Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
When she walked into the formal dining room at the castle the next evening, Heather realised that the rehearsal dinner was going to be a very different vibe to the cosy dinner she’d had at the Inn with her family.
Heather and Catriona hadn’t actually organised a formal rehearsal dinner at all, but it had been one of the things on Elizabeth’s list, and, given that she’d had to refuse so many other things, Heather had felt bad and agreed to let her organise it.
They were only two nights away from the wedding now, and, although Heather would have preferred to have a night putting her feet up, she still wanted to placate Elizabeth.
Also, Heather was still worried about the day before when Matty had gone off with his mother.
He’d knocked on her bedroom door, later in the evening, and said goodnight, but he’d seemed out of sorts.
Heather had asked if Elizabeth was all right, and Matty had said yes, but Heather knew there was more he wasn’t saying.
Tonight, Matty was on edge, and so was she.
Everyone was in evening dress. Heather didn’t really see the point; the wedding was her big day, and she would have much rather had a simple dinner in some comfy clothes and then gone to bed. But Elizabeth had sent everyone one of her monogrammed cards, written in her spiky handwriting.
You are cordially invited to the rehearsal dinner for
Heather Balhennie and Matthew Campbell
Formal dining room, Balhennie Castle
Thursday 23 December, 8 p.m.
Black tie/Evening dress
Heather had rolled her eyes when she’d been handed the card by one of Elizabeth’s assistants, but here they all were.
‘Please find your place card,’ Elizabeth trilled as everyone arrived. ‘Ah, Lady Balhennie, you’re sitting by Arthur, and I’m sitting by the Laird.’
‘Did that woman just tell James where he can sit… in his own castle?’ Primrose said in an undertone to Heather, who fought the desire to smirk.
‘You wouldn’t think that was someone who almost drowned in the Sound of Raasay a few days ago,’ Catriona added. ‘She made it look like she was about to die, flying in that exclusive doctor, and all… and now, here she is, bossing us around over place cards.’
Heather dearly wished she could reply to Elizabeth with something acerbic, but Matty was standing next to her, and she didn’t want to upset him.
‘Well, let’s get this over with.’ Aunt Joan lowered herself into the closest chair, ignoring the place cards. Elizabeth tip-tapped her way over to her and examined the card in front of her on the table.
‘Oh, no, Joan. Your place is over there.’ Elizabeth pointed to a seat on the other side of the table. ‘This is Clara’s seat.’
‘Oh, is it?’ Aunt Joan took the place name card from between Elizabeth’s fingers and held it out to Violet, who was standing next to her. ‘Violet, dear. Swap this one with the one over there, would you?’ She shot a challenging stare at Elizabeth, whose mouth formed a perfect O for a moment.
‘Yes, Auntie.’ Violet took the card and swapped it over, and then sat down next to Aunt Joan. ‘Blue, swap with me. I’m going to sit here.’ She handed another card to her sister.
‘There we are. Problem solved,’ Aunt Joan said to Elizabeth.
‘Wait! Stop it!’ Elizabeth cried out, but everyone was sitting down and making themselves comfortable.
‘Dear, why don’t you just let everyone sit where they like? It’s not the House of Lords,’ Arthur said jovially. Heather watched Elizabeth’s face flush with embarrassment. In that moment, as her husband undermined her in public, she suddenly felt bad for Lady Campbell.
‘Where did you want us to sit, Elizabeth?’ Heather asked her kindly, but Elizabeth shrugged.
‘What does it matter? It’s ruined now. Sit anywhere,’ Elizabeth muttered, and went back to her seat.
Heather wondered what Matty and his mother had talked about the night before whether Elizabeth had been more human in private than she usually was in public.
‘What is a rehearsal dinner, anyway?’ Aunt Chrissie asked, next to Heather. ‘We all know how to eat by now.’
‘Maybe we’re going to learn how to eat escargots with that special fork thingy,’ Bluebell piped up.
‘Oh, right. Or an oyster masterclass.’ Primrose nodded sagely. ‘How to swallow something fishily gelatinous while looking graceful.’
Elizabeth, who was fully within hearing range, glowered at the sisters, but said nothing.
‘No… come on, everyone. I think it’s that we all need to practice our curtseys, for when the helicopters land,’ Sorrel chipped in.
‘To be the sensible one for a moment, I think it’s a chance to practise speeches,’ Blossom replied, grinning at her sisters and laying a monogrammed napkin on her lap.
Blossom sat next to Sorrel and her boyfriend Tam, who, Heather saw, held hands even though they were sitting next to each other. Heather thought how adorable they were; she was so glad that her oldest sister had a second chance at love with her childhood sweetheart.
‘If there’s a chance for a free dinner, I’m in,’ Tom said loudly; Heather watched as Blossom scowled.
Tom seemed quite tipsy already, and had clearly been taking advantage of the champagne before dinner.
The contrast between Blossom and Tom and Sorrel and Tam was marked; there was no softness, no affection between Blossom and her partner.
‘You’re going back to the room to look after the kids after. Remember?’ Blossom hissed, leaning in towards him. ‘Go easy on the drinks, please.’
‘Can’t you do it?’ Tom looked world-weary.
‘No! I’ve been looking after them all day. This is my sister’s wedding. I’m allowed to spend some time with her,’ Blossom replied tartly. ‘Please don’t act as if you’re so terribly burdened by our children, Tom. You’ve hardly done any childcare since we’ve been here.’
‘I’m on holiday.’ Tom shrugged, pouring himself a glass of wine and draining half of it in one go.
‘We’ve got the radio.’ He pointed to an in-room intercom which sat on the table between them.
Occasionally, a red light flashed on it as one of their sleeping children, in a bedroom on the next floor, stirred.
‘We agreed that you’d go back after dinner and I could stay down,’ Blossom muttered. ‘You know that Archie has a cold.’
‘He’ll be fine,’ Tom said dismissively. ‘You worry too much.’
‘It’s all right, love,’ Catriona interrupted. ‘I’ll have my dinner quickly and then go up and keep an eye on them. You two can have a night off.’
‘Mum, you don’t have to do that.’ Blossom looked defeated. Heather could see what she was thinking: it was lovely that their mother had stepped in, but she shouldn’t have to. Tom should understand Blossom’s feelings – and more to the point, be a better parent.
‘Well, if you’ve all quite finished,’ Elizabeth said, interrupting. ‘The order of speeches is on the agenda in front of you. We can tweak anything that doesn’t work now, before the big day.’
‘What qualifies as “not working”?’ Catriona asked icily. ‘Who is the judge of that, may I ask?’
‘There’s no need to be sarcastic about it, Catriona,’ Elizabeth said, faux-cheerily. ‘It’s good to run through things to check that nobody repeats anything someone else says, that the speeches don’t go on too long, and that there’s no concerning content.’
‘Concerning content?’ Angus frowned. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘Swearing, inflammatory language,’ Elizabeth said, playing with her fork. ‘Excessively long monologues about the true ownership of the castle. That kind of thing.’
‘Oh, it’s like that, is it?’ Angus retorted, but Catriona put her hand on his arm.
‘Fine. Let’s get on, shall we?’ she asked, coolly.
‘I thought I’d make a speech, actually.’ Heather put her hand up. ‘In case you didn’t know, I’ll do mine after Matty does his.’
‘Oh. How irregular.’ Elizabeth looked as if she had just found something horrid on the bottom of her shoe.
‘Still, I suppose that we must accept that this wedding will be a little… unusual. As long as you don’t launch into some sort of anarchic diatribe about the golf course protestors.
’ Elizabeth looked at Heather over the top of her glasses.
Her tone suggested that by protestors, she meant terrorists or even criminals.
‘Of course not. I just want to thank my mum and dad, my sisters, that kind of thing,’ Heather replied smoothly. ‘Of course, I could list all the different types of wildlife that your golf course is going to destroy. But that would be inappropriate.’
‘Oh, the wildlife.’ Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
‘Well, I appreciate there’s probably more wildlife here than, say, Drumchapel,’ Heather said, meeting Elizabeth’s stare. ‘But we like it.’
‘Drumchapel?’ Elizabeth’s face drained of colour. ‘Why would you say that?’
‘No reason.’ Heather raised an eyebrow. ‘I wondered if you knew it. Very urban.’
‘No, I don’t know it.’ Elizabeth continued to stare at Heather. The letter had been playing on Heather’s mind, despite Matty and Annie assuring her it was nothing.
The Campbells of Glenorchy are disreputable and not to be trusted. Elizabeth Campbell is a fake and a liar. Ask her about Drumchapel.
‘It will provide lots of jobs, though, won’t it? Bring people to this remote little island.’ Estella broke in to the conversation.
‘We don’t need more people. There are enough here,’ Violet replied. ‘That’s the way we like it on the island. People are overrated.’
‘What would you know? You don’t live here. Gadding about the world, talking about make-up, so I hear,’ Estella broke in. ‘You can’t very well speak for the islanders.’
‘I don’t. I’m just expressing an opinion. And it’s my job to “gad about and talk about make-up”. Jealous that I have a job?’ Violet shot back.
‘I have a job,’ Estella argued.
‘Oh, right. At the foundation,’ Violet countered. ‘Like that’s a real job. What do you even do?’
Elizabeth cut in. ‘Fundraising, mostly, and it’s very important work.’
‘Technological research is very vague,’ Primrose interjected. ‘What kind of technology does the foundation research, and why?’