Chapter Thirty-Six
Thirty-Six
‘Not that one, the pale pink!’ Abi said, panicked, as I brushed a stripe of brown on each cheek.
‘Oh no! The screen froze. I thought you were giving me a thumbs up!’ I peered into the mirror and tried to rub it off. ‘I knew this would be a disaster over Zoom.’
I’d bought the dongle and booster kit Mark had recommended but the signal still wasn’t brilliant, and we were only very precariously connected.
‘It’s fine – there’s time to fix it,’ she said. ‘But you need to concentrate. You’re a natural ginger, remember, and your skin is extremely pale. The only powders going anywhere near your skin should be the peaches and pinks.’
‘Sorry,’ I mumbled, putting the bronzer away and grabbing a baby wipe.
‘Now get your foundation brush and buff back over the bit you’ve just wiped.’
I buffed as best as I could, trying to mirror what Abi was doing on screen.
‘Good, that’s good.’ Her nose was up close to the camera as she watched me. ‘Leave that now and warm up the nib of your white eyeliner.’
I copied her as she scribbled into her palm, then coloured in part of my eyelid and shaded the corners, adding gold dots either side.
I could see my inner nymph starting to emerge, but I didn’t want to go too Hollywood with the make-up.
Abi was so talented – she could make me up all the way from LA with her eyes closed, but I wanted to stay recognisable.
‘I need to start getting dressed,’ I said without moving my lips as I applied the correct pink blush to the apples of my cheeks.
‘Up, up, up!’ she squawked. ‘Upward strokes, small and light. Yes, put your dress on now, then finish your eyeliner once you’re laced in.’
I couldn’t wait to put my nymphette costume on again. ‘You’re going to love it! Benji sorted me out the full kit and caboodle. Although I’ve had to tone it down slightly – there’s only so much side boob one should have on show at a wedding.’
‘And that amount is zero,’ Abi said, looking alarmed. ‘Show it to me.’
I propped my phone up on the dressing table and carefully unzipped the dress, slipping it on and standing back to give her the full effect. It was long and layered in dark blue silk, with a strapless bodice that was tricky to tighten up on my own.
‘Sara! That is… wow. Just wow. It’s a beauty. You look absolutely gorgeous.’
‘I don’t know how nymphy it is, but it makes me feel like a princess.’ I gave Abi a twirl and the layers fluffed up all fairy-like, before gently dropping.
‘There is a bit of boob overshare though. Well, more neck exposure really. It’s an optical illusion because it’s strapless. Have you got a scarf or some necklaces you can wrap around the top?’
‘I’ve got some gold wings with a big ribbon I can tie in a bow?’
‘Shut up!’
I laughed. ‘I have – I told you, Benji gave me the lot! But I think that would be pushing it. I’m wearing this…’ I pulled out the sequined jacket I’d bought from Liberty, which was long and loose and covered in purple flowers.
‘Sara – that looks stunning. My work here is done!’
‘It’s not too much?’
‘Nope. Perfect. Glamorous enough for a wedding without being over the top. And completely on theme. I can’t wait to see what everyone else is wearing. And by everyone else, I mean Henrik.’
‘He’s been up since six on best man duties, making breakfast for everyone and polishing up his speech. The bridal party are all up at the house getting ready, but I can’t imagine the boys are going over-horsey for the centaur theme.’
Abi snorted. ‘Please let Jonas and Henrik arrive as a pantomime horse.’
I laughed. ‘Thank you so much for sorting out my outfit and painting me a nymphy face.’
‘Any time. You’ve got the big eyes for it. Right, I better run. Tony’s already down at breakfast and keeps messaging me.’
‘Go, go, go. Sorry for interrupting your New York shag fest. Have a fab time and let’s swap photos when we’re both home.’
‘Ciao, ciao,’ she said, and blew me a kiss.
It was weird being back in my old cabin again.
Henrik had made sure it was allocated to me, and I’d had an overwhelming sense of comfort walking through the doors.
Of coming home. This time the heating was on, and he’d even popped a bottle of champagne in the fridge.
The wedding was a special occasion, after all.
I finished off my eyeliner and stood back to have one final check.
I felt nervous going into the wedding on my own.
I knew everyone would be friendly and full of joy and happiness for the day ahead, but the last wedding I’d been to was my own.
I took a deep breath and put one hand on my solar plexus and the other on my heart, to acknowledge and channel the nervous energy.
To reframe it as excitement and anticipation.
All was well and all would be well. Just as Henrik said in our meditations.
The dress was long enough to cover my little wellies, which were not very nymph-like, so I could make it safely over the snow.
There were flame-lit torches wedged into the ground, illuminating a path from the farmhouse to the forest, and glamorously dressed guests walked in twos and fours towards the pine trees.
A wooden arrow with Happily Ever After chipped into it pointed us in the right direction, and the ceremony had been set up in a little dell in the middle of a clearing.
Rows of wooden chairs with a red crocheted blanket over each had been lined up either side of the aisle, and fairy lights were strung through the trees,.
There was a wooden altar at the front with a simple lectern for the registrar and a rose-covered backdrop with more fairy lights looped around in the shape of a heart.
I’d managed to avoid weddings up to now, and I couldn’t help but feel sad at how much hope I’d had for my own.
Every wedding was special, but this felt extra magical.
The guests were full of colour: buttercup yellows and golds, shades of blue and pink.
The ethereal dresses made it look like a living, breathing flower garden amid all the fir trees, and there were varying levels of effort on the theme.
A full-blown Tinker Bell and one or two absinthe fairies on the bride side, with plenty of dark brown suits for the men.
‘Sara!’ I turned and Ethel was stood behind me in a long mint dress and a cream fur cape. ‘I thought it was you,’ she said, giving me a kiss. ‘Shall we sit together?’
‘Yes, please! It’s so lovely to see you – I was worried I’d be sat on my own.’
‘Not at all! You’ll know lots of people. Nina and Bjorn are here, of course, and Oliver Lund is coming too, plus me and the whole of the top table. You are a star guest, Sara. I can’t remember the last time Henrik brought a guest to a family event.’
‘It’s kind of him to invite me,’ I said, feeling my cheeks turn pink. ‘I love your outfit by the way. Aunty Nymph.’
‘You like it?’ She shrugged off the fur. ‘Vintage market in Helsinki. I like to keep an eye out. Not much to complain about here, I think?’
‘It’s like a dream. I can’t wait to see Greta’s dress. Have you had a sneak preview?’
‘As a matter of fact, I have. Greta is such a darling, thoughtful girl. She invited me to her bridal appointments with her mother Ingrid, to represent Audhilda. I saw the dress she fell in love with, but she’s so imaginative and creative; naturally she wanted to customise it a little.’
‘Are we expecting a crocheted robe of some sort?’
Ethel’s eyes twinkled. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’
The violinists struck up a tune as Jonas and Henrik walked down the aisle, both reflecting the beauty of the trees around us in matching chocolate suits. Jonas was beaming and mouthing hellos, but stopped when he saw Ethel, and came straight over.
‘Tante Eth,’ he said, wrapping her in a hug and squishing his red rose buttonhole. Henrik was busy welcoming guests across the aisle so I couldn’t catch his eye.
‘You look so handsome,’ Ethel said, wiping away a tear.
‘Everything looks beautiful,’ I added.
‘The fat lady hasn’t started singing yet,’ Jonas said with a laugh, nodding at Tore who was adjusting the microphone stand.
‘Is your dad doing the opening number?’
‘He’s doing all the numbers, so fair warning if you want to put tissues in your ears. Thank you for coming all this way, Sara.’
‘Wouldn’t have missed it.’
Jonas moved on to the next row and Henrik put a reassuring arm around him when they reached the altar.
They hugged and Henrik whispered something that made Jonas laugh.
The two brothers stood tall and broad, with their matching man buns, looking happy and relaxed.
He’d truly picked the best man for the job.
There was a second hush as the registrar stood up. ‘Mine damer og herrer vaer s? snill reis dere for bruden.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please stand for the bride,’ Ethel whispered to me.
Henrik turned to look at me as the violins took it up a notch and started playing a jolly jig. Finally, he’d remembered I was here.
‘Hi,’ I mouthed, and he put his hand on his heart. His dimpled smile made me melt and I couldn’t help but reflect it back. I was proud to be here with him, and he looked so handsome all dressed up.
Tore took to the microphone with a folky version of ‘Thinking Out Loud’ and Ethel gasped. ‘This was Audhilda’s favourite. She played it on repeat towards the end.’
The musicians led the procession, swaying and spinning as the music got louder, followed by a lady who could only be the mother of the bride in a beautiful gold dress, the two little flower girls in rose red silk, and finally Greta, clutching her dad’s arm and beaming bright.
Her blonde hair was piled high, and she looked radiant in silver, with a diamanté bustier and a long, layered skirt.
Her bridal crown was covered in tiny bangles that clinked along to the music, and she touched it and mouthed ‘thank you’ to Ethel as she walked past.
‘My brudekrone,’ she said, filled with emotion. ‘Audhilda’s too, of course. A Balke family heirloom passed down through generations. Greta is wearing it for Jonas’s mother.’
Tore’s voice wobbled as he caught sight of his daughter-in-law-to-be wearing the crown, and he closed his eyes to try and keep it together. Greta was glowing, the picture of elegance and grace as she glided down the aisle, holding a bunch of long-stemmed red roses, tied with a white ribbon.
Jonas turned to look at her. He’d waited long enough. His mouth dropped as their eyes locked, and Greta giggled.
‘Wow,’ he said, mesmerised. ‘You look incredible.’
‘So do you,’ she said, kissing her dad and taking Jonas’s hand. Her dress was equally fabulous from the back: a delicate gold train that looked like it had been spun from gossamer, covered in hundreds of tiny crystals, see-through and luminous as it floated along the aisle.
They looked happy, relieved and full of love for each other. Their moment had finally arrived to become Mr and Mrs, and it was beautiful to witness.
‘Wow is right,’ I breathed, and Ethel nodded, wiping away more tears.
‘I might burst with joy,’ she whispered.
The registrar started speaking in Norwegian, and I followed everyone else as they stood up and sat down.
Listening in another language made it bearable, as it felt so different to mine.
The beats of the ceremony were the same, so I could kind of follow where we were and what was happening, but I couldn’t understand it completely.
I’d kind of forgotten Henrik spoke Norwegian; his English was so pitch perfect. I’d have to get myself on Duolingo.
Greta and Jonas looked so happy, and I could tell from the way they were standing that it was time to say their vows. Henrik had stepped up with the rings. Tall and handsome in a three-piece suit, his beard trimmed and on point. He looked like a Viking warrior. My Viking warrior.