
Maddy smiled. ‘That’s great.’
Eva watched Maddy carefully, and she thought, I don’t care what she says. That man is a tit. Because he couldn’t see Maddy’s performance. He couldn’t see the crack in it.