Chapter 3
The following morning, the WhatsApp group chat is all go, with messages flying around.
People are claiming wedding roles like a bidding war for Taylor Swift tickets.
We are all in agreement that once we lock down the venue, we should arrive a few days ahead of the proceedings, before Ged and Liam’s family and friends, in order to make sure everything runs smoothly for the wedding itself on Christmas Eve, and that we should leave on Boxing Day.
Therefore, it is decided very quickly that we need the venue for most of the week.
This will suit Cherry as she has two children, and the school nursery that they attend is thoughtlessly closing for two weeks over Christmas.
She will enjoy a peaceful day of rest after the wedding in France while her husband takes the children to his mother’s, who is desperate to host a family Christmas.
Tash also likes this idea as Sister Kevin has threatened to invite her to his house for Christmas dinner to meet his devoutly Catholic parents who are only nine years older than her.
Tash, already self-conscious about the age gap between her and Sister Kevin, is under the impression that they will judge her.
She is imagining they are girlfriend-repellent and would rather their precious son remain single and celibate.
Ged loves this idea as he thinks we will need the build-up to the wedding to practise all the dance routines and decorate the premises, as staging a full-on Bridgerton production will take time.
Big Mand and Big Sue are keen to experience their first Christmas together as a couple and are definitely IN IN.
This year will be Big Mand’s first Christmas off work for seven years.
Instead of pulling giblets from a turkey and massaging butter into the loose, prickly skin like normal people, she has usually spent the festive season yanking screaming babies from one torn vagina after another and is therefore certain that the matron will be happy to give her time off.
Everyone agrees to spend their time at work today sneakily scrolling for wedding venues with cancellations.
By teatime, we establish that there is nothing available in the whole of Europe, never mind France. Finally, after there’s been radio silence from her all day, Liberty comes up trumps. Eddie, her billionaire boyfriend, owns a sprawling ranch north of Paris.
‘He says while it is far from the palatial, candlelit Bridgerton mood board, it does have a gigantic cowshed, over a hundred thousand acres of land and ten en-suite bedrooms. And we can have it for free.’
We all message back the same star-eyes emoji.
While we may have to hire a coach to travel the entire length of France to transport the guests, it sounds very promising.
Big Sue
Whereabouts exactly? I’m having trouble finding it on the maps.
Big Mand
Me too. When you say north of Paris, do you mean Finland?
And then, two hours later, Liberty sends a rolling eyes emoji.
Liberty
Sorry guys. Apparently, it is the Paris in Texas not the Paris in France.
We are out of options. As chair of the group, Tash assumes a ‘the buck stops nowhere’ approach.
She urges everyone to keep searching. ‘I’ve already had my holidays approved and insisted that Kev cancels his plans for a stay-at-home Christmas with his controlling mother.
’ She is desperate. She needs to get away for Christmas.
Cherry is also quick to add that she too has cancelled Christmas with her in-laws. She’s never been keen on their penchant for having Christmas dinner at 4 p.m. and not opening presents until after they have eaten. ‘Imagine waiting until after Christmas dinner to open presents, for fuck’s sake?’
We are all a little traumatised by that.
Big Mand and Big Sue are keen to pin down a location so that they can fly directly to the wedding from Italy where they have booked a beautiful and romantic two-night stay in an overpriced boutique hotel at the edge of Lake Como.
I’m lying in bed, my fingers, thumbs and brain sore from all the messaging as we bid each other goodnight.
After a whole day of frantically searching for a venue, we are back to square one.
My mind flips to Matteo and his offer to ask Birdie about her parents’ villa, Chateau Beaumont, nestled on the French Riviera that may be perfect for Ged and Liam’s fairy-tale wedding.
I do a search for it and the villa comes up instantly.
It is often hired out for an eye-watering fee, apparently.
I click on the virtual tour and the first thing I notice is that it has Bridgerton vibes and ‘chic, elegant, palatial wedding’ stamped all over it.
Breathtaking views over Cap Ferrat, coupled with stylish, spacious rooms and grand balconies overlooking ornate, manicured gardens make it perfect.
I close my eyes and sink back onto my pillow.
Ged and Liam need this more than anything.
If it were me in this pickle, they’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.
This wedding feels like a monumental point in our lives.
Its significance is more than just my best friends getting married.
Who knows what the future holds for us? Our time as just the three of us living together in this flat is limited.
We are all beginning new chapters of married life.
This Christmas could be the last time we are all together in the same place for quite a while.
I drag my teeth across my lower lip, weighing my options.
The Chateau Beaumont website says that bookings are made entirely at the discretion of the family.
I read between the lines to ascertain this is them wanting to keep out the riff-raff.
But what if the chateau is available to hire over Christmas and they don’t mind a load of Bridgerton-loving merry-makers invading the place?
What if Birdie is spending the festive season skiing with her family in Aspen or whatever posh French people do when they are not floating around America producing records and chasing after my husband?
I take a deep inhale, pick up my phone and call Matteo.
Because of the time difference and the fact that Birdie does not allow any recording artists, producers, technicians or musicians to have their phones or any contact with the outside world while in the studio (she would make a great head teacher or prison guard or South American despot), it takes Matteo a few hours to return my call.
I wake to my phone buzzing at the side of my bed and sleepily press ‘accept’.
‘Hi,’ I croak groggily.
‘Hey, babe,’ Matteo says gently. ‘Sorry to wake you but your message sounded urgent. Do you want me to call you back later?’
‘No, no,’ I say, sitting up in bed, eager to speak to him. ‘It’s good to hear your voice.’
‘Same.’ He pauses. ‘I’m not sure I’ll make it over next week, as Birdie and Eddie are doing their usual and holding things up over the tiniest detail. They’re both so temperamental.’
My good mood begins to plummet. Birdie always seems to find a way to keep us away from each other. ‘Try organising a wedding with the Dollz. It took us nearly four hours to agree on a hashtag.’
Matteo chuckles. ‘How’s it all going? Did you find a venue yet?’
‘No. That’s why I called.’
‘You want me to ask Birdie about her family chateau?’
I close my eyes. ‘I wish there was another way but everywhere is fully booked and it’s literally the last resort.
I mean, it may well be booked already. Or even if it isn’t, she might say no once she knows it’s for me.
Or she might triple the price. Or she might insist on being invited to the wedding.
Then she’ll find yet another excuse to keep us apart.
I mean, she’s the reason we can’t go on honeymoon or spend more time together…
or… or…’ Goodness. I can hear myself spiralling and, let me tell you, it is not attractive.
‘Connie,’ says Matteo, his tone instantly calming. ‘I love you. You’re my wife. Birdie is not a threat to us.’
His words are like a soothing balm causing me to smile into the darkness. He loves me. He really, really, 100 per cent loves me.
‘I love you too.’ I cringe because that last bit came out as a squeak. ‘Sorry,’ I say, clearing my throat. ‘I love you too.’ Gawd, now I’ve gone too deep by at least four octaves.
Get a grip, Connie. He’s your husband. Just your everyday, run-of-the-mill, brand-new, shiny, magnificent husband.
I nervously clear my throat again. ‘Sorry, that came out weird.’
This sets Matteo off. He has the sexiest chuckle of any man I’ve ever heard.
‘I had no idea you had such a gravelly voice,’ he teases.
‘Listen, I know Birdie was a real pain in the ass in Vegas, but she got the message loud and clear, so please don’t worry about her or the fact that we are working together,’ he reassures me.
‘As soon as this project is done, we’ll not see her for a long, long time. Trust me. She’s off to Tokyo.’
I feel instantly cheered. Half a planet separating her from my husband sounds just about far enough.
‘So, shall I ask her if the chateau is available to rent for Christmas week?’
‘Yes, please. But can you check to make sure the family are all away for the holidays, first?’
Matteo chuckles. ‘Even if it means paying for them all to bugger off to Dubai, I will.’
It is with great delight that I am able to share the good news with Ged and Liam later that morning.
We are having our first of many coffees gathered around our beloved Nespresso machine that we love more than life itself.
Ged is repeatedly smoothing his moustache which I am worried has become an anxiety tic and Liam has dark circles under his eyes.
They are clearly not sleeping with all the stress.
I slide my laptop round to face them. ‘Birdie’s family own this gorgeous chateau in the south of France so, logistically, it’s perfect.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Watch this.’